When I was eighteen, I asked a few drunken men to show me their cock and mostly got told to fuck off. Then I started hanging around the men’s restrooms in the bus station downtown. I used to go into stalls and read messages written on the walls. I saw one where a man had written to wait outside the restroom around one o’clock on weekdays and he would be there wearing brown slacks and a shirt and tie. I figured he would be...