Lane and I have been dating for almost a year. Almost every night, he stays over in my house near Sunset and San Vicente, or I stay over in his apartment on Hacienda, about five blocks away.
But we still cruise. On Friday and Saturday nights, if we don't have a dinner or party to go to, we go to Mugi or to the Faultline.
On Sunday afternoons we go to the beer/soda bust at the Faultline.
Of course, we never bring anyone home directly from the bar. Only disgusting sleazoids stoop to hooking up, or what we call "tricking. When we meet someone, we make a date with him for 3-4 days later, then go out to dinner or to a movie, and finally, bring him home to "share."
Tonight I have a sore shoulder, and I don't feel like cruising. After dinner I tell Lane that I just want to stay in and watch tv.
"Do you mind if I go out by myself?" Lane asks. "I'll come over afterwards to spend the night."
"Only if you bring me something," I say. "Or somebody," I add as a joke.
He drives off at 9:30 pm, after the Golden Girls. I watch tv, read a book.
The rest of the story, with nude photos and sexual situations, is on Tales of West Hollywood.