Of course, nearly all days dawned beautiful in Cyprus.Before I picked the professor up at the Nicosia Hilton, I tossed a couple of beach towels and a Speedo in the trunk of my BMW convertible. Gay porn The Greek was panting and groaning enough for me to hear. I probably should have pursued the matter.When I dropped Malte off at Rita’s, the Turk from Wednesday afternoon was there. He took the tray off the bed and showed me that he had a pair of wrist restraints in his hand.“I’m horny,” he said, “And the others have gone back to Rita’s. I had tried to slide in beside him at the table, but he’d said, “No, I want for us to talk a while.” That’s when he said he wanted to paint me.“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” I said, remembering the paintings he had on exhibit at the Paphos Gate art opening.“In the nude,” he said.“That’s why I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I said.“I can’t stop thinking about it. There was no Mardi Gras mask to give me at least that much anonymity.“What do you think of them?” he asked.
