If you know me, you know that Aerosmith has been my favorite band since I was 12.  That’s why, on Steven Tyler’s 71st birthday, March 26, 2019, I decided to make love in an elevator.

Evan and I had already been traveling together for a hot minute, and inevitably sleeping together too, so we were well enough acquainted to share our weird and deviant fantasies with each other.  We’d knocked off a castle from our list of places to bang, so an elevator seemed fairly simple.  It was a harder task than we expected, however.

Life at the notorious Grandio Party Hostel starts with a drink for breakfast.  By the time we’d gotten to Budapest’s city center that afternoon, we were already both tipsy and a half.  I was making the rounds at the market stalls for souvenirs when he pointed out the nearest elevator just a few feet away from us.  It was only two levels, going down underground to the parking lot and public transportation system.  Okay, we could make that work.

The thing about (heterosexual) public sex is it’s more complicated than it initially seems.  For starters, it requires the man to have an erection, which isn’t always easy to achieve/maintain under extremely awkward circumstances.  That’s how, in the middle of the afternoon in Budapest, I spent a solid 20 minutes on my knees, sucking a dick while riding up and down repeatedly in an elevator, hoping that maybe, just maybe, no one would push the button summoning us to pick them up and take them to their desired destination.  Ultimately, we failed to achieve penetration that afternoon.

Much later that night, absolutely drunk off our asses at the affiliated bar Retox, we started talking to a wonderful young woman named Jess.  An Australian living in Budapest, she was fairly familiar with the city and its debauchery, and as it happened, she had a friend who lived in a building with an elevator.  Being friends with said person, Jess knew the elevator code, and she also knew that, once shut, the elevator doors couldn’t be opened without entering said code again.

Bingo.

Was this actually going to happen?  Was I actually going to get fucked in an elevator for Steven Tyler’s birthday?

Yes, yes I was.  I don’t know how Evan and I stumbled there, but we did.  We only had a vague idea of the location, but because he’d been going to Budapest for nigh on a decade, he literally led me there by the hand.  We got into the elevator, thanks to Jess’s code, and all I really remember is the blinding fluorescent light as I gave him head and then hopped up onto the handrail, pants down, so he could put his cock into me.

It was unceremonious, sure, but it was beautifully fated.  We made love in an elevator that night.  Somehow, against all odds, we managed to make it happen.  I can only hope Steven Tyler would be proud.