To the American ear, the name Francisco conjures up the city of San Francisco, rising above a bay on rollercoaster hills, with its bars and tourists and gingerbread trim.
But that would be the wrong city, the wrong bay, the wrong tourists for this Francisco.
Like many a young man with a hardon who is approached by a photographer on a Southern beach and offered money -- not a fortune certainly, but more than enough for the proverbial "trouble" -- to free the monster bulging out of his low-rise swim trunks, in front of a camera, for strictly humanitarian purposes -- no, not to save Africa, which thankfully has Ryan and Paula and Randy and Simon to save it -- but for the good governance and continuing sanity of all us wonderful people out here in the dark...
Like so many young men, we say, this young man decided not to use his real name but fabricated one from the glittering syllables of the city where he was from, or wanted to be from -- his soul city.
We all have a soul city, which like a soulmate, is a place destined for us, though we may never actually make it there. And again, Americans may be forgiven if primed with this information, there is even more reason to assume that their own mythic gay homeland is the place Francisco constructed his nom de porn out of.
But it isn't, and he didn't
This young man is Brazilian, and his soul city is not San but Sao Francisco.
Sao Francisco also faces a bay, though it sits on a level shore at the foot of green Brazilian mountains. And while it has none of the fog that rolls its American cousin up into a cottonball at about 4 in the afternoon every day, it does have bars and tourists and -- that important common ingredient -- a waterfront.
Waterfronts = Sex. Waterfronts = Men. Waterfronts = Ships that Pass in the Night. No matter what hemisphere your stars are tracking in.
And so it is only to be expected that our Sao Franciscan knows his way around a hot, hairy jerk-off. His warm eyes, dark treasure trail, and big ... wait for it ... heart are on display in the Maximo Latino galleries of the Inner Circle. With a full seven-scene jackoff session.
We offer this footage, as always, as a public service:
Three cheers for Good Governance and Continuing Sanity!