Gay chicago seven club

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Our newsletter hand-delivers the best bits to your inbox. Sign up to unlock our club magazines and also receive the latest news, events, offers and partner promotions. Seven nights on the town reveal a wilder side to queer nightlife. I run into an acquaintance who tells me the party is a bust and that everyone is complaining although the swelled masses indicate otherwise.

At sibling bar Rehab, a lady nods off next to me. I feel her pain. A perfect 25 to 30 people are imbibing and chatting, and I decide this is my new favorite Closet night. He and some Asian stud have been taking turns spanking a grinning lad who is bent over one of the stages with his pants down.

Meanwhile a straight girl, high on booze and cocaine, is biting me hard on the neck. By am, the biter has taken her pants down and is helping herself to a few floggings. I exit for taqueria Tradicion W Belmont Ave then gay home to apply a bandage to my neck wound. Wandering its labyrinthine hallways clad only in a chicago towel, I realize it could be 3, 4 or 5am; I really have no idea.

A soak in the bubbly first-floor jacuzzi feels great although the action is clearly on the second floor, where about two dozen men are on the make. A white, mustached hipster strikes up a conversation with me and politely asks if he can touch my cock. Been there, done that? Think again, my friend.

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