Where is Carlos?

I met Carlos on a gay TV chat. Around that time, about ten years ago, I was living with my partner in Madrid. Since we had been together for several years, every now and then we would get high and each go our separate way. That day was one of those occasions. I entered a chat, as I said, and I came across Carlos, an active and vicious guy (like me), high, around my age, 30-ish, and looking for something. We quickly understood each other, he gave me his address, close to my house in Chamberi, and I didn't think twice about it.

Within fifteen minutes, I was ringing his intercom, I went up to his apartment, and the door was ajar. "Come in, I'm at the end of the hall," he said. He was sitting in a two-seat armchair. "Come, have one, dude." That's what I did. Carlos seemed very normal to me, neither ugly nor handsome, athletic, his voice was manly. I was struck by the fact that he was wearing a white cotton bathrobe and slippers. He took one after I did, and he kissed me on the mouth almost without me realizing it. It was a perfect kiss. A deep kiss from someone who knows how to kiss. It really surprised me a lot, because in general, people don't know how to kiss. My partner, for example, has never kissed me like that. "And besides being handsome, you kiss well," "YOU'RE THE ONE WHO KISSES WELL," I told him. We kissed again, with more naturalness, I think, and he said, "Call me 'you' in the formal sense, if you don't mind, I like it better." "It will be a pleasure, sir," I replied. He opened his bathrobe, and his enormous and erect cock seemed to be asking me to suck it, which I did, first from my uncomfortable position, then kneeling down to enjoy it between his legs.