NEW DISCLAIMER: The following is an amusing short story I wrote which contains some pretty extreme sexual references. If you are not comfortable with such things, just move on to the next post. I'm posting this story because it's funny and I think it's really well written, but I realize that it isn't a topic that's comfortable for everyone. I apologize to anyone who might have read this yesterday when the disclaimer was much more vague. Party on.
The throb of the dance floor resonated through my boots. Indecisive washes of light distorted my vision. I avoided breathing through my nose. The smell of too many thrashing bodies and too few baths made the room alive in a way I wasn’t quite prepared to experience. I gyrated to the pound of technology, sure that I was the hottest thing in the room. A few others seemed to think so as well and their complete disregard for my intellect drove me to dance even harder.
My shirt had come off a few songs earlier. I had attempted a display at shyness when Scott began to tug at it. Quickly my shyness turned into passivity with my arms stretching above my head and with one swift motion my t-shirt lay crumpled on the corner of the stage. It’s always tricky to choreograph the “non-planned” disposal of clothing. It must be someone else’s idea and it’s even better when they are the one to manhandle the thing off me. I mean, I’d hate for someone to think I actually enjoyed showing off. Not that modesty was the first impression I was giving at the moment mind you. I don’t know, it’s some weird game I play with myself to justify my exhibitionist ways. Yep, that’s right, I said exhibitionist. “Hello, my name is Tony and I’m an exhibitionist.”
Tonight’s show was focused not on Scott – he was simply the prep man – but on a hunk of man meat who had just walked in the door. Strong jaw line, that’s the first thing I noticed about him. That and his closely cut salty brown hair. From there my eyes wandered down his clothed body trying to extrapolate what he would look like as he fucked my ass. Hey, it’s a gay bar. In the real world that’s pretty much on par with wondering what someone does for a living.
The image I came up with was a good one. Solid body drenched in man fur. The thick hair on his forearms gave me desperate hope that there was a forest under his clothes waiting to be explored. Not too chubby, but enough meat to sink my teeth into. His mature hands and slightly rugged facial features indicated a ripeness of age that rounded out this blissful picture.
I moved around the dance floor to get a better look at this potential midnight snack while he stood on the sidelines; sizing him up according to the list of hotness I always carried around in my head. He was doing fairly well on my little “How to have awesome sex in 10 easy steps” check list when he left the room. Damn! How could I woo him with my well-timed self-gropes if he wasn’t even within sweating distance?
After 5 minutes of pretending not to care. I made my way into the area where leather boys, transvestites and drag queens were playing pool; casually scanning the room for any signs of Mr. Right Now. None of the drunks at the bar seemed to care about my quest so I continued my effort at nonchalance and strolled into the second dance floor. There he was sitting on a stool at the edge of the sweaty action. It was now or never. This was my chance to see if we had any spark whatsoever.
So I danced. Fingers trailing across nipples, hips tensing in rhythm with the music, hands taunting disappearance beneath the waist of my jeans. I threw my arms over my head and twisted my body into a wild statement of lust which would be roughly translated as “fuck me now you stallion of a man.” I opened my eyes to see if he had heard my call only to find him tonsils deep in a busty looking black woman. And while I may have retained some amount of hope that I would later be licking his jiz off the ceiling, his none-too-subtle hand disappearing into her beaver den left things plainly clear. I’d be dining alone tonight.
| July 13, 2005 10:26am | 
random mutterings
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reviews
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comment already
because there’s nothing that amuses me more than hearing your pathetic opinion
Damon,
I really enjoyed your short story. Have you considered submitting some of your writings to any mags? You should consider it. Then again, I'm already a fan, so I'm a little biased! Or, even better, write for that newspaper you are doing graphic stuff for? Commentary type articles can let you cut loose and have some fun and get paid for it! You'll be the Carry Bradshaw of Homer, AK! In stead of "Sex in the City" it will be "Sex in the Wilderness"... Just think of the bears!
Jay | July 14, 2005 8:28AM
Excellent!!
Curt | July 14, 2005 12:20PM