Knowing When to Quit

"But if you don't do it, you know you will regret it for the rest of your life."

How many times had I heard that line in my lifetime? And how many times had it been true? I have no idea. I'd always followed through with whatever stunt was placed before me. But this time... I'm thinking that maybe this time, I need to let the dice lay where they rest.

No, I wasn't rolling in a casino. Or anywhere else either. It's just a saying people. Get over it already.

So what was I doing? I was sitting, front stage and center, at an all-male review. And damn, these guys were hot! The hottest of all was dancing right in front of me.

"Come on, David. You know you want him. You've wanted him since the ninth grade."

I tore my eyes away from the come-hither look the blond up on stage was giving me, and turned to the one person that could get me to do the most outrageous things—all with that one line.

Things like run stark-naked from my house to his and back just to prove I wasn't afraid of my body. Or jumping into a freezing pond to show my junk wouldn't shrink as much as the next guy's.

I know, I know—what an idiot. Right? Yeah. But the thing is—I think I would have regretted it. They were really stupid things to do, but I did them. And I'd run naked again, because I'm not afraid of being seen—imperfections and all. I'd probably jump in the water again too, although, I have to admit; I shrunk just as much. *sigh*

And Steve was always right there with me. Nobody could say he wouldn't back up anything he laid out without doing it himself—except this. He was my best friend, my confidante, my shoulder to cry on... and he was immutably straight.

Coming to this club, or any gay club, he did out of friendship to me. To guard my honor, as he always said. But I think it was just because he knew he could unwind, let loose, and be a little crazy without having to get it on with the "chicks". He'd even dance if asked, though not like the blond on the stage. Oh no, not like that.

But back to the regret Steve swore I'd feel.

"David, he wants you. Now's your chance."

I sighed. "Steve, you know that's all an act, right? Dancers like Terry give you that look to get better tips."

"Sure, sure, I know that. But, what about this?"

He handed me a napkin. On it was what looked to be a quickly scrawled message.

Meet me in the back room after my dance.

Riiigghht. Like I was gonna fall for that trick.

"Come on, Steve. You don't really think I'm gonna take this seriously? When did you write this?"

"Nope." He shook his head and pointed up to the stage. "He did."

I peeked up at the dancing, blond orgasm on legs. He was still giving me the look. You know the one. The look that says, "I'd like to lick you all over, pretend your skin is the outside of a tootsie pop and work you 'til I can suck out the creamy center." That look.

Now, here's the thing. I really had wanted Terry since the ninth grade. I mean, who wouldn't? Oh yeah. Straight guys and lesbians. Although, I'm pretty sure this guy could probably turn a few of them into jelly. After all, he was sex on legs. Two perfect, muscular, long, mouth-watering legs.

But, I digress.

The point is Steve was right. But things had changed since high school. He knew that. I knew that. And so did Terry. So why the come-on all of a sudden? Terry had never shown me an ounce of interest. I'd flirted my heart out—done just about everything but strip naked and crawl all over him to show him I was interested. It had never done one iota of good.

So, why now? I didn't get it. But, you know what? It didn't matter.

Sure, I could meet him in the back. We could have mind-blowing, dripping, life-sucking sex. I could have everything I'd wanted for years. The problem was—I didn't want it anymore. I didn't want Terry anymore.

I watched him dance—curling his finger to me and giving me air kisses and winks. Then I turned to Steve and smiled.

"I think I'm gonna go now."

"But, wait. If you don't do it, you know you will regret it for the rest of your life."

I shook my head. "Nope. Not this time."

I turned away from the stage and left the club to head home. There was an important question I needed to ask Mark.

http://www.gayauthors.org/forums/topic/34742-prompt-137-creative-first-line/