Stories Written on Lined Paper - 8. Eleven O’clock and After

This story was written in response to the GA Writing Prompt 715. It has taken me awhile to write because I have been busy with other writing.
This is an adult story with very adult language.
 

“What the hell is that?” Darren said as he dropped down on the seat next to me. Only a moment before he’d placed our drinks on the small, round table in front of me.

“What’s what?” I said.

“That!” Darren pointed at my groin. “You’re hard!”

“What of it?” I said, covering my groin with my hand.

I was wearing my skinny jeans that night and my half hard cock was easily outlined under the tight denim.

“What’s making you horny?” Darren said.

“The stripper got me going,” I said, only telling him half the truth.

“He was fucking horny,” Darren said as he took a large gulp from his drink.

Darren had wanted to see the stripper that night but didn’t want to come here on his own, so I was roped in as his “wingman” (A phrase that I don’t understand when straight men used it, I find it even stranger that a gay man would use it). That was why I was there, waiting for Darren, at Lady Marmalade’s, our local gay club.

The stripper had been very muscular and very well hung. He had quickly taken off all his clothes and spent the rest of his act dancing around the tiny stage completely naked, and even doing back-flips naked. As he danced around naked, especially as he got members of the audience to stroke and fondle him, his cock had swelled out and even beginning to lift up in a near hard on by the end of his act. His act had been really sexual, and sitting there and watching him had turned me on, I’d felt my own cock getting hard as the stripper’s cock had too.

What had pushed me over into a near full hard on had been the sight of Darren, dancing, shirtless, after the stripper had left the stage. After the stripper had finished his act the club’s dancefloor had filled up and in the middle of it was Darren. He’s taken off his bright silver shirt, his smooth and well-defined chest on display, and he was spinning and twisting in time to the music. As he spun around to the music there, his half naked body was soon shining with a fine covering of sweat, which seemed to make his muscles even more defined and obvious. I sat there, almost transfixed by his performance, becoming more and more hard.

I have loved Darren since we first met, back as sixteen-year-olds in the only LGBT Youth Group for miles around, before they closed it, but I was never his type. I am a thin, nerdy, white boy, who hides in the shadows in my plain, dark clothes. I am not the bright light Darren is, lighting up and dominating any room he enters. I’m not the fabulous soul who is never lost for a word to say or a thing to do that Darren is. But I want to be with him, in any way I can. What I really want to be is Darren’s boyfriend, to curl up each night with his beautiful body next to mine, to make love with him and have him love me the way I love him, but he doesn’t. To him I’m just his wallflower mate, there following behind him and looking out for him and doing whatever he wants me to, but I’m happy to be here, to be near to Darren.

That night I was horny and I’d let it get away from me. I hadn’t had sex for ages, I hadn’t been able to sneak away to a gay sauna in Leeds, where I find so many men to have sex with and they don’t turn me down because I don’t look like some muscle-bound hunk. The stripper’s naked body had begun to get me going but watching Darren’s half-naked body dancing, that body I so wanted, had fully made my cock hard.

“God, that stripper really got you going,” Darren said, staring at my groin.

Sat there with Darren up close to me wasn’t doing anything to make my cock to go down. He was still shirtless and his chest was still moist with sweat. A bead of sweat was sliding down his chest, straight down past his large, pink nipple. I wanted to lean over and lick that bead of sweat off his chest, to kiss that large, pink nipple, to run my tongue down his smooth, flat stomach, but I didn’t.

“Leave it out,” I said.

“Let’s have a feel,” Darren said, pushing his hand onto my groin. His fingers didn’t really grope me, he just felt out the length and width of my half-hard cock, but just having his hand on my groin was enough to make my cock jump into full hard on, my cock was straining against my jeans, trying to reach Darren’s hand. “Fuck, that’s a big cock!” Darren said.

I looked up and saw Darren staring at me. His eyes were wide, the dark pupils almost filling all of them, his checks were flushed pink it was spreading across his nose and under his eyes, and his breath smelt so strongly of drink. Darren always got pissed when he went out, with or without me, but I don’t drink, I never have. He’s always says that’s why I’m such a good “wingman”, because I stay sober and can get him home when he’s so drunk he doesn’t know what he’s doing. That night he was already pissed and it was just after eleven o’clock, Lady Marmalade’s had had a long happy hour that night.

“Get off! You’re pissed!” I said, as I pushed his hand off my groin. I did it because I was supposed to not because I wanted to.

“So what? I know a big cock when I feel it,” he said.

“Leave it out,” I said.

“With a cock like that I’d take you home and let you fuck me stupid,” Darren said.

I felt my stomach jump with delight, then I looked at his face again. Darren’s pissed face stared back at me. I know him and I know he was now so drunk that he’d never remember tomorrow anything he said or did now.

“Don’t say that,” I said.

“I love a big cock and I loved being fucked by one,” Darren said.

“And I’ve wanted to make love to you since the day we first met,” I said.

“What?” Darren said. His eyes seemed to have trouble focusing on me.

“I’ve loved you as long as I’ve known you and you can never see that, and it’s breaking my heart,” I said.

“Take me home and fuck me with that huge cock of yours,” he said, his hand rubbing along my thigh. As his fingers stroked my thigh I could feel my cock twitching with excitement again, God it was so distracting.

“I’d love nothing more but you’re so pissed you’d never remember it and that’s not what I want. I want to make love to you again and again. I want you as my boyfriend but you’re so pissed you’ll never remember this, you never do,” I said.

“I’d find that offence if I wasn’t pissed,” Darren said, his hand slipping off my thigh.

“You once kissed me when you were as pissed as this, well you snogged my face off. It was wonderful and you couldn’t remember a moment of it the next day. It nearly broke my heart. If we had sex now you’d never remember it tomorrow and that would kill me,” I said.

“Whatever. You lose,” he said. He took his drink off the table and downed the half of it left in one go. He then stood up, leaving me alone sat there, and started to walk back to the dancefloor. He swayed from side-to-side slightly as he walked away, just looking at him you’d have thought it was a sexy swagger but I knew that it was because he was pissed. Darren could physically hold his drink but mind got so pissed and so quickly.

I watched him as he walked back into the dancefloor, his bright silver shirt still hanging out of the back of his jeans, but all creased now. From the back he was still as handsome, the sweep of his lean but muscular back running down to his curving and very tasty arse. Darren’s arse was almost as beautiful as his face. As he started to dance, I carried on watching him. He was so beautiful in movement, his body turning and twisting to the music again.

All I could feel was stupid and lost. There Darren had been offering me sex on a plate and I’d turned him down, I’d stupidly I’d stuck to my principles. I didn’t just want a passing fuck, I wanted Darren to love me and want me, and as pissed as he was, Darren wasn’t going to give me that. The next day he’d have broken my heart, and I could have taken that.

As I watched him dance, it came to me. I’d never get anymore from Darren than a grope when he was pissed. I’d been so stupid, I’d wasted so much time wondering around after Darren and for what? Nothing. He was beautiful but all I ever got to do was look at him. I was going nowhere. I’d not had a boyfriend because I’d been following Darren around everywhere, all my social life had been was following Darren around everywhere, all I’d been doing for ages was following Darren around, and what had it got me? Sitting on the side on my own.

I stood up and walked out of Lady Marmalade’s and tried not to look back. For once Darren would have to find his way home, or his way back to someone else’s home. As I left I said goodnight to Karl, the bouncer there, but we have history together. Karl gave me that broad smile that he always does.

The next morning, well nearly at midday, my phone rang and it was Darren.

“Where the fuck where you last night?” He said.

“I was tired, I went home,” I said.

“Whatever, but you missed a great time, well I think I had a great time. I was so pissed. Anyway I woke up next to Karl, Lady Marmalade’s bouncer, the big man with the goatee, and at his place. Fuck he has a big cock,” Darren said (Karl’s cock wasn’t as big as mine, I’d sucked him off one night in Lady Marmalade’s staff toilets, and I knew Karl’s cock wasn’t as big as mine but I didn’t say anything. Was that why Karl always smiled at me?).

“Oh right,” I said.

“Look I’m on my way home, have a shower and get some clean knickers, meet me for brunch and I’ll tell you all about it. Well about this morning’s fuck, I was too pissed to remember last night’s fuck. What am I like?” Darren said.

“Sorry but I can’t. I have plans for today,” I said.

“What plans? You never have plans,” Darren said.

“Well I do and I’ve got to go,” I said and I hung up.

I didn’t have plans but I would never have any plans if I kept following around after Darren. I felt strange, I’d never turned down Darren before but maybe I should have done, ages ago.