“It’s an unofficial bridal shower,” she said, her eyes darting all over the place. “My real bridal shower is next weekend.”
The girl who had spoken first looked over at her and said, “Sarah, stop being so shy. We’re just here to have a good time!”
“Well,” I said, trying to slice through the awkward tension, “congratulations anyway. When’s the big day?”
The girl – apparently named Sarah – finally looked up at me and said, “In two weeks.”
“Cool,” I said, turning my attention away from her and looking down at the handsome guy in front of me.
I had intentionally positioned myself so that my cock was just a few inches from his face. He was trying his best not to look at it, but I could see him stealing quick glances. He knew that the girl next to him couldn’t see where his eyes were roaming, otherwise he would have forced himself to look away.
Every other guy at the table was either looking at the floor or at their phones. I had always found that people in awkward situations tend to use their phones as an escape. Looking around at their screens, I confirmed this by noticing that they were all just flipping around aimlessly, not focusing on any message or item of importance.
I decided to have a little fun with them and I said, “Let me guess: you’re all straight guys.”
Suddenly, they all looked up at me and smiled, nodding their heads and laughing with each other. I had broken the ice by allowing them to confirm their precious heterosexuality, thereby making them comfortable.
“Finally!” I said. “A response. I thought you guys were going to be awkward all night.”
More laughter, for which I applauded myself for my great wit and charm.
The girl sitting next to my dream guy chimed in and said, “You’re cute! I was hoping we’d have someone to loosen these guys up a bit. I’m Kelly!”
I winked at Kelly and replied, “I can get them a lot looser than this.”
The girls around the group erupted into laughter, but the guys all returned to looking at their phones.
“Oh, come on,” I said, “there’s no need to go back to awkwardness! You can’t expect to come to a gay bar and not hear at least one inappropriate comment!”
Thankfully, they looked up again and seemed to relax. I didn’t want to give myself the headache of dealing with tension all night, so I was glad it was broken. I also didn’t want to spend the entire night showing them a good time, so I looked down at my blank pad to signal that I wanted to take their order.
“What do you guys want to drink?”
Kelly spoke up in the most obnoxious voice possible and said, “I’ll have a sex on the beach!”
I couldn’t help but cringe at her drink request. She had the type of nasally, high-pitched voice that I hated. She sounded like Kim Kardashian mixed with Paris Hilton; I had thought that working at a gay bar meant that I never had to deal with women like her.
“Me too!” the bride-to-be chimed in, joining in the obnoxious behavior.
“So…” I began, pretending to scribble notes on my pad, “that’ll be two beers?”
Again, more laughter from the girls as they listened to my corny joke.
At least they didn’t take it the wrong way, I thought.
“Honestly guys,” I said with a smile, gesturing toward Allen behind the bar, “the bartender is a little backed up tonight, so let’s try to keep the drinks pretty simple. Besides, I’m not sure if we have juice. How about rum and Coke?”
“That’ll work!” Kelly said as her girlfriends nodded their heads in approval.
“And for the fellas?” I said, trying to sound casual but probably not doing a very good job of it.
“I’ll have a beer,” one of them said, as two of the other guys nodded their approval for the same thing.
Looking down at the handsome man before me – the one I was truly interested in – I asked, “What about you?”
“I, uh…”
His voice trailed off and Kelly jumped in to say, “Sorry, my boyfriend Clint is a little shy. He’ll have a beer too!”
Looking down at Clint, I could see that he was putting every ounce of self-control he had into not looking at my dick through my underwear. He might have come in with Kelly, but I wasn’t sure that he was straight.
I decided to be a little bold and I asked as I looked down at my cock, “Is that what you want, Clint?”
“What?” he asked, a nervous expression spreading across his face.
“Beer,” I replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “Is that what you want?”
The other guys in the group had all started talking amongst themselves, and the girls had done the same. No one was paying attention to Clint and I, and it felt like the entire bar – and everyone in it – had melted away, leaving just the two of us as the bass pumped through the floor and into our bodies.
Looking behind himself, Clint noticed that everyone else in the group had looked away. He glanced back up at me and tried to find words, but obviously failed. I didn’t want to see him struggle, so I smiled and wrote beer on my notepad, as if I needed any help remembering.
As I turned to walk away, I felt a finger tap the back of my exposed leg. Turning back, I saw Clint smiling up at me.
“I don’t want beer,” he said, confidence finally shining through in his voice. “I’ll have a whiskey and Coke.”
“Good choice,” I said, scratching out the word beer and replacing it with his choice. “I’ll go over and have the bartender start making them now. He’ll bring them over when they’re ready. Feel free to come over and let me know if there’s anything else you need.”
Before I turned to walk away, I noticed the lingering look in his eyes as he obviously didn’t want me to leave. Still, he likely knew that it was too risky to talk to me further with all his friends sitting around.
Arriving back at the bar, Greg stopped dancing and waltzed over to my end of the bar as I handed the paper to Allen.
“Is this all?” Allen asked, looking down at the paper.
Realizing I hadn’t written down all the drink orders, I said, “Two beers, one whiskey and Coke, and three rum and Cokes.”
Allen laughed and replied, “Nicholas, what kind of beer?”
“Oh,” I replied, realizing that I never drink – or think about – beer. “I have no idea. Just give them…beer.”
Allen laughed, rolled his eyes, and turned to start making the drinks.
Leaning down from his position of dancing on the bar, Greg asked, “How did it go?”
“How did what go?”
“Don’t play coy,” he said. “I’ve never seen that kind of look in your eyes for any regular customer here at the bar; you’re in lust.”
“Stop it,” I replied, turning to look back at the group of people I had just spoken with.
“Yep,” Greg said, egging me on. “It’s because he’s straight.”
“Who?” I asked. “Clint?”
“Oh!” Greg said. “So, you know his name? Wow, that took less than three minutes!”
“Yes,” I confessed, slightly embarrassed. “His name is Clint, and he’s straight. So what?”
“So that’s what you like,” Greg replied, leaning down even more so that his cock was two inches from my face.
He liked to try to tease me as much as possible, and he was as hard as a rock from being felt-up by the customers.
“What are you talking about?”
“You like a challenge,” he replied, pushing his legs over the bar and sitting on it.
Looking past him, I could see that the patrons at the bar were staring at his perfectly-sculpted ass.
“Everyone likes a challenge,” I said, trying to brush off his comment.
“Not as much as you,” he replied. “I know your type. You’re the hot, cocky guy who can have anyone he wants; therefore, you want whomever you can’t have.”
“I could have him,” I replied, playing into Greg’s opinion that I was cocky. “Believe me.”<
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“I’m not so sure,” Greg replied, still teasing me. “He seems pretty straight to me. And that’s my point: you like the challenge, not the actual payoff.”
“His eyes were wandering around,” I said, reaching up to brace my hands on Greg’s legs as they dangled off the bar.
The patrons behind him all began to stare at us, probably assuming we were going to put on a show since I was touching him. I felt the muscles in Greg’s legs as they flexed and shifted, moving beneath my hands like unruly snakes.
“So what?” Greg asked.
“So, he was staring at my huge cock,” I replied, putting it as bluntly as I could.
“You mean…” Greg began, leaning down and wrapping my underwear-covered dick in his hand, “this cock?”
Smiling, I knew that he was only touching me to put on a show for the guys behind him. Anytime any of us dancers would fool around with each other on stage, our tips would increase exponentially. Still, I couldn’t resist the feeling of a strong hand on my cock, and I felt it growing hard.
“Yes,” I replied, knowing what he was up to. “That cock. Clint was staring at it.”
Greg nodded his head and replied, “He’s still staring.”
Looking over my shoulder, I noticed that Clint was indeed watching us. Reaching down, I attempted to remove Greg’s hand from my cock, but his fingers gripped it, holding tightly and sending a rushing sensation through my body.
“Let’s give him a show,” he said, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
Shaking my head, I replied, “Not yet.”
“Oh, do you want him to view you as a virgin?” Greg asked. “Because, believe me, he knows you’re no saint working in a place like this.”
I leaned over and looked at the men just beyond Greg. “Do you gentlemen want to see a show?” I asked.
Still resting my arms on Greg’s legs, I leaned down as if I was going to take his cock in my mouth. Taking my cue, Greg reached down and pulled his rock-hard dick out of his underwear, showing it off to everyone around.
The men all cheered in unison, which called the attention of the party over to us. Looking over my shoulder again, I watched as Clint and his friends gazed at us. Still, I knew I wasn’t in the mood for a show, and I wanted to have a relatively low-key night.
Leaning down, I pretended as if I was going to take Greg’s cock in my mouth, inching myself closer and closer towards it before finally pulling away in one quick motion. Groans of disappointment filled the room, and Greg and I both laughed at our cruel trick. He climbed back into a standing position and turned to get back to dancing.
Allen came over with the drinks on a tray and said, “Here you go.”
“Here I go?” I asked, raising one eyebrow as if to imply that I did not want to deliver the drinks. “I thought you were going to take them over.”
“Well,” he replied, looking down at the floor, “you were so great at taking their order, I thought you might want to run the drinks over as well.”
“What’s your deal tonight?” I asked, teasing him with a smile. “Are you nervous about serving a group?”
“I have some kind of mental block against being snickered at by a group of girls,” he said. “I don’t know, probably something dating back to high school I’m sure.”
“Aw,” I said, pouting my lips. “That’s cute. I’ll run them over, sure.”
“At least let me split the tip with you,” Allen said, turning to ring up their drinks.
4
Thirty minutes had gone by since Clint and his party had walked into The Warehouse, and I was anxious to have some alone time with him. I knew, however, that this wasn’t a very likely outcome as Kelly had been attached to his hip for most of the night. I had to admit to myself that he didn’t seem as interested in her as she was in him, so I wondered if maybe there was some hope after all.
As if on cue, I heard Greg walk into the locker room as he announced, “It’s not going to happen.”
“What?” I asked, unsure of what he was talking about.
“It’s not going to happen,” he repeated. “Get the thought out of your head.”
I walked over and peered through the crack in the locker room door, looking out at his party and watched as he sat silently while the girls around him giggled and squealed.
“I’m tired of dancing for them,” Greg added. “I feel like some kind of novelty.”
“I know what you mean,” I replied.
“Right,” he said sarcastically, “thank you very much for that. I just had one of those girls come over to the bar and stick a twenty down the front of my underwear.”
“At least they’re tipping you,” I replied with a halfhearted smile.
As I spoke, I realized that they were standing up to leave. My heart sank into my chest and I knew that I would probably never see Clint again. Turning back to face Greg, he noticed the frown on my face and asked me what was wrong.
“They’re leaving,” I replied, my chest getting tight.
“And?”
“And so, I’ll probably never see him again, Greg.”
“Are you serious right now?” he asked, walking over and placing his hands on my shoulders as if he was going to shake me. “What’s your deal with this guy? You meet dozens of guys every single night.”
“I don’t know, I –”
“Besides,” he said, interrupting my thought, “the guys from Urge are coming over when we close for the night; it should be a lot of fun.”
I could tell by the way he winked at me that he was excited about what was going to happen later. The slight, unprovoked jump in my cock told me that I was excited too. Still, I wanted to at least have a chance to talk to him for a few minutes and maybe get a feel for what his personality was like. There was something mysterious and enigmatic about him, and I was desperate to know more.
“Let it go,” Greg said as if he could read my mind, “and let’s have some fun tonight.”
“And make some cash,” I said.
“Yep. What’s your goal for the night?”
“I wouldn’t mind making a couple thousand,” I replied, turning around and throwing him my trademark cocky smile. “And I think I just might.”
“You’re dreaming,” he replied, “I think you’ll make about half that.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” I said, “I see quite a few regulars out there. Regulars who tip well.”
Looking back through the crack in the door, I could see that Clint and his party had disappeared.
Stop it, I thought. You’re behaving like a dramatic teenaged girl. He’s just a random guy, do what Greg suggested and let it go.
“I’m going to get back out there,” I said, pushing the door open and walking through.
Greg mumbled something behind me, but I couldn’t make out what he said, and I wasn’t particularly interested anyway. Allen noticed me walking toward the bar and called me over. Glancing at the guys seated at the bar, I saw a few new faces and noticed that they all looked eager.
Things might turn out alright after all, I thought, thinking about the potential to earn a lot of money on a busy night.
As I approached the bar, Allen leaned over and said, “You were right about that party; they tipped incredibly well.”
“Oh?” I asked, looking down at the receipt he was showing me.
“Yep,” he replied, pointing at the numbers with his pen. “The guy you had your eye on all night was the one who paid and it looks like he’s pretty generous.”
“How generous?” I asked, taking the receipt from Allen.
Looking down at it, I could see that Clint had left a forty percent tip.
“Wow,” I said, looking up at Greg who was equally stunned.
“I’ll pull the cash out of the register at the end of the night and give you your half,” he said, turning to walk over to a patron and offer a drink.
Looking down, I realized I had left my sweatpants on after putting them on in the locker room. I reached
down, slid my fingers under the elastic waistband, and pulled them down slowly, revealing my semi-hard cock below. Each of the men at the bar turned and looked at me, and I had to admit to myself that the attention was exciting me.
I had never considered myself to be an egomaniac, but there was no way I could avoid acknowledging the truth which was that I loved attention. Ever since I was younger, I had always enjoyed the feeling of having eyes on me, admiring my well-earned physique and silently complimenting me while desperately craving me at the same time.
Turning to look behind myself, I took notice of my ass and smiled as I realized that the extra squats in the gym were paying off. As I turned to look back toward the bar, my view of the other patrons was blocked by a man who was standing directly in front of me. To my surprise, I realized that it was Clint.
“Hi,” he said, nervously looking away as I reached down and adjusted my underwear.
I was embarrassed that he had caught me checking out my own ass, and I wished that there was a way for me to go back in time approximately thirty seconds to rework what had just happened.
“Hi,” I replied, awkwardly tripping over my own tongue for the first time in ages.
Suddenly, I realized that the tension and nervousness when I was near him was exactly what excited me. No one made me nervous anymore, and the excitement of standing before him was like a jolt of energy that I had craved for many years.
“Did you see a white phone back there?” he asked, pointing toward the area where they had been seated.
Shaking my head, I replied, “No, I haven’t looked.”
We both began to walk over to the booth, and I quickly noticed his phone sitting on the table in the middle of the cushioned chairs. Pointing toward it, I noticed Clint smile sheepishly as he walked over to retrieve it.
“I’m always losing this thing,” he said as he picked it up and put it in his pocket.
Suddenly, the thought crossed my mind that he might have left his phone there intentionally. I didn’t want to arrogantly flatter myself by thinking that he wanted to see me, but there was an unspoken, undeniable chemistry between us that I wanted to explore.
The Warehouse Page 4