At the gay club

So I went ahead and did it. After deciding that Friday was not a good night to go out, and having a major iPod and computer emergency, I decided to go on Saturday night.

I had selected a place on the internet that appealed to me. Walking through town, reaching the gay strip, it did not look quite so appealing. Then I saw another place I had read about. Commercial dance music filled the street, good-looking boys with diamond studs went in.

I needed to fortify my courage first. I had guzzled about one and a half bottles of fine red wine at home, I did not feel like taking to the stronger stuff quite yet. So I walked back to the central street of pubs and clubs, entered a bar I knew and liked but it was empty. So I poured down an overpriced Bacardi Cola and legged it back to the strip.

An attractive couple walked into the club just before me, and I followed. Out in the street, someone shouted "fags!", but I just smiled and got my drinks coins at the counter. It was about 12:30, the place was small, with a bar, a DJ booth in the corner and a small dance floor.

The clientèle was good-looking and mostly my age or younger. That felt good, because I was scared of ending up being the focal point of drunk, middle-aged, horny men. No need to worry about that here. An insecure fat kid was wondering around with a drink, clearly nervous. I was definitely not the only debutant.

The dancing was atrocious but the music was fine to get off on. I kept on drinking Bacardi Cola, and clearly hit it off with the rather effeminate bar tender. He just kept the drinks coming.

I could see boys were interested, but I'm quite an experienced club dancer so I was pretty noticeable among the rather stiff, Nordic swaying. Surprising, really, I thought I did not really stand out in this department.

And suddenly we were talking. He must have initiated this, but it was quite natural. Short, blond hair, blue eyes, good face. Shorter than me, younger than me. I told him about my lack of experience and he was reassuring. "You're still young." Then he had to go talk to a friend, and he said "be right back". Like hell, I thought, but didn't care.

About ten minutes later I saw him again. On the tiny stage. He beckoned me to come over, held out his hand and pulled me up. Then he went down himself to get us both a drink.

He came back with the drinks, I helped him up this time, and he got real close. "Do you mind?", he queried and of course I didn't.

He got closer, started touching my hands. "They're cold." I'm a pretty direct guy so I just pulled him in and we kissed. Then he started feeling me up under my shirt.

"Nice."

I was so relieved I'd been dieting for the last couple of weeks. I looked and felt pretty damn tight, sure of myself.

Being the taller one, I just turned him around, held him, and started inspecting his own body with my hands. Not disappointing, I can tell you that.

We made out like mad, groped, kissed, and were the centre of attention. Loved it, really.

He then asked me to come home with him. So I did.

TO BE CONTINUED.