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Archive-name: Samesex/lastnite.txt


Archive-title: Last Night

Part I

	I'm sitting in my chair, nursing a vodka tonic, a drink I don't 

really like but makes me feel more mature, and I notice this guy's been 

looking at me for about twenty minutes now and while at first he made me 

uncomfortable, I'm slowly getting used to it.  The song they're playing is 

called "Fingerfoc" and it's by a band that calls itself Friends of 

Carlotta.  I don't know what this means but it is danceable nonetheless.

	I want to get up and dance, but I don't want to leave my drink 

sitting there and they're not allowed on the dance floor--drinks that is.  

I look back to my right and he's still looking at me.  He maintains the 

stare long enough to let me know he's looking at me and then I guess he 

get's nervous because he turns and looks away after a few more seconds.  

	I suck down the last of the vodka and then take an ice cube into my 

mouth before getting up to dance to "Warlock" by Skinny Puppy.  I have this 

problem with the video that accompanies this song because it is so 

outrageously violent and sadistic, but somehow I'm still drawn to it.  I 

wish I could explain the emotion.

	Another emotion I wish I could explain was how I feel about this 

man who's been watching me.  He's not bad looking, but that's not always a 

clear sign as to what one can expect personality-wise.  The song ends and I 

notice that he's been watching me dance and that makes me feel really 

uncomfortable because I feel like I've been put on display for him and that 

does nothing for me except make me feel like a piece of meat and I tend to 

think of myself (most of the time) as a little bit more than that.

	I wonder if I want to get to know this guy and really before I have 

a chance to decide the matter for myself, he walks up to me and asks me if 

he can buy me a drink.  I'm not a fool and I'm running short on funds so I 

acquiesce by letting him buy me a rum and coke(T).  He comes back a few 

minutes later, sets the drink down and then ever-so-politley asks me if he 

may sit down.  I ask myself what it can hurt, and I would have trouble 

telling a total stranger that just spent four dollars on me to fuck off 

completely.  I owe him so much.  

	He sits down and for about a minute just ignores me.  At first I'm 

dumbfounded.  Is this all he wanted, literally just to sit down beside me?  

How queer.

	About the time I complete this thought he turns to me and says, 

	"So, what's your name?"

	"Chris.  What's yours?"

	"Mike, my name's Mike."

	I just nodded.  I didn't really know how to respond to this whole 

thing.  It was something I wanted, but it was something I was afraid of.

	"So," I said, "Do you come here just for the music or the people?"

	"The music, I really like the music.  Why do you come here?"

	"Well, when I first started coming, it was to try and meet people, 

but after a while I kind of gave up on that and now I just concentrate on 

having a good time."

	"Do you usually have a good time when you come here?"

	I replied with a smile and left it at that.  One of those smiles 

I've patented where I purse my lips on one side of my face and the rest of 

my lips are left to cross to my ears in a straight horizontal line.

	"How long have you been coming here?" I ask.

	"Well, I first started coming here about a year and a half ago and 

at first it was like you said, I started coming here to meet people, but i 

learned that there were certain nights you came to have fun and there were 

certain nights you came when you wanted to pick somebody up."

	"So what kind of night is tonight?"  I asked.

	"I decline to answer," he offered.

	"I decline to let you continue unless you answer," I offered.

	"Can I tell you later."


	"So how old are you?"  Mike asked.

	"Nineteen.  How old are you?"

	"Twenty-two.  Do you have a fake or something?"


	"Aren't you afraid you'll get caught using it?"

	"That's not something I worry about too much.  Why were you looking 

at me?"

	"Because I find you atractive."

	"Really?  What about me do you find attractive?" I was more than 

just a little curious as to what another man would find attractrive about 


	"I don't know, just something about the way you look."


	"I don't know."

	"So you're gay?" I asked him, as if by now it wasn't more than just 

a little apparent.

	"Yeah.  You?"

	"Yeah.  I couldn't say that about a month ago, but I'm getting 

better at that.  Do your parents know?"

	"Why should they?  It's none of their business who I'm sleeping 

with.  If I moved in with some guy then I guess I might mention it to them, 

but otherwise, I don't think it's anything dear old mom and pop need to 

wrestle with.  Do your parents know?"

	"Hell no!  That's the last thing I think I would care to drop on my 

parents at Thanksgiving or some other family-oriented holiday like that."

	"Say," he said, and I can't believe he said it, "Do you want to go 

some where else and talk?" 

        Me being the idiot and completely naive, thinking, oh yeah sure, 

says, "Yeah, I guess, where do you want to go?"

	"Well we could go to my place."

	"You're place?  Where do you live?"

	"Over near Ludlow Heights.  Do you know the area?"

	"Yeah," I looked up to the sky.

	"Do you want to follow me there?"

	"Sure," I said, "sure."

	I got up, conscious and sure that everyone in the club was watching 

us and knew that I'd let him pick me up and that we were going back to his 

apartment for probably more than just an in-depth discussion on East-Asian 

politics or something like that.  No, the hard-on in my pants had to have 

given this one away.  Never until this point had I thought my dick was this 

big, but then whenever I would prefer to be a little less noticeable, I'm 

usually a little more noticeable.

	The whole drive over to Ludlow Heights, one which typically takes 

only about ten minutes, I kept contemplating whether or not I should just 

turn off and go home.  I just didn't have a good feeling about this and I 

kept thinking what a sleaze I must seem to be.  Here I've known this guy a 

whole ten minutes and I'm following him home for what will most likely be a 

night of torid, disgusting, (wonderful, exuberant, fantifying) SEX.

	Of course I didn't turn off before I got there and I pulled up 

right behind him with a huge grin on my face when I got out of my car.

	He also seemed just a bit happy by the whole situation, and I don't 

know if I could blame him: he'd been watching me and he'd wanted me and 

he'd gotten me.  (I think.  I think I've made up my mind.)

	I walked into his room and one of the first things I did was to 

turn on one of the lights because I trusted him, but one can't be too 

careful.  He asked me if I wanted anything to drink and I declined, then 

changed my mind and took a glass of water from him.  I walked around his 

apartment, fascinated by the way it seemed that this gay man lived his life 

as normally as any heterosexual man.  The only give-away as far as I could 

tell were the two pornographic magazines that he had laying on his kitchen 

counter.  I asked him if he masturbated and he shyly replied yes, he 

reciprocated the question in my favor.  I said yes matter-of-factly and 

moved on through the apartment to take in as much as I could.

	I sat down on his couch and asked if I could take off my shoes.  He 

told me I could do whatever I wanted and I took that as a sign of his 

submissiveness although I knew that if anything was going to happen, I 

wasn't going to be the one to insigate anything.

	I slouched down on the couch and spilled the drink into my throat 

taking in the lushness of the water.  He knelt down in front of me and began 

to massage my feet.  The glass in my hand went to lay against the back of 

the couch ad my head went back also to stare at the ceiling.  I didn't 

remember a foot massage as being so sensual.

	He took my socks off.  I started to protest to his disrobing, but i 

had trouble being so hypocritical considering the difficulty I was having 

once again hiding my manhood.  Is manhood an oxymoron in the present 


	My heart started beating faster when I realized he wasn't just 

interested in my feet anymore and that he had started massaging my calves 

and was working his wonderfully powerful hands up my legs and making me 

feel incredibly relaxed considering the situation.

	He told me that he couldn't have me feeling so uncomfortable and 

that if I would just relax I would enjoy myself a whole lot more.  Then he 

asked me if there was anything I would prefer he not do.  I said "no."  I 

said, "Do whatever you like."

	 I guess he took that as a sign of my submisiveness and that's 

probably the point that the whole eveing took a differnt route.  

	He stopped just rubbing my legs but put his mouth to my jeans as if 

he were kissing me although I have a hard time saying he was kissing my 

jeans.  Anyway, I was incredibly turned on, but I continued to just look up 

at the ceiling and turn my head and take in what was going on.  

	As his head moved over my genitals I thought I was going to come 

right there in my pants but he didn't stare there long, instead he just 

untucked my shirt and then proceeded to plant tiny little kisses all over 

my chest and my nipples.  He unbuttoned my shirt and soon it was off.  

	I wanted to have his mouth on mine.  I wanted to touch him, to feel 

him, to taste him, to have him.  I didn't know for sure how to proceed so I 

just did what felt right.  I leaned forward and slowly, passionately I 

kissed him on the lips.  We broke the kiss for him to kiss my neck as it 

fell back, suddenly going limp.  Again he worked his way down my chest and 

this time when he got to my belly-button, he began to work at my belt to 

take it off.  Usually in this situation I like to help my attacker, but I 

let him do it himself as I wanted my throbbing cock to be free of its 


	When he got the belt undone, he unbuttoned my pants and pulled them 

off, along with my green-plaid boxers.  My penis lay there.  Hot, wet, 

wanting to be sucked.  (Suddenly seeming sadly smaller.)  He did what I 

wanted and I thought I was going to go nuts.  He slipped his mouth over my 

erect penis and I swear at that very instant I shuddered.  He went up and 

down, back and forth over my dick, licking and sucking.  I came in his 

mouth.  I didn't want to, not so soon, but I did it anyway and enjoyed it, 

went nuts over it, went to him to kiss him, to share with him my scalding 

hot fuck-juice.  He hadn't swallowed it all and I did taste my own come.  

Liking it, loving it, wanting his.  

     	"," I asked him between 


	(Gasp.) "Sure."

	I picked myself up and started to follow him, but before we left 

the room I turned him around and grabbed the back of his neck to kiss him 

some more.  His hands ran the course of my now naked body. 

	"Fuck me," he moaned, "I want you to fuck me."

	"Whatever, anything you want...."


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