A gay sex story: The Last Straw
“Oh, Chris,” tutted Geoff as he stepped into the car. “You could at least have shaven.”
“I did shave,” protested Chris. He put the car into drive. “Like three days ago.” He looked at his friend, who wore a bright orange tank top, Speedos, and flip-flops.
Comparatively, Chris felt like a schlub in the board shorts he got for $10 on clearance at Old Navy. But then, he never really knew how to dress himself; he was used to putting on jeans and a flannel shirt and calling it a day. He currently sported a wife beater, ratty baseball cap, swim trunks, and sneakers, eliciting a look of derision from his friend, who for his part had spent $100 on the new designer swimsuit that was practically vacuum-sealed to his package.
“People are going to think you’re my straight older brother or something. Why were you late, anyway? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago.”
“Game went into extra innings.”
“Oh my god, do you hear what you’re saying? You’re like a parody of yourself. Well, lucky for you I don’t mind having a little extra time to get ready and have a couple cocktails. Sigh. Chris, you’re so handsome; I will never understand why you insist on showing up to these parties, which you know are full of eligible bachelors, looking like you just rolled out of… well, I don’t even know where.”
“You know I don’t like going to these things,” complained Chris. “I never have anything in common with anybody. I always wind up getting drunk by myself while you go off and fuck some hot guy.’
“You could be fucking hot guys, too! You look great naked.”
“You’ve never seen me naked!”
“I’m trying to be positive, here! Chris, you’re cute, funny, and you have a… well, your body is just fine. Plus you have a great ass, and I can see that even with your clothes on.”
“I don’t bottom.”
“Well maybe you should start! You’re twenty-eight, for goodness’ sake. You need to stop being such a grumpy bear about everything.”
“Hey, I’m not a bear.”
“Keep drinking all that beer and you will be. You know, the cocktails I made tonight were just 70 calories each. And they tasted like pink lemonade!”
“I think I’ll stick with the beer.” Chris patted his friend on the shoulder and smiled. Geoff squeezed his friend’s hand.
…
Chris was always uncomfortable at these things. He sat awkwardly in the hot tub, rapidly draining his fifth beer. He winced and looked at the label on the bottle. “Only 64 Calories!” it proclaimed. That was another thing he hated about these parties: they always served the worst beer.
He had only come at Geoff’s insistence. “Come on,” he had said, “you haven’t gotten laid in months, and I’m the only gay friend you have.” Chris couldn’t argue; he hadn’t gotten laid in far too long. Naturally, Geoff had left Chris to his own devices some five minutes after arriving. He was currently engaged in conversation with a guy whose shoulders were the size of cantaloupes and whose Speedo looked like it was about to burst open. Chris sighed.
He looked down at his own body, barely visible through the bubbles that coated the surface of the hot water. Chris wasn’t in bad shape; just average. He made it to the gym about once a week. Fine; once every two. He was a sizeable guy, though. 6’2″, with long arms and legs and big hands and feet. And, he had to admit, a big ass. He had a good amount of light brown hair covering his chest, narrowing to a trail that led down his stomach into his baggy board shorts. That was another thing: it always seemed like every other gay guy at these patio parties wore swim suits comprised of less fabric than the napkin his beer sat on.
Said beer was disappointingly light in his hand. He looked; empty. He threw his head back and exhaled. Now he was going to have to get out of the tub. He rose slowly and lifted his legs out of the tub. His drenched board shorts sat low on his hips. He sauntered over to the cooler and opened it. He ran his hands through the ice. Come on, he thought, just one real beer, please? None. He sighed and grabbed three of the light “beers.” No point in getting out of the tub if he didn’t have to. He plopped himself back down into the hot tub, relishing the feel of the water jet against his chest, and popped open a bottle.
“Having a good time?”
Chris looked up. A thin, toned guy stood at the edge of the hot tub. Even from Chris’ vantage point, the guy looked to be on the short side. He wore a pair of lime green Speedo-type swim trunks that barely covered him. His chest was hairless. He looked young generally and had dirty blonde hair.
“Uh, I guess so.”
The guy stepped into the tub and sat next to Chris. “I’m Jamie. You looked lonely.”
“Just bored, really.” Huh, thought Chris. Jamie seemed to be a typical, twinky, zero-body-fat type of guy. Chris wondered if Jamie was interested in him, and if so, why. Almost suspicious. Jesus, Chris, he though to himself. No wonder you never get laid. Just relax. “Oh, uh, I’m Chris.” He extended his hand to shake Jamie’s. Smooth, he thought to himself, and cringed internally.
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Chris.” Jamie shook the extended hand. “Are you here alone?”
“No, I’m actually here with…” Chris scanned the party for Geoff. He saw his friend across the patio, his barely-clad ass gyrating as he made out with his former conversation partner. “A friend. What about you?”
“I’m new in town. I don’t know many of these guys aside from the host. You, uh, seemed to be the one person even more out-of-place than I am.”
Chris chuckled, “Yeah, thanks. You’re right, though. These parties aren’t really my scene.”
“Oh, come on. There are, like, almost thirty guys here, you can’t tell me that you can’t start up a conversation with any of them.”
“You got me. I’m just lazy.” Chris smiled, and they both laughed. Was this guy flirting with him? Huh.
Suddenly the attention of both guys was stolen by a commotion across the patio. “Come on, bitches!” a party-goer shouted. “Let’s see some ass!” With that, the drunk party guest stripped off his tight, boxy swim trunks and ran naked toward the pool that sat at the bottom of the patio steps. Cool water droplets from the pool landed on Chris’ bare chest in the wake of the young man’s cannonball. He sank a bit deeper into the hot tub to shield himself. Jamie shielded himself with his hands.
The young man’s actions had a domino effect among the rest of the party guests, who were hollering and dropping their own swimsuits as they ran to join their friend in the pool. Chris looked and saw Geoff’s bare ass before it disappeared into a spray of foam as his friend hit the water. He finished the first of his round of three beers. He looked to Jamie, who was elated.
“Come on!” said Jamie, turning again to face Chris. “Let’s join them!”
“Oh no. This is what I mean when I say these things aren’t my scene. You can go have fun if you want, but I’m not flashing my fat ass in front of a pool of twinks. I’m gonna stay here, warm and cozy with my beer.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun! Plus, I, uh, was kind of checking you out earlier, and you look like you have a great ass.” Jamie moved closer to Chris, his arm pressing against him. He put a hand on Chris’ chest and gave him a light kiss.