Disclaimers: This work is a work of fiction and is my property.
The story and characters are fictitious and any resemblance to anyone or any actual event is coincidental. There are three distinctly different main characters that will appear as the story progresses.
You should be legally allowed to read this type of material before continuing.
As it is based on an actual book, I had published a few years ago -- free for your enjoyment -- the story will not contain explicit material in all the chapters BUT don't fret, as it is more the exception than the rule.
Note that in one chapter to come, there will be a sexually violent scenario. If this will trigger any trauma for you, please be aware of it before you start reading.
Please direct any comments or feedback to my email address at davidrolsynauthor2019@gmail.com.
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CHAPTER TWELVE
Joshua Taylor
After about a week of being back in the same, boring routine again, I'm desperate to get out. I regret not having given Kyle my number but I couldn't risk him getting the wrong idea. Anyway, he was just a piece of eye candy to help spruce up my sex life. Luckily, I didn't call out his name again during sex with Stacey.
I'm at home tonight, sitting next to Stacey on the couch. We're binge watching The Vampire Diaries. The cast is real attractive, but the constant angst is annoying. Damon is about the only guy I can relate to. Sort of.
I've got to get out for a bit. But what can I think of as a viable excuse for me to leave Stacey and go out? I'm still wracking my brain when my phone buzzes.
"Hi."
It's one of our studio suppliers. He apologizes for calling so late and tells me he noticed we hadn't ordered more print developer from him this month and wanted to know if there was a problem.
An idea comes to mind.
"No, no problem. I'll check and get back to you."
He instinctively reads between the lines, tells me to have a great evening and hangs up.
I turn to Stacey.
"Sorry, babe, but I have to go to the studio to check some of our stock. We might have forgotten to order developer and I'll be in deep shit if we run out this weekend."
"You have to go now?" she groans.
"Yeah, unfortunately. If I don't, we may not have enough time to get some before the weekend and that will piss off our customers."
I get up and change from my sweats into jeans and my signature blue T-shirt. I give Stacey a peck on the cheek, grab her keys, and head out.
"I'll miss you," she calls after me.
"Me too!" I holler.
I switch the music on full blast in the car. A night out dancing is just the thing for me tonight!
This time I head out south and start looking for a club that is kind of age-appropriate for me. A long queue of people is waiting outside. I park the car a block away and make my way to join the line.
A beautiful brunette standing a short distance ahead of me starts vying for my attention. "Hey there, sexy! Come and stand with us."
Smiling, I push past about five guys standing in front of me and join her and her friends. I ignore all the disgruntled objections and focus on the confident, giggling girls. We chat away while we wait.
A big, bald and strapping bouncer spots one of the girls. The blue light from a neon sign falls across his ebony skin.
"Hey, Mags, why you waiting there, girl?! Come right up and bring your friends with you. You know you don't have to wait in line sweet-cheeks."
Oh, so maybe an ex-girlfriend?
Mags gestures for us to follow her and we pass everyone in line. More loud, disgruntled moans are directed at us, as we head towards the front and climb the short flight of stairs that lead into the club.
It's great to be sexy.
Once inside, I ditch the brunette after about 45 minutes. She's far too interested in me and definitely wants to make something of this. Now, a quick fuck in the toilet would have been nice but looking at the way she stares at me with the dreamy eyes, hanging onto every word I say and laughing at all my jokes, I can see she's the type who wants the flowers, the kisses, and the babies in the end, even if she thinks she doesn't.
I'm sitting on a moon-shaped couch in the semi-VIP area and finish off my second beer. A guy is heading my way. He has pitch-black hair and is nicely built. At about my height, he's wearing snug fitting black pants and a tight, black, V-neck T-shirt, accentuating his pecs and biceps.
He just flops down next to me, beer in hand, but keeps a reasonable distance.
"I hope you don't mind, pal, but I'm tired of standing around all night, waiting for some chick to make up her mind whether she wants some of this or not," he says, pointing to his body.
I laugh. "Sure, man. No hassles."
"I'm Tom." He extends his hand.
"Joshua." We shake.
We nurse our drinks in silence for a while.
"You here alone?" he asks before taking a sip of his beer.
"Yip. I needed to get out of the house for a while. My girlfriend and I were just sitting at home and I needed some excitement. You know how it is?"
He nods. "Hey, why don't we go check out some of the other clubs, man? The pussy to prick ratio in here is seriously not in our favor tonight and honestly, I'm so not in the mood to sit around and wait for someone to make a move. Two fit guys like us should be having the bitches gagging for it." He winks at me assuredly.
I smile. Definitely a kindred spirit. "I couldn't agree more."
With that we down our beers and head out into the night.
After having walked a few blocks, we pass what's obviously a gay club. The rainbow flags and pink neon name above the door is a dead giveaway. We're on the opposite side of the street, and the guys standing and smoking outside the club's entrance are checking us out. They're definitely having a good look, and I straighten up a little more to accentuate my package and butt. Tom instinctively does the same.
We turn to each other.
"I've got a wicked idea. Since we obviously like the `admiration,' why don't we spice things up a bit? It's all fine and well having the chicks gawk at us, but what about those faggots over there."
With a vicious smile, he says, "Hell yes, why not? Show them what they're missing."
So, we cross the street, and the anticipation on our onlookers' faces is palpable. We even get a few catcalls from some of the guys.
We casually take it in stride and quickly go inside. I'm sure they appreciate some good man-beef to spruce up the club's rep. I chuckle to myself.
There are men everywhere, mostly young guys between eighteen and thirty-five years old. I eventually notice a couple of lesbians and some fag-hags scattered around. Here and there an old-timer stares wistfully at all the tenderloins parading around. Some young bucks are barely dressed, making the temptation even more alluring for these filthy old grandpas.
Tom and I grab a beer at the bar and turn around to have a good look at the colorful scene in front of us. Guys in tight, skimpy outfits, guys in normal-dude clothing, guys in drag, all kinds... I struggle to distinguish the queeny ones from the macho ones and laugh at how absurd this all appears!
We get a lot of attention, so I decide to take it up notch.
"Follow my lead!" I take off my T-shirt and toss it to the cute barman. Tom hesitates for a second, but does the same. Nice abs.
He's obviously a good sport. This is going to be fun.
I jokingly grab his hand and lead him to the dance floor. He quickly catches on. We both want to piss ourselves with laughter, but manage to control the urge with much effort and are only just able to present our mock "serious-sexy" faces to each other and the horny queers around us. Facing each other, we start dancing.
I feel hundreds of eyes on us, and I start gyrating to some deafeningly loud Gloria Gaynor classic. Tom matches me thrust for thrust, and we really go at it.
I grind into him and we start moving our hips in unison. We both flex our muscles, as we grab each other's waists and rub our pricks against each other. Wild!
He's getting semi-hard, whereas mine is already at full attention. When he feels that I'm hard, he frowns uncomfortably, but then seems to assume that it's all just play-pretend and that I'm acting out a scene, and he relaxes.
We carry on dancing like this until we're drenched in sweat. Some of it even splashes off our bodies like sprays of tiny diamonds. The full effect beneath the colorful lights must look heavenly to our captive audience. We've been dancing for about eight or nine tracks by now.
The horny looks from the guys around us are encouraging, but I decide we desperately need a small break and some serious rehydration.
When we arrive at the bar, we find two fresh beers already waiting for us.
"These are on the house," says the cute bartender with a wink.
Bingo!
"This is cool, man!" Tom takes a swig of his beer.
"I know!" Ah, the benefits of being the hottest real men in a homo club.
We get chatted up by many guys and are even offered an orgy with some fit-looking twinks! We just play unavailable and elusive, but still continue to flirt with heavy sexual innuendo. Eventually we return to the dance floor.
We must have been there for a couple of hours when we decide to quit.
I get close enough to whisper in his ear, "I think we've enjoyed ourselves enough, don't you? Let's go before we get ourselves into a situation we might regret."
"Agreed!" he shouts back.
We put our T-shirts back on to a loud, unified, unhappy groan from the patrons.
We smile as we leave, and I walk Tom back to the original club where we met.
"You're a genius, man!" he says.
"I know." I wink at him.
"See you around." And with that I head off to the car.
I get home late, and Stacey's already asleep with a book on her lap and her glasses askew on her face.
I take them off and put them on top of the book, on the side table.
I kiss her and she starts waking up. Before she has a chance to ask me what time it is or why I've been gone so long, I put her hand on my hard-on and we focus on what comes next - fucking like gerbils! And then pass out.
Two days later I get home from the gym and find Stacey waiting for me in the bedroom. The usual smell of dinner cooking is missing. Is it that time of the month? No, that was two weeks ago, so it can't be. Usually when that happens she wants take-out and sits on the couch curled up in pain with a heating pad. I normally just leave her be.
Something must be seriously wrong. She's sitting on the bed, looking out the window.
"Hey. How was your day?" I ask as I put my gym bag down.
She slowly turns to me. Her eyes are red and raw from crying.
Fuck.
"You tell me, Joshua."
My stomach clenches. Stacey never uses my name.
"Well, how would I know? You're the one sitting here crying." I try and sound annoyed.
"You remember going out the day before yesterday to go look at some stock at the studio? The night you came home so late?"
"Yes." Let me see where this is going...
"Jessica saw you at some gay club dancing with another guy." Her eyes are full of accusation.
Oh shit.
"And don't try to deny it because Jessica's gay friend, I forgot his name, was also there and he knows who you are!!"
"Yes, so?" I ask in a nonchalant tone.
No point in denying it. Jessica has been friends with Stacey since pre-school and I can't pull the "she must've made a mistake" line on her. In fact, Jessica must've relished the thought of telling Stacey because she's never really liked me. She once told Stacey that she only trusted me as far as she could see me.
"Is that all you've got to say to me?" Her eyes are now ablaze.
"Well, what do you want to hear?" I respond likewise.
"The truth, Joshua. Why were you there and why'd you lie to me?"
I tap my fingers against my thigh. Quick thinking needed.
"I did go to the studio, but I bumped into a customer from work when I stopped to have a quick beer at the bar nearby. We had a good laugh at two guys checking us out and got it in our heads to go mess with the queers for a bit at a gay club, like I said, for a laugh! It was just some harmless fun. We gave them something to drool over and left. Don't you remember you and I did some serious fucking later that night?"
"Seriously!?! You expect me to just take that as your explanation? I thought it was strange you getting home horny as hell and waking me up for it. And again, you wanted to do it in my ass...?!? What's happening to you?"
"What are you insinuating?!" I sort of fake my anger.
"You know exactly what I'm asking."
I step towards her. "You saying I'm a faggot!" Her eyes widen, but she persists. "Well, what do you think I should believe about all this? It's like I don't even know you anymore." She looks away.
"I can't believe you think I'm a faggot! Surely the sex is enough to prove I'm not? Have I ever had a problem getting it up? If I was a faggot, it wouldn't be possible."
"Not necessarily. Jessica and that one gay friend of hers slept together a few times in high school before he realized he was gay," she manages between her sobs.
I clench my hands into fists. "Well, I'm not fucking gay, Stacey! OK??" Now I'm really shaking with anger and my muscles are wound up so tight, I have to fight back the urge to strike her.
There's a hint of fear in her tear-filled eyes. Good.
"You want me to show you I'm no faggot?!" With that, I leap at her and push her down onto the bed. I start kissing her mercilessly and I grope her all over the place. After grabbing one breast, I pinch her nipple hard through the fabric of her tank top. With my other hand, I grip the back of her ass and find my way towards her cooch.
She tries to resist me and her knee rises up between my legs.
Oh, no you don't! I suddenly let go of her and jump to my feet. "Oh, so what...now I'm not good enough for your prissy little ass?!"
She stares at me, eyes wide, bewildered with fear. "Get out, Joshua. Get out!" she screams at me.
For a split-second I wonder if I should just force myself onto her to prove my point, but decide to back off. I think she got the message. She must've felt my raging hard-on through her shorts. C'mon!
She just needs to calm down. I grab her car keys and leave.
Where the fuck do I go?
It hits me. I'm free for the night while she tries to come to her senses. I head out to the multiplex to see what's showing. There's bound to be some action or horror movie on that'll kill some time.
I walk up to the box office and ask the guy what's showing. The little shit is annoyed but I don't give a fuck. After he gives me a rundown of the movies, I go watch an action movie with Jason Statham in it. I actually end up enjoying it. I get a kick out of action films with some comedy in it.
After the movie, I head back home and find her asleep. I don't wake her up, just climb in behind her and hold her. She stiffens a little but then slowly relaxes.
All is well. Tomorrow I'll just lay on the romance again and soon enough all will be forgotten.