dontravis.com blog post #505
Once again, thank you for indulging me a personal post last week. It helped me more than I can explain.
This week, let’s get back to a short story, this one a two-parter. Hope you like it.
****
THE TEASE
I grabbed the guy’s wrist and
removed his hand from my fly where he’d been exploring for the last couple of minutes.
“Sorry, fella. You’re not my type.”
The blond guy with chiseled
features looked shocked. “Wha-what do you mean? You’ve been leading me on for
the last half hour.”
I assumed an innocent air.
“Really? Sorry about that, I gotta go join my friends now. They’ll be wondering
where I’ve gone.”
Ron or John or Don or whatever
his name was blinked in disbelief. “They’re sitting right over there at the
table in the corner.”
I glanced around the Upperclassman,
our favorite tavern. We were sitting on stools at the far end of the bar where
the dim lights made the game I’d been playing less obvious. Nonetheless, my
three buds at the table knew what I was doing.
Chuck,” Dickie said to me as I
slid into the booth to rejoin my college mates, “are you up to your old tricks
again?”
Darrell smirked. “Why do you
get off on teasing those guys?”
“Because it’s so damned easy
for him,” Bill said. “He’s better looking than most of the women in this place,
and sexy as hell.”
Darrell shifted his smirk to
Bill. “You saying you’d like to—”
“Hell no! I’m a dyed in the
wool hetero. But facts are facts. Chuck’s good looking and sexy.”
“Must be,” Dickie agreed, “or
he wouldn’t get them to drooling like they do.”
Them, of course, were
the gay patrons or students or library fairies who haunted rest rooms or sat
alone at bars. And it was true, I did get off on teasing them.
“What gets me,” Darrell said,
“is how he can fool the same dude half a dozen times.”
“Easy,” I said. “Just spread
your legs so they can get a look. Hope springs eternal, you know. Or so they
say.”
****
Saturday night, the four of us
claimed our usual booth at the Upperclassman, the neighborhood bar we favored.
We never dated on Saturday nights, although before the evening was over one or
more of us might make a hook up with some chick or the other. We’d just
finished our first round when the door opened, and in walked Wade Weatherman,
our college football team’s quarterback.
“See him?” Darrell asked.
“Hard not to,” I said.
Bill threw a thumb Wade’s way.
“There’s the only guy in the whole damned city that can give Chuck a run for
his money in the looks department.”
Wade noticed we were looking
at him and nodded.
“Think he’ll join us?”
That was quickly answered, Our
local football hero collected a beer and claimed a stool at the dim end of the
bar.
“Wonder why he’s alone Usually
a chick’s hanging off each arm,” Dickie said.
“Maybe he’s waiting for
someone,” Darrell suggested.
I smiled. “Nah. He’s looking
for something else.”
Bill speared me with a look.
“You’re not thinking he’s….”
“The hell I’m not. He’s
already glanced over here three or four times. Look, I’m gonna go place an
order for a round. But if I sit down beside him, one of you guys come collect
your drinks.”
Bill tried again. “You’re not
gonna….”
“What better target than some
jock who thinks he’s the cock of the walk. If I play this right, he’ll fall
hard.”
“That’s assuming he’s
looking.”
“He is,” I said. “Here I go.
Wish me luck.”
I locked eyes with Wade before
I was halfway across the room. I stood not three feet from him as I got the
bartender’s attention and ordered a round for the table. Then I turned and
faced my quarry.
“You’re Wade Weatherman, aren’t
you?”
He nodded and held out a hand.
“Guck Grieg,’ I said,
accepting his clasp and holding on to it a bit longer than necessary. He didn’t
fight me.
“Think I’ve seen you around,”
he said.
“Probably on the tennis
courts.”
His handsome face cleared.
“That’s it. Barbra and I were playing doubles last week, and you were on the
court next to us. You’ve got a killer serve.”
“Thanks. Don’t do bad,
yourself.” I eased down o the stool right beside him and snagged one of the
bottles the bartender put on the counter. Bill came over and collected the
others.
It was easy to get Wade
talking. I just mentioned last night’s football game, and he was off and
running. He was a pleasant guy, much nicer than I thought a super jock would
be. He asked my opinion on some details of the game and seemed genuinely
interested in my answers.
And right on cue, he twisted to
face me and opened his legs. It was too dark to really see anything, but it was
an invitation I’d often used on my marks. So I did the same, bumping knees as I
did so. He glanced downward for a moment. Natural enough, I guess. Jocks always
measure themselves against others.
Not long after that, I could
see he was getting anxious. He drained his glass and set it down.
“Come on, let’s blow this joint.”
Inuendo? I played
along. “Where to?”
“My place. I got some Coors on
ice.”
“On campus?”
“Naw. I got digs right off
campus on Roma. You game?”
I smiled. Perfect. I could
leave him at his place waiting for a no-show… me. “Why not? “Okay, but I’ll
take my own car.”
“Sure..” He gave me his
address and headed out the door.
I stopped by my table and
arched an eye at my buds. “He’s asked me to his place.”
“So what are you gonna do,
leave him in the lurch?”
I frowned. “That was the first
thing I thought of, but… but….”
Dickie laughed. “You’re gonna
go get him hot and bothered and then walk out the door.”
“Yeah,” Bill said.
“Just make sure you have an
exit ramp,” Darrell warned.
“Not a problem.”
As I slid into the front seat
of my Camero, I paused to rethink things. Yeah. This was better. If I just
never showed up, I wouldn’t get to see the look on his face when the big man on
campus got trashed. This way, I could get him all hot and bothered and just
walk out on him. He’d probably expose himself, and I could take a hike, leaving
him pulsing in the air.
****
Have
you ever known someone like that, someone who deliberately leads you own and
then walks away laughing. I did… a long time ago. Let’s see how his scheme
works out next week.
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Don
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