8 comments/ 47187 views/ 24 favorites Rain Check By: dopplergaydar You know how you can see someone every day, and in one sudden instant your outlook of them completely changes? I know that feeling all too well. About six months ago I joined a gym in an attempt to drop 30 pounds before my 10 year high school reunion. Along with the gym membership I could attend any of their classes for free. I always hated cardio classes because I'm very clumsy and the instructors are impossible to keep up with. I decided on taking a weight lifting class. Now, being VERY into girls, the first thing I noticed was that the instructor for this class, Kristen, was very cute. Kristen is fairly tall, late 20s, about 5'10", about 130 lbs, and has short red hair and dark eyes. Being a fitness instructor, it is a given that her body is smokin' hot. She isn't overly muscled as one may think, but she's toned in all the right places. When I walked into the group fitness room, Kristen was already there setting up for class. She greeted me warmly and asked if I was new to the class. I said that I was, and she gave me the rundown on what to expect. I ended up absolutely loving the class, and it became part of my weekly routine. As I continued going to the gym, I also noticed that Kristen was a personal trainer there. When I see other trainers around the gym with their clients, I noticed how uncaring they seemed. They provided no motivation at all. They were basically robots who told them what to do and counted off reps. Kristen was not like this at all. She genuinely seemed to care about each of her clients, and would explain each move she had her clients do and tell them what muscles the move focused on, etc. It made me wonder if I could benefit from Kristen's expertise. One day, after weightlifting class, I had a random spurt of energy and decided to run on a treadmill for a little bit before heading home. After about 10 minutes my energy was finally depleted. I walked to the locker room and turned a corner to get to my row of lockers. Around the corner, I saw Kristen sprawled out on a bench looking absolutely wiped out. I giggled, which turned her attention to me. She gave me a sheepish grin. "I didn't think it was possible," she said "But today I succeeded in kicking my own ass." I fell head over heels for Kristen in that instant. I can't put my finger on it, but I'm sure it had something to do with how weak and vulnerable she seemed as opposed to the strong woman I'm used to seeing. I laughed and sat on the bench next to her. "Well, it's nice to see that you're actually human and not just a mean lean weightlifting machine." I replied. She gave a hearty laugh, and I realized this was the first time I had heard her laugh. It was a wonderful sound which complimented her heart shaped mouth nicely. I knew I had to get closer to her. "I'm actually glad I caught up with you. I wanted to ask, are you taking on new personal training clients?" Kristen's eyes flickered and she sat up. "Yes! Are you interested?" she asked. "I am." I replied. "I initially joined this gym with the intent on dropping some weight before my high school reunion. Your classes are helping a lot, but I feel I need a bit more guidance." "This is so great. You won't believe this, but I've actually seen a lot of potential in you from the way you're progressing in weightlifting and from what I've seen of your workouts around the gym. I wanted to ask if you had considered hiring a personal trainer, but I didn't want you to think I was just after your money." I laughed. "Well then, looks like this will work well for both of us. When can we start?" We went back to her office to discuss pricing and training times. As she was making up the documents, I noticed she was left handed. I also noticed the huge rock she wore on her ring finger. All the fantasies I was beginning to have about her vanished as my heart sank. Married. Hitched. Taken. Bummer. After a few one-on-one sessions with her, my fantasies returned. Of course I would never act on any of them, but it was hard to ignore that this girl was completely awesome. In addition to good looks, she was also wickedly smart. Not just about training and nutrition, but she had an MBA as well. We also shared the same sense of humor, and we sometimes got so involved in conversing and joke telling that we'd forget where we were in the workout. It was hard for me to keep my feelings in check. I'd often catch myself blatantly checking her out. Sometimes I felt like she would have to be blind not to notice, but she never changed her behavior in any way. Months later, in the present time, I'm 25 pounds thinner and pretty darn buff. Kristen's work on me is nothing short of miraculous. For the first time in my life I feel SEXY. Being short, only 5'2", it always seemed like every pound looked massive on me. At my heaviest, I was "only" 150 lbs, but on my short frame it did not look good at all. During these past few weeks Kristen has been complimenting my progress left and right. I always tell her I owed it all to her, and she reminds me of how I worked my ass off (quite literally) to get where I am. Tonight was my last session with Kristen, and I was pretty bummed about it. The logical side of me realized that it was probably for the best, and maybe my fantasies about her would end and I could focus on finding an actual gay and unmarried girlfriend. It didn't help, though, that Kristen kept saying how much she was going to miss working with me. Soon, the hour was up and I was putting my things away. Kristen was giving me a few last minute tips to continue to focus on. I thanked her for everything and told her I would see her in weightlifting class. As I turned to leave, she touched my arm. "Wait." she said. "Since we officially no longer have a business relationship, I was wondering if I could take you out for a victory drink tonight, as a friend and not your trainer." My heart skipped a couple beats. I regained control of my thoughts. "I thought you didn't like it when I drink. You know, empty calories and all." I smirked. Kristen laughed. "Remember, I'm just your friend now and not your trainer. And I know you like your booze." "That I do." I chuckled. "Of course I'll have a drink with you. When and where?" We made our plans and I left in a daze. As I was showering back home, I realized this would be the first time I would see Kristen in her regular clothes instead of workout gear. This idea excited me. Every few minutes I had to remind myself of that rock on her left hand. She had mentioned her husband several times in the months I worked out with her. They seemed to have a very happy relationship and there's no way I could compete with that, even if I wanted to. And, I really didn't want to. One of my pet peeves has always been married women who cheat on their husbands with women because "it doesn't really count" according to them. I swore to myself long ago that I would never put myself in that kind of situation. Regardless, it was a non-issue with Kristen. I just needed a tight reign on my hormones, especially with a couple drinks in me. It was a chilly October evening, so I dressed in a tight knit sweater, jeans, & boots. I gave myself the once-over before I left, taking in the fact that I was very pleased with the way I looked. This new me is definitely taking some getting used to. I drove to the bar we agreed to meet at and walked in. Kristen was already there. She hadn't seen me yet, so I took that opportunity to check her out. She was wearing a white babydoll shirt, skinny jeans, & a black leather jacket. She had on maroon tinted lip gloss that made her heart shaped lips a little too inviting. I mustered up my best swagger and walked her way. When she caught my eye, her face brightened. "Well hey there sexy Annie!" she exclaimed. "Hey there yourself. It's funny. You are a total babe and you still look like you could break out and kick someone's ass at any second." I replied. Kristen laughed hard. "You know I could. I might just have to the way some of these men have been staring at me. I try to gesture or pull my hair back with my left hand hoping they'd see the ring, but it sure hasn't stopped them from oogling." "Pigs." I scoffed. Kristen laughed again and held my gaze for what seemed like a couple seconds too long. Our evening was a blast. Conversation with her was quick and easy. The bar was riddled with our laughter several times. By our third drink, I noticed some subtle changes in Kristen's behavior. She was speaking lower, almost in a seductive manner. She was quick to giggle at anything remotely funny that I said. She frequently nibbled and licked at her lips, and her gazes became longer and longer. Now, I've been out of the dating scene for a long time, but I swear I remember these are signs of flirting. I tried to convince myself that the gin and tonics were just making me see what I wanted to see, and these things meant nothing. What seemed like one hour turned into four, and we reluctantly agreed that we should call it a night. We paid our tab and headed out. Once outside, Kristen laughed. "It's funny, this seemed more like a date than anything I've done with my husband in years." she said. Shocked, I laughed nervously. "Yeah, it did kind of seem like a date, didn't it? It was nice." Kristen bit her lip and moved closer to me. "So tell me, Annie, do you kiss on a first date?" I was dumbfounded. I laughed again. "Are...are you...serious?" Kristen slid her arm around my back. "Very. I've had a bit of a crush on you for months, and forgive me if I'm wrong, but I believe the feeling is quite mutual. Isn't it?" I was now standing very close to her and could feel her body heat radiating off of her. The night had gotten cold, and I had forgotten a jacket. Being short, I was pretty much eye level with her chest. I was trying to avoid eye contact with her as I was quickly sorting out my thoughts. I hadn't realized it, but I was staring at her breasts. Kristen tilted my head up to meet her eyes. "And that's exactly what I'm talking about." she chuckled. "You may think you're being sneaky when your eyes linger on me when you think I'm not looking, but you're not fooling me." I begin to feel a little sick. I had indeed been very foolish to think she never noticed me checking her out dozens of times in the few months I've been working out with her. This made me no better than the men she condemned in the bar. Then, I remembered she was holding me. "Annie, it's ok. I like your attention. I like your wit. I like your determination. I just like YOU. And if it's ok with you, I'd really like to kiss you now." I swallowed hard. I couldn't think of anything to say, so I moved in to consent to her kiss. It has been awhile since I have kissed anyone, let alone on a cold night, so I was surprised at how warm her mouth was. She was a very passionate kisser, who had no hesitancy in kissing another woman at all. My mind was reeling and I kept on trying to remind myself to enjoy this moment. Her hand that had been holding my chin up slid down my neck, and I felt the cold metal of her wedding ring. Her ring. I broke the kiss, but did not back out of her embrace. "Kristen, your husband..." I said breathlessly. Kristen frowned & nodded slowly. "I understand your concern about that. It's...it's kind of a long story. The short of it, I love him. He's my best friend. But that's really all he is. I like women and I always have. I married him for convenience, and every day I'm reminded of what a mistake that was. I'm not in love with him and haven't been for a long time...if I ever really was." My heart ached for her. Her situation had caught me completely off guard. I put my hand behind her head and reached up to meet her lips again. I felt a tear spill from her eye and hit my cheek, and I struggled against tearing up myself. I slid my arms around her waist and stroked her lower back. This time Kristen broke the kiss, but she planted small kisses along my jaw and grazed my neck with her lips and tongue. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this, Annie." she practically whispered as she nibbled my neck. "You have no idea how long I've been fantasizing about this." I breathed. "It doesn't have to end here." she said with tinge of urgency in her voice. "We could get a room, stay the night somewhere. Just see where the night leads us." She grips my shoulders tightly and meets my lips again for another deep kiss. "What do you say?" "I...I...need to take a rain check, Kristen." ************************ My mind was on fire as I drove home. Thoughts were going through my head like crazy and I couldn't focus on one before another took center stage. I was halfway home when I thought it could have all been a dream, a vivid vision. However, I still have the taste of whiskey on my lips, even though I was drinking gin. I could still smell her perfume on me. Kristen. My crush. My SAFE crush, the one nothing could ever happen with. What the hell had just happened? More importantly, why the hell did I run when she wanted more??? I knew why. I got scared. It's been a very long time since I have been with a woman. Between work, maintaining a social life, and working out a lot I really didn't have time for a relationship. It felt like a lot of pressure put on me all at once. By the time I got home I had calmed down somewhat. I pulled on some pj's, but I didn't brush my teeth. The taste of Kristen was still on my lips and tongue and I didn't want to get rid of that quite yet. I climbed in bed clutching the sweater I had been wearing because it still smelled like her. I buried my face in the sweater and ran my tongue over my lips. Instinctively, my hand crept under the waistband of my pants. I moaned into the sweater as my fingers brushed my clit. The last thing I thought before I drifted to sleep was that it could be her hand doing this to me at that moment if I had only stayed. When I woke up in the morning it took me a few minutes of random thoughts for the events of last night to catch up with me. I pulled my sweater to my face & inhaled. Her perfume was still faintly there. I looked at my watch, which showed me it was already 8:06. As the boss, I could go in whenever I wanted. I trusted my team, and know they get work done even when I'm not there. But, as a workaholic I always tried to get there by 8:00. I got out of bed and got ready for the day, trying to get my mind out of girl mode and into work mode. I greeted my team as I made my way to my office. I closed the door and turned on my computer. I brought up my work email and skimmed through the 19 emails that came in overnight. After I was done with those I brought up my personal email. My heart skipped a beat when I saw I had an email from Kristen waiting for me. I couldn't stop a big grin from spreading across my face as I opened the email. "Annie, thank you for the wonderful evening. I really, truly, hope that I did not make you uncomfortable or cross any major lines. I couldn't read what you were feeling when you left. You told me you wanted to take a rain check on picking up where we left off. I hope you still feel that way. Kristen" I leaned back in my chair, still smiling. I hit reply, but I realized I had no idea what I was going to say. My office door suddenly opened, it was my assistant Amber. "Hey, Annie, did you read the email about the...whoa what's with the megawatt smile?? Wait...you stroll in here an hour later than usual, looking like you didn't get much sleep. Now you're in here smiling like you swallowed a canary. Spill it, who is she?" I laughed. "Christ, am I really that easy to read?" I filled her in on last night's events. I had mentioned Kristen to her just in passing, about how she was my personal trainer. I never mentioned my crush on her until now. "Oh I'm totally going to be living vicariously through you for a bit." Amber said after I finished my story. "So, you gave her a rain check, eh? When are you going to make good on that?" "I don't know...soon? I don't want her to change her mind waiting on me to get my shit together." I replied. Amber gave me a few sexually suggestive ideas to say to Kristen in my response to her email. We joked around for a few minutes and then got back to business. As soon as she left my office, my mind went from business right back to how I was going to respond to Kristen's email. "Kristen, thanks for writing. Honestly I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I'm sorry if I hurt you or made you double think your actions by leaving the way I did. Everything just happened really fast and I didn't know what to do. I was absolutely serious about the rain check. We'll talk soon. Annie." After sending the email, I tried to concentrate on work for a bit. At 1:00 my stomach reminded me that I had skipped breakfast. I headed out for my lunch break, and I decided that I wanted to eat at the sandwich shop connected to my gym. I arrived there and put in my order for a half sandwich and smoothie combo. As I waited for my food, I looked out at the rest of the gym through the large glass windows of the sandwich shop. It didn't take long before I spotted Kristen with one of her clients. I felt another smile tug at my mouth. I couldn't believe that about 12 hours ago I was in her arms getting well acquainted with her lips. My food came out and I sat at a table with a view of the gym. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. I was deep in the thought that soon I would get to act out the fantasies I had been having about her for the past few months. She was finishing up with her client, and she walked past the sandwich shop. When her eyes locked on me she nearly ran into the window. She beamed at me and held a finger up, signaling not to leave until she was done with her client. She disappeared into her office for about five minutes, then came back to the sandwich shop and sat at my table. "Oh my God, what are you trying to do to me? I was NOT expecting to see you here!" she exclaimed. "I was hungry and started craving a sandwich from here. And, not going to lie, I was hoping to see you." Kristen beamed. "I saw your email a bit ago. I was so relieved." She lowered her voice. "I really thought I blew it there for a sec." She said as she briefly touched my leg. I knew that she didn't want anyone who worked at the gym, or clients who knew her to hear our conversation, so I lowered my voice as well. "Not at all. Like I said, it just took me by complete surprise. I never in a million years expected anything like that to happen." Kristen smiled. "I didn't think I'd actually go through with it. I knew I wanted to kiss you, but I needed the right moment. I'm glad it worked." "So, when can I see you again?" I asked eagerly. We decided on the next night, Friday, so we didn't have to worry about getting up for work the next morning. It was going to seem like an eternity until then. My lunch break was up, and Kristen had another client coming in shortly so we reluctantly said goodbye. Both of us knew that any kind of affection would be inappropriate, so we had to settle for a quick brush on the arm. I went back to work, let Amber in on the latest plans, and went to my office to *try* to get the rest of my work done. That evening, I had a ton of tension to release. Of course my first instinct was to jump in bed and violate myself for hours, but I decided to save it for the following evening. Instead, I changed into my workout clothes and went on a jog, replaying the events of the last 24 hours over and over. By the time I got home I knew I had to try to concentrate on something else. I showered, made a light dinner, then poured a glass of wine and grabbed one of my favorite books. One glass of wine turned into two, then three. I was finally sleepy enough, and my mind calm enough to go to sleep. Rain Check Parker saw him walk into the hardware store again and work his way around the outer aisle. Parker was helping a customer pick out paint and wondered if the good-looking man would work his way over to Parker's station, being attracted to Parker, or if this was the hardware store he had always come to and Parker just hadn't noticed him before his visit the other day. Parker regretted that the stimulating exchange had gone south the last time Gabe had been in the store. Gabe. That's right, Parker thought. The man had told him his name was Gabriel, but that he preferred being called Gabe. He was all the things that Parker found arousingly attractive in a man, and a couple of things Parker found scarily attractive too. He was older. Parker was twenty-five, but he'd always gone with an older man. He liked to be daddied. The man wasn't exactly old, though. Maybe in his thirties. And he was good looking and built strong. He'd shown Parker a nice, easy smile when they'd talked before and the man had had an easy way of moving in to show interest in Parker—if, indeed, that was what he'd done. Under the circumstances Parker was a bit confused and more than a bit afraid. The scary attractions were that Gabriel—if that's what his name really was—was black and he had a colored right sleeve tattoo that peeked out below the sleeve line of the polo shirt he had been wearing. A black sex partner and one with extensive tattooing were both worlds beyond anywhere Parker had ever gone. There weren't that many black people who came to this small beach town—and practically none of them lived in this area—and tattoos. The combination spelled danger and taboo in Parker's mind. He kept more to a group of friends who enjoyed girlie talk and more talk than action, although all had experienced sex with men—or claimed they had. His experience and the experiences his friends talked about were usually with middle-aged businessmen coming into Gaucho on the sly for just a bit of sucking or, at the most, a quick fuck in the backseats of their cars in the dimly lit parking area. Something vanilla that Parker and his friends would feed on for weeks as they sat at a table together at Gaucho and shared coquettish stares with men bellied up to the bar. The most flamboyant Parker got was that he occasionally had a "gone wild" Saturday night and danced on one of the poles at Gaucho for free drinks. He had a nice body, he knew, a dancer's body, and a face that was more pretty than handsome, And he was a favorite dancer for the Saturday night crowd at Gaucho. He usually had to be pretty pissed to dance the pole, though, as he wasn't the exhibitionist that some of his friends were. Truth be told, however, he was more in demand than any of his friends were. Despite his shyness toward any man sniffing around him with any sense of danger or roughness to him, Parker had flirted with Gabe when he'd come into the store three days previously. Like today, Gabe had moved around the store, ostensibly looking at a variety of goods, but every time Parker thought to look in his direction, the black man would be looking at him—and smiling. And Parker was smiling back. He couldn't help himself. The man just looked too attractive and arousing. When Gabe finally came up to him that first time, it was to use a variation on a line that so many men on the make with Parker in the store used. But when Gabe said it, all sorts of bells and whistles of interest went off in Parker's mind. And not only in his mind; his body was telling him he was interested in this man too. Parker had opened. "Can I help you? Were you interested in paint?" Parker worked mainly in the paint department and that's where he was standing at this moment. "I already have an eight-inch screw driver, so I guess it's paint I'm looking for today, at least at the moment." "Well, screw drivers are interesting, but what I can help you with is paint," Parker had answered. He'd added a little smile to convey that he understood the code Gabe was using and wasn't turning away from it. "I really do need paint," Gabe had said. "I've just bought a small vacation house here at the beach and it's sadly in need of a coat or two of paint. So maybe you can help me with that for starters. My name's Gabe—short for Gabriel, by the way." "For starters?" Parker asked. "And, umm, my name is Parker." He lifted his thumb to draw attention to the store name badge he was wearing. The guy had already made a point of looking at his name, so there was nothing untoward in giving it to him. "Yes. Me being new here in the area maybe you could help with where the best place to go for this or that is. You look like you might know. But, the paint. I'm not sure what colors I need—what would fit in with the beach community here? Do you guys ever leave the store to help a customer choose something like the right paint? I think I need someone in the know here to actually look at the house." "Yeah, we make house calls . . . sometimes," Parker said, thinking that the guy moved kind of fast, if he wasn't misinterpreting the conversation. It was obvious by the way the guy had been eyeballing him that he was interested. But, although Parker had almost involuntarily responded because the man was such a hunk, he was black and he had those tattoos. This wasn't Parker's style at all. And maybe moving fast was a cocky black thing that was something beyond the pace he could keep up with. Parker didn't want to be send any false signals here that got him in too deep. "But obviously not today—not now," he answered. "It's raining like there's no tomorrow out there now." "I see," Gabe said, turning and looking out of the plate glass windows at the front of the store as if he just now was noticing the rain outside. "So, maybe a rain check on that." "Yeah, that would be wise," Parker answered. "I was going to ask where there was a good place to pick up a beer in this town too. Rainy days are good for supporting the local taverns." "We have all kinds of beer joints and bars here," Parker said. "It sort of depends on the kind of place you'd be comfortable in." "I've heard of a place called Gaucho. That sounds like a comfortable place. I'm looking for a guys' place." Parker snapped his eyes around to look into Gabe's face. And he saw that Gabe was looking pointedly at him. More signaling, and pretty clear signaling, Parker thought. Gaucho was a gay bar—the one where he sometimes danced the pole on Saturday nights. He looked Gabe over again, still finding him attractive and arousing, even though he knew he shouldn't. He was still trying to formulate what to say next, knowing he should send out the signal that he went with a different crowd. But he couldn't say he wasn't interested and be telling the truth. Gabe saved him the decision of what to say. "I've already been in there—at Gaucho—on Saturday night. Liked what I saw. Wondered if that's the only bar of that kind around." So, he knew. He knew before he even walked up to Parker. Parker had danced the pole at Gaucho on Saturday night. And the place had been packed and filled with cigarette smoke. This Gabe could have been in there while Parker was dancing the pole, and Parker could have missed seeing him while Gabe could hardly have missed seeing Parker dancing the pole. "What time do you get off work?" Gabe asked. "You could take a look at my house and I could stand you a beer at Gaucho for your trouble." But before Parker could answer—before he decided what he wanted to answer and reconciled that with what he knew he should answer—two things happened. First a woman drifted in who wanted a can of paint mixed to the color of her choice and was a bit pushy about being served right away, and, second, the family arrived. As Parker turned to the paint-seeking woman to tell her he'd be with her in a moment, out of the corner of his eye he caught Gabe turn and step back as a young black woman and two of what obviously were her—and Gabe's, as well—young kids showed up. The woman was closing an umbrella and the boy and girl were brushing rainwater off the slickers they were wearing. All three of them were gushing at Gabe about what they'd found in the variety store next door. When Gabe had a moment to turn back to Parker to get an answer on when the work day was over for him—and evidently then to move into reiterating the offer of a drink at Gaucho—Parker had let the circumstance make the decision for him and had moved off with the woman customer toward the paint-mixing machine. And here it was, three days later, and the man was moving around the store, ever closer to him, waiting for Parker to be finished mixing paint for another man. This time there was no evidence of Gabe's family. When Gabe got to him, he politely stood to the side, paint cards in his hand, while Parker finished up with an older man who was looking askance at the hulking black Gabe with something of a mix of slight fear and disapproval in his face. This was an affluent beach town in the American south, where blacks had been confined to the service industries for generations and lived and shopped elsewhere. It only was in recent years that there were blacks affluent enough to be building summer homes here as well—and needing hardware stores such as this. And admittedly, with his overpowering musculature and that tattoo design peeking out below the right sleeve of Gabe's polo shirt and also up on his neck on that side, Gabe could be seen to be somewhat intimidating. "Yes, sir, may I help you?" Parker said as he finished with the older man and turned to Gabe. "So, we're going to start from the beginning again?" Gabe asked, an easy smile on his face and amusement in his voice. "If so, I'll note that I already have an eight-inch—" "Do you want those colors mixed up? Interior or exterior?" Parker broke in, nodding his head toward the older man who was shuffling off toward the cash registers none to swiftly. When he was gone, Gabe said, "Sorry. I don't really know if these are the colors I want. Something for the outside walls and something for the shutters and trim—something that the community here will not criticize a black man for when painting his house. I thought you had agreed to come look at the house when it wasn't raining and advise me. It hasn't rained for two days. I gave you my phone number. I thought we were going to arrange for you to look at the house." It was Parker's turn to say he was sorry. "What is it? I thought we were doing well. The way you looked at me, I thought I had a chance. I know you dance at Gaucho, and I thought that meant you were gay. Not so?" "Yes, I'm gay," Parker said. "And again, the way you looked at me, I thought you were interested. Is it because I'm black?" That was part of it, and because he was built football-player big and because of that tattooing. Just a whole different world. But Parker couldn't say that, because all of that was just as much why he'd given Gabe the interested looks he had—and why his body had reacted—and still was reacting—to the man as it was. But there had been a more immediate reason. "I don't mess with married men—especially ones with young children. Sorry, that's just it." "I'm not married. I don't have . . . oh, you saw Raisa and her kids the other day. Raisa's my sister. The kids couldn't wait to see the beach house I'd bought until after I'd gotten it all fixed up. They were just down for the day. They live up in Charleston. I'm not married. I'm not attached. I top men. And I fancy you. You dance a pole in the most sexy way, so I thought . . . hell, if you let men fuck you, I'd like to be one of those men. Is that clear enough for you?" "Yes," Parker said, casting his eyes down, automatically taking a subservient position to Gabe's dominance. And trembling in the bowing to the dominance. "I'm sorry. Am I scaring you?" "Yes, a little." "But it excites you a little too, doesn't it?" "Yes." "Well, I don't want to leave the wrong impression. I don't bite. I won't hurt you. I don't fuck rough—unless it's something you want." As if to prove this point, Gabe took a step back. Parker looked up into his face. "If you'll give me your address, we can arrange a time for me to come by and advise you on colors." "And perhaps you'll come inside?" "Perhaps." "I checked with the manager on when this shift is over. I can wait the twenty minutes and we could go over together. I could drive you back to your car after we're done." "Doesn't look like that will work today," Parker said, looking beyond Gabe toward the plate glass windows at the front of the store. "Looks like the rain has swept in again and is settling in for a while. I'll want to look at the house in the sunshine. And, well, I already have plans for after work today. Sorry." "So, is this another no? I can live with that if so. Just tell me." "No, it's not a no. It has to be another rain check, I guess. Give me your address. I'm off tomorrow. I can be there at 1:00 p.m. Sorry, I'm a late sleeper." Gabe came in close then and put a hand on Parker's arm. It was the right hand and the movement caused his shirt sleeve to ride up higher, showing more of the swirling tattoo there in vibrant colors. Parker shuddered. "If you let me, I can be very good to you," Gabe whispered. "I'll give it to you any way you like." Parker shuddered again, his mind aswirl with the blackness of the man, his musky, heady scent when up close, the intriguing and primeval feeling that tattoo of his gave Parker, the easy way in which he talked about fucking a man, about fucking Parker—and, not least, that reference to an eight-inch screw driver. Parker had a feeling that wasn't an exaggeration. * * * * It was only 12:30, but Parker had found the beach house faster than he thought, and he didn't think Gabe would be upset if he arrived early. The house was in a more upscale section of the seaside than he thought it would be and was right on the ocean. Very expensive real estate. It wasn't a large cottage, but it was in a nice setting and looked like it had been kept up well. The siding was faded-white wooden shingles, and, to Parker's color sense, he thought a colonial blue paint with reddish-purple trim would fit into the neighborhood perfectly. He was to regret that he'd arrived early, though, because when he got to within sight of the cottage, a young man was emerging from the doorway. He was pulling his T-shirt on and his long, black hair had obviously just come from the shower. Gabe stood inside the doorway, just in low-slung shorts—showing magnificent musculature and a tattoo in a riot of color covering his right shoulder and pec—and a coffee cup in his hand. Parker didn't like the idea of being just part of a revolving stream of young men in Gabe's bed, so he turned around and walked back to the main road and to his Subaru Baja and drove off. That evening, at Gaucho, Parker's gaggle of friends gave him a rough time about what he almost had done. "That black hulk?" Jeremy asked. "How could you even think of going with him, honey? Why he would have reamed you a new one. He plays for a much more dangerous team than you do. How big did you say he was again?" "He alluded to eight inches," Parker said, staring down into his beer glass. Everyone at the table was skimpily dressed. At least he had an excuse. He was going on the pole in a few minutes. One of the guys moaned theatrically and fanned his heavily made-up face with a napkin. Jeremy grimaced and shuddered. But it too was theatrically done, and one of the other friends of Parker, the redhead, Sean, picked up on that immediately. "You just wish for an eight incher, sweetheart," he barked at Jeremy. The bark was concluded with a cougher's hack. "I know who you mean," their Hispanic friend, Ramon, spoke up. "I think he's the guy who runs a salvage yard over in Johnsonville. Names Hal something. Smith, I think. And the guy with the long black hair you saw might be Gwen—in her man phase. I hear that salvage yard black man put Gwen in the hospital he was so big cocked and rough." "Gabe. He said his name was Gabe," Parker said. "Man ain't gonna give you his real name if he's gonna split you and put you in the hospital, is he now?" Ramon retorted with a snort. "Of course you'd probably be grinning on the gurney when they rolled you into the ER." "You people aren't helping," Parker said in an exasperated voice. "We're helping in keeping your insides from being all cut up, sugar," Sean said. "I think you can thank that guy with the long black hair from you goin' into that cottage and to your funeral. And you can thank us for bringing you back to your right mind." "Still, handsome you say, and muscular and black and with an eight incher," Jeremy said dreamily. "And a tattoo covering his bulging tit? Oh my, oh my." "It's time for me to go on. Thanks for your usual nothing," Parker said, as he rose from the table and moved toward the stage where there were two poles and a DJ's booth. "Don't mention it. Glad to help, sweetie," Ramon called after him. Half way through his set, Parker saw Gabe—half sitting and half perched on a stool at the bar. He was wearing tight jeans, and the way he was sitting projected the bulge out at his crotch. Parker gave a shudder—but one with curiosity and arousal mixed in with the fear—at seeing the bulge. He could well understand the eight-inch claim. It didn't just bulge. There was something snaking far down the man's left pant leg. He was wearing a button-down shirt that wasn't buttoned more than two places up, and his perfectly sculpted muscular torso was visible. The tattoo on the right shoulder extending out to cover his bulging right pectoral was on full display. All during Parker's dance set, he fought with himself. He'd go straight to Gabe after getting off the pole. He take Gabe into one of the back rooms and let the black hunk do whatever he wanted with him. No he wouldn't. He'd heed his friends' advice. His zany friends. When had they ever given him good advice before? Even the suggestion of eight inches scared him. But it thrilled him too. And if they were thick inches. Ow, ow, ow. But Oolala, too. If he just didn't look like he would give it so rough. The size of him and that tattoo. What kind of man gets a tattoo like that? What else could he be advertising but that he would give it rough? A man in control, that's who. A man who knows what he wants and takes it. The set came to an end, and Parker had made his decision. But now when he looked up, Gabe wasn't alone. There was a blond preppy college type guy talking to Gabe, their faces very close together. As Parker climbed down from the stage, still able to move naturally in more than one direction—back to the table of his friends or toward the bar where Gabe was perched—he saw Gabe rise off his stool and follow the preppy blond out of the entrance to Gaucho. Pretending that the decision he'd made had been a different one, Parker turned toward the table of his friends, where he sat and started tuning into the conversation as he walked, pissed off that the topic really hadn't changed. "Well, all the black men who've done me had at least eight inches. And they were rough." "Honey, the last black man who did you probably was just homeless with a year's accumulation of soot and he was using a garden hose on you." When Parker left the bar, sure enough, it was raining again. Lately he'd felt like it was continually raining on his life. He wondered where he could get a rain check just for getting the loving he was aching for. Loving without all the ache that went with it. * * * * Parker decided that he needed to be professional about the color advice for Gabe's beach house. And he had found some colors to suggest. The man was a customer of the hardware store and had asked for help. The beach out by Gabe's place also looked inviting and he was off this Sunday. So, he decided to knock off two opportunities with one ride up to Gabe's upscale neighborhood. He wrote a note to go with the colonial blue and purplish-red color cards he'd pulled, put them in an envelope with Gabe's name on it, pulled on a Speedo and a T-shirt, grabbed a towel and his car keys, and headed up the coastal road. He'd just slip the envelope in Gabe's mail slot. The man probably wouldn't even be home. Rain Check The next day I did my best to push thoughts of tonight to the back of my mind. I submerged myself into my work, despite Amber trying to get me to gossip about my plans for the night. This was the only way I could keep myself from being fixated on the clock. Finally, it was time to go. I ran home and quickly showered. I was reminded of just the other day when I was at home showering before going out for drinks with Kristen. I couldn't believe how much had changed since then. I drove to the hotel we agreed to meet at. We had agreed that I was going to get there first because she had a late client and needed to shower and change. I checked in, gave the front desk Kristen's name for when she arrived, and went to our room. I was pleasantly surprised by the room. Even though this was a nicer hotel, I think I had been expecting more of a stereotypical seedy place for one night stands. I set my overnight bag down, kicked my shoes off, and climbed on the queen sized bed. It was plush, soft, and perfect. I shut my eyes, resisting the urge to slide my hand in my jeans. What seemed like just a few minutes later, I heard the door open. I jumped off the bed to greet Kristen. She looked incredible. Her red hair was pulled back into a short ponytail, and her leather coat was tied together at her waist. I could see a black dress underneath. Her lips were pulled together in a smirk. "You're oogling me again." she teased, as she set an overnight bag down next to mine. I laughed. "It seems to me that you made sure I would." I said as I walked toward her. I played with the belt on her coat, undoing the loose knot. I slid the coat off of her and set it aside over a chair. I felt a little overwhelmed with how magnificent she looked. I realized I was a bit underdressed in my jeans and sweater. She must've known what I was thinking. "You look great. I just went for something that would be easy to take off." she said with a wink. "A wise decision." I replied. We stood in silence for a few seconds. "Are you nervous, Annie?" she asked as she put her hands on my waist and pulled me close to her. I looked up into her dark twinkling eyes, and saw nothing but safety and passion. "I was, but not anymore." I replied as I reached up and moved her head toward mine. I felt her smiling as I kissed her. I turned her around and laid her on the bed. We helped each other undress as we kissed. within seconds we had each other completely naked. I pulled back a little bit so I could fully look at the amazing body I had admired for months. Kristen's skin glowed in the soft lamp light, creating shadows along her firm muscles. This time I was well aware that I was oogling, so I bent back down to kiss and lick at her neck. She sighed and wrapped her arms around me. I traced a line with my tongue down her neck and onto her chest. I nibbled at the tight flesh above her breasts. I stopped to look into her eyes for permission to keep going. She smiled down at me and ran a reassuring hand through my hair. I gave her a quick wink before I circled her nipple with my tongue, and then gave it a light flick. Her pelvis thrust into me as I began gently sucking on her nipple. I took her other breast in my hand and gently caressed it. Her breathing became heavier, and she was still gyrating against me. I knew what she wanted. I slowly moved down her body, and my tongue continued its trek down her torso, tracing the lines of her firm tummy. I briefly had the thought that I would kill for her body, but then I realized that her body was mine for the night. Kristen flattened herself out and straightened her legs to grant me access to go lower. When I reached her mound, I smiled at the sight of a thin strip of fiery red hair. "So she is a true redhead." I thought. I positioned myself between her perfectly sculpted legs, putting one over each of my shoulders. I gazed at her lovely pussy for just a couple seconds before giving it a long but gentle lick. Kristen cooed, and I looked up to see her face. Her head was tilted back and her lips were slightly parted. she had her arms stretched above her, but under the pillow she was resting her head on. At this moment I couldn't imagine anyone more beautiful than my Kristen. I slid my hands underneath her firm ass and started fluttering my tongue around her opening. Her hips raised to meet my tongue. I flirted with the idea to make her beg for it a little bit, but I'm too nice. I darted my tongue in and out of her pussy, and Kristen gave a low moan, put a hand to the back of my head, and gently eased my head to exactly where she wanted me to lick. I was happy to oblige. I kneaded her ass with the palms of my hands as I continued stroking her pussy with my tongue. Kristen's moans and sighs intensified, which let me know she liked what I was doing. "Are you ready to cum, baby?" I asked gently. "Yes!" Kristen breathed heavily. I gave her ass a squeeze as I moved my right hand to her pussy, and slid two, then three fingers in. She moaned hard and began bucking her hips in time with my thrusts. My lips found her clit and enclosed it while I fluttered my tongue around the little button. Her moans turned into whimpers, and I curled my tongue around her clit and fucked her with everything I had left. After just a few seconds I felt her pussy tighten around my fingers and a flood of warmth signaled her orgasm. She continued to gently buck against my hand, so I remained inside of her, lightly pushing until she stopped. I pulled my fingers out and put them to my lips. I climbed back up Kristen's body, giving her little kisses along the way. I wrapped my arms around her and laid her head on my chest. She looked like she was in a daze, and I knew she was still enjoying her orgasm. I laid there silently and held her. "Annie." She whispered after a couple of minutes. I chuckled. "Well, there you are. I was wondering if I would ever see you again." Kristen slid her arms around me and held me tight. I kissed her forehead. "You need to teach me your tricks, girl." She said as she grinned and buried her face in my neck. I laughed. "I'm sure you have a few tricks of your own, babe." She gave an odd snicker, and looked up at me. A flush spread through her cheeks. I gave her an inquisitive look. "Actually...I do." She broke our embrace and scooted up to look me in the eye. "There's...something I like to do that I get a lot of pleasure in...but it's turned some women off completely. I hope you'll keep an open mind." She brought her lips to mine for a deep and sensuous kiss. My mind was spinning with the possibilities of what she wanted to do to me. She moved her mouth to my ear. "Have you ever ridden a strap-on, Annie?" She asked as she sucked on my earlobe. I stiffened slightly at the suggestion. In the past I've never been willing to do this with my partners. I thought it was too much like fucking a man. I've always considered lips, tongues, and fingers to be the only "tools" a woman needed to satisfy her partner. But, for the first time ever, I was considering this possibility, probably because I was alreay immensely turned on. "No, I haven't." I replied at last. "Please say you'd be open to it." Kristen said quickly. "I understand the hesitation, I really do, but believe me it's a lot more intimate than you might think. I'll be as gentle...or as rough..." She added with a wicked grin. "As you need me to be." I studied the longing in her eyes. I trusted her, and it had been so long since I had broken out of my comfort zone in bed. I realized not only was I simply consenting to this, I was looking forward to it. I brought my lips back to hers for another kiss. "Fuck me." I whispered. Kristen smiled and kissed me hard. "You won't regret this, I promise. Just lay back for a sec. And close your eyes." She said as she broke away from me to lean over the bed. I did as she told, and leaned back resting my head on the pillow. I shut my eyes. I could hear her getting situated. It was crazy that I was about to let her do this. Soon, I felt her straddle my legs. "OK, open your eyes." I didn't really know what to make of the sight in front of me. From the waist up, she was angelic. Soft skin, firm muscles, small but perky breasts glowing in the soft light. Then there was the strap-on. I had never seen one before, but the black and purple contraption that was glistening with lube looked hilarious on Kristen. I couldn't help but giggle. Kristen bit her lip and smiled, herself. "Sexy, isn't it? No, I know it looks ridiculous. But trust me, soon you'll forget how it looks, and you'll just be focusing on how bitchin' it feels." She said as she leaned in for another kiss. I draped my arms around her shoulders as her tongue sought out mine. She put one hand beside me, steadying herself, and the other hand wandered along my body. She rubbed the back of my neck, my shoulder, my breast, my stomach, my pussy. She ran a finger along my slit and I breathed in sharply. "You're already soaked, babe. That will help." She said as she nibbled along my jaw. I felt Kristen place the tip of the dong against my pussy, and ease it in. Between the lube and my own wetness, the dong slid in effortlessly, and she began gently thrusting. She was right about the intimacy. It was nice having her nibble my neck and caress my breast as she thrusted. This sent multiple sensations shooting throughout my body and sent shivers up my spine. I wrapped my legs around her waist, letting her know that I was enjoying it. Kristen looked down at me and grinned. "I knew you'd like it. I have another trick, if you're up for it." I looked up at her, and she had the most deliciously evil look in her eyes. I couldn't imagine what she had in store for me, but I wanted it. Bad. "I'm yours." I breathed. "Hold onto me, tightly." Kristen instructed. I wrapped my arms around her neck and held tight. "Perfect. Now, trust me and keep your grip." Kristen held me tight around my waist with one arm, and in an act of sheer strength, she stood me up, walked a few steps to the nearest wall, and wedged me against it, still keeping the dong inside of me. Because of our height difference and her strength, she was able to keep me elevated off of the floor. She thrusted against me, sending the dong deep inside. My eyes rolled back in my head and I let out a loud moan. Kristen smirked. "You approve then?" She asked seductively. I could only nod as I refastened my grip around her neck and dug my nails into her back. She continued thrusting, shoving me hard into the wall. I knew I was going to have all kinds of bruises in the morning, but I didn't care. She was doing amazing things inside of me. I've never been much of a screamer, but I was faintly aware that all kinds of noises were escaping me as she fucked me harder and harder. It became difficult to keep my grip on her, and I realized that both of us were getting very sweaty. I dug into her back even more, and bit at her shoulder. She began to rub my clit with one hand and before long I felt a little ball of pleasure form deep within me and get bigger and bigger until it burst. I shot back against the wall as her thrusting slowed. I closed my eyes as I rode out what was probably the best orgasm of my life. Kristen moved me back to the bed and laid me down. She removed the strap-on and set it aside. She slid her arms around me and held me close, stroking my back as my heart and breathing slowly came back to normal. Kristen looked down at me and kissed my nose. "I have something else for you." She said, smiling. She leaned over to her bag again, and dug around for a few seconds. When she sat back up, she presented a bottle of champagne and two champagne flutes. I smiled. "The perfect ending." Kristen popped the cork and poured us each a glass. She handed me a glass, and raised hers in a toast. "To..." She thought for a minute, and smiled. "To rain checks!" I laughed and clinked her glass. Then we snuggled in close as we sipped our wine.