1 comments/ 28333 views/ 2 favorites A Change of Perspective By: Dom_man76 I have never written a story from a female perspective, so this is new for me! I hope that you enjoy it... * This had been a really rough week at work, and by Friday night, I was ready to burn off some of the aggression that had built up over the week. After graduating with a Bachelor's degree in marketing in the spring, I had a fairly painful job search which finally landed me an entry-level position at a Fortune 500 company, but the unfortunate part of the job was that I was an assistant to a ruthless bastard of a boss! With only four weeks into the job, the daily stress was getting to me already, and I was thinking hard about jumping back into the job market. As I said, it was Friday night, and I needed to get my mind off of the horrible week. I used my 45 minute commute to call up a few of my girlfriends, and by the time I got home, I had three of my girlfriends lined up to go out clubbing with me. We all had just graduated and were still in college the mindset that the weekends were solely reserved for going out and getting fucked up. With the week that I just got through, I was ready to drink myself into oblivion! Walking in the door to my apartment, I knew that I had most of a bottle of wine in the fridge, so I poured a healthy glass for myself to keep me occupied as I got ready for the evening. This night would require an extra special outfit which (hopefully!) would score me attention of some hot guys and possibly some free drinks! Digging through my closet, I found an outfit that fit the occasion. I had bought the skirt on a whim but had never gotten up the courage to wear it. The skirt's design was the current style at the clubs with a low rise and an extremely high hemline, and they were meant to show off your goodies more than to hide anything. Rather than the skin-tight mini-skirts of ages ago, it was loose around my thighs which would definitely make dancing easier, but after I tried it on, I realized that I would need a cute pair of panties to go under it. It was cut so high and was so loose that anything underneath was sure to be seen! I opened my top dresser draw and found an electric orange thong that would be the perfect teaser for any of the guys that wanted to catch a glimpse of the goods under my skirt. The halter top that I picked out was a good match for the skirt, too. The top stopped a few inches above my navel, and the skirt stopped a few inches below it. The combination showed off my midriff that I worked on daily to keep flat and near-perfect. After I dressed, I stopped back by the kitchen to refill my glass before heading to the bathroom to work on my hair and make-up for the evening. Before I knew it, my wine glass was empty again, and it was nearly time for Katie to pick me up for the evening. Knowing that she was notoriously late, I emptied the bottle into my glass mere seconds before my doorbell rang, and not wanting to waste perfectly good wine, I drank it down before I answered the door. She and I headed off to pick up the other two girls, Sarah and Ashley, before we went to our first stop. We must have all been thinking along the same lines because all four of us were dressed to kill, and it was obvious that tonight was going to be a wild night! Our first stop was a local bar, and we could feel the patrons' eyes scan us as we walked in. Finding some seats up by the bar, we all ordered drinks, and no sooner had we gotten them, four shots were lined up on the bar in front of us. The bartender nodded toward a table full of middle aged men across the bar from us, and even though we had no intentions of socializing with the men, we raised our shots and downed them. Before we left the bar, that process repeated two more times, and we were well on our way to becoming completely trashed. Much to the dismay of our fan club, we decided to leave the bar and head out to a dance club at about 10pm. The alcohol had really snuck up on me because the walk from my barstool to the car seemed a lot more difficult on the way out than it had been on the way in. We got to the club around 10:30, and there were 25 to 30 people waiting in line to get into the club. Rather than waiting with the others, Sarah started walking toward the bouncer at the front of the line, and we knew exactly what she was doing. We followed closely, and as soon as we got to the front, the bouncer noticed us and immediately let us in. Despite being an "old woman" and no longer in college, we obviously still had it! We walked into the club, and my senses were immediately overloaded with the same sensations that I had experienced over hundreds of visits to similar clubs. Music was thumping out a baseline rhythm that seemed to drive the mass of bodies on the dance floor, and the mingling smells of perfume, artificial fog, and sweat permeated throughout the room. As soon as I could "feel" the club, I was immediately excited to get out onto the dance floor. Before finding a spot on the dance floor, we cruised by the bar and ordered drinks, but before we could pay for them, a lone guy at the bar picked up our tab. Again, we didn't have any real interest in him, but why be rude and turn down his gentlemanly gesture? With drinks in hand, we wove through the crowd of dancing bodies and found a small hole on the dance floor. I was about as happy as I could imagine since I was already half drunk, had fresh drink in hand, and was shaking my little ass on the dance floor By this point, I couldn't hardly even remember why I was upset when I came home from work! Considering that we were four attractive women dancing without dates, I wasn't expecting to be dancing alone for long. Sure enough, it took only a few minutes after we started dancing before a young stud made his way up to Sarah and began to work his magic. Rather than being happy for her, I was furious! That bitch had everything (beautiful blonde hair, big tits, and a tight ass), and she was going to take the first man as well! While I was fuming over Sarah's man, I felt somebody directly behind me, and unlike the others dancing close to me, this body was dancing in perfect rhythm to my own. We danced that way for a few seconds before I got a little bolder and backed into him, grinding my ass into his thigh. When the song was over and the DJ transitioned into the next one, I turned to see my dance partner and was pleasantly surprised. I'm fairly tall (5'9" without heels), and he towered over me at 6'3" or greater, and he was stocky without being fat. From the shape of his chest and arms, I could tell that he was either a college athlete or enjoyed working out, and it was obvious that he was fairly agile from the way he moved on the dance floor. We danced through the next song, and seeing my drink nearly empty, he suggested that we find a refill. I wasn't one to reject a drink, so I took the lead and made my way to the closest bar. He asked what I was drinking, and being a perfect gentlemen, he found me a barstool and ordered us drinks. When he returned, we sat and talked for a while, and without asking, he waved the bartender over and ordered a second round of drinks and a round of shots. We threw back the shots and grabbed our fresh drinks before moving back out onto the dance floor. The alcohol had finally really caught me, and I was beyond the blissful drunken state and was in the completely wasted state. I was able to dance with my new-found man, but as the evening wore on, it was pretty obvious that I was relying on him to lead and to keep me from falling. At one point in time, I was grinding my crotch on his muscled thigh and hanging on to his shoulders, and he pulled my shoulders toward him and started to kiss me. With the heavy dancing that we had done on one another, I had been getting horny as hell anyhow, but with the alcohol dulling ability to think clearly, I didn't even hesitate to kiss him back. Before I knew what was happening, we were making out on the dance floor like we had known each other for years! During a transition between songs, I broke my lips away from his long enough to look around me, and I couldn't see any of my girlfriends in the vicinity. For some reason, I had felt a guilty twinge from making out with my man, and I didn't want them to find out. Usually, we always have lived by a "strength in numbers" motto, but I didn't want to give them the impression that I was turning into a complete slut. Once I was satisfied that they were not within eyesight, I turned back toward my man, and we got back into our hot and heavy kissing. Throughout the evening, my dance partner seemed like a perfect gentleman, and at most, I felt his hands on my bare midsection. As we continued to make out on the dance floor, I could feel his hands start to roam around my body, but in my alcohol-induced haze, I didn't even care. His hands felt wonderful as they stroked my back and wandered down my skirt until they found my nearly bare bottom underneath. He gave my ass a playful squeeze and a light smack which spurred me on to kiss him harder, and as I pressed my lips into his, our tongues attacked one another. While we were mid-kiss, I felt him push my hips away from his thigh just slightly, and while his left hand was holding my bottom, I could feel his right hand snaking down the front of my skirt. Even in my inebriated state, a little voice in my head was telling me to push his hand away, but when his fingers grazed over my panties, it felt as though a spark shot through my pussy causing me to grind my pelvis into his hand. I had started to get wet when we began to make out, but the stimulation of his fingers through my panties had me on fire! Undoubtedly, he could feel how wet I was through the material as he rubbed me, and soon, I felt his middle finger pull the front of my thong aside to give him better access. His finger moved down my wet slit until it found its target, and he plunged it into my little pussy. Although completely dulled by the alcohol, I could clearly feel of pain from the abrupt invader, but that was quickly subsided by the pleasure of his manual stimulation. As if they were magical, his fingers were fucking me while at the same time rubbing my clit, and the feeling was indescribable. I hadn't been with a man in six months, and this one seemed to know exactly where and how I wanted to be touched. I was well on my way to a wonderful orgasm when he pulled away, grabbed my hand, and started to pull me off of the dance floor. Inebriated by the alcohol and by my impending orgasm, I followed him in a complete drunken stupor and wasn't exactly sure where we were going. We made our way to the back of the club, and he pulled me into the men's room and into the back stall. At this point, I was mentally and physically incapable of refusing anything that he wanted me to do, and with the hot action that we had on the dance floor, I thought that I was up for just about anything! I couldn't even comprehend the fact that the floor was absolutely filthy when he pushed me to my knees in front of him, but when he pulled out his hard cock, I knew exactly what he wanted. This hadn't been the first cock that I had seen, but as it bobbed in front of my face, it seemed absolutely huge. I opened my mouth to tell him that I didn't think that I was ready for this, but before I could make a sound, he grabbed me by the back of my head and pushed the bulbous head into my mouth. My lips strained to allow the girth of his penis to pass into my mouth, and I started to panic as the head pushed into the back of my throat and started to gag me. I did my best to pull back, but his firm grip on my head insured that I wasn't going anywhere. After a few minutes of abusing my mouth, he pulled me to my feet as if I were a rag doll and bent me over the toilet. I put my hands down on the toilet seat to support myself, and I could feel him clawing at my little thong to pull it out of the way. My brain couldn't process everything that was happening, but when he pushed his huge cock against the opening to my pussy, his intentions were obvious. He thrust forward to gain entry, and a searing pain shot through my pelvis and up my spine. Out of pure instinct, I tried to pull away from him to avoid any more pain, but his thick hands were on my hips and held me back. He worked his cock out and in, and finally, the whole thing had stretched its way into me. Once he finally got into a decent rhythm, I finally started to gain some pleasure out of his assault, but my head was too foggy to know whether I should object or enjoy myself. Sometime after he started to fuck me, I must have blacked out for a period because I regained consciousness and was no longer in the bathroom stall. My head was laying face down on a countertop, and when I picked my head up, I was staring into a mirror and could see my assaulter still behind me and was pounding my little pussy. He had carried my limp body out of the stall and laid me on to of the bathroom counter, so he could continue to fuck me. For a moment, I actually started to regain some mental clarity through the chemical induced fog, and I looked around in the mirror and noticed that there were several other men standing in the background and enjoying the live porno scene. They were drinking their beers and cheering on the guy that was fucking me, and it made me feel like I was the main attraction at a sporting event! When I tried to raise myself up off of the counter, he put his bear paw on my back, pushing me back down. I was pinned between the countertop, his hand on my back, and his cock in my pussy, and there wasn't much that I could do about it. After what seemed to be hours, I heard a loud grunt behind me as the bastard buried his cock and came inside of me. When he was finished, he took a step back as if to take a mental picture of his handiwork, and I was still in shock and couldn't force myself to move a muscle. I felt his cum start to run out of my pussy and down my leg, and I started to cry out of shame for what had happened. As if to add insult, I looked back in the mirror just in time to see my attacker grab onto my little thong, drag it down off of my legs, and place them in my pocket. Without saying a word, he put his cock back into his pants, zipped up his fly, and left. Before I had the chance to get up, I felt several sets of hands grab me and pull me off of the countertop, and my next memory was being back down on the filthy bathroom floor and having another cock shoved in my face. I tried to be obstinate and clamped my mouth shut, but just then, a new cock was behind me and buried itself into my already-sore pussy. This new invader made me cry out in pain, and once my mouth opened, the man in front of me took the opportunity and pushed his cock into my mouth. It was obvious that neither man was particularly concerned about hurting me, and they brutally rammed me at both ends. Initially, each thrust made me scream in pain and in attempts for help, but my screams were stifled by the cock thrusting in and out of my mouth. Again, I was trapped and had no immediate way out. The guy attacking my pussy was exceptionally brutal, but luckily, he was a "minute man" and dumped his load fairly quickly. I was really sore and sensitive by this point, and I could feel every drop of his cum as he shot into me. When he was done, he quickly pulled his cock out of me, much to the relief of my pussy, and I could feel his seed leak out of me and drip out onto the floor. Without any real warning, the man fucking my mouth started to launch huge ropes of cum into my mouth, and I started to choke as I inhaled a small amount of it into my lungs. His cock was more than half-way into my mouth, and there was no option but to swallow as much of his semen as I could, lest I drowned in it. He fed me an enormous load, and even though I did my best to swallow it, I ended up choking uncontrollably. Once he was satisfied that he had finished, he withdrew his cock from my mouth which allowed me to choke and sputter up the cum that I couldn't swallow. While I was busy coughing up the unwanted seed, I felt the next attacker move into position behind me. I quickly psyched myself up to have another cock rape my pussy, but instead of a cock, I felt fingers rub up and down my slit. I was really puzzled by this, but as soon as I looked back to see what he was doing, I felt two fingers plunge into my virgin asshole. Out of pure instinct, my entire body lurched forward to escape the searing pain, but the fingers continued to twist their way into my backside. I was too shocked by the pain to even scream out, but even if I did, I don't think that anyone would have come to my rescue. As quickly as it started, the anal fingering stopped, and the relief was a welcome surprise. I turned my head back to look behind me just in time to see my anal assaulter get shoved aside by an enormous black guy that had just entered the restroom. At first, I thought that he might be a bouncer or just a Good Samaritan that was trying to help me, but my positive hopes quickly dissolved as he unzipped his fly and pull out a huge, black cock. From what I could see, it was easily 7" in its semi-flaccid state, and it was growing in length and girth as he stroked it. When he knelt down behind me, I knew that he had tossed the previous guy out of the way, so he could have his turn. For the first time, I really started to hear the shouts from the others that were standing around, cheering him on, but I was completely fixated with the size of his cock. I had never taken anything that large, and he could do some serious damage to my pussy if he wasn't careful. I turned my head back forward and braced for him to rape my pussy. Once his penis was fully hard, I felt him swab the head of his cock up and down my pussy to wipe up some of the cum that was leaking out of me, and still, I couldn't figure out what was going on. He only did that for just a few moments, and then he stopped. Looking back, I could see that he was positioning the giant head of his cock at the entrance to my ass, and just then, I could feel it start to push at the opening. "Oh God, please don't do that," I pleaded with them in a panicked voice. "I've never done that before, and you'll tear me apart! Please, please, please don't do that!!!" With my pleas, the shouts from the crowd grew even louder, encouraging him to rape my little ass. It was as though he didn't even hear me because he didn't even acknowledge that I had spoken. The head of his cock was finding a lot of resistance at my anal opening, but he was completely focused at gaining entry. With a quick thrust of his hips, the head popped inside of me, and it felt as though my asshole tore in two. I let out a loud scream in pain and tried to crawl forward off of his cock, but one in the crowd came forward and placed his hand on my shoulder to stop my moment. The pain must have been too much for me to bear because I completely blacked out, and when I woke up, I was face down on the filthy restroom floor. As first, I wasn't sure what had awoken me, but then I felt something the size of a fire hydrant in my ass and was quickly reminded of what was happening. Apparently, I collapsed below him, and since he wasn't finished with me, he mounted me on the floor and continued his anal assault. With each stroke, he was trying to fit more and more of his cock inside of me, and each time he tried, it felt like my asshole was ripping more and more. By this time, my drunken euphoria was completely gone, and I felt every excruciatingly painful movement in my ass. I lifted my head up to look back at him, and it looked as though he only had about half of his cock inside of me! There was no way that I could survive the other half, and in a sheer act of desperation, I started to buck my hips and kick my feet to get him to stop. That only seemed to spur him on because he started to piston that black rod into me at a feverish pace. A Change of Perspective August 2009 I get travel-sick on coaches. Which is unfortunate, given how much time I spend being driven around Europe. It's the only aspect of travelling I don't like - I'm fine flying, or on boats, or even in cars - but the endless hours on the team bus are sometimes enough to make me wish I worked in an office. When I first started out I tried every remedy going, which once got me into serious trouble with the team doctor over some blood test results. Since then I've found that the best way to cope is to put my earphones in and try to pretend I'm not there. I'm just about managing it on the flatter roads outside Ljubljana, but our training camp's high up in the mountains. I looked the village up online earlier and I know I've got at least an hour of hairpin bends to live through yet - so I'm not in the best of moods when Gil suddenly drops down into the empty seat beside me. "Si! Stop sulking and talk to me." I turn the volume down but don't open my eyes. "Go away." "Aw, come on... don't be like that." His tone changes. "It's beautiful, you know." "What is?" "Slovenia. You're missing it." "It'll still be there when we get to the hotel." Gil's silent, but I can feel him fidgeting next to me. When it becomes clear he's not about to leave any time soon I open my eyes. "What's up?" "I need you, Si. You're the only man who can help me." He's got his best trust-me-I'm-innocent expression on, the one that says he's plotting something. "Am I?" "Oh Simon..." He bats his eyelashes, presumably intending to be alluring. "You'll always be the only man for me." My stomach turns over, and it's not because of any sudden dips in the road. For as long as I've known him Gil's been interested in my sex-life, particularly in the fact that it's non-existent. But lately the interest has become more focussed, as if he wants to be the one to change that. I know he swings both ways - it's hard not to know - and I love him like a brother, but neither of those facts make me comfortable with the idea. Even the thought of discussing it with him makes me uneasy. I know it's not rational, or healthy, but I don't know how else to behave. His knee nudges mine. "It's nothing bad, I promise. Look, why don't we pretend we've had the argument and you've agreed?" I look at him warily. "And what have I agreed to?" "There's this club in London I want to go to. They don't let straights in." "Well, you'll be fine then." He doesn't answer. "Won't you?" Gil puts his hand on my thigh, but I'm already shaking my head. "I thought maybe we could go together. Please, Si? Be my date?" I knock his hand away. "Don't say that." There's no way I can go to a gay bar. I just... I can't. "Why not? I'm a great date - ask anyone." I know he's only teasing me, but all of a sudden I can't breathe. "I --" It's a hoarse croak, and I have to cough before I can try again. "No." His face falls. "Really? I thought it might be a bit of fun." I shake my head again, the movement making me feel sick. "Well... okay. Never mind." He looks genuinely disappointed and I feel guilty, but not enough to change my mind. I turn the volume back up and close my eyes, and after a moment he leaves me to my thoughts. Some time later the coach pulls into the courtyard of the hotel where we're staying for the next nine days. Everyone lurches to their feet and starts collecting their stuff, while at the front of the coach, our head of ops is trying to tell us something. "Ladies and gentlemen, if I could have your attention please...?" Everyone ignores him. Mike is a really nice guy, but he sometimes seems far too polite to be managing a team of pro-cyclists and their assorted staff. He tries again. "LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!" This time the hubbub dies down. "Thank you. Right. Before anyone gets off this bus, I've got a couple of bits of information for you. First, room numbers. Everyone will be sharing --" A groan goes up behind me. "I bet that means I'm bunking up with Piotr again, and you know he snores like a bastard." "I do not!" Mike ignores the familiar argument. "Don't worry Alec, I've brought enough earplugs for anyone who wants them. Next. The hotel have given us a section of the restaurant to call our own while we're here, so that's where the noticeboard will be. I'll put up the usual schedules, but it's up to you to read them. Anyone who's late for anything - and that includes meals - more than once without a very good reason will be sent home. Do you understand?" There are more protests, but they're only token. In truth no-one wants to jeopardise their place on this camp, or in the Vuelta team. I grab one of the room lists that have been circulating while Mike talks, unsurprised to see my name bracketed with Gil's. "Thirdly. We want to be welcome back here next year, so I will not tolerate any behaviour that might upset the staff or the other guests." There's another shout from the back of the bus. "What about chatting them up? Is that allowed?" Mike sighs exaggeratedly. "Gil, I don't care who you sleep with, as long as you turn up to training on time and I don't get any polite phone calls from the hotel manager telling me that there's a problem. Okay?" "Thanks boss." "You're welcome. But if I could go back to the real reason we're here, there'll be a full team debrief in the restaurant at five, and dinner's at seven. You're free between now and then - off you go." Mike stands aside as there's a rush for the exit. Sometimes I wonder if he was a teacher in a previous life - he seems to have infinite patience for us, even though we usually behave like a group of overgrown school kids. "You okay honey?" Sarah, one of our soigneurs, is standing next to my seat. "You're very pale, even for you." I force a smile. "I'm alright. Those last few corners nearly finished me off, that's all. Give me ten minutes on solid ground and I'll be fine." "Good." She smiles and pats my shoulder affectionately. "See you later." I don't say much to Gil as we settle in to our room. I don't want to seem hostile, but his long-running assumption that I'm gay bothers me more than I like to admit. I don't know how to deal with it. Gil seems as unaffected as ever, and not for the first time I envy him his utter self-assurance. Outside of training, I don't think I've ever seen him mind what anyone thinks about him. I finish unpacking first and sit on my bed, still uncomfortable. After a moment Gil sits down opposite me. "I didn't mean to offend you, earlier." "You didn't. It's just... I'm not like you. I know I shouldn't care what people think of me, but I do." "If you and I went to a gay bar together, the only thing anyone who knows you would think is, 'Poor Simon, what's Gil talked him into this time?' They'd just assume I was a bad influence." "You are a bad influence. I'd end up in the papers. My father would have a fit." He grins. "How do you know your father doesn't ring me up and beg me to get you to lighten up?" He puts on a dodgy accent - I think it's supposed to be Belgian but it morphs into bad Italian gangster. "My boy... he's 26, he's a star, he's good-looking... he never dates, never has sex, never ends up in the papers... it's unnatural. Help him, Gil, I'm begging you." I can't help laughing. "My dad's not Mafia, you fool." "He loves you, Si. He'd want you to be happy." Gil's suddenly serious. "You can't live like this forever." "You don't know anything about how I live." "You daft bugger, I spend more time with you than anyone else does - of course I know how you live. I certainly know enough to be sure that you're not happy. Not really. Are you?" I want to be angry at his presumption, but he's right and we both know it. "No." "So do something about it." He flops back onto his bed. I don't know if he's annoyed with me. I don't know what he wants me to say. I don't know why I'm so scared. The one thing I do know is that right now I'd rather suffer through a thousand more hairpin bends than be having this conversation. We've been silent for so long that Gil's voice makes me jump. "I'll always be there for you, Si. No matter what." He suddenly sits up. "And now on to more important things. Beer?" Like the coward I am, I choose the escape route with relief. "If you're buying, sure." ~ The training passes uneventfully, the way most training does. We spend our days riding hard and our evenings being lectured and quizzed on tactics, race psychology and sports science. It's a tiring schedule, and for the first seven days all anyone wants to do after dinner is go to bed. At breakfast on the eighth day, when most of us are groping blindly for the coffee and trying to make ourselves eat something, Mike makes an announcement. "Ladies and gentlemen, a moment please." A few heads look up incuriously. "I'm pleased to say that we've had a great camp so far. Nearly everyone's stats have improved since last year, and we've been impressed by how hard you've all been working. So well done, and keep up the good work." A murmur of surprise and pleasure rumbles around the table. It's always nice to have the coaches appreciate that we're working hard, especially when a lot of the team will never get the chance to compete for an individual win. Mike continues. "In recognition, we're going to finish up here a day early. Today will be the last training session and we'll skip tonight's class - unless any of you especially want to sit through two hours of social media skills?" He's smiling, knowing that we all think being told how to use Facebook and Twitter is patronising in the extreme. "Does that mean we're going home a day early?" "No, the coach and flights are booked and we'll travel as planned. I want you packed and in the lobby ready to go at 1am Saturday - that's tomorrow night, in case you're confused. But the rest of tomorrow is a whole day off to do with what you like. And that goes for everyone, not just the riders. If you want a massage or your bike needs any work you'll have to do it yourself. Understood?" The pleased noises get louder. Even towards the tail end of the season we don't get much free time, and the unexpected treat is a big bonus. Mike raises his voice. "In the meantime, today is still a normal training day. I want you outside and ready to go in twenty minutes." Unsurprisingly, the conversation turns to how best to use our day off - although most of us quickly conclude that we'll be spending it by the pool, sleeping off a hangover. According to our waitress the local brandy is more than worth the short walk to the nearby pub, and the decision to sample the local nightlife is near unanimous. Gil, as usual, has his own spin on the plan. Later that afternoon I'm on the massage table when he wanders over. "You coming out tonight?" "Of course." Sarah puts some pressure on a knot in my left calf. "Ow, Jesus! If I can still walk, that is." She pats me absentmindedly. "Sweetheart, you are such a wimp. I'll go nicer on you if you invite me along too." Gil sits down on the next table. "You don't have to be nice to him, you're invited anyway. I hear you've got your eye on that blond waiter." Sarah's hands never stop moving, but I hear her sigh. "Oh yes, he's gorgeous." "He is, isn't he? But I think he's gay - come into town with us and find someone else." "Dammit." She taps me again. "Roll over for me, baby." I do as I'm told. "Gil, you think everyone's gay. You're only saying that so you can have a crack at him first." His mouth twitches in amusement. "No straight man should have an arse that gorgeous. Apart from me, obviously." Sarah glances at him. "Oh honey, you're a long way from straight, however many girls you sleep with." Maybe it's Gil having told me earlier in the week to lighten up, but I'm struck by an idea. "Tell you what, why don't you both make a play for him? Find out which he prefers." They both turn to look at me, making me self-conscious. "What? I'm not a complete prude, you know." "That's a great idea. Sarah, you up for a challenge?" She grins, and I begin to feel sorry for the poor boy. "Most definitely. But we need stakes. The winner gets our lovely young waiter, obviously. What does the loser get?" All three of us are silent for a moment until Sarah's thumbs find another knot in my quad, making me swear. "Fuck me!" Gil laughs. "That's it, perfect. The loser gets to take Simon to bed. Si, you're a genius." "No, I didn't me--" I start to sit up, but Sarah pushes me back down. "I'm not finished yet, baby-doll. And if Gil's right and I lose, I'm not going to be finished with you until morning - and you won't have one of these to preserve your modesty." She tweaks the towel lying across my hips and I grab at it. "This is harassment. Don't I get a say?" Gil hops down off his table, still laughing. "You've had your say. You suggested the challenge - and you suggested the consolation prize. Your father would be proud of you." He bends down and before I can react, kisses me on the forehead. "See you at dinner, baby-doll." ~ "So what do you think?" Gil shouts the question at me as he passes me my beer and sits down. The bar's crowded and noisy, thanks to the sudden influx of most of our group. We've been made to feel very welcome, and in return we're doing our best to drink them dry. I think this might be my fifth pint, but I'm beginning to lose track. I lean into Gil, not wanting everyone to hear what we're talking about. "Straight, definitely. He can't keep his eyes off her boobs." We watch Sarah and the waiter for a moment, before Gil sighs. "Damn, you're right. And he had such a pretty arse." He takes a long swallow of his drink, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. "Just as well the runner's up prize is equally cute." I wonder if he can see my blush glowing in the dark. "Gil, don't." A hand grabs my shoulder and I turn round to see Piotr. "I wondered where you'd both got to. A couple of the girls want to meet you, come and join us." Gil grins. "Sounds good. Simon was just telling me how much he'd like to pull some hot chicks, weren't you Si?" I flip him the bird, which only makes him laugh. Piotr either doesn't see or doesn't understand, and we follow him back across the room to where a small group of - admittedly stunning - girls are waiting. Alec is already chatting to them, explaining what cadence means, and they're hanging onto every word he says. At least, they are until one of them notices Gil approaching and nudges her friends. "Mark Gilwood... wow." All four of them gaze adoringly at him. He preens. "Hello ladies, it's a pleasure to meet you." He kisses each girl on the cheek and they visibly swoon at the attention. Alec realises he's been dropped and mutters in my ear. "I give it five minutes before they're knifing each other for the privilege of blowing him in the men's toilets. Bastard." Despite his language, he's grinning. Somehow no-one seems to really mind that the girls flock to Gil before anyone else. Perhaps it's because he attracts so many that there are always enough to go round. Or perhaps it's because he'll always be the first to point out that he's only five foot nine and can't reliably multiply six by seven. Happily unaware of his poor numeracy skills, the girls do indeed fight, albeit discreetly, for the position closest to Gil. When he casually slips an arm around the brunette's waist, the looks from the other three would curdle milk. Hiding a grin, Alec steps into the breach to soothe the ruffled feathers, and he and Piotr are soon well on the way to taking their own companions home for the night. Entertaining as this is to watch, I'm soon bored. The girls are pleasant enough but don't hold my interest, and with the brunette never moving more than six inches away I can't talk to Gil. When I finish my beer I make my excuses and move on. Although I'm friendly with a lot of people I'm not wildly sociable, and I don't much enjoy large crowds like this. I wander through the room aimlessly, not sure what I'm looking for but not finding it. Eventually, fed up, I head for the bar. "What can I get you?" I've been idly watching the pattern some spilled beer is making on the bar-top, oblivious to the fact that I've made it to the front of the queue. When I look up, the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen are looking at me. "Uh..." Shock makes me stupid. I ask for the first thing that comes to mind. "Vodka tonic, please." "Sure." The barman turns away. He's lean under a tight t-shirt and his jeans are snug enough to show off his arse. I can't take my eyes off how the muscles in his back move when he reaches up to the optic and down to the fridge. By the time he's standing back in front of me I'm breathing hard, and I can't stop myself blushing when he makes eye contact. I pay hurriedly and stumble away, downing the vodka in two swallows. My head's spinning and my stomach's churning. When I've been attracted to men in the past I've always been able to rationalise it to myself. It's not that I fancy the ripped gym bunny, I just admire his dedication to working out. The cute lawyer in a suit isn't sexy, he just looks a bit like that actor in that film. Somehow, if I can justify the attraction, I can tell myself I'm not gay - despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. But this time... this time there's no way I can explain away the lust I'm feeling. I want to be naked with this guy so badly that I can't breathe. It's as if the universe has finally had enough of my cowardice and is getting its own back. For a second I'm almost tempted to head back to the safety of the hotel, but then I remember Gil telling me that I can't live like this forever. The vodka makes me brave. Clutching my drunkenness around me like a safety blanket, I turn back to the bar and send up a silent plea. It's answered. "You must be thirsty. Same again?" His eyes are just as beautiful the second time. "Please. And one for you, this time?" The barman smiles. "Thanks. I'll have the same." His accent is either American or Canadian, I can't tell. Whichever it is, it's making me weak at the knees. I hand him a note and he returns a moment later with my drink and some change. My heart stops when his fingers brush against mine. "Here you go - I'll get mine later when it gets a bit quieter. If I can grab ten minutes away from the bar, d'you want to join me?" I nod speechlessly and he smiles again. "Great. I'll come find you when I can." I make my way back to Piotr's group, drinking this vodka more slowly and trying to hide the fact that I'm watching the barman's every move. I'm drunk enough now to slur a little when I speak, but not so drunk that I don't notice Gil glance at me more often than usual. When the girls disappear to powder their noses, he sends Alec and Piotr to get the next round in. As soon as we're alone he smiles at me, and I know I'm blushing again. "What?" "I was just wondering what he's got that I don't." My face gets hotter. "I don't know what you're talking about." He puts his hand on my arm and pivots me gently to face him. "The barman. You've not taken your eyes off him since he asked you what you wanted to drink the first time. I've never seen you look like that at anyone." I stare at him, horrified. "You were watching me?" My mouth goes dry as I wonder who else might have seen. "Okay... you need to sit down. You've gone very pale." He guides me to a spare chair and I collapse into it weakly, feeling sick. A couple of people look over curiously and Gil waves a beer glass at them, telling them that I can't handle my drink. I groan faintly. "Now they really will think I'm a fairy." "Hey, knock it off." He's knelt in front of me, his hands on my shoulders so that I have to look at him. "Firstly, everyone here's far too drunk to have the first clue what's going on, and no-one will remember anything in the morning. Secondly, no-one except me gives a flying fuck about who you may or may not want to spend the night with, and I only care because I'm jealous. And thirdly, it would really make your life a whole lot simpler if you just came out of the fucking closet." A Change of Perspective I don't know what to say. I know he's right, but I'm not ready to discuss it yet. I close my eyes, opening them again hurriedly when the room lurches wildly. Gil's expression is gentler. "Poor baby, you must be going nuts in there." "In where?" It's Piotr, back from the bar. "Hey, are you okay?" Gil stands up. "He's hammered. I think it might be best if I get him outside." Piotr laughs. "Then go now before the girls get back - Alec and I will console them." "Good man." Gil puts an arm around my waist and helps me stand up. "Come on, let's get you some fresh air." We head unsteadily for the door, his mouth close my ear. "You're okay, Si. It's going to be fine." ~ Things are fuzzy for a little while. When they start to make sense again I realise that Gil's handing me a pint glass. "Welcome back." I shake my head and he laughs. "It's water, you numpty. Drink it." I do as I'm told and the world slowly comes back into focus. I'm sat on a bench in the beer garden. Although it's not cold there's a breeze and I'm shivering slightly. "Here." The voice is familiar, but I can't place it until I look up. "Take mine, I'm warm enough." Before I can protest the barman's taking his jacket off and draping it over my shoulders. It's warm and smells of him, and I feel ridiculous that I'm wearing his clothes when I don't even know his name. "Thanks...?" "James." He holds out his hand and I shake it automatically. "It's very nice to meet you, Simon. Your friend here tells me that you're new to all this." I look at Gil, who looks sheepish. "Vodka tonics, I meant. You usually drink beer." I don't say anything for a long moment, long enough that Gil frowns at me and James's smile starts to fade. I take a breath, trying to quell the fear. I can do this. I'm going to do this. "Well... maybe it's finally time I tried something different. What do you think?" The smile's back. "I could help you get used to vodka, if you like... I work in a pub, after all." The very English word sounds strangely attractive in his gentle drawl. "Talking of which, I should really get back inside, but, um..." James suddenly looks nervous. I swallow hard. "But what?" "I've got tomorrow afternoon off. Perhaps you could wander down to give my jacket back, and perhaps we could spend some time together?" I nod, too tongue-tied to talk. Gil stands up. "My work here is done. James, it's been a pleasure. Si'll be here after lunch, even if I have to bring him down myself." He pulls me to my feet. "Come on, let's get you home." We say goodbye and I follow Gil obediently for the mile or so back up the mountain to the hotel. He's unusually quiet and I'm too spaced out to want to talk, so it's not until we're back in our room that either of us says anything. "James seems alright." I'm brushing my teeth and don't answer. "Very friendly. He and I had a nice little chat while you were out of it." That gets my attention fast. I stick my head around the door. "What did you say to him?" It doesn't matter that I know Gil's only looking out for me, I'm still uneasy at the thought. Gil pats the mattress next to him. "Come sit with me and I'll tell you. I'm not shouting it across the room." It's a moment before I'm ready to leave the bathroom. I perch on the bed, not really wanting to have this conversation, but wanting to hear more about James. "So...?" Gil smiles. "He likes you. If you'd not been wasted he'd have been all for jumping your bones tonight, so I told him you're totally inexperienced when it comes to fucking hot barmen you've just met. I explained that you've barely come out to yourself, let alone anyone else. He thought that was kind of cute." I groan, not looking up. "Great, now he thinks I'm some kind of virgin loser who can't hold his drink. I can't go down there tomorrow." "Yes you can. Those were his exact words - 'kinda cute'. Look, Si..." He sighs. "You're going to have to do this sooner or later. You know you're gay, and the longer you bottle it up, the unhappier you'll be. And at this rate when you do finally come out you'll be old and past it, and you still won't get laid. So tomorrow you're going to go down to that bar and spend the afternoon with the hot barman. You don't have to shout it to the rooftops, but you've got to at least stop lying to yourself. Understand?" My head is in my hands. "Since when have you been such an authority?" "Someone wise said something similar to me a couple of years ago. I'm just passing it forward." All I can see in his expression is concern and friendship, and for the first time in my life the thought of someone else knowing that I like men doesn't panic me. "Thanks, Gil. For everything." To my amazement, he blushes. "No problem. Now get some sleep - you've got a date to look good for."