comsmith
12-22-2007, 04:17 AM
What can I say but, I was out of my element, way out of my element when I walked into the Twisted Armadillo Bar not far off Sixth Street. It wasn't the flamboyant atmosphere, nor was it the predominance of guys in muscle shirts that threw me, what really threw me was how quickly I was outed as a "bi-curious" hetero slumming it in the local gay bar.
Once inside, I worked my way around the edge of the crowded dance floor and found myself a spot at the bar, immediately ordering a margarita. Feeling like I could use a half a dozen Tequila solos, I was grateful when the bartender handed me two drinks.
"Happy hour, 'til nine," he said nodding at the clock, which showed it was five 'til nine.
"Okay then, go ahead and bring me another."
"Just under the wire," he said, moving off to prepare two more drinks for me.
Tossing the straw aside, I picked up the drink and brought it to my lips. Tasting the salt on the rim, I quickly took a large gulp, feeling the lime taste and then the sharp Tequila jolt me as the cold liquid went down. With another gulp I had finished my first drink and moved onto the second.
Slipping quickly into my second drink, I continued noticing the odd looks I was getting. They all were pretty much the same, an initial interest, I guess as the regulars spotted a new and, hopefully, somewhat attractive face, but then the look quickly faded to pity, either because of the poor straight guy so obviously out of place, or because of an assumed missed opportunity.
"Here you go," the bartender said, grabbing my hand as I reached for my wallet. "Compliments of the gentleman at the table," he continued, nodding toward a table tucked near a corner.
"Oh, okay, thanks," I said, raising a drink and nodding toward the table. Before the bartender could walk away I quickly asked, "So what do I do now?"
"What would you do in a straight bar? I mean if a woman bought you a drink."
"To be honest that has never happened to me before. And am I that obvious?"
"Flashing neon. Look, the guy over there seems interested, maybe he wants to try and twist the straight line a bit. You should go over and sit down."
Grabbing my two drinks I said, "Thanks," and headed over to the table.
Walking slowly around the edge of the dance floor, I looked at the man sitting at the table. When I had first looked over at his table he had a couple of friends sitting with him, but now I could see he was alone at the table.
Looking closer at him I immediately saw he was not one of the muscle shirt guys, he wore a loose fitting and very flowery shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. His brown hair was cut short and he had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. As I got closer, he stood up and I could see he was not very tall, probably 4 to 6 inches shorter than me, making him about five-seven or so.
Placing the two drinks on the table I reached out and shook his very soft and petite hand saying, "Hi, thanks for the drinks. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Please do," he said, pulling a chair out for me.
Sitting down, I looked down his body as he turned and moved back to his chair. I could see he was rather slender in spite of the shirt and loose fitting pants. He sat down and simply looked up at me, smiling, but saying nothing.
Immediately a bit uncomfortable at his gaze I blurted out, "I'm a bit nervous, I feel..."
He reached up and touched a finger to my lips, silencing me. "Your first time in a gay bar?"
I nodded.
"I could tell."
"That obvious?"
"Shhh, just calm down a bit, you look like you're about to jump out of your skin."
Taking a gulp of my third margarita, I nodded and said, "Well, with a bit of help from Mr. Cuervo here I'm trying to relax a bit."
"Look, most of the people here don't really fit in... I mean they fit in here, but a lot of them don't always fit in out there. Once you get to know the people here, they warm up, they warm up a lot. They were just sizing you up, waiting for you to either run out of here or stay a bit."
"But you..."
"I took a chance, besides I liked your eyes," he replied. "I'm Gene, Gene Terrance."
"I'm Adrian, Adrian Collins," I replied, meeting his gaze and looking closely into his eyes. He had long eyelashes, giving his brown eyes a deep, mysterious air.
I had finished my third margarita by then and started on the fourth. Beginning to feel a bit more comfortable, if not with the surroundings, at least with Gene, I moved my chair closer to him so we could talk a bit more quietly instead of shouting across the table.
"You from around here Gene?" I asked.
"Yeah, pretty much grew up here. What about you?"
"No, I'm traveling on business, I'm from Houston."
"You fly in or drive?"
"I drove this week."
"You come here a lot?"
"Yeah, my company's got a project going here so I come every other week or so. We're constructing a building for the State on the north side."
"How long a project?"
"Maybe a year or so."
"So you'll be coming back a lot," he said hopefully.
"Yeah, through most of the construction. You work around here?"
"Yeah, I work part-time while I'm chasing my masters, at a restaurant not far from here."
"What do you do?"
"I'm their chef," he said, shrugging.
So, you a regular here?"
"Ah, not really, I mean I used to come in a few years ago, but I've changed a lot since then, I don't think anyone would recognize me."
His answer seemed a bit odd, "You lose a lot of weight or something?"
"Or something," he said smiling. "Hey, why don't we go somewhere a bit more quiet."
"You know a place nearby?"
"My apartment if you're game."
Emboldened by the four margaritas I quickly answered him, "Sounds good, want me to just follow you in my car?"
"Can you drive now?"
"Well..."
"Look, I'll drive, once the margaritas wear off I'll drop you back here for your car. I'm not too far away."
"Lead the way," I said, carefully standing up from the table.
I followed him out to his car, a pretty beat up Nissan Sentra and, scrunching down, I was able to climb into the front seat, even managing to close the door. My knees were wedged against the dashboard and I began feel a bit claustrophobic.
"You can move the seat back if you want, the lever is in the front there," he said pointing to the front of the seat.
I reached down, but couldn't reach it the way I was jammed in there. Reaching over to help, he leaned over my lap and grabbed the lever. The seat slid back giving me some leg room and letting me catch my breath.
Gene didn't move as the seat slid back, instead, turning his head to me and kissing me firm on the lips. After a moment of shocked surprised, I warmed to him, opening my lips to the probing of his tongue, responding by entwining my tongue with his. I expected his mustache and beard to be a bit scratchier, but it felt all so soft. In fact, as I moved my hand to his cheek, I was surprised at how soft his skin felt.
"Oh my," he said, sitting back up in the driver's seat, "if we keep this up, I don't think we'll make it back to my apartment."
Feeling my erection pressing against my pants, I was ready to carry through right there, but then realized that even though we were parked near the back of the parking lot, there were bound to be people passing by sooner or later. I leaned my head back against the headrest as he started the car.
We didn't talk much as we drove, and although Gene's hand rested on my thigh, suddenly he seemed to be a bit on edge. He drove cautiously, at a speed slightly below the speed limit, but we finally made it to the apartment complex.
Walking closely behind him, I followed him into his apartment, which looked fairly run down from the outside, but once we looked inside I was amazed. It was immaculate, perfectly clean, with some very interesting artwork on the walls, nicely complimented by the furniture. It looked like an interior decorator had just finished a masterpiece.
"I'll fix us a drink," he said, but I grabbed him and pulled him to me. I began kissing his forehead and down over his eyes while pressing my erection against him. He responded similarly, but I was a bit surprised as he ground onto me. I felt something, but it felt as if he wasn't fully erect. Figuring he may be used to this and it will take a little more than kissing to get him going, I continued.
Once inside, I worked my way around the edge of the crowded dance floor and found myself a spot at the bar, immediately ordering a margarita. Feeling like I could use a half a dozen Tequila solos, I was grateful when the bartender handed me two drinks.
"Happy hour, 'til nine," he said nodding at the clock, which showed it was five 'til nine.
"Okay then, go ahead and bring me another."
"Just under the wire," he said, moving off to prepare two more drinks for me.
Tossing the straw aside, I picked up the drink and brought it to my lips. Tasting the salt on the rim, I quickly took a large gulp, feeling the lime taste and then the sharp Tequila jolt me as the cold liquid went down. With another gulp I had finished my first drink and moved onto the second.
Slipping quickly into my second drink, I continued noticing the odd looks I was getting. They all were pretty much the same, an initial interest, I guess as the regulars spotted a new and, hopefully, somewhat attractive face, but then the look quickly faded to pity, either because of the poor straight guy so obviously out of place, or because of an assumed missed opportunity.
"Here you go," the bartender said, grabbing my hand as I reached for my wallet. "Compliments of the gentleman at the table," he continued, nodding toward a table tucked near a corner.
"Oh, okay, thanks," I said, raising a drink and nodding toward the table. Before the bartender could walk away I quickly asked, "So what do I do now?"
"What would you do in a straight bar? I mean if a woman bought you a drink."
"To be honest that has never happened to me before. And am I that obvious?"
"Flashing neon. Look, the guy over there seems interested, maybe he wants to try and twist the straight line a bit. You should go over and sit down."
Grabbing my two drinks I said, "Thanks," and headed over to the table.
Walking slowly around the edge of the dance floor, I looked at the man sitting at the table. When I had first looked over at his table he had a couple of friends sitting with him, but now I could see he was alone at the table.
Looking closer at him I immediately saw he was not one of the muscle shirt guys, he wore a loose fitting and very flowery shirt with the top three buttons unbuttoned. His brown hair was cut short and he had a neatly trimmed beard and mustache. As I got closer, he stood up and I could see he was not very tall, probably 4 to 6 inches shorter than me, making him about five-seven or so.
Placing the two drinks on the table I reached out and shook his very soft and petite hand saying, "Hi, thanks for the drinks. Do you mind if I sit down?"
"Please do," he said, pulling a chair out for me.
Sitting down, I looked down his body as he turned and moved back to his chair. I could see he was rather slender in spite of the shirt and loose fitting pants. He sat down and simply looked up at me, smiling, but saying nothing.
Immediately a bit uncomfortable at his gaze I blurted out, "I'm a bit nervous, I feel..."
He reached up and touched a finger to my lips, silencing me. "Your first time in a gay bar?"
I nodded.
"I could tell."
"That obvious?"
"Shhh, just calm down a bit, you look like you're about to jump out of your skin."
Taking a gulp of my third margarita, I nodded and said, "Well, with a bit of help from Mr. Cuervo here I'm trying to relax a bit."
"Look, most of the people here don't really fit in... I mean they fit in here, but a lot of them don't always fit in out there. Once you get to know the people here, they warm up, they warm up a lot. They were just sizing you up, waiting for you to either run out of here or stay a bit."
"But you..."
"I took a chance, besides I liked your eyes," he replied. "I'm Gene, Gene Terrance."
"I'm Adrian, Adrian Collins," I replied, meeting his gaze and looking closely into his eyes. He had long eyelashes, giving his brown eyes a deep, mysterious air.
I had finished my third margarita by then and started on the fourth. Beginning to feel a bit more comfortable, if not with the surroundings, at least with Gene, I moved my chair closer to him so we could talk a bit more quietly instead of shouting across the table.
"You from around here Gene?" I asked.
"Yeah, pretty much grew up here. What about you?"
"No, I'm traveling on business, I'm from Houston."
"You fly in or drive?"
"I drove this week."
"You come here a lot?"
"Yeah, my company's got a project going here so I come every other week or so. We're constructing a building for the State on the north side."
"How long a project?"
"Maybe a year or so."
"So you'll be coming back a lot," he said hopefully.
"Yeah, through most of the construction. You work around here?"
"Yeah, I work part-time while I'm chasing my masters, at a restaurant not far from here."
"What do you do?"
"I'm their chef," he said, shrugging.
So, you a regular here?"
"Ah, not really, I mean I used to come in a few years ago, but I've changed a lot since then, I don't think anyone would recognize me."
His answer seemed a bit odd, "You lose a lot of weight or something?"
"Or something," he said smiling. "Hey, why don't we go somewhere a bit more quiet."
"You know a place nearby?"
"My apartment if you're game."
Emboldened by the four margaritas I quickly answered him, "Sounds good, want me to just follow you in my car?"
"Can you drive now?"
"Well..."
"Look, I'll drive, once the margaritas wear off I'll drop you back here for your car. I'm not too far away."
"Lead the way," I said, carefully standing up from the table.
I followed him out to his car, a pretty beat up Nissan Sentra and, scrunching down, I was able to climb into the front seat, even managing to close the door. My knees were wedged against the dashboard and I began feel a bit claustrophobic.
"You can move the seat back if you want, the lever is in the front there," he said pointing to the front of the seat.
I reached down, but couldn't reach it the way I was jammed in there. Reaching over to help, he leaned over my lap and grabbed the lever. The seat slid back giving me some leg room and letting me catch my breath.
Gene didn't move as the seat slid back, instead, turning his head to me and kissing me firm on the lips. After a moment of shocked surprised, I warmed to him, opening my lips to the probing of his tongue, responding by entwining my tongue with his. I expected his mustache and beard to be a bit scratchier, but it felt all so soft. In fact, as I moved my hand to his cheek, I was surprised at how soft his skin felt.
"Oh my," he said, sitting back up in the driver's seat, "if we keep this up, I don't think we'll make it back to my apartment."
Feeling my erection pressing against my pants, I was ready to carry through right there, but then realized that even though we were parked near the back of the parking lot, there were bound to be people passing by sooner or later. I leaned my head back against the headrest as he started the car.
We didn't talk much as we drove, and although Gene's hand rested on my thigh, suddenly he seemed to be a bit on edge. He drove cautiously, at a speed slightly below the speed limit, but we finally made it to the apartment complex.
Walking closely behind him, I followed him into his apartment, which looked fairly run down from the outside, but once we looked inside I was amazed. It was immaculate, perfectly clean, with some very interesting artwork on the walls, nicely complimented by the furniture. It looked like an interior decorator had just finished a masterpiece.
"I'll fix us a drink," he said, but I grabbed him and pulled him to me. I began kissing his forehead and down over his eyes while pressing my erection against him. He responded similarly, but I was a bit surprised as he ground onto me. I felt something, but it felt as if he wasn't fully erect. Figuring he may be used to this and it will take a little more than kissing to get him going, I continued.