Adam lived in a respectable suburban avenue, quiet but for the kids playing football in the street. His mum was downstairs, banging away in the kitchen and his dad was talking football outside with the neighbor. He peered out as they both gesticulated about the last game, Mr. Mitchell from two doors down.
After his taxi experience, and to be honest a few more trips, he now looked at men in a whole new way. Mr. Mitchell was married with two kids and lived three houses down. More importantly, he was hot, in his forties but still in really good shape. Adam was practically drooling, he stopped staring when they both waved at him. If they only knew Mr. Mitchell had made him hard.
Adam lay back on his bed, softly playing with his cock. Fantasising over what Mr. Mitchell looked like naked, only to be interrupted by a text from Kev.
He had told Carly and Kev that he was now sure he was gay, and annoyingly, neither was greatly surprised. Carly told him she always thought he was because no boy should look cuter than her. Kev wondered if he'd ever thought of him that way, but Adam explained that he was much more into the sexy older masculine man.
Kev responded, "Cheeky twat".
Kev had texted him to see if he wanted to join him in the pub later that night to watch the football game. 'Yes, nothing better to do,' he replied.
After his tea, he showered and changed, trying his best straight-lad look. Trackies and a hoodie, not bad, but the long blonde hair and his fairly feminine features slightly gave him away.
When he entered the pub, the noise hit him. It was ram packed, standing room only. Liverpool was playing and that always meant a full house. Kev was squeezed in against the bar, waving Adam's drink to get his attention
Adam squeezed his slim body through the throng of old fellas and scally boys, getting a few glances for his slightly effeminate looks. Kev grinned at him. "You'll be popular in here, hun." Making Adam blush as he shushed him.
As the game started, the pub erupted into songs. Adam was swayed into the middle of the bar-room, with no choice but to stand and watch the game. Trying to lift his drink to his mouth was a chore, as the crowd knocked him at every chance. The person directly behind pressed tight up against him. He could feel their chest brushing against his head.
As a roar went up for a goal, a large hand stroked his arse which made him jump. He considered that it must be accidental but the hand didn't move away. Instead, it started to grope his round bubble butt roughly and he could feel a hard bulge pressing into his back.
With his long blonde hair, he thought, 'Maybe from behind he thinks I'm a girl.' Although, most girls he knew would have belted a fella for this and he was letting it happen. Judging by how hard he was getting, he had to admit to enjoying it too. When he tried to turn his head to see his abuser, the hand slipped between his legs, rubbing his crack through his jeans, almost lifting him to his tiptoes.
Whoever this man was, he was controlling him in a packed room of straight men. His heart thumped through his chest and his breathing was down to a pant.
"Meet me outside," the gruff voice whispered, leaving the odor of alcohol and hot breath on his ear. Adam turned just in time to see a large man leaving the pub.
