I was desperate and horny, and with my best friend Hunter deciding to take the "straight road," I didn't see much hope of getting laid in the near future. Oh don't get me wrong, I'm not dancing far outside of the closet myself. I haven't gotten around to having one of those wrenching "Hi mom, I'm gay" moments yet, and I'm not sure I will, but I am gay.
Hunter's gay too if he'd just lighten up about it, but he's always been more conservative, with his short dark hair and his fast track career. He wants the wife and children in the suburbs. He wants the middle-class American success, and so he's always had more drive.
That's why he's got a business degree and works at some fucking big conglomerate, while I'm spending my Friday night behind the counter of a video store with a boner in my pants that begs to be touched every time I remember Hunter's lean, naked figure under me, his eyes wide as I penetrate him, and his breath short as he approaches climax just from the feel of my cock slamming his prostate. I miss him.
My hand had actually slipped below the counter and squeezed my cock through my baggy jeans when the "bing-bong" warned me that someone had entered the nearly empty video store. I looked up from the magazine I was pretending to read and saw a head of dark hair over the racks starting at "A" in the new release DVDs. I checked the security monitor on that aisle and sharply drew in my breath.
It wasn't Hunter but he was long and lean, clean shaven and shiny. He might as well have been living three hundred miles away though, because I'd seen this guy in the store before with his all-American girlfriend, perky and energetic.
Blue eyes met mine between shelves, a casual glance that searched for more than movies. It set my heart beating and gave my waning hard-on new life. Did he just check me out? I looked to the security monitor and noticed something strange: he was only pretending to look at the movies; in reality his eyes kept drifting to that brown door at the back of the store, the one with the "ADULTS ONLY" sign above.
I held my breath as he turned at the back of the aisle. Did he have the balls to go where he really wanted to go? I watched in the black and white monitor as he looked left and right, checking to see if any other customers were about, then he ducked through that brown door like a thief on the move.
I just about fell off my stool because I moved so quickly to switch the monitor to the "Perverts Room" camera. There he was, alone and looking at the "Anal" shelf. Well that was a good start, but it could mean that all he wanted to do was to take his all-American girlfriend up the ass, but something in that first moment we had made eye contact told me this wasn't why he was cruising the porn. Sure enough, he moved down to the "Bi" racks. OK, now we're getting somewhere. Just a couple of more steps.
The DVD hit the counter, and I just about jumped out of my pants. A customer who should be out jogging rather than movie watching had come up unawares and dropped a DVD for rental. He had two days growth of beard and smelled of sweat and cigarettes. I ran through his card as fast as I could and escorted the guy to the door. He was my second last customer for the night and it was time to lock up--well, fifteen minutes early, actually, but whose counting.
I hurried through the empty store back to my counter and the security monitor. Yeah! Mr. Long and Lean was in the gay porn section! Better yet, his hand held his crotch, and his tongue licked his lips. Oh man, this guy was so gay! Now the big question: could he admit it? The girlfriend I'd seen him with before was hot--enough to get even me interested, so was he like Hunter, living the straight life and denying the churning in his balls?
The guy looked left and right, making sure no one was in the adult section with him, then he unzipped his jeans and reached in, hauling out a nice slim cock. His fingers made a tight "O" and hauled to the base, giving me a grainy view of a fat head before it disappeared on the up stroke. Six inches at least, maybe seven or eight; who could tell with the tails of his denim shirt obscuring my view on the little black and white TV?
I shuddered as my hand found my own cock. I didn't even remember unzipping I was so mesmerized watching this "straight guy" whacking in front of gay porn. That's when my heart sank. This guy was so in the closet that he wasn't even going to rent a gay movie, he was just going to touch himself in front of the DVD covers! Time to do something about this. I debated being blunt: Hi, can I suck your cock? Or maybe try being coy: hey, can you believe they can bend that way?
I got off the stool and was about to tear my eyes from the TV when he did something unexpected: he grabbed a DVD from the shelf and opened it up. A knife came out of his pocket, and before I knew it he'd cut the security tag off the case. He was going to steal the DVD! Why that in the closet, frighten little fag!
The aisles blurred by as I rushed to the brown door, but I stopped in front and took a few deep breaths so I wouldn't look as flustered as I felt. I pushed open the door to the sound of scurrying feet and shuffling clothes.
He stood in front of the Big Boobs rack, his cheeks flushed and his right hand trembling. I took a few casual steps to bring me beside him, staring at the rack as if I too just wanted to see big tits. I let him feel me close for a moment, feel my eyes checking him out--his slender form, a thin bit of black chest hair showing at his collar. Finally, when he was taunt as a guitar string, I spoke.
"The question tonight, sir," I said, "Is whether I call the cops."
He bolted past me, shoving me into the rack and charging out the brown door. I rushed after him but didn't try to get too close. He had a knife after all and was pretty freaked. Besides, I had the keys for the front door; the lock needed keys on both sides.
He'd stopped with his back to the locked door, his eyes wide like a wild animal that's trapped. That made him dangerous so I approached cautiously.
"Let me out of here!" he shouted, his hand straying to the knife pocket but not reaching in. Good! As freaked out as he was, he wasn't stupid enough to threaten violence.
I knew what he was thinking: caught! Caught being gay! The DVD under his shirt was damning evidence of his true sexuality. The minor theft of a DVD didn't worry him, but his parents and girlfriend finding out what kind of DVD he'd stolen had him desperate.
"No one has to find out about this," I said, my hands palms out to try and calm him. "But you have to cooperate. You've been recorded stealing a DVD. I can erase that once we've sorted this mess out, but you're going to have to pay some kind of fine." I know what I had in mind, and it had nothing to do with money, but I wasn't going to just blackmail him. I wanted him to ask for it.
He reached for his wallet, squeezing it out of his hip pocket. "I'm sorry, dude," he said. "I'm not a thief, really, I just got carried away." He pulled out a few bills. "I'll buy it. double, triple what it costs." I could see him counting the bills and then giving up. Not much cash apparently.
"Sir," I said, using my best store manager's voice. "I'm sure we can work out some alternate form of compensation, but I must search you now to ensure that you have no other store merchandise on your person."
He reached under his shirt and pulled the DVD from his pants. His stomach was so flat that the DVD hadn't even added girth to his waist. His jeans were also flat; fear had melted his hard-on. He held out the incriminating DVD, his eyes carefully avoiding the images of naked guys in sultry poses on the front, and worse, the legs-in-the-air with thrusting buttocks shots on the back.
"Just this," he said as I took the DVD. He spread his arms wide. "Go ahead and search me." His eyes were guiless; he still hadn't figured out that he'd been caught by a fellow traveler.
"Store regulations say that it must be a complete search conducted in private. Please come this way." I held out my hand to indicate that he should walk in front of me. I gave him gentle directions on the way. "Up the stairs, sir. Turn left, sir." He had a firm little butt.
We stopped in the stock room above the porn section, a low ceilinged space where I took my breaks and watched porn on a little TV. It wasn't spacious, but there were no windows, and I liked the ruggedness of the cinder block/breaker panel decoration. The metal shelving and low sprinkler system pipes always gave me bondage ideas too.
"Take off your shirt please, sir."
His eyes found mine for the first time since he'd been caught. They were wide and the lashes were long--truly beautiful. He saw that I wasn't kidding and reached up to that first button, undoing it with a swallow. He handed me the denim shirt and stood awkwardly, as if he didn't know what to do with his hands. I did.