This is a flight of fancy about giving my man card away forever. Myself, in real life, I loved that I was seduced by my loving wife and a man friend. I was allowed to drop the facade of manhood I had erected and be who I truly am. Many of my stories deal with a guy like me being seduced to the other side. This is yet another.
I didn't know this man. Whoever he was and whatever he wanted; I had no idea. His rude manner was enough to almost make tinkle myself.
He wore a salacious look on his face as he approached me at the bar one happy hour. I was among co-workers, both male and female having a celebratory cocktail after successfully completing a long project.
You might say I was a geek or nerdy type. I stood no more than 5'6" tall. My defining physical attribute was my bottom. Having spent my entire young and now fully adult life seated at some desk, it's no wonder that my fanny became kind of enlarged.
Throughout my teen years, the girls always said I was cute. The boys had different words for me. To them, I was either a fag or a sissy, depending on who was calling me names.
Those names I later figured out were mostly brought on by my unconventional attire and attitude. Being small in stature, I would strut like a bantam rooster. I was putting on a front but could never ever be that aggressive. And, it did nothing to quell the name calling. The same boys that called me gay and sissy said I walked like a runway model instead of a tough guy. The girls all agreed that I was strutting my stuff.
Ever since I was a wee lad, I hated haircuts. When I was of age, I refused to have it clipped. Worn in a ponytail, my hair grew down my back nearly to my waist. But, given my size, that really wasn't all that long.
In college, the kids were more progressive, more polite, and some, way too handsy. Some of the athletes would play grab ass when I passed by. While feeling their big hands on my round buttocks made them feel like big men on campus, I would always react the same. I would gasp, then blush and giggle as I sped away. It was my self-defense mechanism.
On of my classmates told me that it was because of what I was wearing and how long my hair was that made those guys cop a feel. "johnnie, baby doll, you mustn't wear those bicycle shorts around those big guys. Your ass jiggles like it's made of Jello. That and you're so cute, they think you're one of us."
"Us?" I questioned.
"Us, like one of us girls, silly."
And there it was. Men found me attractive. Not all men of course but enough to make me feel weird at times and sexy when I drank.
And I was drinking when that large man forced a room key to a nearby hotel in my hand and whispered, "I hope to see you there in 20 minutes."
I stared in befuddled amazement as he walked off.
"Who was that?" Someone asked me.
"I have no idea."
"Are you going to meet him?"
Some said I would be foolish. Others told me it would be an adventure. "Look, johnnie, we all saw him. He knows we know what he looks like and you have his room key so you can find out his name and text it to us so he won't do anything to hurt you."
They made sense. I sat holding that plastic room keycard and wondered. I mean he was a nice-looking guy. Well dressed and his cologne smelled expensive.
"I don't know if I should go up there," I told my group of co-workers.
"Don't be a chicken," some guy grinned and made clucking sounds while flapping his folded arms.
"So childish," I thought.
I tossed back the remainder of my first martini and ordered another. I glanced at my watch; 5 minutes had passed since he rudely invited me to his room.
"At least see what he wants, johnnie. Maybe you have a rich relative you never knew who passed away and left you tons of money."
"Yeah, that's not gonna happen," I told them. "Still though, I do wonder what he wants."
I heard someone else calling me chicken. "What's the worst that could happen, johnnie?"
"Well, for starters, I could end up in various dumpsters in plastic bags."
I ordered my third martini and drank it quickly. My curiosity was up as alcohol fueled my bravery. "Fuck it. I'm going over there to see what he wants." Besides those I worked with, outside of work I was pretty lonely. "I could use a friend," I decided.
I walked out to my co-workers cheering me on with, "Go get him, johnnie," and "If you're not at work Monday, we'll send the cops to the hotel."
I settled into an Uber for the short ride. Entering the lobby, although I 'd never been in that hotel before, I saw right off that it was a very nice place. Expensive. I saw the lobby lounge and piano bar and had an idea. Going to the front desk, I asked them to ring up the room matching the keycard and tell whoever answered to meet me in the lobby bar.
"Mr. Wallace will be right down, sir," the clerk smiled.
I sat at a table close to the lobby, ordered just a glass of water and waited.
Maybe 5 minutes went by before that man showed. He looked over at the bar and held up two fingers without breaking stride. Sitting down across from me, he introduced himself. "My name is George Wallace. My friends call me G. W.. You may call me Mr. Wallace."
Sliding the keycard to him, I began. "I'm johnnie. My friends call me johnnie. You may call me Mr. johnnie."
He had a look of surprise as though no one speaks to him like I just did. Then he laughed. "For now, it's Mr. johnnie. I hope that changes as we get to know each other."
"So why the invite, Mr. Wallace?"
"I wanted to meet you. I've seen you before you know. Well, no, you wouldn't know."
Intrigued, I asked where he had seen me.
"The Gym on 4th Avenue where you work out."
"You must have me confused with someone else, Mr. Wallace. I don't work out there."
"Sorry. Of course not working out. I've seen you there in your tight yoga pants and mid-drift T-shirt doing your Jazzercize dancing, seen you practicing yoga, and I've seen you do Aerobic exercises as well."
