There is an old saying, this ain't the middle of nowhere but you can see it from here. If it applies to any place it applies to this town. But a job is a job so I moved here. It's not really a small town, there are over 50,000 people, but it has the feel of a small conservative town. The principal at my new school starts every faculty meeting with a prayer, the Bill of Rights be damned. People are also kind of nosey (they would say open and friendly). It seems like everyone here gets married right out of high school so there are not a lot of singles my age. Who knew twenty five was over the hill? The only other single person on staff at my school is Frank.
Frank is about two years older than me and works in the counseling office. We hit it off right away. He invited me to go out a couple of weeks ago but I was too broke to do anything. Now that my first paycheck has been cashed I can afford a beer or two. Frank picks me up at my place and we head out for a tour of the three bars in town where I'm not likely to be stabbed. We have a few beers, play pool, and shoot darts. As Frank predicted there are about ten guys for every single female in the bars. After a couple of hours we head back to my place.
I invite Frank in and we have another beer and talk for a while. Frank gets up and goes to the bathroom and when he comes back I notice that he sits a little closer to me on the couch. Interesting. I get up and change the music and when I sit down I move a little closer to him. We are still about two feet apart. We are each turned toward each other so we can talk. I put my arm on the back of the couch. A minute later Frank does the same and our arms lying right next to each other. A subtle shifting of my weight and our arms are touching and Frank doesn't move his away. We continue to talk like nothing is going on and then I feel Frank's fingers lightly touching my upper arm, moving in small circles. His touch raises goose bumps on my arm. I move my hand and begin to lightly massage his upper arm. We are both getting caught up in the touching and the conversation peters out. We are looking into each other's eyes and touching each other's arms with more pressure.
I slide all the way over until our legs are touching and I lean in slowly toward him and, as our lips meet, I close my eyes. Frank's fill lips are soft and when they part his tongue finds mine. He tastes like beer. What starts out as a gentle kiss quickly becomes more passionate. I don't know about him but I have had no sex in several months and I have a lot of pent up lust. And boy can he kiss. I place a hand on the back of his head and pull his mouth more firmly against mine. He has one arm still on the back of the couch and the other is on my thigh. When he start moving that hand I get an instant hardon.
When we break for a breath Frank says, "God, I was hoping you were gay. I just wasn't sure. Gaydar doesn't work on you."
