This story is short, because it was a real event that happened 30 years ago in the space of about 30 minutes.
I was 21, shy, naive and more than a bit curious about life and sex. I was also getting absolutely no interest from the ladies. So I thought in the words of Lou Reed, "Why not take a walk on the wild side?" There was a bar close to my college that had a seedier reputation than it deserved because it was THE gay bar in the area and anybody who was gay, bi or curious went there. It was New Year's Eve and I headed downtown. I was not so naive as to realize that my twinkish charm would appeal to some of the gay men in the area. I put on what I thought was appropriate attire for a gay nightclub; a shiny magenta shirt with wide collar that might have been found at a thrift store in their 1970's collection, a pair of dark slacks whose texture matched the shirt and a pair of dress shoes that I thought would make me look good on the dance floor.
I need not have worried about the dance floor. The club was jammed full of gay men on the prowl, so many that every square inch was jammed full. The place had the stench of cologne, alcohol, and smoke. Those were the days when you could still smoke in a bar, but how anybody got a lit cigarette in their mouth was beyond me. You could only slip past the door and work yourself past horny men three inches at a time. The dark nightclub was operating at a deafening roar. People laughed and talked at full volume to be heard over all the other noise. Disco music poured out of the loudspeakers like watches over a Dali painting. As fast as one person would shout in my ear, "How are you doing?", they would be pushed away by the jostling drunken crowd. It was a long rail-type bar and various booths across from it, but almost nobody was sitting at the tables. Some of the young men seemed exciting and handsome, but bars were not my scene and I did not know how to start a conversation with a stranger in a room where you could hardly talk. I just shuffled past the men until I reached the far end. I was not even certain if there was staff besides the bartender, so I made it all the way to the back without a beer in my hand.
When I reached the opposite end close to an unused pool table, a middle-aged man placed his hand on my groin and said in my ear, "I have not seen you here before." He was twice my age, but good looking with sparse brown hair and a short well-trimmed beard showing the slightest bit of grey. His body was solid, well-defined with a big burly chest probably hairy under the shiny button-down shirt. He had the look of a man who worked out with thick solid biceps that intimidated a skinny college kid like me. I would not want to pick a fight with him, but neither one of us were there to fight. I think he may have had blue eyes, but you could not really tell in the nearly unlit room.
I shouted back over the hubbub and music, "First time here."
He smiled knowingly of experience as he unabashedly stroked my cock through my slacks. I probably was not the first virgin that he had welcomed to the club, but he was my first daddy-bear type. "Well, welcome! I hope you are going to become a regular." He did not stop his unapologetic harassment of my sex. I could not have physically pushed him away either. Not only was he bigger and stronger than me, but all around us were other partiers trapping us in a square foot of space for two people. Just as well that I was willing, even eager, to let him seduce me if that was where he was going.
