Bourbon Street located at 4612 Park Blvd. is a place that I have been to a few times since coming of age. The bar on University Heights neighborhood opens at 4 pm and remains open until 2 in the morning. Pool table, strippers, patio and videos provide entertainment.
On a cool Wednesday evening just before 8 I walked inside. There was a fairly large crowd of twenty somethings and thirty somethings. Whistling could be heard. I knew what induced them.
Opposite the bar is the small stage roped off from the seats around it. I found a seat down front. My attention was instantly fixed to the stage.
The stripper held the horny crowd's attention. The gorgeous, muscular ash blonde had just walked like a model up the runway to the stage clad in speedo and muscle shirt. The crowd wanted to see erotica.
"Take it off!"
A loud cheer was heard as he strutted around the stage sliding his hand down into the red speedo.
"Hey baby take it all off! show us some ass!"
" Show us that big hardon!"
Slowly he pulled the T shirt up to his chest. He seemed to tease the crowd with a brief flash of nipple. Then several seconds later the shirt came over head and off. He fingered his nipples inducing more shouts and whistles.
Seconds later he began to pull the briefs slowly down to the obvious delight of the crowd.
"Let's see your big cock!"
The young man continued his dance completely naked. He moved a hand onto his buttocks gently caressing them. His other hand went to his penis. Fully erect it had to be nine inches long.
"Nothing like being well endowed," I thought.
I got a beer from the cute waiter that came to my table and began to drink it slowly. My attention was still riveted to the stage.
Having at that moment no one special in my life I began to fantasize just a little. A night with a big dick inside me would be perfect.
As I left the club I began to consider venues. I remembered hearing something about gay sports leagues.
During my high school days I had been an athlete, baseball being my sport. My position was center field I enjoyed playing but at the same time I never really made any close friends on the team. Knowing since puberty that I was born gay had something to do with that.
I was actually a pretty good athlete. On a team that batted a composite .285 I was hitting .317. I had been a singles hitter but with an occasional, albeit rare, home run.
San Diego, I was to learn, had a 34 team gay softball league. Most of the teams were all male. This would be a good way to combine my love of sports with my strong desire to find a boyfriend.
Confident, I found a team sponsored by Pecs called Renegades and registered. Unlike high school days a few years earlier I felt very comfortable with that squad.
The first of 12 regular season games would be played on a Wednesday in early March.
San Diego's finest outdoor facility at Poway Sports Plex provides 3 fields with 300 foot fences.
It was a chilly night when I came onto the field and met my team mates for the first time. Somewhat shy of strangers I mingled with the ones who approached me.
He introduced himself as James. Standing about 5 foot 11 he seemed just the right weight for his height. Blond hair came just over his ears. A small stud ring adorned his ear. A semi full lip and pretty blue eyes made his face.
"Welcome to the team. I hope you have a good season," he said shaking my hand with a firm grip,
"Thank you. I think I will."
"Have you played sports at all?"
"I played High school baseball but I graduated eight years ago."
"We're about the same age. I've been out eight years also."
The conversation was cut short by the start of the game. As the other team was batting first I trotted to my place in center field. The coach waved me toward right center for their first batter.
James and I found a chance to continue our little pre game chat.
"That was one hell of a catch their right fielder made."
"It sure was," I replied.
"I feel like I was robbed of a home run."
I nodded.
The game had gone into the fifth inning. No one was keeping track of hits and runs. I just knew that our team was ahead. James stepped up to the plate. With two runners aboard I rooted for him to get a hit. The deep fly ball landed between center and left. Both runners charged across the plate. Jimmy stood at second base.
It was getting dark and quite chilly by now. The lights came on.
An hour later our team trotted off the field singly or in couples. I knew that some of the guys on the team were dating each other. James caught up with me half way to my car.
"You played a great game," he said.
