QColumn: A Gay In The Life: As Luck Would Have It

In the conclusion of this two-parter, Steve Prince finds out if his Luck has run out or if his Luck is just really, really drunk. Read part one here.
As Luck Would Have It
By Steve Prince
“My name is Luck.” He said in a graveled whisper.
Luck? What kind of name was Luck? He danced up against me and pressed his hard cock against my leg. I’m not gonna lie–I wanted it.
As he pulled me toward him I was able to view Luck clearly for the first time through the haze of the bar. Luck wasn’t handsome and he wasn’t cute. Luck was pretty. His light blond eyebrows hooded sparkling emerald eyes. When he talked, I watched his full lips open slightly, which were complimented by his high sharp cheekbones. His breath smelled like peppermint.
“I’ve been watching you dance for a while,” he said smiling. Ok, normally I should have taken this as a creepy comment, but let me remind you of the beverages I had consumed. It also helped that he was a good dancer. His body was tall and lanky; he didn’t look like a dancer, yet that boy was grinding up on me like a hard up nun on a crucifix.
“I’m glad I was entertaining”, I said. Luck did not hear a word of this because the bar was too loud. The music had moved onto Madonna hence squealing from queens ricocheted off the walls like gunfire in a steel barrack. Since he didn’t hear me, Luck just looked at me with his pretty eyes, smiled, looked at my lips and nodded. It was then that I got it. This boy does not want a date. He does not want pleasant conversation. He wants to make out and I’m good with that.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alex and Troy. I really have the most obvious friends ever. They both are staring at us, all the while whispering. They look like Haley Mills, and well, Haley Mills from The Parent Trap, plotting away to get their parents back together. (P.S. I love that movie). Alex and Troy see me look their way and they both wave, then they point at Luck, and then they give me the “YEAH” head nod. You know that nod, like “Yeah, you did it. Hit it now you stud.” Real subtle fellas.
Behind them I see Omar pinned up against a wall like a poster. I think his pants might be unbuttoned. In between making out he looks over at me and gives me the thumbs up. Then he shoves his tongue back into the mouth of a stranger. On the dance platform, Cody looks at me with a sexy pout, grabs his mega-cock in his thong, and then smiles. That’s his way of voicing his approval. It was odd. My friends very rarely agree on the same restaurant for us to go to, let alone what man I should make out with at a bar. I was taken aback and I was beginning to over think things–which is what I normally do about everything. With the swiftness of a horse galloping across the plains, anxiety swirled in my stomach and climbed its way up to my throat. If all my friends agreed on this Luck guy, then he must be really hot.
Suddenly I felt like I was out of my league.
“I gotta pee.” I told Luck and I walked back to the bathroom.
“Okay, I’ll get you a drink.” He said with a smirk and he slapped my ass as I walked away.
Like hummingbirds to a feeder, Troy and Alex flew to me and hovered around me.
“He’s so hot!” Alex said with his huge grin. “You know he’s the hottest guy in this bar, right? Seriously, he’s gorgeous!”
“He really is,” added Troy very matter of fact. “And you know me, I don’t think anyone is hot enough for my friends. But he is by far the hottest guy here.”
“I know”, I replied with a giggle to try and hide my nervousness. My worst fears were confirmed. I now knew I was out of my league. I’m not the kind of girl that gets the hot guy. Don’t get me wrong I’m no Ugly Betty, but I am not even close to what would be considered “gay” pretty–especially West Hollywood pretty. I have a cute face, but I’m not buff and I’d much rather jack off than go to the gym. Thankfully I have good friends who know when I’m being neurotic and feeding them a complete line of bullshit.

“Okay, NO!” Alex interjected like a shot of Valium. “You listen, Steve Prince, do not do this to yourself. There is reason that guy is looking at you!”
Troy jumped on the bandwagon. “Uh, yeah! You’re totally hot dude. Deal with it.”
Alex put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around. “Now”, he began with a finality that meant there would be no arguments, “get back over there and get slutty.” With a shove, I stumbled into a shirtless man who gave me a dirty look and I hurriedly moved toward Luck, who was standing in the middle of the dance floor holding two beers.
“Here ya go”, Luck said as he handed me a drink.
“Thanks”, I said and took a swig. For a bit we danced and drank, chit chatting here and there. Honestly I don’t even remember what he said. Two thoughts were racing in my head: 1. He’s so hot, he’s so hot, he’s so hhhhaawwwttt and 2. Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up, Don’t. Fuck. This. Up. With one last swig, I finished my beer and Luck did the same. We handed our empty bottles to the shot boy passing by, who patted my ass again.
I was looking around a bit nervously and then Luck did something so completely hot that my jitters vanished. As I was looking away, he took my chin in his hand and turned my face toward his. Through our fuzzy drunken gaze we both looked at one another, and I noticed again how clear green his eyes were. He smiled. He inched towards my face and pressed his lips against mine, while pressing his rock hard cock into my own. Ah, gay romance! Right there, in front of God, Buddha, and everyone we made out like mother fuckin’ porn stars. There’s one thing a guy can do and I’m his–and that’s kissing me like he means it. Luck knew what he was doing. We kissed and kissed for what seemed like forever. Then he extended his long arms behind me and pressed my ass into his pelvis. His dick was so hard that I bit his lip in surprise and clenched the back of his hair, which spurred us on more. He pulled back and began kissing on my right ear, biting and sucking. Then he looked at me again, while holding me close.
“You’re so beautiful”, he said with a smile. “I can’t believe I’m making out with the most gorgeous man in this place.”
I wish that I could say that I just tossed off this comment like it was nothing, and to Luck it might have seemed that way. Inwardly, I was stunned. In fact, I could feel myself wanting to tear up a bit. I know I was a drunk and so was he, but I have never had a man tell me I’m beautiful in my whole life. Normally, I would wonder if he really even meant it or if he was just trying to get into my pants–but I didn’t this time. I simply took in the moment. I just couldn’t believe he said it. And even though, Luck was a stranger, and I didn’t want to date him, and I knew nothing more would come from our encounter except for maybe sex, in that instant I did feel beautiful. My spirits were lifted. My soul felt empowered. And I was so intensely turned on that my man-pussy was wet like a double-stuffed Oreo that has been dunked in a glass of milk.
We didn’t talk the rest of the night. A little tongue, then a little lip, next a little nibbling on an ear with some sucking on the neck. We continued our public dance of PDA until the bar turned on the lights at 1:45am and began ushering people onto Santa Monica Boulevard. As Luck led me outside, I could see that the Sidewalk Sale was in full swing. Desperate, horny men made a last ditch effort to bag some hot bedfellow. HA HA boys! I already got the hottest guy in the bar and he thinks I’m beautiful, no matter what you say, words can’t bring me down. Now who’s the pretty one suck-ass bitches?!! YEAH THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT! ME! I actually was hearing Christina in my head cheering me on. I was at the part where Christina sings, “E-YEAH-A-UH-YEAH-A-UH-YEAH-E-YUH-YEAH!” when Luck brought me to.
“So”, Luck said shuffling his feet, “You going home?”
Did I mention that I wanted is hard cock. My new found confidence intact I decided to just go for it.
“Well,” I said trying to look not too desperate, “hopefully not alone.”
Luck let go of my hand to drew a cigarette from his pocket. “I wish I could, but I have to get up really early for work tomorrow. Here’s my number.”
I was a bit disappointed, but I thought it was a higher power telling me not to get too slutty tonight. Besides I was beautiful, no matter what they say–DAMMIT, now it’s in my head again. We exchanged numbers and then Luck went to go find a light. As soon as he left someone tapped me on the shoulder.
I turned around. A shorter boy with dark brown hair was smiling at me. He was cute but I had not even noticed him all night so I wondered what was going on.
“Having fun”, he said with a smirk. His tone indicated that he knew something that I didn’t.
“Excuse me?” I asked. It was hard to stand. I was real drunk.
“Luck is my best friend”, he said with a smile.
“Oh!” I exclaimed catching on. “Yeah, he’s totally hot.”
There was a pause. Then he broke it.
“You don’t remember me do you?” he asked.
Shit the bed. If you’ve been reading my column by now you know that I have a horrific memory. Usually I’m good with faces but I didn’t recognize this guy for shit.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t”. I’m not very good at sugarcoating things when I’m drunk.
“We went out once”, he replied. Apparently, this was supposed to trip my memory.
“Oh”, I said deflated. “We slept together didn’t we? I’m sorry but I don’t remember a thing–”
“No”, he said, a bit annoyed. “It’s me, Grant.”
Then it clicked. Grant and I went on one date about six months prior. I met him for lunch at Joan’s on Third. We had a good time except he did start to talk about an ex, which is always concerning. He is twenty-five and was turned on by the fact that I was older. I know that because he said those exact words to me. It wasn’t a great date, but it was good enough for a second date, at least I thought it was. I called him but he never returned my call. It hurt my ego for a day, but I got over it. Besides, I’m beautiful, so fuck you Grant.
“Oohhhh!” I yelled trying to recover. “How are you?”
“Apparently not as good as you”, he said glancing over to Luck. “You look good by the way.”
Damn gay I look good. I’m beautiful bitch! Also, the last time Grant saw me I was 25 pounds heavier. I smiled but in my head rang a cry of victory. Ah ha you fucker! Thanks for not calling me back. Now I’m skinnier AND I’m gonna fuck your best friend, and then he’s going to tell you about what a good lay I am and you’re gonna feel like an ass. Suck it butt pirate! I am beautiful, not matter what you say–DAMMIT!
“Oh thanks,” I replied sweetly. “You too!” Ah, southern passive aggressiveness.
Thankfully Luck came over to save me. The three of us talked for about thirty seconds and then I just grabbed Luck and made-the-fuck-out with him because a. I wanted to and b. I wanted Grant to see what he was missing. I don’t know why I cared. It’s not like I cared for Grant. I truthfully forgot that he didn’t call me back until I just saw him now. Yet some part of me was vindictive. I’m normally not like that and I didn’t like it, but I couldn’t control myself.
The night ended as it began–uneventful. Grant drove Luck home and Troy took me home. I vaguely remember collapsing on my bed exhausted but wanting to relieve the intense blue balls I was feeling from grinding with Luck. Sleep prevailed and I passed out into a dreamless slumber.
“You were so dirty last night,” Alex said, concluding his story of last night’s events with Luck. I could hear that he was grinning over the phone, “I loved it, and I’m glad you are finally getting your confidence up.”
Several hours later as I was getting things done around the house and Alex’s words kept playing in my mind. I was getting more confident with guys and I was proud for me. As extroverted as I can be, I can be very shy when it comes to guys. This resolve carried on through the weekend. So much so, that by Sunday night I settled on my bed to give Luck a call feeling pretty sure I was going to get a positive result. Besides, I was beautiful, fuckers!
“Hey Steve,” he answered before I even said who I was. This is a good sign right?
“Hey”, I responded. “How are ya?”
“Good,” he replied. This is where Luck boringly began talking about work and being busy at work…blah blah blah…snoozefest. I really just wanted him to sit on my face. After wading through much chitchat, I got to the point.
“So, I’d love to hang out soon”, I said confidently.
“Yeah, me too”, he replied. “Although, I should tell you that I have a boyfriend. He has been out of town for a month and just got back into town. But when he’s away I would love to play if you want to give me call.”
What? I was on standby, like someone at an airport? This ladies and ladies is the definition of a cock-tease. I mean the biggest type of cock tease. Luck might as well have rubbed his pre-cumming dick all up in my face and then like the Roadrunner, dropped an anvil on my erect penis as I fall to the ground like Wile E. Coyote.
Cock-teasers are the worst.
“Oh,” I replied. “Well that’s cool.” I wanted to get off the phone. “Well, you have my number. All right. Bye.”
This is my question. If you fuck around while your boyfriend is gone, then why didn’t you just go home with me that night and not tell me you had a boyfriend? Because now–I’m not going to be with him. I have no problem with open relationships, but I that’s not what Luck wanted. He wanted me to be the other woman and I’m not down with that. But if he had never said anything I would have never known. But no, he had to open his big freakin’ beautiful mouth, that would look gorgeous wrapped around my dick. Sigh. I thought I was beautiful. Didn’t Luck ravish me attention and give me every signal that he wanted to be with me. Is beauty just to be discarded so frivolously?
Annoyed I slammed my phone down by my bedside, knocking over a picture that feel to the rug. I leaned over and picked up it turning it around. It was a picture of me and my nephews. Correction-it was a picture of FAT ME and my nephews. The me that was nice. The me that wanted people to see me for who I truly am. The me that wasn’t acting like a fucking, prissy bitch.
They say you get back what you put out, and I realized I got what I deserved.. I think the Universe was giving me some of the arrogant attitude I gave out at FUBAR. I let being “beautiful” go to my head. For that one night I felt like the beautiful belle of the ball, yet in that instant I became a mean girl towards Grant and to all the other boys at the Sidewalk Sale–a sale that I have myself shopped at frequently. Let’s be honest, I’ve even been there for buy one get one free.
So now what, am I beautiful? I’m not fishing for compliments and I’m not saying I’m the elephant man. I do think I’m cute, but I do believe there is a reason I’m not drop dead Ashton Kutcher beautiful–I think I would be a different person. I probably would have been arrogant, slutty, and who knows if I even would still be alive. It was nice to hear Luck say it, but as cheesy as it sounds I can only feel what I believe myself. In our looks obsessed gay culture, I have had to show my beauty in other ways. Through my activism, my humor, and my wanting to connect with other people in an authentic manner. And to me, that does makes me beautiful.
P.S. If Christina Aguilera’s BEAUTIFUL is not in your head by now–you’re not gay.
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Years after moving from Oklahoma, Steve Prince is still acclimating to the gay scene in Los Angeles-he’s a slow learner. By trial and error and a lot of sex, his mission is to make the uncomfortable, comfortable. Also it should be known that he is gayer than butt sex.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears— Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma