QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Gettin’ It Done

If you missed Part One of this column, check it out.
Gettin’ It Done
By Steve Prince
His tongue encircled my own. I could feel the tickle of his whiskers against the top of my upper lip. My own tongue touched the top of his teeth and then I bit down on his top lip. This only spurred him on. I could feel his hands cradling my cheeks as he thrust his tongue deeper into my mouth.
One of his hands left my face but soon found respite in the small of my back. His hand began to slide down the inside of my jeans. I pressed my body into his and could feel him erect.
And then I remembered… we’re in a bar.
Like a Jack-in-the-Box, I popped up for air. I looked him in the eyes and he smiled.
“I never got your name,” he said with a smirk.
“Oh, I’m Steve,” I said shyly. Yes, for some reason I felt shy now. Apparently, when he said his name was Louis and I stuck my tongue down his throat without uttering a word, I was not shy then. But now, I’m shy. I’m an idiot sometimes.
“Nice to meet you,” he said, “or should I say, ‘Nice to make out with you’?”
I was too drunk not to fall for that line—then we made out again. Jeezus.
Soon, Cody came over.
“Hey you two,” he said looking Lewis up and down and then obviously nodding in a seal of approval.
I introduced both boys and then realized that I didn’t feel so great.
“Um, excuse me,” I said. “I’m just gonna pee.”
Cody nodded as Louis said, “Okay” and then he pinched my nipple as I walked away.
Yes, he pinched my nipple. Classy.
As I saw the line to the bathroom, I was grateful for its shortness; I was feeling worse by the second. As I got in line, a cute guy stood in front of me. He had dark, straight black hair and very strong Japanese features—just flat out pretty. He caught me staring, looked at me, and nodded.
“Hey,” he said. “I’m Mark.”
We shook hands. Someone exited the bathroom before I could introduce myself. Apparently Mark didn’t care. He began to walk backwards into the bathroom before I realized he was pulling me with him.

The bathroom wasn’t empty. In fact there were three men at the urinals and one of the two stall doors swinging open with no one inside.
Before I’d even locked the stall door behind me, Mark’s hands went down the front of my pants. I turned around to face him and then he kissed me.
Oh god! My stomach! And he wasn’t that great of a kisser; he kind of gnawed on the bottom of my lip. My head spinning, I soon noticed him unbuttoning my pants. The familiar feeling of wet lips greeted my knob, and, like a good boy, my dick rose to attention. For a boy who wasn’t a good kisser, he was great at giving head. I was really enjoying myself…
And then I leaned over and threw up into the toilet.
I stood up.
And then I leaned over and threw up into the toilet, again.
I stood up again.
And, yep, threw up again.
Apparently, the third time was the charm and I felt better. My pants still down at my ankles, I stood up, steadied myself, and leaned against the stall wall. The room was spinning. That’s when I realized Mark was still sucking my dick. This was so wrong in so many ways.
Gingerly, I put my hands on his head and pushed him back. I pulled up my pants and began to exit the bathroom.
“Can I have your number?” he asked.
I gave him the wrong number. I’M SORRY! What was I supposed to say? I figured that was the least way of hurting his feelings. Don’t judge me… I was drunk!
Thankfully as I left the bathroom, someone entering cock-blocked Mark from following me. I spotted Louis chatting in the corner and made a beeline for him.
“Where’s Cody?” I asked.
Louis pointed upwards.
Well, shit the bed. There was Cody, wearing nothing but his boxer-briefs dancing away. He’d already made twenty bucks.
As if reading my mind, Louis whispered behind my ear, “I’m ready to go. You?”
I nodded. We both walked into the cool night air. I hadn’t realize how much FUBAR felt like a humid oven. Looking at one another, Louis leaned in and kissed me. We made out for a bit, again, in front of everyone. He kissed my neck and nibbled on my ear. It was hot.
“So are you coming?” Louis asked.
“Well, hopefully,” I responded. Yes, I’m dirty.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he smiled and hailed a cab.
During the five-minute cab ride, he just kept rubbing my groin area. Let’s be honest, I did the same.
We arrived in his studio apartment.
It was a shit hole—an I couldn’t-believe-a-gay-man-lived-here-shithole. Seriously, it was like a fraternity had just left. But it made me think of a frat boys and, well, I got hard again.
Within five minutes, we were both naked on the bed—a bed without sheets, mind you. He was a great kisser and we both kept muttering how hot the other was. At least we were polite.
Ten minutes in, Louis began trying to “knock at the back door,” if you know what I mean.
“Where’s your condom?” I asked, not knowing he already had it in hand. He pulled out his lube and poured it on his shaft.
And then I smelled it. Cherries. Yuck! I hate the smell of cherries. When I was a little fat kid, my mother once baked a cherry pie and I ate the whole thing behind her back. I threw up the whole rest of the day.
Louis’ lube smelled like four-day-old cherry pie.
“Excuse me,” I said, as politely Southern as I could. Dignity is really lost when you’re trotting to the bathroom naked. Something about a hard dick flopping while running just seems funny to me. I thought of giggling but was afraid sick would shoot out my mouth.
I shut the bathroom door and turned the faucet on just in time to hurl my brains out. I heaved for about five minutes. Once I was finished, I washed my face off and looked around.
Mouthwash. Mouthwash. Where’s the mother fucking mouthwash!
There wasn’t any. So I found the toothpaste, poured some into my mouth and swallowed.
Dumb idea. I threw up again.
Once I was finished again, I stood up and washed my face. This time, I put the toothpaste on my finger and “brushed” my teeth, while trying to stifle my gagging. It worked.
Walking out of the bathroom, I could see the shadow of Louis’ thick cock standing upright.
“Feel better?” he asked. He totally knew, so I didn’t even try to lie.
“Honestly, yes,” I responded.
I put one knee on the bed and he pulled me in and kissed me. Yeah, I know… gross. But five minutes later, we were fucking like bandits. The boy could fuck, I’ll give him that.
Then it was my turn. I held my breath as he poured the cherry flavored lube all over me.
Do you have to use so much? I thought.
“Sorry,” he said as if reading my mind. “I’m real tight.”
He wasn’t kidding. It took forever for me to inch inside of him, but remember, I love a challenge.
Louis really liked making out when he was being pounded so we fucked along great with one another… except for one thing.
Louis had the weirdest cum face. The morning light also beginning to come into the windows didn’t help. He looked a bit rough, and I’m sure I did too.
Anyway, Louis rode me while I leaned up staring straight at him.
“I’m gonna go,” he said, “I’m gonna go.”
And he did, and as he did I stared at his face, which screwed up like a baby about to cry. Seriously, it almost looked as if the boy was in pain. It was neither pretty nor hot. It was just, a bit creepy. Kind of like when bad male actors cry off into corners in Lifetime movies.
Five minutes later, Louis walked to the bathroom to clean himself off.
CLANG CLANG BANG CLANG!!!
“What happened?” I asked responding to the loud crash in the bathroom.
Louis walked out. “I knocked down the damn shower curtain. I think I broke it.”
He flopped on the bed defeated.
“That sucks,” I said sympathetically. “What a mess.”
“Well,” he said, “kinda par for the night.”
“Ouch,” I said, smiling.
“You know what I meant,” he said, kissing my forehead.
I did know what he meant. We both had a true moment of understanding. We knew this was a drunken, sloppy, dirty one-night stand. And we were both okay with that.
Ten minutes later, I walked down alone on Santa Monica Boulevard to where my car was. I hadn’t realized I parked so far away. I crossed Santa Monica and La Cienega and a particularly eccentric homeless person looked me up and down. This was his corner and I had walked past him often, but usually he never uttered a word.
Yet today, as he looked at me a whistle came out of his mouth. “Girl, you look you got ridden hard and put up wet. Hope it was worth it.”
As rain began to sprinkle, I nodded at the homeless man—too tired to say that it was.
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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
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge