The Football Player

After bitching about boys for a while and making eyes with this hunk built like a football player, sporting blond hair and blue eyes and the paws of a cougar. My friend finally threw him at me. I was too shy to approach. So he made an excuse; cute boy came over, then my friend literally threw him at me, we smiled and …. 

Let me start from the beginning, first I thought he was another straight boy in a gay bar, after all that’s become quite popular recently; damn it. He had two women hanging all over him. Mind you they weren’t that pretty, they where just latched on like an abalone to a whale (a very hunky whale mind you) okay maybe a lion, he looked more like a lion, yet abalone don’t attach themselves to lions and I have no clue what hangs onto a lion, certainly not the very proud lioness. Alas I degrees.

That’s when my bitching starts (straight boy in gay bar) and well, my friend annoyed by my diatribe, takes action. He also, for a time begins runs interference for me. Taking the girls away, talking to them, while I get to actually find out his name and both drunk; smooze a bit. After I was thoroughly engaged, my friend went to a party. I stayed behind to think about possibilities.

When my freind left. I have never seen women go after a gay man with such vigor. Apparently one of them had kissed him four years ago, just stumbled upon him again in a gay bar and just couldn’t get that kiss out of her mind. She wanted another one. I will have to attest, he was a good kisser ... but still. Following is our brief conversation.

I finally asked “Are you bi?”
“No, I went on one date with her back in CA; when I was in High School.” Cute boys says.
“Oh” I respond.
“Yup” (She’s really hanging on at this point completely oblivious.)
“She isn’t dealing with the gay thing very well, is she?”
“Nope”

We finally broke away from the flock and had a chance to kiss again. Then we went to my place. Both being tired because of the late night, and the fending off of women; we didn’t do too much, mostly heavy petting and kissing. Yet we cuddled, he held me in his big arms, quite nice, quite nice. He made a big deal, before and after about getting together again. “You’re really cool. I so want to see you again. When you usually free.” All that jazz. He seemed really convincing. I thought he wanted to see me again.

A few days later I get a text message, saying “Sorry I’m too busy.” Sigh.

Comments

[marc]

what a wanker!