Member Status: Virgin

[Barratboy]

(This came from the post where someone asked what the "Stages of Members" meant. I thought it would be fun to make a series out of the titles, which are: Virgin, Curious, Barebacker, Sex Addict, Slut, and Whore. Here's the first part).

VIRGIN

It was a new year, and me and my friends were having a good time at the local bar, which had flipped form its usual older leather-and-bear crowd to a more mixed state for the night. New Year’s Eve decorations covered the place, and everyone had been given a nametag with a number written on it when they’d paid their cover. All night long, you could buy a little piece of paper for a quarter, and then the staff would deliver the message to the corresponding person. You could write whatever you wanted, and I was pleased to have received a couple of messages myself – most of them praising me as a “daddy” and suggesting the sender would enjoy some time alone.

About an hour after my buddies and I had arrived, and we’d gotten our usual booth and settled in for the evening, a group of guys arrived that weren’t at all typical for the place. They were college aged kids, clean-cut and a little wide-eyed at the place as they came in.

“Check out number forty-eight,” my buddy Warren said. Like me, Warren was a “daddy” – both of us fit, filthy and fifty, we liked to joke – we shared a general taste in fellows younger than us, though sometimes the specifics would differ. He had a boyfriend, though – a twenty-something he’d picked up at a coffee shop in an airport, Chris. Chris was fine on the eyes – and, Warren spared no shame in telling me – fine on the cock, too. Chris wasn’t with us tonight – which was a shame, since I liked to eye the fella myself – he’d had to work.

Tonight though, he was dead on – number forty-eight was a boy right up my alley. Young, cute, and trim, I could definitely find a way to enjoy time with him. He had dirty blond hair – not quite blond, not quite brown – and a snug red t-shirt that showed off how lean he was, as well as a pair of jeans that were snug around his ass, which was definitely his asset.

“Damn,” I said. “Sweet ass.”

“Fresh on the vine,” Warren laughed. “Just needs to be plucked and eaten.”

I grinned in agreement.

“Hang on a second,” I said, and dug into my pocket. I pulled out a couple of singles, and hopped down from the booth long enough to go buy the pieces of notepaper and grab a pencil. Back at the booth, I wrote the “48” on the back of one of them, and then flipped the first piece over.

“What do you think?” I asked. “Give it a shot?”

Warren laughed. “Buddy, I’ll bet you you can’t get anywhere with that boy. Too young, too pretty. He’ll want someone like himself.”

“I’ll take that bet. What’s the wager?” I asked.

Warren laughed, but then took a swig of his beer. “Okay,” he said. “I bet you can’t get your dick in that boy – no – I bet you can’t get your cum up that boy’s ass.”

I smirked. “In one night? That’s not a fair bet.”

Warren raised his beer. “Fine. Take the whole damn year. I feel magnanimous.” He laughed.

“Just mine?” I asked, smart-mouthing. “Shoot, that’s too easy. If I got a year.”

He shook his head. “Fine. You get in that boy’s ass, blow your wad, and have him take it from all your buds like a cheap whore in the next year, and you win.” He tipped his bottle back.

“What do I win?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Shit, I don’t know. You ain’t gonna do it.”

I leaned forward. “How about I get to fuck Chris if I win?”

He howled. “You’re a dirty old man. That’s my boy.” But he grinned. “Fine. And if you lose...” He frowned, looking around the room. “If you lose, you gotta let Earl suck your dick.”

I grimaced. Earl was a prissy queen who came to the bar most nights. He drove me nuts, and always hit on me. I looked over at number forty-eight, and he happened to meet my glance for a second. He blushed, and turned back to his friends.

Huh.

“You got a deal,” I said, and held out my hand. We shook.

I looked down at my note papers.

I wrote: “If you’ve got nobody to kiss when the countdown happens, put this note in your back pocket when you get it.”

I folded the note up, and handed it to a staff. Then I watched him and waited, drinking my beer. When he got the note, I kept an eye on him.

He unfolded it while his friends elbowed him and generally tried to embarrass him. He read it without letting them see – though one tried to – and then he glanced up and looked around the room. He didn’t see me, but I saw him slide the note in his back pocket.

I smiled.

The next note said: “It’s a shame a boy as cute as you don’t got someone to kiss the new year in with. If you don’t mind kissing a guy with a beard, same deal – into the back pocket with this note.”

This time, he really tried to look around the room – he paused on everyone with facial hair, which, given the clubs usual clientele, was about half the crowd tonight, but again I managed to duck a little out of his line of sight.

The second note went into his back pocket.

“Damn you if you don’t just think you’re gonna win,” Warren laughed. I’d been watching the boy carefully – him and his friends hadn’t been going slow on their drinks. I was counting on him to feel a little wild.

The third note: “Only an hour left until the countdown. You like what you see enough for just a kiss, you give me a note back.” This time I wrote my number on the back of another piece of the notepaper, and folded them up together, with his number showing.

After that, I waited. I managed to turn myself enough that my number – and my chest and arms – showed up to best advantage, and I chatted with Warren and waited. I didn’t look at the boy – I didn’t want to spook him, even if I was hoping to get some face to face time with him before the night was out.

After a while, one of the staff came by and passed me the note.

“Definitely like enough for a kiss,” it said. I glanced up, and the young fella was looking at me while I read it. He turned bright red, and glanced down when I smiled at him.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Warren sighed.

When the bar staff announced that the countdown would soon be starting, I slid out of the booth and walked over to the young fella, who had sidled away from his buddies and started to move toward me. We met half-way through the floor. Up close, he was hella cute.

“Hi,” he said. He was blushing again.

“I’m Jack,” I said.

“Corey,” he said.

I offered my hand, and we shook.

“Hi Corey,” I said. “I’ll be kissing you tonight.”

He laughed nervously, looking up at me. Behind us, the countdown started, and Corey looked at me, more and more nervously as the numbers dipped toward zero. I put my arms over his shoulders when the countdown hit five, and he shivered. But by the time we were at three, he’d put his hands hesitantly around my back, and leaned forward.

When we hit “Happy New Year!” and the noisemakers and cheering started, I gave that boy a real daddy’s kiss – I tugged him into my chest, crushed him with my arms, and filled his mouth with my tongue. He made a little noise, but like a good boy, he surrendered to it, and we spent a few really good seconds swapping spit. He hadn’t done much kissing, I gathered, but he was a quick enough study.

That, and the boy started to pop a boner against my thigh.

When we broke apart, he was breathing a little quickly.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

I reached into his back pocket and pulled out one of the notes. I let my fingers graze his butt a little too much, and he shivered again.

“You know this site?” I asked, writing down the name of a website where gay guys put up profiles and sent messages back and forth.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“This is me,” I said, writing down my screen name of DaddyKnowsBest. “When you’re up for another kiss, you drop me a line. Make sure you send me a friend request when you get home, you hear?”

He nodded, blushing. “I’m RunningMan92,” he said.

“Thanks again,” I said.

“Okay,” he repeated, and then took a step back.

I went back to the booth, and wrote down his screen name before I’d forget.

“Well?” Warren asked.

“That boy,” I said with a knowing smile. “Is a fucking virgin my friend.”

“Well shit,” Warren laughed. “You got your work cut out for you, don’t you?”

I just smiled.

[Barratboy]

I just posted the third part to this one.