- 1995 -

"Here. I got this for you."

"What is it?" I ask taking a plastic bag from Ian.

"Open it and find out," he says taking off his coat and stamping the snow off his shoes in the doorway. "I thought I'd come over before I had to head out to my next client and see what's up and if you wanted to come out and grab a bite to eat."

I look inside the bag and find a red fluffy Christmas stocking with furry white trim. It's plush and soft against my fingers and flipping it over to the other side I feel something like tiny shards of glass.

"What the..." I say as I move into kitchen to get a better look at the side with glitter under the light.

There's a C and something that wants to pass for an R and a very lazy S at the end.

"Ok so I'm not the best at writing someone's name with glitter glue, but I thought what the hell. Everyone deserves a Christmas stocking especially with Christmas a few days away," says Ian moving out of the kitchen to the living room after grabbing a beer from the fridge.

"What am I supposed to do with this," I turn around look towards the living room where Ian's just set himself on the couch.

He takes a swig of his beer and places it on one of my school text books that was lying on the floor next to the sofa. "Don't be an ass, Carlos. You're certainly not going to put it on your head!" he says half laughing and snorting. "You're going to put it," he says looking around the room and finally point to a spot over the television, "here."

He gets up, grabs the stocking from me, and goes into the kitchen and comes back with one of my tired, old vinyl chairs that I use to sit at my sad Formica dinner table that I had gotten from Goodwill.

"You know," Ian says stepping up on the chair with the nail stuck between his teeth, "it's not such a big ordeal to decorate this place for the holidays. Hand me the hammer, would you?"

I automatically hand him the hammer. "Maybe I don't want to decorate. Wait. I had a hammer?"

He pauses and turns to look at me, "Uhm, yeah, I found it under the sink...so what do you think? Is this high enough?"

"That's fine," I reply.

"What's up with you? You seem more moody than usual," he says coming down off the chair.

"It's nothing," I answer automatically and casting a curious eye at the stocking. I sit down on the sofa and pull one of the sofa cushions towards me.

"It doesn't seem like nothing to me," he says sitting on the couch with me. "Those guys you went to go see the other night didn't do anything too freaky, did they? I know they can be weird."

"Weird? They're freaks," I say plainly. "But, no, they didn't do anything too bad from what I could tell the next morning."

"Well that's good," he says. "You know we get all kinds in this line of work."

I laugh a bit thinking how true that is. I stop for a second wondering if should say what I am about to say. "You wanna know the really weird thing about that night? I actually kinda liked it."

Ian swallows the swig of beer that he had been swallowing almost choking, "You liked it? What do you mean liked it? They creep me the fuck out like you wouldn't believe and you're saying you like them?"

"It's not what you think," I say. "I'm not into their weird shit. It's just that when I was sitting between them and they were paying all that attention to me it felt so nice. I... I pretended I was... I was just a kid again."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Heh, well I don't think your parents or anyone's parent would slip their kid a sleeping pill in their hot chocolate for Christmas," he says playing with the label on his beer.

"Yeah, well there were times when I was kid that I wished I had been knocked out throughout the entire holidays," I say.

"What were your parents like?" asks Ian.

"My dad was pretty much never there. He and my mom would get into these fights and he would move out and then move back in to sleep on the couch in the living room. Honestly, I stopped noticing what was going on in their marriage when I was about ten. I figured it was none of my business and if they wanted to fuck their lives up then they could just keep me out of it.

"My mom was intense. Gawd, was that woman intense when she was on you about something," I half laugh remembering some of those times.

"What do you mean she was intense?" asks Ian moving closer to me.

"Well it's like she used to get super possessive about me and my brother. No one else could be number one in our lives before her. She'd nag, nag, nag about the littlest things to the point where you'd want to scream, but you couldn't `cause she'd go off and ground me. I never could do anything right, neither."

"Sounds rough," he says, "but, hey, I don't want to get you worked up. I'm supposed to be cheering you up and not bringing you down."

"It's ok," I say looking down at my hands on my lap amazed that I had managed to talk to someone about my past. "But now you know what I meant what I said that I liked the other night. I've never felt like that or even imagined living in a house where I could have a nice room, parents who actually pay attention, and all that."

Ian doesn't say anything. He looks like he's lost in some memory of his or he really is into the label on his beer,

"I'm gonna get another beer?" I ask changing the subject.

"Sure," he yells after me as I head into the kitchen.

I come back to find Ian absent-mindedly flipping through some of my text books that I used during the semester that just finished.

As if on cue he asks, "You're sure you don't mind me hanging out until I have to head out to my call?"

"Nah," I say as I start to flip through the channels on the TV. Actually, I have gotten used to him coming over and it's been nice to have someone to talk to... wait... not someone. Ian. It's Ian I'm glad to have. I think that before I just needed to be able to talk anyone or anything: a priest, a therapist, a dog, a plant. I just didn't know it. Now I'm just glad it's him.

"You wanna watch something in particular," I ask looking his direction on the couch.

He looks up from my English Literature text, "Nope, not really." He looks back down at the book and then at me, "What the hell are you going to do with "Sinners in the Hand of Angry God"?

I smile, "What do you mean?"

"Don't get me wrong. I'm all for getting an education and all and that it helps in landing a career, but what is knowing this," he says pointing to the piece by John Donne in the book, "going to do for you in looking for a job? Are you going to be a teacher or something?"

I cock my head to the side a little and think about it. "Well," I say shifting uncomfortably on the couch, "I was thinking about going into sales or marketing for a company."

"You don't like talking about this," he says fingering the pages of the book.

"No...no it's not that," I say pulling my legs underneath me on the opposite end of the couch. "It's not that at all. It's just that I never really talked about my plans with anyone at all."

His fingers stop and the book slips a little down his lap as he regards me with this look.

"What?" I ask.

"You're really that alone, aren't you?"

"Don't..." I close my eyes and grip legs a little tighter. Not this.

"Don't what," he says moving closer to me on the couch and cutting me off from saying what I really want to say.

I want to be angry. I want to be pissed, but I can't seem to find the will to muster any of that into my lungs. "Just don't go feeling sorry for me," I say sounding hollow.

Ian sits there and says nothing. He leans back on the couch and picks up the book he's had in his lap and goes back to the piece by Donne.

"You know I'm no angry god, Carlos. If anything I'm just as much a sinner as you are," he says finally flinging the book across the room towards my cheap Target bookcases.

"Yeah, I know that," I answer with a slight smile knowing how much sinning we both have done.

"Then give this whole bullshit act of a wall a rest and talk to me," he says moving closer. "There's nothing you haven't done that I haven't done. I'm not going to judge you or walk away."

"Alright, already," I smile. "Just give me some time to get used to this. It's been a long time since I've felt... safe with anyone. From time to time I shut down but it's got nothing to do with you."

Ian reaches over and places his hand over mine giving it a good squeeze while it hold my knees close to my chest, "I'm going to hold you to that."

For a few seconds his thumb brushes the back of my hand and it feels good. I look into his eyes and I'm right the edge of something where I feel I should say anything or do something, but I just sit there and enjoy teetering on that edge.

Nothing happens between us and we sit and enjoy the television for a while. I really am not paying any attention. I keep switching between the last job I did for those freaks, Cal, the stocking over the TV, and Ian sitting there on my couch and in my home. How'd he end up in here I think to myself.

After a while Ian gets up and throws the empty beer bottles in the trash, "Hey, I need to get going or else I'm gonna be late."

"Ok," I say coming out of my trance.

"Listen, since I know you're not going to be much for the holidays, like I am, so I figured you could join me in making some extra cash. You can come dance with me at the strip club downtown on Thursday," he says as he slips his hat on his head.

"Dance!? You're kidding, right?"

He's slipping his shoes on at the door and turns to add, "Don't give me that bullshit, remember? You promised. Besides I'll make sure it's enjoyable."

"Uh ... "

"Nah-uh nothing. You're going to do it and have fun at it. I'll make sure of it. A couple of shots, some good music, and a few tips will get you in the mood," he says cutting me off.

I walk over to the door to let him out and depsite myself I smile and start to laugh. This is the craziest thing I could do right now, but for the life of me I can't figure out why.

All bundled up to face the cold he stops and cups his hand on my face. "It's nice to see you laugh. It looks good on you."

Before I can say anything he leans and gives me a very sweet but short kiss.

Wow.

"Stay warm," and with that he walks out the door.

- 1987 -

"That was nice," says Cal. I'd just finished kissing him right after school in one of the deserted classrooms. He sighs and cradles my face in his hands before letting me go.

"Doesn't seem like you enjoyed it that much," I say leaning back against the teacher's desk.

He throws his head back and I can tell he's frustrated. "It's not you, ok."

"Yvette,"

"Yeah, her," he replies. "What the fuck am I going to do?"

"I can't believe you actually fucked her without a rubber..."

"Carlos... just stop, ok?" he says. "What does it matter now what I did?"

"Look, I'm sorry I said that," I said going across the room to him. "I just can't believe she had the nerve to come over and pound on your window. What happened after I left?"

I'd been rubbing his lower back and he turns to look at me, "She wanted to know what I was going to do about it."

"It? It the baby or it the whole situation?"

"I... I really don't know. We didn't really talk that much. Actually she's the only one that did most of the talking and I just stood there."

"But what did she say?" I press on. "She must have wanted something from you to come all the way in the middle of the night to talk to you."

He sighs getting up from the desk, "It's like I said, Carlos. She wants to know what we're going to do and fuck if I know what that is."

I kick a wadded up piece of paper left in the classroom wondering what I can say or what I can come up with to fix this. I've always believed that we have options. They might not be the best options but it's something that we can actually do except right now I didn't like any of them in particular.

"You don't think she wants you to marry her, do you?" I ask having mulled that as one of the most horrid options available.

"I don't know," he says hands over his eyes sounding a little irritated.

"Does she want to keep it? Do you want to keep it?" I say pressing further.

"I don't know!" he explodes. "I don't know, ok? I don't know what she wants to do. She just fucking showed up and put it in my fucking lap, ok? And, I have no god damn clue what the fuck I'm going to do! I don't have any answers and you pestering me isn't helping."

Cal's pacing around the room screaming at the top of his lungs. I'm glad that school and debate practice is over cause I'm sure somebody would have coming running in to find out what's going on.

"I'm sorry," I yell back causing him to stop and hang his head. "I'm actually trying to help here. There's gotta be something we can do." I begin to tick off the options on my hand, "First of all you can ask her to prove that this is your kid. She's not the most `wholesome' girl in class after all. Second, you can have her have an abortion. Hell I'll even help you pay for it. Or, maybe you can have her give the baby up for adoption. Maybe your parents can help with that."

Cal continues to listen. I'm on a roll thinking that we have options and that I'm not going to lose him to something as stupid as a knocked up high school student. "You can tell Yvette the truth, ya know. Tell her you're with me now. Maybe she'll back down."

"Are you fucking crazy!? Yvette? Back down?" he snorts. "Not only would we have to deal with being called fags but I'd be the fag that got his ex-girlfriend pregnant. Do you know what that would be like? Do you know what my parents would do? Do you know what this school would do to us?"

I reach out to try and reason with him, "No, what would all that be like?"

He swats my arm away with his eyes ablaze, "My parents would fucking lose it, man! Their last son making up for all the perfect children they've had by being some double loser – gay and getting a girl pregnant. Oh and you can bet that anything that you've had to deal with before with the Claudia and her friends would be fucking cake compared to this. Imagine what they would do with this,"

"Is that what you think? Is that what you really think that we are – losers?" I gesture between us. "This is all some fucking joke to you."

"Gaaah," he drops to his haunches with his arms over his head. "Just stop it, ok? Would you fucking lay off me?"

I lean back against a desk and pinch the bridge of my nose willing the headache behind my eyes to go away and to give myself a moment to calm down.

"Fine, fine... I'll stop but just know that I'm trying to help you." I say looking down at him. He's fully slumped down on the floor with his head leaning back against the wall in the classroom. "I'm trying to help us," I add more softly.

"I know you are," the fight in him starting to escape with a sigh. "I'm scared."

I drop in front of him and rub away a tear sliding down his cheek, "I am too. I'm afraid I'm going to lose you. I thought we had some time to sort us out what with Anna and our parents and college coming up but now... now this changes everything. I guess I just want to fix this for you."

His head rolls off to the side and into my open palm, "I know."

"Then let me help you."

He gently grabs the wrist of my hand cradling his face, "I don't know if there is really anything you can do, Carlos." He looks down and interlaces our hands together. "This is something between Yvette and me. This isn't just her baby. It's my baby too."

"Now you don't know that for sure," I start before he softly but firmly cuts me off with a tighter grip on my hand

"Carlos, stop. I have to figure this out and right now I don't even know what I'm thinking or feeling. I'm just trying not to freak and you trying to help like you are is pushing me over the edge."

"I didn't mean..." I begin to explain myself.

He puts his other hand on my mouth, "Shhh... let me finish." He pulls up from the floor and he sits himself in the teacher's chair while I sit across from him on the desk. He holds my hands and looks up at me, "Carlos, about earlier... about us. I love you. I love you very much but even without this shit with Yvette I don't think I would be ready right now to let everyone know about us. I was happy before just having this be between us."

"But the other day you were freaking out about Anna..." I start wanting him to explain how he can just change his mind so quickly like that."

"That's different. That's me getting insecure about how you feel about me but to just come out and tell everyone that you and I are together? I don't think I'm ready for that. As long as I knew you loved me was all that mattered, but now it's complicated."

"What do you mean – complicated?"

"That's just it. I don't know and I have to figure out what I'm going to do and right now I don't have any answers and you pushing isn't helping me so please, please just give me some time to figure this out."

I close my eyes and sigh, "What are you saying? Do you want me to leave you alone?"

"No, I just need you to lay off for a bit. Let me think this through"

"Ok," I stand up arms crossed and walk away from him trying to find the right combination, the right cure of things to say and do that could fix this and I couldn't think of anything that would put us back to the way we were before this. "Fine," I say softly.

"I love you, Carlos," he wraps his around me startling me. I hadn't heard him get up to stand right behind me.

With my voice cracking I grab his arms, "I love you too. I just don't want to lose you."

Trying to regain some sense of control I turn around to face him, "Ok, I'll give you some space. We've got one more day of class before the weekend and I've got to help my mom around the house on Saturday and not mention that I've got something going on Friday night with Anna. Just promise me that before you decide on doing anything that you'll call me, ok?"

"I promise," he says planting a small kiss on my lips.

"It's getting late and I've got homework and my mom's probably wondering where the hell I am," I try to smile back.

"Ok," he says starting to let me go but before he completely lets go and I leave he adds, "You are still one of the strongest people I know and you have no idea how I envy that."

I smile weakly knowing that admission is something if not an affirmation of our love and walk out of the classroom. Walking home I resolve again to figure out something for us to do. There's gotta be a way to prove that Yvette's been sleeping around. This can't be Cal's kid. I don't quit. Ever. I always have fought back even with all this shit with the GT class and Claudia and even with Anna. I thought that I'd never stand a chance with a girl like Anna but I didn't quit. I wasn't afraid to let my guard down.

Now there's this and I'm not going to stop fighting for Cal.

I got home 20 minutes later and found my brother watching TV in the living room, "Where's mom?"

"I dunno," he says not bothering to look up.

I start to look for something to eat in the fridge still trying to come up with anything that would make sense.

"Hey," Javier yelled from the living room, "Anna called you."

"Ok," I grab the phone in the hall and pull it into my room along with my leftovers from the fridge.

"Mom's going to freak if you're eating in your room," I hear Javier from down the hall.

"She's not going to find out," I yell back. I think I heard him mutter something back but he's too engrossed in the episode of McGyver he recorded on the VCR last night. I dial Anna's number knowing that I've not been paying attention to her like I should. She picked up after a few rings.

"Hello," she answers.

"Hey, it's me." I say with my mouth half full of leftovers.

"Don't talk with your mouth full! That's gross," she says half joking and half serious. Uh oh. She tends to be giggly bossy when she's a little miffed.

"Sorry," I say swallowing the rest of the food in my mouth.

"Listen," she says, "for Friday's dance I was wondering if we could invite Cal. I have someone that I think he might be interested in."

I nearly choked on the soda that I had been swallowing, "What!?"

"There's a girl from the church that goes to the retreats with my younger sister that I think Cal would have a good time with to get his mind off of Yvette."

"Anna, I really don't think that's ... ," gawd could this get any worse?

"Oh come on. He really needs to get his mind off of Yvette and I think that this is the perfect thing for him. He'll be with us and I know this girl. She's nice and she's nothing like Yvette at all. I actually called him right before you called but his mom said he hasn't made it home from school yet."

I push the plate of food away from me having lost my appetite, "Don't you think that this is something he needs to come to on his own? He just broke up with Yvette and you want to push someone else on him?"

"Gosh, it's not like he's going to marry her at the dance, Carlos. He's just going to spend time meeting someone new and it would help if his best friend were there to help with the introductions. I know he'll listen to you."

I snort derisively knowing how well he had just listened to me less than an hour ago, "I don't know about this."

"Just promise me that when you talk to him later that you'll ask him to join us. Don't tell him anything about this that way there won't be so much pressure. Besides it's the least you can do to make up for how little time you've spent with me the past few weeks," she adds.

I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose again with the familiar headache roaring back to life from earlier this afternoon. "Fine. I promise I'll ask him." Here I go making promises I sure as hell don't want to keep.

"Great," Anna beams through the phone, "I love it when a plan comes together beautifully like this. You watch this will be perfect."

We talked a few minutes more before I heard my mother's car coming into the carport. Anna knew very well that I had to hang up and get that plate of food back into the kitchen before my mother walked in. Anna knew how much I liked eating at my desk in my room.

The rest of the evening was mostly ok except that my mom could actually smell the food had been down the hall in my room and she forbade me to use the phone that night. That was ok I guess since I didn't really want to tell my boyfriend that my girlfriend wanted to set him up on a date.

Life's really fucked up sometimes.

- 1995 -

"Dude, this is totally fucked up," I say laughing at myself in the mirror. There are about 4 other guys in the upstairs office of the gay bar that Ian and I are supposed to dance at tonight.

"Nah, you're fine. You just need some fluffing up," he says adjusting how the straps sit on my hips.

"Uhm, hello, someone call for a fluffer," says one of the other dancers putting on his gear for the show. The black leather chaps rasp against the chair in the tight quarters making his way toward us.

"My name is Duane," he says introducing himself to me. He's ebony skin is smooth as is the rest of his body or at least what wasn't hidden by the leather.

He turns to Ian, "Well, well, well... you didn't tell me you were hiding this lovely young thing from all of us." Though Duane is built and buff the voice coming out of his mouth was all queen.

"Come off it, Duane," laughs Ian. "You're a sucker for fresh meat."

"Oh, you got that right," coos Duane as he caresses my bare nipple with his fingers, "but this is one fine looking man you have here."

I just look down and blush with a smile on my face.

"Aww look. He's shy," adds Duane giving my exposed ass a nice hard slap. He turns to look at Ian, "Well you know he's going to need an outfit to wear and he's not going to make any money acting all skittish on the dance floor during his number."

"Don't worry. Don't worry," Ian assures him. "I've got it covered. He'll be wearing Jim's construction outfit," he says motioning over to another dancer adjusting his cock in his thong. Next to him was a policeman's uniform which I assume he was going to use instead of the construction uniform that I was going to use.

"And as far as loosening him up," Ian reaches for a flask he had his in gym bag and pours me a shot in an empty coffee mug that has the club logo on it. "This should do the trick."

"What is this," I say taking the cup from him and sniffing it.

"It's just come Captain Morgan rum. Take a few shots of this before your number and you'll be fine. Just go with the music and let your body do what it wants to do," he says reaching into my thong to grab a hold of my cock. He starts to slowly and sensuously give me a hand job. "Well except for this," he squeezes my cock for emphasis. "We need this to get hard."

I giggle feeling the warmth of the rum rush through my body. I now pay attention to the seemingly far off din and thumping beat of the music in the bar down below.

"That's not how you fluff someone," exclaims Duane coming back toward us. He hunches down with a theatrical sigh like he's bothered and pulls my cock out. He slowly begins to lick underneath my shaft before licking the ridge of my cock's crown. He then starts to expertly suck me off. Between that and the rum I remember myself. I am, after all, a male escort and puff myself up with pride for my profession. I half sigh in pleasure and giggle at the same time at the ludicrous image in my head of me unionizing all of Harold's escorts.

While I'm getting blown Ian pours me another shot, "Listen to me. These pants have snaps on the side as does the shirt. All you need to do is go out there and dance for at least half the song fully clothed and then every 30 seconds or so take something off. Make it smooth and sensual or just rip it off. Do whatever you think would work with the mood you are in. Just remember to work the audience. Get them worked up and they will take their money out. The more your tease the more they're going to want to give you money in hopes that you'll let them touch you or let them look at your cock."

At that comment Duane pulls off my cock, "Just don't look like you're too easy or else they'll think you're cheap and can be had. You want to make them work for you so don't give away the store. Wait until your number is over and you're dancing on the bar or one of the side stages after the show." Duane goes back to sucking my cock some more.

"Careful, careful," Ian chides Duane. "You don't want him to cum yet."

Duane pulls off and puts my now very erect cock in my thong and gives Ian this playful sneer. He then looks back at me, "There you go sweetie. It was my pleasure." He pats my cock gently as he licks his lips.

I smile back blushing, "Thanks."

"Here put this on before you put on your costume," says Ian handing me a cock-ring.

Cock-rings I know and I have no problem putting them on as I have several at home that I sometimes take to some of my clients who like they way the look.

"When am I going on," I ask as I finish put on the rest of the costume and look at myself in the mirror. I don't look so bad as I grin lopsidedly in the mirror.

"Right after Jim," answers Ian as he puts his stethoscope around his neck to finish off his doctor costume/look. "I'll be going first and then when I'm done I'll be out on the side bar dancing. Which reminds me when you are done with your number you come up here and put your clothes away and walk down to the side stage or to the bar to dance for more tips while the rest of us perform."

Jim has already gone downstairs as we are speaking and I can hear the club DJ announce him to the club. Ian then points out Jim's bag and tells me to just fold up his costume and put it in Jim's bag. Ian then takes both of our bags and tucks it under desks in the office.

I look back at the mirror and can't remember when I last was going to dance in front of so many people much less as a stripper. I start to remember another dance a long time ago when I guess Ian catches my far away look.

"Hey, you ok," he says stroking the side of my face.

I go back into escort mode, put on my fake smile, and tug at my cock, "Heh, nah I'm fine."

Ian pauses a second like he's not buying it but I guess he decides to let it go, "Listen, I know this isn't the best time but it is almost Christmas Eve and all," he says looking at the clock up in the office that says it's 10:14pm, "but I wanted to tell you that the other day with you was more than just a hook-up."

I look him in the eye and I can tell that this is serious for him and that he's really opening up to me.

I nod giving him permission to continue.

"And, I know that you and this Jeff guy were dating before the break but," he says looking down as if losing his confidence, "if that doesn't work out I'm here, ok?"

Jim's music is blaring through the speakers with his number about ¼ of the way through. Duane's off in the other side of the office too busy adjusting the ray bans on his face to notice us and when I look back I see Ian is still waiting for some kind of response for me.

I reach for his hand that had been stroking my face but that was now resting on my hip, "Thanks, Ian. I know I haven't been the easiest person to get to know and I appreciate what you are doing for me now," I smile sweetly hoping he'll understand that I really do appreciate him and at the same time realize that this isn't easy for me. "Why don't we talk about this when we are done later? Tonight?"

"Deal,"

"Drama, drama, DRAMA," squeals Duane while till trying to perch his leather hat on his head. "You know I can still hear every word you bitches said despite that same tired ass Madonna number Jim always plays for his little routine." With that he turns around flashes us his bright toothy smile.

Ian turns around hands on his hips and laughs, "Just mind your own business and by the way your chaps are crooked."

Duane immediately turns around to look in his mirror and begins to adjust his chaps this way and that way grunting that he can't seem to get it right. Secretly, I'm glad Duane was there. It made the rest of the time Ian go by easier. My cock stayed hard with the cock ring and I took one more shot of Captain Morgan when Ian went down to do his number.

I sat down for a few minutes and listened to Duane and Jim cackle and gossip about someone downstairs who works in the club when Jim came back to stash his costume. I began to focus like I was going to go do a job and perform. I am here to service someone else and I started to turn on that charm, that personality of mine that my clients and some of the customers below knew – the hot sexy student with an awesome cock and body.

By the time Ian came back he was all sweaty and had more than a fistful of singles and even a fiver or two. He told me he was going to be dancing on the side bar during my number as he stashed as his clothes in his bag. Jim was going to be dancing on the bar. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek and slap on the ass before I started running down the stairs.

The DJ was calling my name as I was coming up to the dance floor. The club as crowded at this point and the customers parted a little bit as I tried to make it to the dance floor. While the DJ cued up my music I took a deep breathe and slipped into my `persona' for the night. The rum helped – a lot actually. The cock ring was doing its job too. It wasn't that bad actually. I decided to go for nice, slow, and sensuous as the music blared over the speakers. There were a lot of cute guys and some older and not so good looking guys but it didn't matter to me what they looked like as long as I saw a folded up bill sticking out from their hands.

Though it felt like hours it was only about 10 minutes worth of dancing and stripping when it was all said and done. I'd followed the advice I'd been given and teased and worked it for all it was worth and I was rewarded with fives, a lot of singles, a few tens, and even a twenty dollar bill. I waved to the crowd and ran up the up stairs passing Duane on the narrow stairway.

"You go, gurl," he said as he passed me.

I folded up my costume and neatly tucked it into Jim's bag. He must already be dancing on the bar I thought to myself. I tucked a few dollar bills through the side of my thong and checking to make sure that I still had a nice boner in my thong. When I got to back out into the bar I realized I hadn't decided where I was going to dance while Duane did the last strip number for the night.

A few guys came up to me and rubbed my sweaty chest and played with my nipples. I smiled back and laughed playing along. Ultimately I decided to go dance on the main bar. The bartender at that station I choose was friendly and cordial knowing that he would get more customers with a hot dancer on his bar. As I pulled myself up I felt a hand slide down between the cleft of my ass and gently rub my hole. It felt nice and when I got up and turned around the guy rewarded me with a dollar bill.

It went on like this – dancing and getting tips for about 30 minutes. Jim was busy working side of the bar while Duane and Ian worked the side stage. They both seemed to be doing really well on tips like I was. It must be the holiday season with classes out and people on vacation. It seems like everyone was in a good mood and happy to bestow us with their glad tidings. I waved at Ian and he waved back with a smile. I was actually getting into this and having a good time. It would never pay as much as hustling and be something I would do full time but it was turning out to be not so bad.

After a few more minutes Ian and Duane came over from the side stage to the bar, "We're going to going to go get changed," yells Ian over the music and the crowd at the bar.

I cup my hand to my ear to show that I'm having a hard time hearing.

"They're going upstairs to change," says Jim who'd come over from the other side of the bar to explain. "The side stage usually shuts down around midnight but since we are hear on the bar we usually stay till 12:30"

"Thanks!," I say yelling into his ear.

The music is loud and there is a crowd around Jim and I. They had noticed us get close to each other and were cheering us on to dance with each other. Jim and I looked and other just shrugged and went with it. We gyrated and grinded against each other and this made the money flow even more. Guys were lining up to tip us and to order drinks and at one point it was at least 4 people deep at the bar.

I squatted down to let a patron put a dollar bill in my thong and feel my cock when for some reason I decided to look to my left and right into the eyes of Jeff.

I froze and instinctively tightened the grip on the guy's wrist whom was placing a tip in my pouch.

"Ouch, that fucking hurt," says the older guy.

I quickly apologize and look back to still find Jeff looking at me. It was a cold, hard look. He pauses for a second and turns fights his way back out of the crowd. I jump down and start to chase after him pushing through the throng of people. I catch up to him and grab him by the shoulder as he makes it to the outside patio. It's cold and therefore not many people are there.

"Jeff," I start to say.

"Get your hands off me," he snaps back which causes some of the other gay men in the outside bar look at us.

"Jeff, I can explain..." I start trying to figure out what exactly I was going to say in the next few seconds that would make sense.

"Explain what," he snarls back. "Explain to me how I guy that I've been wanting ever so much to open up to me is grinding some other guy half naked on a bar for all to see? Explain to me why I wasted my time coming back all the way from my parent's house to come spend Christmas with you?"

"You're mad because I'm dancing at a bar?" I ask stalling for time.

He snorts derisively throwing his head back, "Oh my god you think that's why I am mad? You don't get it do you? I beg and plead for you to open up about yourself and you refuse saying that you need your privacy and space and then I come here to find you dancing on top of bar?"

"I know how this looks," I say starting to feel the chill of the cold air outside as well as the chill from Jeff's stare.

"How this looks? Carlos, I don't care if you are a dancer. I don't care if you strip for money. What pisses me off is that you don't talk to me. You could have told me you were a dancer and I wouldn't have cared but instead of you telling me I find out like this?" I feel his breath hiss on my face and chest as he leans into tell me all this so that the other guys won't hear. "Why do you have to keep secrets from me?"

I started shaking from both the cold and the conversation. Jeff noticed and sighed, "Look you're freezing and we really can't talk about this here," he said looking around at the few guys smoking out here with us who were also trying very poorly to not act like they were listening to us.

"You still want to talk to me," I asked?

He considered this for a moment before answering, "Yeah, but it looks like you still need to finish what you were doing he motioned to the dollars I had been gripping tightly in my hand.

I shrugged it off, "No it's ok. We were about to wrap things up at 12:30. I just need to go get my things from upstairs."

"Ok," he answered. "I'm not mad that you are a stripper, Carlos. Hell if I had your body I would do it too but I need you to be honest with me, ok?"

I nodded and realized right then that I was going to have to tell him the truth when I came back downstairs.

"I'll be here when you're done," he said.

"Thanks," I said and then started back inside. The club had started thinning out with it getting close to closing. The cold air outside had made my muscles ache and with the quick transition inside to the hot club air my ears began to painfully defrost. As I bounded up the stairs in my dancing boots I thought about Ian and the promise that I made to him before our show. Fuck this was getting ... complicated.

Damn.

Where had I heard that before?

I finally made up to the top and pushed the door open when I started to call out Ian's name.

That's when I slip and I hit my head hard on the desk where Ian and I had stashed our bags. I grimaced and held the side of my head, "Fuck!" I roll around on the floor for a couple of seconds when I realize that I'm getting wet by whatever it was that made me slip. It's all over my back and shoulders. I reach down with my other hand and tentatively rub my fingers through the slick mess. At first I thought it was the rum that I'd left behind earlier but quickly realize it's too thick and sticky to be rum. In the dim light of the room I open my eyes and see the dark red liquid on my fingers.

Blood.

"What the fuck," I say when all of a sudden I feel drops fall on my outstretched legs from up above.

I feel the grime and blood start to dry on my shoulders and fingers as my eyes reluctantly follow the drops from the ceiling. Someone must have turned off the lights around the mirrors and the only lights in the room are from the computer monitors and solitary banker's lamp across the room, but it's enough to let my eyes adjust to be able to see. I slowly look up and see what looks like a body hanging by its neck slightly swaying. It's a silhouette with the light from the lamp behind the body.

"Oh fuck," I say realizing that someone's dead body is bleeding all over me. I try to get up but slip again and fall against the chair next to the desk before finally blacking out.



email the author at austswim@aol.com

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