Page 6 of Brat on the Ball

I just laughed. “What can I get you to drink, handsome? You look like you need something.” Phil had placed my drink on the bar and was waiting for me to pay.

“I don’t know…” muttered the man.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I said. “ I just want you to feel safe and comfortable.”

Somehow, my planned hookup had turned into a night of babysitting the newbie. But I found that when looking at a man like that, I didn’t totally mind.

“A…wine, then please. Any kind.”

“Fancy,” I said, gesturing to one bottle behind Phil. Phil poured a generous measure of some cheap red and passed it over. I pointed the man over to the booths in the corner. “It’s quieter over there,” I said. “Want to join me?”

He nodded, and we skirted the periphery of the floor to the other side of the club, where the walled-off booths made the music seem quieter and kept us shielded from any wandering eyes. He sat down and I slid onto the bench next to him.

“It’s overwhelming your first time here, I know,” I said as he sipped on his wine. “But they’re a good group of lads, really. I wouldn’t come here otherwise. What are you looking for?”

“I…I dunno,” he said. “I came here with a plan. Then I got scared.”

“We’re not all so bad,” I said. “So, what was the plan?”

He hesitated. “…get laid.”

“No plan B?”

“Plan B was not to be rescued by a stranger from two men double my age,” he said.

“What’s your type, then?” I asked.

“What?”

I gestured across the dance floor. “If you’re not looking for a leather daddy, what are you looking for? Are you on the rubber scene? Are you a secret Dom? You can find pretty much anything here if you’re looking for it.”

Even under the lights, I could see him blushing. “I’m looking for someone to tell me what to do.”

Fuck. I had been critical of the guys who preyed on inexperience, but what he had just said had gone straight to my dick. I loved telling guys what to do. It was what I was most good at. Still. I’d be a guide if he wanted me to. I could tell him what to do.

“Come and dance with me,” I said, standing and holding my hand out. “Let’s find what you’re looking for.”

Chapter Four - Ollie

He was who I wanted. Out of the entire club, the stern guy with the attack eyebrows and arms that could break me in two was who I was most interested to meet. And I’d said the stupidest thing,tell me what to do.Teachwould have been more accurate. But perhaps advertising how little sex I’d had in my life wasn’t the right move anyway.

The club was warm and as he reached out to touch my hand and pull me into the fray I could see the sweat beading up on his skin. I realised I didn’t even know his name, but maybe that was for the best. Maybe that’s how they did things here.

He drew me into the centre of the crowd, where people were so close that I could feel the leather harness someone was wearing rubbing up against my back. A hand seemed to come from nowhere and brushed my crotch, but the man I was with grabbed their wrist and moved them away.

“No one can touch you without you asking for it, remember that,” he shouted over the music. I nodded.

Up close, he was just as rugged and fucking gorgeous as I’d thought when I’d first seen him. He looked just about as un-stereotypically gay as I could have imagined anyone to be. His chest was covered in hair and his shoulders were big and round and those arms…

Damn. Those arms. He was carrying some extra weight on him too, but all I wanted was to touch, to stroke. But I’d hardly ever done that in private, let alone in public.

“C’mon, let loose!” he said into my ear. “Get into the rhythm!”

“What rhythm?” I asked as I did a terrible attempt at a robot.

“Fucking hell man, you’ve really got to loosen up.” He held his hands near my hips and looked at me. After a second, I realised he was asking. I nodded, and he touched my hips, moving me gently from side to side. “This is how you do it,” he said.

It felt like there was a direct line from his fingertips to my heart. It thumped erratically as I tried to move with the music, but every little slide of those fingers on my hips. I didn’t even know what the song was. It didn’t matter. Every step we took, every little movement, brought us closer together. He was slightly taller than me, and his breath ghosted over my lips as he leaned down toward me. I leaned in too, closing the distance, and for the first time in far too long, I was kissing a man.

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