"Would you like to go into The Darkroom with me?" he asked.
I smiled politely and said to him, "Thanks, Barry, but I've already seen it."
He seemed disappointed, and somewhat surprised. "OH...okay, I'll talk to you later," he said and abruptly walked away in the middle of our conversation.
Why are these guys so interested in showing me The Darkroom? I wondered. Barry had been the third guy I'd met at the party who asked me that question.
The flame from the single candle on the table seemed to sway back-and-forth with the music. I stared at the couples on the dance floor. The room was so dark it took some time for it to register in my mind that I was looking at men holding, caressing and dancing with boy's who were half their age, maybe younger.
"Johnny, sit closer to me," I heard Mr. Steele say.
We were sitting in a semi-circular booth. He was against the back wall. I slid over until I was close to
"Do you take it up the ass?"
I froze in place on the barstool. I couldn't believe he said that to me. I stared intently at the pool tables on the other side of the bar, ignoring him, not saying a word.
His large hand, which had been lightly stroking my lower back, moved to my thigh.
Between the bigness of his hand and the smallness of my body, he was able to wrap his hand around my thigh until his fingers met his palm. He squeezed and I felt his str
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