"Do you play?"
I'll never forget hearing those three words way back in the summer of 1986.
I was 25, working in a mid-sized Midwestern city and had the good fortune of being invited to one of the biggest and best parties held each summer by a well-known and popular hair stylist who owned his own salon.
Jim knew a lot of people and his parties were the talk of the town. I had come to know him through by job at a local newspaper where I worked as an under-paid but happy reporter.
The key words there and "under-paid." Learning of the party and how well it was catered and attended, I - of course - jumped at the chance.
I figured that in the worst case scenario, I'd get fed and drink well. I'd see some people I knew, meet new people and, who knows, maybe get lucky?
"Okay, let's not get carried away," I thought as I drove to the address.
Wow, what a crowd. I had to park two blocks over and walk to the house.
When I got there, I was warmly greeted by Jim, our host. He has a beautiful sprawling house, I soon learned, and I was having a great time hanging out with friends, meeting new people, drinking and enjoying munchies.
Now, I had always suspected Jim could be gay, but it never mattered to me.
I've always figured that as long as kids or animals are not involved, what someone does to get off is what someone does to get off. To each their own. I'm not here to judge.
That said, I did notice some guys hanging out talking with other guys despite a bevy of beauties bouncing around the party.
I chatted up a few women, got nowhere fast, and decided to indulge in the free and abundant liquor. Feeling good after several drinks, I noticed a piano. Never having played, i sat at the bench.
I was soon joined by Jeff, a co-worker of mine. He also had had a few cocktails and was in a good mood.
"Whatcha doing?" he asked.
"I decided to try and play the piano," I replied and we laughed. "Now, what song to play?"
I decided i'd try to play the distinctive piano bit in "She's a Rainbow" by The Rolling Stones. It's slower and can't be that hard to figure out, I figured.
But, again, having no formal training, I had no clue whatsoever how to play that part of the song.
So, I began plunking at various keys in an attempt to find the right combination. Jeff and I had a good laugh or two as we both were hitting keys.
It was a pretty funny moment, two half-drunk colleagues attempting to channel their inner Ian Stewart, the piano player for the Stones.
We finally seemed to be finding the right keys and - I must admit - didn't sound half-bad.
Then I heard someone ask, "Do you play?" Turning to my right, I saw a dark-haired man, about six feet tall, with a mustache and holding a drink. He was smiling at us.
"No," I replied, "I don't play. I'm just trying to play."
The man smiled at repeated his question. Only this time, he asked "no, do you play?'
His emphasis on the word "play" had changed. It dripped with innuendo as in "do you play sexually with men" and "do you want to play with me."
Jeff was into the piano. I'm not sure he heard what was implied.
But I sure did.
I smiled at the man and said "no, I don't play" with a chuckle. He wandered away. Jeff and I tried some more songs but both decided we'd better stick to our day jobs.
Nonetheless, that man's question stuck in my head. I was young, unattached and, frankly, had been curious for a while. Everyone is to some degree.
Truth be told, I was flattered by the man's question and also kind of turned on. But I couldn't say anything along those lines when Jeff sitting beside me. I did not want to be the topic of conversation at work on Monday.
Eventually, Jeff decided to chat up some friends. I decided this was my chance to find the man who wanted to know if I played.
After about 10 minutes - it was a very large house - I saw him standing in an animated conversation with a few people.
Not wanting to interrupt, I stood off to the side. Eventually, his gaze found me and I smiled and nodded at him. He smiled and nodded in return.
A moment or two later I heard him tell the people "well, it was so nice to see both of you" as he excused himself and strolled over to me.
"No more piano?" he asked.
"No, we decided we weren't going to very good at it, although we had a fun time pretending." I said.
He smiled again.
"Yes, playing can be fun. Lots of fun," he said.
He extended his hand and said, "hello, I'm Bill."
Shaking his hand, I replied, "hi, Bill, my name is Steve."
"Good to know your name. You were just handsome guy playing the piano a bit ago," Bill said.
I laughed.
"Handsome? I'm flattered. I don't hear that too often," I said.
"Well, you should. It's true," Bill replied.
"Thanks, again," I said. "Bill, I, um, wanted to ask you something."
"What's that?" he said.
"Well, at the piano, when you asked me a second time 'do you play' it sounded kind of different. Like you meant more than the piano," I said.
Bill glanced around as if to see if anybody else was in earshot.
"I wondered if you played, as in played around. You know, having fun you can't really enjoy on a piano bench during a party," Bill said.
I thought to myself "wow, this man is hitting on me big time." I felt flattered and wanted to know more.
"Well, I've been known to have some fun. There are few women who can attest to that," I said with a smile.
He smiled back, paused and asked "what about men?"
I felt my cock twitch a bit in my pants, wondering what it would be like to look down and see that mustache glide over my cock head as he sucked me.
"I can see you're thinking about my idea," Bill said.
Clearly, this wasn't his first time trying to reel in a young object of his desire.
But I wanted to not rush things so I just smiled and said "maybe."
We made small talk about our jobs. Her worked as the manager of a local department store in the mall. He was 45, twenty years my senior, but we hit it off very well.
"Are you enjoying the party?" Bill asked.