I just want to give major kudos to my editor, RogueLurker. She's a great lady, and this wouldn't be readable w/o her help. If you like this story, then give her a pat on the back when next you see her.
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Dusty saw Deb coming across the quad, and gave a little wave. Deborah, actually, but she hated that, insisted that people call her Deb. In her opinion Deborah was a name you'd give someone that you expected to speak with her teeth clenched, and play the violin, not someone who laughed like a donkey, and played the electric bass in a garage band. They had agreed to meet for the concert on the commons at 5:30 on their way to see Deb's favorite group, an a capella band called
Word of Mouth
. Naturally, she was late.
Deb stopped about 15 feet from where he stood leaning against a tree with his legs crossed at his ankles, looking him over like a buffet at Sizzler. His sleeveless t-shirt fit like a second skin, with the words 'I'm With Stupid' and an arrow pointing at the fly of his 501s. His auburn locks in their perpetual disarray. Five minutes after he brushed his hair, it would be an unruly mess, forever looking like he had just climbed out of bed from a hot session with some lucky guy. Taken on their own, his finely sculpted features and golden brown eyes would be considered pretty, but a strong masculine aura gave him an air of confidence and predatory raw sexuality that saved him from being labelled a "boy toy". No one ever thought to question it.
"Do you have any idea how many times I've wished you were straight, Dusty?" she sighed melodramatically as she approached him.
"I'd guess about as many times as I've wished Mel Gibson would suck my cock. You know, my little brother Trevor looks a lot like me, and I'd bet he'd really go for some mature poon." He wore a wicked grin as he said this.
"Ick, man. He's barely
legal
. Plus, he's probably a virgin. What, I ask you, would
I
do with a virgin?"
"The same thing you'd do with a non-virgin, only more times probably. Not to mention the fact that you wouldn't have to deal with any bad habits that he might have picked up from some other chick. You'd be training him from scratch, babe. Think of it, he's basically a walking erection who would be extremely eager to please. "
"Damn. You make a good case. I just might have to seriously think about it."
They walked over to where he had parked his VW and climbed in. He loved his van. While it was the furthest thing from sexy, it had plenty of room in the back for a good-sized mattress, which he kept a 400-thread count set of fresh and folded sheets sitting on the middle of, ready for anything.
Once they arrived and found their seats, they had about a half hour to wait for the show to start. Dusty was amazed that Deb was able to get tickets at such a late date. The band was starting to build a reputation in the States and the hall was filled with fans. They already had bedrock following from when they were on a kids' show some years back. That was how Deb had gotten hooked on them. They had been very popular overseas, but had only recently begun to make waves over here.
"Deb, you never said how you got the tickets and passes." Dusty whispered.
Also whispering, she replied, "I went online, and bought them from their site months ago. It seemed to take forever for them to arrive."
About a minute before 7 the house lights lowered some, the stage lights came up, and a voice announced the group. And there it was, that incredibly sexy voice coming through the sound system. The prime tenor for the group came out onto the stage, strutting like he owned the place.
"God, he's so
hot
! I just wanna throw him down right there, and have my way with him." Dusty sighed.
"I don't think you'd stand a chance. I'm telling ya, he's not gay. Look at how he's focusing on the ladies out here," Deb argued.
"It's camo, babe. All an elaborate act. He's not out of the closet yet."
"Nah, he's flirting with that woman Keith just hauled up on stage. He's all rubbing his ass on hers and everything. I'm telling ya, Chris is straight. You'd have a better chance with Jed, the percussionist. I don't get why you're into him anyway. He's not your usual type.
This was true enough. He usually went for jock types, big muscles, big cocks, little brains, and little in the way of talent outside the bedroom or the field. There was just something about this guy though. He was average height with light colouring, and sharpish features. His physique would be called willowy if he was a woman. What an athlete would think of as a swimmer's build.
"I know, but Chris is just sizzling. Look at him jumping around up there. The guy is a huge ball of energy. He must be incredible in the sack, plus that sexy voice? Sheeit, Deb, you know what I'd give to make that guy whine like a kitten. If you need some proof that he's gay, I'll give it to ya."
"How?" Deb demanded.
"Patience, Grasshopper. All will become clear in time." He said with a smug grin.
Dusty looked around at the other people seated in the auditorium. The place was big, and steeply tiered. The head of the person sitting in front of him was at chest level. Figuring anyone onstage would be able to just about see into the laps of the audience, he prepared himself to gather the proof Deb wanted.
They were starting a slow song just then, and Dusty gave his full attention to Chris as he began singing. Chris was scanning the audience, making eye contact now and again, and Dusty's goal was to catch his eye and hold it. His eyes scanned past, lingering only for a second, but then snapped back, drawn to Dusty like ball bearings to an electric magnet.
Dusty knew what he saw was a guy in the third row staring directly at him, and lightly stroking his package, while wearing a "come hither expression". Dusty's grin widened when Chris actually faltered, his voice seemed to catch in his throat for a split second. His eyes lingered on the movement of the hand, then catching himself he flushed and looked away. After that the singer's eyes would skitter back every few seconds, never staying away for long. At the end of the song, the group exited stage right to get ready for the next number.
"See?"
"Jesus wept, you and your fucking gaydar. I really hate you right now. You
know
how hot I am for him, and you have to go and prove to me that he's a fag. Thank you
sooooo
much." Deb's eyes were shooting daggers at Dusty, who just laughed.
Back stage, Chris felt like he'd slipped through the looking glass. He couldn't believe the heavenly creature flirting with him from the third row. If you could call what the redhead was doing "flirting". He'd never had anything like this happen, and wasn't at all sure how to handle it. His experience was limited to being picked up in a 7-11 once, and another time while he was reading in Central Park. This guy had to be messing with him. He was just too good looking to be honestly interested.
Kevin and the others started making obvious innuendoes while he adjusted his clothes to hide the evidence of his arousal. It was intended as gentle teasing among friends, but they weren't helping the situation. At first, he hadn't even been sure the attention was aimed at him. He had to believe it, since the others had concluded that there was something to rib him about.
Chris could usually give as good as he got when it came to joking around, but he seemed to have lost his equilibrium. Gary decided to take matters into his own hands.
"Guys, time to let up. We can't go back out onstage with him all flustered like this."
Dusty and Deb were still whispering together when the band returned to the stage, arranging themselves for their next number. Chris had changed his outfit a bit. He was wearing grey slacks, a midnight blue silk shirt under a grey and blue waistcoat with a grey jacket that matched the slacks. When he came back out on stage, the jacket had been tied low, around his slender hips, the knot of the sleeves directly in front of his fly. He was still strutting, but seemed a little less comfortable now.
Right away, he started trying to catch Chris' eye again. It wasn't difficult to do. His eyes were obviously drawn to him. Every time Chris looked at him, Dusty was doing something erotic. To keep the singer's attention he had undone his belt and the top button of his jeans so that he could adjust himself, making sure Chris was looking when he did it.
Dusty had kept up his campaign of seduction for most of the concert, and he was really starting to hope it would be over soon as his balls were really starting to ache from the constant state of arousal he had kept himself in while putting on his show for Chris.
As soon as the group said good night, and it was clear they wouldn't be coming out for a third encore, he was out of his seat, catching Deb's hand, and working his way past the other people in their row.
