This week’s Microfantasy Monday theme is ‘Contest‘.Â Thanks as always to Miss Ang, the Sweltering Celt, for giving us the prompt and continuing our Microfantasy Monday fun.
I got out of my truck and wiped damp palms against my jeans. Â I was nervous and my bravado was beginning to wear off. Â I walked toward the entrance of the club only to duck into the alcove of a store just before reaching my goal. Â “Breathe” Â I thought to myself, “Get it under control.”
I thought about my friend, Jay, and how much shit he’d be giving me at this moment and felt myself grow hot withÂ embarrassment. Â “Ok, that’s not the right inspiration.” Â I needed to get into that bar, win the point, win the contest. Â I knew how many points Jay had, and I knew the challenges left on his list were not ones he was going to attempt. Â In fact, he seemed happy with the apparent tie, so happy that he was at home right now, on the last night of our sexual scavenger hunt contest.
But not me, I wanted to win this thing, win bragging rights as more of a sexual deviant than my friend. Â So I straightened myself up and checked my reflection in the darkened display glass. Â Tight jeans, check. Â Leather vest over tight t-shirt, check. Â Borrowed binder under t-shirt so I would blend better with the natives. Â I glanced down, reached in and adjusted my cock so the outline was a bit more obvious, then squinted at my mustache and stubble, darkened a little for the occasion. Â Then I swung around so I could see my back pocket, right side. Â The baby blue hankerchief was tucked and smoothed, with just the corner showing, folded down over the pocket with precision.
I could win the point with just a proposition from one of the men inside the bar next door. Â However, if I could go through with it, “do the deed”, I’d have pervert bragging rights over Jay for years to come. Taking a deep breath, I set my shoulders and turned on my heel. Â The bright lights of Lumber Jack’s beckoned, and men of all ages, sizes and fetishes gathered within and along the sidewalk leading to it.
I took a deep breath and did my best swish through the gauntlet of cruising eyes and into the club, intent on the bar and a shot or two of liquid courage from a tequila jug.
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