Natt Nightly is one of my favorite bloggers, a friend and fellow butch and a really great writer. Â This is how he imagines us meeting. Â Note: Â this is the only story entry that did not assume the writer would have sex with me. Â Kudos to Natt for not falling for the popular misconception that to meet me is to fuck me.
The day I met Kyle, it was rainingâ€¦ then again, is it ever not raining in Washington? (Except for when itâ€™s snowing, but thatâ€™s a different story.) Suffice to say, I was not totally thrilled to be the one in charge of procuring coffee at 9 am on this wet, dreary Saturday.
See, rain brings out the freaks. I understand that no one wants to get soaked, but the psychedelic mishmash of colors, patterns, fabrics and general chaos that passes for rain gear is even worse in a place where people have to wear it regularly. Neon pink ponchos, glaring flannel, and knock-off Burberry rain boots make perfect sense when the weather looks like shit. Whoâ€™s going to be looking anyway?
So I have to admit that when I ducked into the coffee shop and saw a rain-spattered, black cowboy hat perched at a rakish angle on some dykeâ€™s head, I didnâ€™t even blink.Â I just shrugged to myself and joined the line of bleary-eyed patrons waiting for their morning fix. I wouldnâ€™t have given him a second thought except that the line wound past his seat, and, wellâ€¦ Iâ€™m nosey. He was sitting in front of a small laptop staring intently staring at the screen, flipping through images and chuckling quietly to himself. As the line crawled past him, I peered over his shoulder, fascinated despite myself. What could possibly be so amusing this early in the morning?
What I saw made my jaw drop. Was he really browsing graphic, dirty pictures in the non-sanctity of the coffee house. I was impressed. My kind of perv! Granted, I couldnâ€™t totally see the screen, but even from my vantage point, the subject of the grainy and pixilated images seemed clear.
It was at that moment he leaned back to stretch and I got a better look at the image heâ€™d just clicked on. I was so caught off guard that I laughed out loud, which grabbed his attention and, with an inquisitive eyebrow raised, he looked up at me.
â€œCan I help you?â€
I flushed red and stammered, â€œUmâ€¦ no, not reallyâ€¦ sorry, Iâ€™mâ€¦ I meanâ€¦ is that vulva made out of LEGOS?â€
A wide grin spread across his face. â€œWhy yes, yes it is,â€ he pronounced. And then the smile went wicked. â€œYou should see their crocheted cock collection. Itâ€™s quite impressive.â€
That settled it. I needed to know this person.
â€œI can imagine it would be. Mind if I sit?â€ I asked, already halfway into the chair across from him. â€œIâ€™m Natt, by the way.â€
He inclined his head and touched the brim of his hat lightly. â€œPleased to meet you, Natt. Iâ€™m Kyle. And call me crazy, but I get the feeling you and I are going to be great friendsâ€¦â€
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