Throw Me Something, Mister

I don’t even know how many drinks I’ve had.

Something fruity, something strong, something that came in a plastic cup shaped like a grenade, it’s all sloshing around inside me now. I’m sunburned and grinning like an idiot, stumbling down Bourbon Street in the warm night air with sweat slicking my back and beads piled around my neck like I won some fucked-up prize.

It’s my first Mardi Gras. I told myself I was just here for the spectacle. I told myself I’d come to get away and have a few laughs.

But here I am with my shirt off, hips loose, body warm and easy. And when the woman on the balcony hollers, “C’mon baby, show us something real,” I just laugh.

And I do it.

I unzip, drop my pants, and flash the street like I’ve got no shame left in me.

People cheer. Beads clatter down. One hits my shoulder, another wraps around my arm. The woman on the balcony tosses a gold strand right at me, her lips painted neon pink, her laugh rolling out over the crowd like smoke.

I don’t know what I expected, just a flash and a laugh and maybe a picture someone would regret in the morning.

But then I feel a presence close and someone kneeling.

I glance down.

There’s a man in front of me.

He looks up and then …

“Wait, hey!” I manage, but my voice vanishes beneath the music blasting from speakers behind me. There is laughter, drums …

and his mouth.

His mouth is on me, hot, wet, and sure of itself.

I freeze with one hand gripping the pole behind me like it’s the only solid thing in the world. I should stop him, say something, or, at least, pull back.

But my body’s not listening.

I’m drunk and aching and his tongue is slick against the head of my cock, and suddenly I’m hard as hell and not thinking straight.

This is insane. I’m not even into guys. Am I?

But then again, I’m also not the kind of guy who flashes his cock to strangers at 11 at night. And yet, here I am. My pants are around my ankles, a stranger’s mouth making me groan in front of a crowd that doesn’t even seem to notice.

I pant. My hips twitch forward on instinct. The pulse behind my eyes builds fast, too fast to stop, and then …

I cum, right there.

My whole body jerks forward. I gasp like someone punched the air out of me. My head falls back against the pole, my mouth hanging open, and I don’t even know what I sound like.

The guy wipes his mouth, smirks, and then disappears into the crowd.

He’s gone. No name or word was spoken. He just swallowed me whole and vanished.

I’m still standing there, cock half out, pants around my knees, when I remember the woman. I look up. She’s still there. She saw the whole thing. Hell, maybe she planned it.

She meets my eyes and smiles like she’s known me longer than I know myself.

Then she tosses the gold and gleaming beads, like a medal I didn’t know I was competing for.

I catch them with shaking fingers.

The cheers blur around me. Someone slaps my back and I laugh.

I laugh because I don’t know what else to do. Because I just got my cock sucked by a stranger in the middle of the crowd and liked it more than I should’ve.

I think I’m going to remember these beads for the rest of my life.