Claimed for Christmas

I strut into the club, my movements catching the attention of a few guys milling around the entrance as I pass. I look good tonight, I know it, I’ve got my new jeans on that hug my ass perfectly and a crisp white shirt rolled up too my elbows show off the muscular forearms I’ve developed since starting work at my current job. Yes, I said muscular forearms, do not underestimate the power of arm p.orn my friends, the girls and us gay guys like it, a lot! I shimmy my shoulders a little to the music as I make my way through the crowd, returning smiles to a few of the admiring glances I get, mentally noting those that are hot for later when I’m looking for a dance partner. Reaching the bar, I throw the bartender a warm smile, lifting my chin, as he heads toward me, leaning on the bar top, and runs his gaze up and down me with purpose. His name is Lance, and he’s worked at the Pink Flamingo for as long as I’ve been coming here. He’s an incorrigible flirt which is more likely to do with maximising tips than anything but, what can I say, I still like the attention. ‘What can I get you, hot stuff?’ he asks, winking as I laugh. ‘Rum and Coke over ice’ I reply, placing money on the bar as he nods, picking it up and grabbing a glass to start making my drink. Seconds later it’s in front of me, placed on a paper napkin with the club logo printed in the corner, Lance grinning as I wave away my change. ‘Give me a shout if you need a top up’ he tells me, ‘or if you feel a little lonely and you just want some company’ he adds, raking his gaze over my body one last time before heading to a large group at the other end of the bar. The group seems to be celebrating a bachelorette party going by the two women in the centre with bride to be sashes slung across their bodies, the rest wearing sashes declaring themselves the bride tribe as they order more drinks. I pick up my drink as I watch them, guestimating that it’s a sixty forty split gay to straight ratio. I lift my drink to my lips, about to take a sip when a sharp slap echoes across my ass before a very huge d**k presses into my back, grinding devilishly. ‘Hey sugar t**s, you want to ride this pony express?’ a gruff voice asks in my ear making me chuckle. ‘Thanks, but I’ve heard it’s nothing to write home about’ I reply, turning around to grin up at one of my closest friends, Red Mahone. ‘Excuse you?’ Red gasps, pressing a hand to his chest as he gapes at me in mock offense. ‘The Gods blessed this princess in many ways, and they made damn sure I know how to use it.’ He thrusts his hips at me as I shake my head in amusement, ‘come on man! When are you going to give in to what we both want?’ he adds taking a sip of the obnoxiously colourful cocktail in his hand. ‘You know you want to give this stallion a ride, I promise I’ll be gentle.’ I roll my eyes at his words, ones I’ve heard a million times before from the flirtatious asshole. ‘One, I’ve heard the stories, and no you wouldn’t be gentle at all, my poor asshole would be wrecked for all others who c*m after you’ I retort, pointing at him as he shrugs, smirking at my double entendre. ‘And two, I don’t f.uck my friends, it’s a personal rule of mine, f.ucking your friends only leads to drama after the c*m dries.’ Red grins, ‘I could call you a glitter panty wearing w.horefest c*m bucket so we turn into dagger glaring enemies who despise each other, then we could hate f.uck all night.’ I laugh, patting his arm, ‘oh honey, I could never despise you, even if you did call me a c*m w.hore, I love you, you are one of my favourite people.’ Red sighs dramatically, ‘denied again!’ he laments, ‘Damn me and my roguish charms, no one can hate me! That’s it, I’m distraught! I don’t know how I’m going to console myself after this harsh rejection on your part.’ I reach out, patting his arm, ‘you’re going to go and find a meek guy who likes to bottom and f.uck his brains out all night’ I reply. Red shrugs, taking another sip of his drink, ‘yeah, probably’ he agrees, ‘mystery guy in my future has no idea what is going to happen to him later but damn he’s going to enjoy it . . .’ He winks at me, grinning mischievously, ‘but just know, I’ll be thinking of your pink hole and how it would be stretched wide with my c.ock the whole time I’m plundering his ass, sugar tits.’ ‘You really are a romantic aren’t you’ I laugh, ‘such a way with words, I feel so special.’ Red lifts his drink to salute me before downing the last of it, ‘as you should my friend, I don’t say this s.hit to just anyone you know.’ As he speaks, his eyes dart to the edge of the dance floor, a knowing smirk appearing on his face. ‘What?’ I ask, knowing that smile, it means trouble. ‘Me thinks my straightdar is going off’ Red replies. ‘Oh? Where?’ I demand eagerly, looking over where he’s staring. ‘Blue shirt, chinos and a ridiculous pair of loafers that make me wonder if he got dressed in the dark tonight’ Red tells me, nodding toward his target who is circling the edge of the dance floor watching group of four lesbians who are dancing together. I spot who he’s talking about, my smile growing as we wait, expectantly. Now just a disclaimer here friends, we have no problem with the straights coming to our club, the more the merrier! Come on down, we’ll show you the time of your lives! BUT! What we do have a problem with is that some straight men come here on the prowl. They have this insane belief that our clubs are only for gay men and that all the women here are actually straight or are just confused about what they want. Lesbianism seems to have passed some people by completely, I don’t know how. So they think coming down here is like shooting fish in a barrel and they get all up in our girlfriends’ space, which annoys them intensely . . . Luckily, my friend Red has an uncanny knack of spotting them. The asshole in blue makes his move toward the women, brushing up against one dark haired girl who instantly moves away from him. He grabs her hips, grinding up against her back, smirking as she tries to wriggle away. Red’s empty glass hits the bar along with my own as I follow him through the crowd. ‘How do you want to play this?’ I ask over the music, ‘raunchy gay men? Aggressive dancer?’ Red glances at me grinning, ‘how about jealous ex?’ he suggests, ‘we haven’t done that one in a while. I nod, splitting away from him and circling around, reaching the group and tugging the brunette out of the way, taking his place and starting to dance provocatively. ‘Hey, I like your moves’ I purr, inching closer as he steps back, his face morphing from enjoyment to disgust. ‘Get the f.uck away from me’ he growls. ‘Don’t be like that’ I reply, pouting, ‘or do, maybe I like it a little rough, you’re a top right?’ I reach out to squeeze his bicep as he jumps back out of my reach. ‘Oh yeah, you are definitely a top, that’s good because I am the perfect bottom . . .’ I wink, turning around and backing up my ass toward his groin, twerking with everything I have. ‘I said get the f.uck away from me’ Mr blue shirt sneers grabbing my arm to shove me away. A hand lands on his shoulder as his fingers wrap around my bicep, Red’s booming voice carrying over the music. ‘Are you flirting with my boyfriend?’ he demands aggressively. ‘No, now get your hands off me you fa*g . . .’ Mr Blue shirt turns as he speaks, his words trailing away as his face turns white. Did I forget to mention that my cocktail drinking, princess of a friend is six foot five and teaches mixed martial arts. The guy has muscles on top of his muscles and right now, every inch of him is filling our straight friend’s vision.