My Big Fat Gay Life (47 page)

“I haven’t seen you for ages,” I told Rory. “Or Sebastian for that matter. Where have you been hiding?”

“I’ve been staying with a friend,” he answered. “Sebastian and I had a bit of a falling out.”

“That’s terrible! What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” he replied. “I have to tell you something.”

“Sounds serious,” I said, placing on my coffee on the coffee table. “What’s up?”

Rory opened his mouth to talk, but nothing came out. He stopped bouncing Kyra, and I noticed his cheeks were flushed. As I watched, the redness spread down over his throat and reached down beneath his shirt.

“I don’t know where to start,” he eventually said. “It’s embarrassing, shameful.”

He fell silent, so I took Kyra from his shaking hands and placed her in her cot. He picked up his coffee and cupped it in both hands. He had me concerned: I’d never seen him like this.

“What is it?” I asked him. “Did you get someone pregnant? Did you join the BNP? What is it?”

“I…” he started, the redness of his skin flaring even higher. “I…”

“You’re scaring me,” I said. “Whatever it is, we’ll get through it! It’s not like you killed someone, or joined the Westboro Baptist Church. Oh my God! Did you join the Westboro Church? Please tell me you didn’t. I’d prefer that you’d killed someone.”

He laughed, and the tension edged away slightly. “It’s nothing like that,” he said. “I think I might be gay.”

Due to the serious look on his face and the shame in his eyes, I tried to stifle my laughter. After a few seconds of trying, my face turned purple and I felt like I was choking. Suddenly I let loose a bellow of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he asked.

“I’m sorry,” I replied, still laughing. “I don’t mean to laugh. I can see how seriously you’re taking this.”

“Why is it so funny? I feel ashamed; totally disgusted with myself.” He sulked, poking his bottom lip out ever so slightly.

I took the coffee cup out of his hands and placed it next to mine, and then I gripped his hands tightly, trying to be reassuring.

“You always took that religious crap so seriously,” I stated. “Don’t let Dad’s beliefs ruin your life. There’s nothing wrong with religion, but you have to tailor your belief system to suit your own life.”

“I’m gay,” he said simply. “I’m going to hell.”

“If that’s true, at least you’ll have plenty of hot men there to keep you company.”

“Please don’t joke about it,” Rory said.

“I’m sorry,” I responded, squeezing his hands to show my sincerity. “I don’t mean to make light of it, but it just seems like such a non-issue to me. Sebastian, my best friend, is gay. My husband likes to be buggered with a large dildo. Sebastian’s parents are both bisexual swingers. Sometimes I feel like the only truly heterosexual person I know. Even our Mother is a born-again rugmuncher!”

“Please don’t mention Mum,” he groaned, rolling his eyes. “I can’t handle the thought of telling her.”

“She’ll be fine,” I said. “She likes to lick other women’s clits, for God’s sake.”

In the space of a few seconds, all of the colour drained from Rory’s face.

“Too much?” I asked him. “Too graphic?”

He just nodded.

“In a nutshell, Bro,” I said. “Nobody has an issue with it except you. You’ve worked yourself up into this state for no reason at all. Just accept who you are, and be happy.”

Rory extracted his hands from my grip and reached for his coffee.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” I asked him.

“Sort of,” he replied. “I’m not sure. I like him, but I’m totally obsessed with someone else.”

“Oh,” I said, a little confused. “And is this what you and Sebastian had a falling out over? I can’t imagine Sebastian giving you a hard time for being gay and kicking you out.”

“He didn’t exactly kick me out,” Rory stated. “I just haven’t been back to the apartment since we… had an encounter. It’s way too embarrassing to face him.”

Now I actually was shocked. “You and Sebastian fucked?”

“Yeah,” Rory replied. “He was my first. I was obsessed with him, and I hated myself for lusting after him.”

“So what happened?” I asked, picking up my coffee in my own trembling hands.

“I thought if I went to the sex club and faced my demons with some anonymous guy, that I’d get over Sebastian. I thought that once I succumbed to my true nature, I’d realise I was obsessed with him merely because he was there, convenient but forbidden fruit. So I went to the sex club, found a nice looking ummm… penis… sticking out of a gloryhole, and I used it. After I was done, I felt so dirty and ashamed that I just sank to the floor. When the guy belonging to the penis came out from behind the partition, it was Sebastian!”

“Good grief!” I exclaimed. “What did he say?”

“Nothing,” Rory responded. “I fled before he could say anything. I haven’t seen him since.”

“Where have you been staying?” I asked him.

“At a friend’s place, Mark. He actually works at Ruby Slippers with Justin. Well, not with Justin on the podiums. He performs in drag, and he’s really good!”

“And you’re just friends?”

“I don’t know. I like him; I really like him. We sleep in the same bed, and we make love. I’m just so confused.”

I gathered Rory into my arms and hugged him, making the same reassuring sounds I make for Kyra when she’s crying.

* * *

“Hey Honey,” Justin called out as he walked in the door. The few clothes he was wearing melted off him instantly.

“Sshhhhhhh,” I said as I walked over and kissed him, putting a finger to my lips. “Kyra’s asleep.”

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“You don’t have to whisper,” I laughed. “It does her good to be exposed to all the normal sights and sounds, even when she’s sleeping. She just doesn’t need to be exposed to your huge booming voice.”

“I can’t help it!” he exclaimed. “I’m home, and my two favourite girls are here. It’s so exciting!”

“Have you forgotten why I had you come home at this hour?” I asked him, leading him to the sofa and sitting down.

“No, I haven’t forgotten,” he said with a cheeky grin. “You’re off for your therapy appointment with Patricia at Rainbow’s End, and I get to look after my baby girl. I hope she wakes up soon!”

“Don’t you be waking her up deliberately!” I admonished him, a mock stern look on my face.

“I won’t,” he reassured me. “How’s your day been?”

“Interesting,” I replied. “Rory told me that he’s gay.”

“Well duh!” Justin said. “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean ‘well duh’?” I asked him.

“It was pretty obvious,” Justin answered. “He can’t keep his eyes off my cock whenever he sees me naked. That’s not unusual for straight guys; they often check it out. But when he looks at it, it’s not the usual expression of envy or curiosity that I see in the eyes of straight guys; it’s pure lust.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“What’s the big deal?” Justin asked. “Besides, I thought you knew. I thought everyone knew.”

“Well Sebastian didn’t know, and Rory was secretly lusting after him the whole time he was there. Do you want to know how Sebastian found out?”

“Sure,” Justin nodded.

“He fucked Rory through a gloryhole at the sauna, with no idea who he was sticking his dick into. When he came out from behind the partition, he realised it was Rory.”

Justin laughed, watching me as I stood to prepare for my visit to Rainbow’s End. I shucked off my sweatshirt and put on my blouse, noticing that Justin’s attention was riveted on my perky, milk-engorged breasts.

“It’s nice to see that I’m still appreciated for something other than my prowess with a strap-on dildo,” I told him, nodding at his prominent erection.

“Of course you are!” he replied. “If you didn’t have to leave, those norks would be being mauled right about now.”

“Oh!” I exclaimed, pointing at his hard cock. “That reminds me. Do you remember the penis-shaped door handles that Patricia had installed on the doors to Donovan’s room when he first came home from hospital?” Justin nodded. “I actually took notice of them the last time I was there, a few weeks ago. They look familiar.”

“They should,” Justin said. “Patricia bought them from my friend, Mary, who used me as a model. They don’t know who the model is, of course.”

“Oh no!” I gasped. “Imagine how Donovan and Patricia would react if they knew that every time they opened the door, they were grabbing your hard-on!”

Justin laughed again, loudly. Loud enough to wake Kyra, who started to cry.

“You go,” he said. “I’ll play with my little girl, and when you get back I need to go to Rainbow’s End too. Patricia wants to see me for some reason.”

“What’ve you got planned for today?” I asked, turning my head to look at Rory. We were both panting and covered in sweat, the result of an amazing morning fuck. He might be a beginner, but he was talented! During the three weeks he’d been staying with me, I’d grown quite fond of him.

“I think it’s time I tell Ruth about me,” he answered.

“Tell her what?” I raised myself up on my elbow and looked at him.

“That I’m… you know…” he said falteringly.

“Yeah I know,” I said tolerantly, “and I’m covered in your cum to prove it. But you need to be able to say it: say it out loud and unashamedly.”

“OK,” he responded, tentatively. “I’m gay.”

“There you go!” I exclaimed. “Was that so painful?”

Without saying a word, Rory jumped out of bed and headed for the shower. I admired his arse as it disappeared into the bathroom.

* * *

That night as I spent two hours transforming myself into Drag Queen Lizzie in preparation for my stage sets, I pondered my feelings for Rory. He was a mixed bag of contradictions and inconsistencies, yet somehow he’d managed to keep me interested beyond two fucks, the point where I usually lose interest in a guy.

I hoped Rory would come and watch the shows tonight, but he tended to avoid Ruby Slippers on Fridays. He was terrified that his brother-in-law, Justin, would see him there: the brother-in-law that danced naked on the podium; the brother-in-law who was the hottest man I’d ever seen in my life.

I looked forward to Justin’s podium time, and always contributed large amounts of tips into his cowboy boots. Once, I’d even managed to quickly grasp his cock. When he’d glared at me his fans had manhandled me, still in full drag, away from him for fear that I’d piss him off and he’d finish dancing for the night. Cock touching was a big no-no with him. Initially I was angry that the fans, the same guys who’d been applauding me on stage half an hour earlier, had treated me like that, but after standing back and appreciating Justin’s moves, body, and cock, I could understand why.

The first two sets went extremely well. It was a good crowd tonight: appreciative and good-humoured. Rory hadn’t come, but I wasn’t disappointed; I hadn’t expected him to come. I wondered how his chat with his sister had gone.

I still had one set remaining, so I couldn’t transform back into cumslut Mark and head into the toilets just yet. As I sat at the bar, sipping on some pink concoction with an umbrella in it and enjoying the view of Justin on his podium, an elderly gentleman approached me.

“Hi Lizzie,” he said, his voice so soft I could barely hear him over the music. “Do you have a moment?”

In true Lizzie style, I took my time giving him the once over, my face full of disdain. He looked familiar, but that meant nothing. He was pleasant enough to look at, and his face looked kind and gentle. “Just one moment,” I replied, dismissively.

“You look like you have a great physique tucked away under that costume,” he said. I gasped, theatrically.

“You dare call this a ‘costume’?” I exclaimed. “It takes hours to look like this, you ungrateful old bastard.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly as I made to walk away. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“We’ll get along fine,” I told him dramatically, “as long as you remember that when I’m made up like this, I’m a lady and expect to be treated as one.”

“Would the lady care for another drink?” he asked, smiling pleasantly.

“That would be delightful,” I replied, seating myself back on the barstool.

“I have a proposal for you,” he said after he’d ordered another drink for me. “I imagine you don’t earn a lot of money here, and that you do it as a labour of love.” I nodded. “I’m looking for someone to help me out around the home,” he continued. “Someone to cook, clean, and basically run the household for me. It’d be a few hours a day, a few days a week, and I’d prefer you were nude.”

A girl’s gotta eat, right? A steady part-time job would help out, drastically. We negotiated rates, duties, and hours, and in short time we had an agreement for me to start next Friday. The gentleman handed me his card and left.

Something didn’t feel quite right, however. A tiny little alarm was ringing at the back of my mind; an alarm that reinforced the feeling I’d had earlier that I’d seen this gentleman before. I looked at his business card, and it came to me.