stripped by who-knows-how-many sets of eyes that you can't see; you smile knowing that, in time, you will fulfill their every naked fantasy right here in this real time.

The very second that the dark begins to part, I walk across the back of the theatre towards the column and lean against it. I begin to do some eyeing myself, to see the size of the crowd, and to intuit its sexual potential. This is a cool place, the ratio of men present to men hungry is pretty equal. In tonight's case I eye seven men. I only disregard two of them, both seated towards the front of the middle section, the sexual no-man's-land. There's a fellow way down front on the side row clear across the theatre, but his glance remains fixed towards this back corner where I've positioned myself. He might not play, I muse, but he'll get naked and do something before he leaves. There's a guy directly in front of me, sitting on the back row of the middle section in the second from the end seat. Oh, I almost missed the man slouched in his seat halfway down the side row in front of me. Another one bites the potential dust. Finally there are two men on the end of their respective row on the sides; one is on the prized back row, the one that is hidden by this funky column, the other is directly in front of him. They are both turned to take me in; they both have their cocks out, one jutting from his jeans, the other, his sweats pushed down to the floor around his ankles.

Hot damned: clear sailing, get to fucking sex-work man … now, I think! Even though I didn't put on a shirt at the house, I did have my motorcycle black leather jacket in the truck cab, so I yanked it on over my running shorts. (It would not be hard to figure out what this dude had on his mind if you ran into him in public in this outfit.) I chucked the jacket and threw it over one of the seatbacks on the row of seats in front of me, the guy a few seats down rustled in his seat but didn't leave. I smiled as I imaged myself, my pale Irish skin virtually glowing, my cock growing, and my joie de vivre rising all at the same time. In an exaggerated motion, I lifted a bottle of poppers to my nose for a slow, long hit -- I wanted to make sure all the guys close by knew I had them, I like to share. As the effects of the nasal drug kicked in, I hooked a finger on the elastic waistband of my shorts and yanked them down and off in one fluid motion, my cock bouncing in front of me and on display. I wadded the shorts up and stuck them in a pocket of my leather jacket, then leaned back against the wall and crossed my feet at my ankles, causing my cock to jut out in front of me in an exaggerated way. I just stood there and took in the scene, watched each fellow one by one for his visual reaction, and generally just got horned up for the night. Pre cum oozed from my piss slit so I ran an index finger through it and lapped up the sweet sex juice, savoring it on my tongue, in my mouth.

The darkness that had just moments before seemed impenetrable had lifted to become a