me, I could not articulate it. When I did ask what the other guy was talking with him about, he smiled knowingly and said, “Nothing other than small talk. He is here for the coaches clinic as well, that’s all.”

We cleaned up and stopped at the hotel bar for a beer, before heading out for dinner. The bartender was a college kid who did not even question me for an ID, and I was pleased for that. I really liked having a beer with my Coach. Before the first sip, however, we were joined at the bar by the handsome dude that had been eyeing us up in the health club. He was actually a very nice guy, also a coach as it turned out, very conversational and likeable. He was extremely good looking, older than Coach, handsome, and his tight shirt showed off a molded chest and sexy hair that tumbled out and over the neck of his shirt. His muscularity had been disguised in his workout sweat clothes. He was physically attractive to me and I liked him. We had a couple beers with him. Then he came up behind us, put his head between our heads and arms around our shoulders, and said in a whisper-tone, quite conspiratorially, “Are you guys straight?”

I was caught off guard, and said nothing. Coach smiled a broad smile and said we were “Versatile” and asked why he had such a question? He smiled back and said that he was going to invite us to have drinks in his room, but if we were both straight, it probably would not be as much fun. He wrote his room number on a napkin, leaving us with a comment that he hoped to see us in his room in a few minutes.

I was slightly panicked and that was obvious, I suppose. I looked at Coach; he looked at me. Long silence. Finally, he said, “Well, whaddya think?” But I was almost too numb to think. I was mixed with the desire to want to broaden my experiences, intrigued with the mystery of what might be available in his room, and protective of my time with Coach. I looked deep into his eyes to see if I had any hint of his feelings and inclinations. “Your decision,” he finally said, “totally yours; you are in control.”

That did it. I picked up the napkin and said, “OK, let’s go.” He literally growled, “Aaaawwright! You are one fucking fantastic stud! I just may let you fuck me later tonight.” I was already counting on that.

If you want to know what happened, let me know at nedncster@gmail.com