“It’s just hot in here,” I said, going for calm and missing by a mile.
“We’re sitting right under a ceiling fan and an air conditioning vent,” Esteban said.
“How about that?” I said. “Be right back.”
And without another word, I rose from the table, the chair scraping loudly on the tile floor. I couldn’t bring myself to look in Darren’s direction, not sure I wanted to see the expression on his face. I didn’t know if he was pissed off that we’d been spying on his date (and since
when
was someone able to see through my amazing disguises?) or if it was something else.
I hoped it was something else.
The kitchen was loud and bustling off to the right, and I saw the door Darren had referred to. It had a flickering Exit sign above it. I glanced around quickly to make sure that no one was watching before I pushed my way out the door and into the cool fall sun.
I was in an alleyway that ran behind all the businesses on 4th Avenue. If I looked to the left hard enough, I could just make out the rear of Jack It, where Mike’s office sat. There was no one else out here and I shivered at the thought.
The door banged open.
“How did you know?” I demanded as soon as Darren walked out into the alley. “I am a
queen
for fuck’s sake, you shouldn’t be able to—”
He kissed me.
It took me a second to catch up with the proceedings, to realize that Darren had brought both his hands up to cup my face and pull me to him. His lips were moving over mine and I couldn’t help but kiss him back. He let out a low growl once he felt my tongue brushing against his, crowding me back against the building, grip tightening on my face to the point that it almost hurt. He used his foot to kick my feet apart, pressing his thigh up against me, allowing me to rest on his leg as he fucked my mouth with his tongue. My sunglasses were knocked off my face and onto the ground, but I couldn’t be bothered by it, given I had an armful of the Homo Jock King. His mouth left mine, and I gasped as he started trailing kisses along my jawline, grinding against me. It was
dirty
, and I felt
filthy
, wanting to drop to my knees and suck him off right here in the alley where anyone could see.
I had so many things I wanted to say to him (First of all
what
? And second,
WHAT
?), but since I was me, the first thing I managed to say also happened to be the most ridiculous. “You’re going to ruin my lipstick,” I managed to say as he nipped at my ear.
He snorted against my neck and pulled away slightly. “Too late for that.”
And it was, if his face was anything to go by, lips smeared with stripes of red, pupils blown out, and chest heaving with every breath he took, each exhalation warm on my face. He looked debauched, almost ruined, and I knew I probably looked worse.
“We’re making out,” I said as he leaned forward and kissed me again, biting my lower lip and tugging on it until I moaned.
“We are,” he said, hiking his thigh up against me even harder.
“Next to an industrial-sized trash bin,” I said, because I thought it should be known.
“Right,” he said, forehead against mine, hands rubbing against my hips, raising the skirt I wore just a
little
bit more.
“That smells of rotting Mexican food,” I said.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
“Consider me wooed.” I tilted my head back as he kissed down my neck. “How’s your date going?”
“Great,” he said, trying to pull the skirt up higher. “He never shuts up.”
“
I
never shut up,” I said, running my fingers through his hair.
“I like it when you never shut up.” Before I could even comprehend what was happening, he’d spun me around, my face against the brick. He grunted as he pressed up against me, breath hot on my neck. “I like all the noises you make,” he growled in my ear, and I couldn’t stop the strangled noise that fell from my lips even if I’d wanted to.
It was wrong, what we were doing. Not because it was with each other, but because of where we were doing it. Anyone could walk down the alley at any point. Someone from inside the restaurant could come outside for a smoke break. Our friends and his
brother
were sitting just inside, waiting for us to come back, not to mention the hipster twink who’d paid an exorbitant amount of money just to be here with Darren.
But I didn’t tell him to stop.
And that didn’t stop
him
from pushing up my skirt until my ass was exposed, the black lace panties I wore underneath stretching as he ran his big hands over it. He didn’t try to remove my underwear, but that didn’t stop him from pressing his face against me, his nose in the crack of my ass, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me until I arched against him. I felt the scrape of his teeth against my skin, the wet heat of his tongue as he pressed against the lace. I pressed my fist to my mouth as he spread my cheeks apart, trying to get at my asshole through the panties. I was tucked, so I couldn’t get hard, but the pressure in my dick was bordering on painful. And yet I wanted more.
He mouthed at my ass, fingers gripping tight enough that I was sure there’d be bruises there the next day. The thought of his marks on my skin should not have been as hot as it was. I tried to press against his face even harder, wanted the friction of the stubble on his chin to rub my skin raw. He felt my urgency and gripped me tighter, his tongue not quite breaching my asshole through the lace.
Someone laughed, startling us both. It was probably from the street on the other side of the restaurant, but it slowed us down. Even though I wanted nothing more than to have him strip me and fuck me right there (or maybe I could fuck him just to see what noises he’d make), I knew we couldn’t do this here. Even if I was desperate to find out just how far my newfound public sex kink really went.
He stood up behind me, skirt still raised as he pressed against me again. I could feel how hard he was through his jeans.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” he said in my ear. “You’re going to go back inside with the others. I’m going to go sit with Caleb. We’re both going to finish as quickly as we can. Then you’re going to go back to the Queen’s Lair and you will wait for me. I’m not fucking around on this, Sandy. Whatever the fuck you were thinking about Caleb and me is
wrong
. There was
never
anything between us and there never will be. Because now I’ve finally gotten a taste of you, and I am
never
letting you go.”
He tugged my skirt down gently, smoothing out the wrinkles. Once I was at least somewhat presentable again, I turned around, only to be faced with one of the most beautiful smiles I’d ever seen. He was full-on grinning at me, the remnants of my lipstick still upon his lips (the rest of it was probably on the ass of my underwear and I had to quickly banish
that
thought before we got started all over again). I brought my hand up and licked my thumb, his eyes tracking every movement. I brushed my thumb over his lips, wiping away the evidence. He popped my thumb into his mouth and
sucked
, cheeks hollowing and I bit back a groan because he looked so fucking good like that.
He let go of my thumb and brought his own hands up and started rubbing against my face, probably making it worse, but I couldn’t be bothered to tell him to stop. He leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to my lips, and knowing where his mouth had just been sent a nasty thrill through me.
“Presentable?” I asked.
“Just barely,” he said, handing me my sunglasses. He sounded rather pleased with himself at that, the asshole. “Keep those on and you’ll be fine.” He backed away from me slowly toward the door, eyes never leaving mine.
“How did you know?” I asked, suddenly curious. “That it was us. That it was me here?”
He smirked, that old familiar cocky thing that I both despised and adored. “I’ve been watching you for years,” he said, unbearably smug. “I would know you anywhere.”
He was through the door before I could say anything more.
“WHAT THE
hell took you so long?” Agnes asked as I sat back down at the table. My skin was buzzing and I hazarded a glance over at Darren, only to see him staring directly at me even as Caleb continued to talk. “I was about to send a fucking search party.”
“Sorry about that,” I said. “Unavoidably detained.”
“In the bathroom?” Slim Trim asked.
“Some things a lady never discusses,” I said primly.
“I’ve heard you fart,” Agnes said. “You’re not a lady, trust me.”
“Yes, well, be that as it may, I am here now and everything is fine.” I picked up my margarita and took an
I was pretty much just rimmed
drink of pure satisfaction.
But leave it to Esteban Raymundo Moreno to point out what the others had missed. “What happened to your lipstick?” he asked.
I choked on my margarita.
“What?” I managed to say, recovering with as much grace and dignity as one can when tequila is coming out one’s nose.
Esteban frowned. “You were wearing lipstick when you left. And now you don’t have any on.”
Agnes narrowed her eyes at me. “He’s right.”
“He could have just wiped it off when he went to the restroom,” Slim Trim said.
“Thank you, Slim—”
“Or,” Slim Trim said, “he could have gotten it
sucked
off his mouth!”
Agnes, Esteban, and Slim Trim all gasped dramatically.
“I did nothing of the sort!” I said.
“Then how do you explain that hickey on your neck?” Slim Trim asked.
“That mother
fucker
,” I hissed. “He couldn’t just leave it at rimming me in the alley through my underwear, he also had to mark me too? I’ll
kill
him.”
“He did what to your
where
!” Agnes shrieked, causing everyone in the restaurant to stop what they were doing and stare at us.
Darren, of course, still looked smug.
“I was just kidding about the hickey,” Slim Trim said faintly.
Esteban made the sign of the cross over his chest and raised his eyes skyward.
“There’s no hickey?” I demanded.
“None whatsoever,” Slim Trim said.
“Well played,” I said, suitably impressed. “That was almost drag queen levels of deviousness. Way to go, baby doll.”
“Thank you,” Slim Trim said. “Also,
you were fucking rimmed in the alley
?”
There comes a time in every gay man’s life where he’s asked if he got rimmed in an alley behind a Mexican restaurant. It’s almost a rite of passage. When faced with such an overwhelming question, the instinct is to lie about it and say no, of course not, I would never do such a thing. But it’s a trap, because the whole point of being asked that question is to allow for a moment of honesty, especially when your best friends are dressed as a colorful pimp, an elderly woman, and a Hispanic cowboy.
I owed it to them to be honest.
“Yes,” I said. “I was rimmed in the back alley next to a dumpster. And I liked it.”
“But,” Esteban whimpered, “that’s my
brother
.”
“Today has turned out to be a very eye-opening experience,” Slim Trim said.
“He licked your butthole where Esteban and I had our first
date
?” Agnes growled. “How the fuck am I ever supposed to come back here again with him and not think about you getting your fucking
ass
licked by the Homo Jock King?”
“Huh,” I said. “I didn’t even think of that.”
“I didn’t even think of that,” he mocked, high-pitched and bitchy. It was really rather remarkable, especially given the bouffant. “Here I’m going to be, trying to eat my carne asada burrito and be with my fiancé, and all I’ll be able to think is how Darren put his
tongue
in your butt!”
“Please stop saying that!” Esteban groaned.
“We’ve had some complaints,” Santiago said, sliding up to the table. “This is a family restaurant and you are infecting the
children
with your sexy words.”
“I will stab you in the uvula if you don’t walk away right this second,” Agnes snarled at him.
“Walking away,” Santiago squeaked and did just that.
“Agnes,” I said, reaching for his hand, “I’m sorry I ruined your date spot with public rimming.”
“You should be.” Agnes sniffed. “It’s really unfair. You could have been rimmed anywhere you chose.”
“I didn’t
ask
for it.”
“Yes he did!” Darren called over. “Just not with words.”
“I might have asked for it with my body. You know how my body is.” I frowned. “Wait, that didn’t sound right. Esteban, Agnes doesn’t know how my body is. Not in that way. I would never do anything with him like that. Only your brother.”
Esteban’s mustache drooped. “That didn’t help like you think it did.”
“Great!” I said, clapping my hands in front of my chest. “This has just been swell. Who’s hungry?”
I WAS
sitting at the vanity in the Lair, nervously trying not to check my phone as I waited. Paul, Vince, and Corey had already divested themselves of their alter egos and left me be. Paul had hugged me before he departed, whispering in my ear that he was happy for me and that I should allow myself to be happy too. He’d told me it was real, and that if needed, all I had to do was ask Darren and I’d see.
And I wanted to.
Very, very badly.
Because removed from the situation, that random fever-dream of Darren eating me out in public, those old familiar doubts tried to make themselves known. That Darren didn’t actually want me. That this whole thing was a game. That he was going to be cruel to me again. That he only wanted the Helena part of me and not the Sandy. Helena was brash and fun and loud and didn’t give two shits about anything. Sandy wasn’t like that, not really. There was a clear division between my normal life and my queen life. And the one time I’d tried to present my normal life without any animosity toward Darren, he’d lashed out with harsh words that had set us against each other for years.