The Forgotten Story

Midnight Lemon

"Midnight Lemon

Maybe it was the heat of that summer that got me all hot and bothered. Maybe it was boredom in the still air of my new apartment. Then again, maybe it was because of something hidden deep inside of me that yearned for an afternoon of uncontrollable sensation. Whatever it was that got me there, I found myself alone in a bar for the very first time.
It was just after 3pm on a smoky Wednesday in July when I ordered a midnight lemon- which, in case you haven't heard, is a dash of lemon, a splash of blackberry, and all types of vodka that would send a boy from heaven to hell and all the way back up again. The bartender crushed the ice with a compress, showing his rippling muscles. He was dead sexy. Mid-thirties, naturally muscular, a tattoo sleeve on each of his beefy arms. What I thought made him utterly irresistible was the black bandana that curved over the top of his head. It trapped in most of the sweat that glistened his brow.
"Another midnight lemon?" he asked me with his wicked smile. I wanted to run my hands through his hair, just to see the sexy look on his face as I did it." Yes, please," I replied. I was very sweet sounding in my tone, but what I actually meant was yes, please fuck me over this counter top! I had all of these wild thoughts running through my head, but at twenty-three and about a hundred and forty pounds, I was usually too small for guys like this. Guys like him typically called me twink, though I never really considered myself one. A twink to me was a little slutty boy at a bar trying to get attention. Then it dawned on me that it was exactly what I was doing. Still, labels seemed so limiting and I wasn't about to subscribe to something that would keep me pinned down like that." I gazed over the bartender as he wiped down the counter. Maybe he does like guys like me, I thought. Still, he only seemed to smile at me when I ordered. This would usually be expected of a busy bartender except for the fact that hardly anyone else was there with us. So what was I doing there?
It all started when I had taken the week off from work. For anyone who has worked retail before, they know that it's nowhere near as glamorous as the clothes are. Plus, I always felt a bit out of my element since I started working there shortly after moving to the city of Western Coast in February. The customers were usually cool, but the money wasn't very good. So as soon as I "had a chance to use my paid time off, I did. However, none of my friends were off during the week and I was already fresh from going to the beach that morning. When I discovered how hot my new apartment was in the summer, I decided to take a stroll and somehow ended up inside this place. I was still wearing a tank top and board shorts after coming from the beach, but the bouncer at the door said there really was no dress code. Where I come from, this would never have been allowed.
The decorations were the same over the years. It was a pseudo-western themed bar with cowboy hats, but they were playing electronic dance music instead of country "After an hour alone at the bar, I whipped out my phone to check my messages. Nothing was received, so I decided to message my best friend Jonathan to meet me at the bar.
What are you doing? I sent. I waited a few minutes. No reply.
Really, it would not have worked out the same if Jonathan came by, likely foiling my plans for a hook up. I wanted to stick to my original plan, which was to get messy here and go home with someone. Looking around the bar again, I saw that I had picked the wrong time of day.
After a third midnight lemon, the day was extremely hazy to me. Usually, I was proud of how well I could hold my liquor, but these drinks didn't mess around. I paid" "my tab and the bartender winked at me.
"Thanks, sweetie," he said.
"You're straight, aren't you?" I asked with my new, slightly drunken courage.
"Yup," he smiled.
"I knew it!" I laughed. The straight ones always called me cute names. "I've never had a straight guy try to get me so drunk."
"You're not driving are you?" he asked.
"Nope, I just moved down the street."
"Good," he said. "That'll mean you're coming back soon then."
"You know it," I replied.
"I'm Mark," he said holding out his hand. "I'm Justin," I said, shaking his hand. "Don't forget my face, Mark, so you can always make the drinks this good."
"I would never forget your face," he smiled.
"Does your girlfriend know you work here?" I asked, thinking I was being coy.
"Of course," he said.
"She's a lucky girl."
"I'm sure your boyfriend is a lucky boy."
"Very funny."
"What did I say?"
"I don't have a boyfriend."
I slapped the cash on the table and walked away from the counter. When I got out of the bar and into the sun, I felt like a slightly sobering. "moment had come. I slid my sunglasses off from my tank top and placed them over my eyes.
Reaching the door to my studio apartment, I opened it to feel a blast of heat hit me. How was my place hotter than outside? I asked myself. Walking in, I threw open the three windows and closed the blinds as tightly as possible. I switched on the ceiling fan, but it seemed to do little except stir the heat around.
It seemed dark when I was alone with the blinds shut. In the still of the summer afternoon, I remembered how horny I was. Really, I had only had sex with two guys in my entire life, if you only count penetration. If you count everything else, the number is six and a half. Half,""because we were both clothed but we had a very, very good time.
My first time having sex was with my first boyfriend, Matt, when we were both eighteen. He was all sorts of cute and we made love when he was house sitting for a family friend. Minutes after I got to the house, took off our clothes and I let him put himself inside of me. The first time wasn't very good, but I was in love. That was, until he broke my heart after finding out he was still sleeping with his ex our entire relationship.
The second time was with my friend, Lance. He's a few years older than me and very handsome, but we were always just friends. One night we were both drinking wine and" "started kissing. One thing led to another and we were on his bed, completely naked. That continued for about a month. I never quite knew what he really felt about me, but that was over a year ago and I haven't seen him much since.
Because of my lack of sexual experience, I would never deem myself as slutty. If, however, my thoughts counted against me, I might be the biggest slut in the city. Then again, so would every other guy.
Still, I, like most boys out there, like a little bit of attention from time to time. My friend Jonathan just calls me a tease because I never go home with anyone when we're out together. That bartender, I "would have gone home with, though. He was exactly one of my types. Then again, maybe I just thought that because I knew that he was uninterested... or because I was drunk.
I went to my phone and opened an app I kept in secret. It was a social media hub, just for guys. It told me where the next one was and what bars they checked into. Everyone had shirtless pictures on there. Everyone, that is, except me. I kept my profile blank in fear that someone I knew would catch me and think that I was sleeping around. Personally, I didn't find anything wrong with sleeping around; I just didn't do it myself." "Today was different though. There was an element in the air that was mixing with my emotions and it made me feel differently about myself. I searched through the photo album of my phone and found a picture of me at the beach from a week ago. Jonathan took it and said that I looked buff in it. Secretly, I liked the picture of myself, too. So I click on it and then uploaded it to my profile.
Upload Successful.
I started to get lightly flustered with anxiety. What did I just do?"

So what do u think like/comment plz