Here, Put This On!

Lefty’s Bar, 1980. I see a cute dark-haired guy, a bit shorter then me with a nice build. Our eyes meet and the next thing I know we’re in his apartment. Just as we were getting to it I hear him say to me, “here, put this on.”

It was a bathing suit, a red Speedo if I remember correctly. I was nothing if not accommodating in the 80’s so I put it on. In quick succession he had me doing costume changes into a variety of bathing suits, board shorts, and briefs. I started to figure out that he had a fetish.

In those days I didn’t know that I could just walk out so I did more costume changes until he had seen enough to cum. "That was weird," I thought to myself as I left.

About a year later I was in Lefty’s and met this hot man. A little shorter than me, olive skin, short beard, and a black cowboy hat. I was in a Bat Masterson kind of mood and soon after we were back at his apartment.

It was kind of a weird set-up. Two bunk beds built out of 2 x 4’s and plywood. Lot’s of clothes on racks all over the place. He had the bottom bunk and someone (his roommate?) was in the top bunk already asleep.

We climbed into the bottom bunk and started making out. Suddenly, he thrust a bathing suit at me, “here, put this on.” Oh my god! I didn’t recognize him at the bar, but I figured: I’m here. I know the drill.

Only he had gotten weirder with the passage of time. And unfortunately I still hadn’t learned I could just walk away. He finally got off after wrapping my crotch in about three yards of shrink wrap (kind of ironic for pre-AIDS Ft. Lauderdale).

Moral of the story: If you can’t recognize a trick after one year’s absence, it’s time to get a steady boyfriend.