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"Are you fucking crazy, Lex?! They'll tear you apart! And I'm not talking about your asshole."

Ah, Eliza. You couldn't ask for a more trustworthy, more reliable, more considerate fag hag. Unless she was stressed from pulling extra shifts, or someone new had caught her eye.

"Very funny," I replied sarcastically. Although it did give me an interesting idea for jack-off material later....

"I'm serious! Remember last year when they shoved you in the pool? Your cell phone and laptop were ruined! Or how about when the goalie--"

"No one on the Barracudas has ever hit me. Not hard, anyway."

"You're an idiot! You were in public. What do you think they'll do if they get you alone?"

"Hopefully they act out this little fantasy you've inspired."

Eliza was speechless on the other line for a few seconds, but I could sense her frustration igniting through the receiver. Finally she responded:

"You stupid suicidal nympho! They're going to murder you! Don't you get it? You're going to wake up in a body cast or the ER--and I am not tagging along with you on this. You have a death wish? Fine! But don't you dare ask me to be there to watch it happen."

"That's all right. You never come to any of the games anyway."

She huffed sourly. "I've never seen Alistair, but I could describe him in detail from your obsessing over him. Why would I want to sit there and be exposed to even more of your prattling?"

"Wow, you're a bitch."

"Yeah, I am. And I've saved you from yourself more than once."

I rolled my eyes and made a nasty face she couldn't see... but she was right.

"I know what you're trying to say, Eliza. And I know you mean well. Sometimes it seems like you're the only person in the world I can count on. Believe me, I don't want to get hurt any more than you do."

"Good. So you're not going to meet them."

"Nowhere I'd be at their mercy."

"Lex!" she cried, her voice full of admonishment.

"I said I'll be careful." She must have known there was no winning this argument.

"Ugh, fine. Make sure you stay in public places, all right? I know you're hung on Alistair's junk like a Prince Albert, but don't forget: You've had two short conversations with the guy. You have no idea what he's really like."

"Yeah, I know. Look, I've gotta go. Thanks for listening. Love you, girl."

"Love you too, skank."

"You know it!" We both chuckled as we hung up.

Of course, I didn't tell her that I'd already received my social invitation from him. Or that I was joining them tonight. After meeting Alistair at his house.

I apologized to Eliza in my mind as I continued getting ready. The pony had her heart in the right place, but Alistair Wellesby approached me (for the second time in my lucky life) and asked me to stop by. What did she think I was going to say? It's Alistair Wet-Dream Walking-Masterpiece Otter-God-of-Hotness Wellesby. The moment he handed me his address, it was a done deal. They could jump me and kick my teeth out. They could rip off my arms and beat me with them. I was going to be in Alistair Wellesby's house. And I might even get to touch him again.

I decided to wear a black button-down T-shirt that hugged my torso--its collar and fringes were a dark mustard color, and it played off my spots and eyes nicely--paired with distressed skinny jeans that made my butt look phenomenal. I grabbed my black sneakers with the yellow-brown laces I bought just to go with the top. Oh, and to mark the occasion, I went with a jockstrap for underwear. So what if they don't wear athletic supporters in water polo? I was going to be hanging out with a sports team, and that's all the excuse I needed. I put on my golden wristwatch and a fine black collar with my name inscribed on its bone-shaped charm. It wasn't very big, but if any of Alistair's friends were secretly gay or curious, it was sure to get their attention. The look advertized my homosexuality without being too in-your-face about it, I thought. I gave myself a couple sprays of cologne that smelled of ginger, musk, and jasmine and checked myself out in the mirror. Not too shabby. I could walk into Alistair's house confidently looking like this.

Just thinking about seeing Alistair tonight, being alone with him, at his house and during the ride to the pizzeria, had me hard again. I could feel my boner pressing against the jockstrap, compelling me to look at my watch. I still had forty-five minutes before I needed to leave. Plenty of time for a quick wank, I thought. Besides, tonight there won't be any chlorine gumming up his nose. I should get as much of this sexual energy out while I still can. I methodically removed my clothing--can't get any cum on them, after all--and imagined my hands were Alistair's. He, er, I took my time with the jockstrap, rolling my balls in my hands and playing with my hole before taking them off. As I slid them down around my ankles, a sticky line of pre was drawn out of my cock that snapped and left a small spot on the fabric. Oh, well... a little pre-cum couldn't hurt anyone, especially underneath my jeans. He already knew I wanted him anyway.

I eased myself onto the bed and grabbed the lube and my favorite toy, the one I mentioned earlier. I took my yearning erection into my left hand and began stroking as my right plunged the tip of the spasm-inducing vibrator in my hole.

"Yes, Alistair... yes... oh God, please...!" I put the speed setting on high; I didn't have that much time to fuck around. I imagined Alistair coming back for seconds and thirds and fourths as his polo buddies took turns spurting their seed into my hungry depths, until I came all over my belly and the sheets. It was a great way to start the night.

I finished in time to rinse off in the sink like a makeshift bidet, dab dry the sweat from my brow, and get my outfit put back together as well as before. As I slid on the jockstrap again, I smiled to myself in dirty satisfaction.

It was a twenty minute drive to Alistair's place, and the time between seemed to stretch on forever. Listening to music didn't seem to help, so I drove most of the way in silence, alone with my thoughts and anticipation. He lived in Eagle Oaks, perhaps the most exclusive neighborhood in a town full of old money and yuppie millionaires. Well, well--so which one was he? His house was at the end of a road on a slight hill that made it visible above the tops of the trees, and as I approached, I gasped at its splendor. If Robin Leach fucked the style out of an English castle, the resulting baby might look like this. It was a three-story manse with a garden and fountains and topiary, done in grey stone and black shingles. Blue ivy crept up along two sides of the villa, seemingly manicured to accentuate the home's beauty, and floor-length windows had their view inward blocked by heavy, embellished curtains.

Fucking hell, Alistair... so you're impossibly attractive AND disgustingly rich? Did God owe you some favors or something? I walked past his fiery orange sports car with the custom "ALSTAIR" plates, underneath the stone columned awning, towards the sienna double doors with gold-plated panes along the sides.

Eliza's warnings were playing over and over in my mind. What possible reason would someone with all of this success have to want anything to do with me? Even if he's being nice to me out of pity, even if it's all part of some elaborate joke he's about to pull off, someone like this doesn't even breathe the same air I do. What the fuck was he thinking? I was standing on Mount Olympus, about to ring Zeus's doorbell. I come from some money, and I'm not hard to look at when I get dolled up, but I wasn't fit to be his cup-bearer. I mean, let's be real. I wasn't even fit to be his toilet scrubber. I began to have serious doubts about why I was even there, nervously fingering the keychain in my pocket, wondering if I should just drive home. If he asks later, I thought, I'll tell him I was sick. It wouldn't be far from the truth. If there were any more knots in my stomach, my digestive tract would have looked like a crazy straw.

But I was already there. I couldn't back down, not when I was literally feet from the entrance to my dreams. I had to do it, had to face him, had to take this chance and ride it for everything it's worth... because I'd probably never get it again, and I'd regret it the rest of my life. I took a long, deep breath, summoned up every ounce of my floundering fortitude, and rang the bell.

Nothing.

I looked at the intercom positioned off to the right of the doorbell and listened for any sign of activity. The video screen above it remained cold and black.

Maybe he forgot. Maybe he wasn't home yet. He could have still been getting ready for the night. Do jocks have a going-out routine? Alistair probably did. He wasn't one of those hairy ogres that constantly wafted dried B.O. Should I have just waited for him? I gave it one more ring...

Still nothing.

Was this the whole point all along? Was all of this just so I could drive out to the middle of nowhere and stand on his porch, making a fool of myself? How did I even know this was his house? I mean, yeah, there was the car. There can't be that many Alistairs in the world. But he could have been hiding somewhere with a camcorder; there were plenty of bushes around...

Suddenly I heard the doors being unlocked on the other side. I snapped to attention and put on my friendliest smile, trying for all the world not to look like the nervous wreck I was. I prayed to all the gods that ever were or ever will be to help me not fuck this up.

The doors swung open, and there stood my crush to end all crushes, my Alistair, dressed to kill and radiating beauty like a sun made of diamond crystal.

"'Ey there, Lex." I locked my knees to keep from swooning. "Come on in."