Rainbow Shorts (Book Two)

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“Rainbow Shorts Book Two” is an odyssey of gay erotic romance. Enjoy!

Barbra Streisand’s version of Enough is Enough blasted from the Saturday night nonstop oldies radio station I had turned on for my cocktail party, but the guests were all silent in awe of what had just transpired. Completely soaked in an ice cold cocktail, Teddy stood almost helpless as he stared at the door his lover had just slammed as a final exit performance. “Ya know, sometimes I hate that dizzy bitch,” Teddy said to me. “Can’t hold his booze, causes a fight and then storms out, leaving me stranded at somebody’s house. Third time this has happened since we started dating just over a month ago.”

“It’s okay,” I said. “Let me get you a towel.”

“All this because someone asked me to dance and I accepted and then got aroused. I don’t even know the guy, but he’s a hot dancer. I came with Gregory and planned to leave with him. Hell man, we’re only dating. It’s not like I swore he was the love of my life. I’m sorry. I really don’t even know you except as the host of this party. Let me call a cab and I’ll be out of here.”

“Not soaked like that,” I said. “It’s friggin’ cold out there. Let’s get you into something dry for right now. If you want, we can toss your stuff in the dryer.”

“Thanks.”

I led Teddy upstairs to my bedroom and rummaged through my dresser drawers for a set of dark blue sweats for him to change into while he stripped off his soaking shirt and pants. I turned to see him getting ready to peel off his wet white jockey shorts, and he was hot! The bad boy in me was in a quick battle with the host in me.

“Wow!” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it. The naughty side of me was winning.

“Yeah, big endowments run in my family. I think that’s the only part of me Gregory really wants to know. Do you have any idea how many times in the last three weeks our dates have been ‘C’mon over and we’ll have a pizza and watch a movie?’ Except he’d never order a pizza and it was always a sex flick he had. The minute I became a little aroused, he would be all over me. Then he’d say something about having to get up early for work the next morning, asking if I wanted to sleep over. He’s good, but I need more than sexual satisfaction. And then these scenes at the few parties he’s brought me to – I think it’s to show me off as a trophy to his friends.
He grabbed the towel the host in me had handed him and dried off a firm chest and stomach. “You really like what I got?”

“Hell yes,” said the bad boy in me, but the host followed up with “but this is not the time or place. Just change and come on back downstairs and relax. Have a good time.” I tossed him the dark blue sweat pants and a grey top and returned to my hosting duties downstairs.

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