I remember his grunting along with my own before everything went black. Waking up I looked around and saw nothing out of place and figured it had all been a drunken dream. Dropping my legs to the floor I stood up and instantly knew it hadn’t been a dream at all and when I felt the hairs pulling on the back of my legs I knew it was from the dried cum the man had left on me. Going into the bathroom where I could use the full length mirror, I saw the white crusty dried semen that had my hair matted to my skin. Sitting on the toilet I opened my legs and watched as the man’s cum oozed out of my tender ass hole. Drawing a hot bath I soaked until the water got cold.The next few days were confusing to me, not knowing if I should feel defiled or excited about the whole thing. Several times I visited the gay bar but didn’t find my friend there. Thinking it was a lost cause I had given up on ever seeing him again when he walked up behind me at one of the straight bars I frequented.“Saw you come. Poor little Ruthie looks like she is about to faint on the spot. I can see that I wasn't imaging the wet spot. She either peed herself just now, or more likely, knowing how much she is attracted to Peter and fantasizes to me about him, creamed herself completely. I can’t keep my mind off of that image. Ruth excuses herself clumsily and darts into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. We hear it lock with a loud click. Inside, I think I hear a low and tremulous moan. Looking around, I wonder if anyone else heard her. There's an awkward silence for a moment, some throat clearing, then we all chuckle. "Fangirls," I want to say, but keep my mouth shut. The polite fiction is that Ruth is inside the bathroom freshening up and composing herself. I know the truth, and suspect I might not be alone in that knowledge.The moment has passed and the assemblage begins to say their goodbyes, as they have others to meet outside at the event and in an hour's time, the official kickoff.
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