As a newly hired internal audit manager I went to a branch office to witness inventory. The warehouse manager, I'll call him Bob, was a long term employee and he had the inventory process down and required minimal supervision. Just some sample confirmations. After the inventory, signed off, etc. he invited me to join him a this ice house.
At the ice house we met a group of his friends. All men in the same general age group. All hard working blue collar workers. All big men. The conversations varied from sports to work to politics. One of the group suggested we go to another venue, a place, a bar off the highway on a dirt road. It was a dark place and took time for the eyes to get used to. Men drinking at the bar, men drinking at tables, men running drinks back and forth, men working behind the bar. It didn't escape me, there were no women. The drinks kept flowing, and the food came but didn't keep up with the beer. One man slapped me on the back and leaned over to talk to me. Another man got up and went to the bathroom. From where I was sitting I saw him talk to a man in the hall, two men less than an inch separating them. I had made up my mind, I was in a gay bar for blue collar men.
That night, I was passed around by several men, one after the other. First in line was the warehouse manager, followed by several of his friends. A welcome party. I woke up in a trailer, beside a man named Gus, he had a hard one, a morning wood. He got up to relieve himself, didn't close the door to the small bathroom, came back and wanted to give me oral sex before having sex with me again. He gave me oral sex, and he had sex with me.
I went back to my job, the quiet office, the reports and the office staff. My report of the inventory count didn't mention that I was invited down a road I never would have followed. I can't get it out of my mind. It's a permanent fixture. I can't sleep without first reliving the experience. I wake up with a hard one, and have wet dreams. I have gone to this bar that I read on the internet was for men only, down by the refinery. Blue collar men dancing. I stand by the wall, watching, but I can't get up the nerve to strike up a conversation. I go home frustrated. Then, the next weekend again I go to the bar, get my beer, stand by the wall and watch men mixing.
