They started to navigate their way to the bar, when a handsome man speaking with a German accent approached them with a serving tray. “What drinks of pleasure from Bacchus would you two professors of philosophy wish to indulge?”
Glenn glanced towards Billie and gave a nod.
Billie yelled above the music, “Two glasses of Merlot.”
“Thank you, gentlemen; I will return shortly with your nectar from the gods.” The toga-clad waiter swished his way to the service bar.
“Professors,” Billie remarked, sarcastically. “Do we look that old? Or was he flirting with us, as experienced veterans to train and teach these young students in the Greek rituals of love?”
“I think he was just being polite,” Glenn said. “Of course, we are much older than many of these guys parading around in Jockey shorts.”
“I thought our virtuous manhood and distinction could mold some of these wildly, appealing bodies into symmetry, proportion, and balance.”
“They already have that and more,” Glenn countered, as he glared at a dancer with a hairy, muscular chest. The dancer exhibited a prominent bulge beneath his white Jockey shorts. “It is we who should acquire some of that perfection. Something like him would be nice.”
Billie noticed who caught the attention of Glenn’s eyes. “I see what you mean.” He moaned in awe, and tried to hide his slight jealousy. “If we only had bodies that young.”
“I don’t think I ever had a body like that.” Glenn ogled even more.
“You do to me, Munchkin,” Billie grinned.
“You’re kind, but so full of it.”
“Hey, that’s Bruce, our waiter.” Billie, suddenly, realized who the man was.
“You’re right, that’s Bruce, just like I wanted to see him.”
“He sure is!”
The waiter returned with their glasses of wine. Glenn gave him two of their tokens, and thanked him.
“Enjoy girls,” the waiter replied, before he turned to approach another couple who had just arrived. He bounced, like a dragonfly dancing from one water lily leaf to another, as he walked away.
“Now, I know why I wish I wasn’t gay sometimes.” Billie watched the waiter walk.
“Why?” Glenn asked.
“Why?” Billie repeated, unbelievingly. He spoke a little too loud, and others nearby turned to look. He lowered his voice. “He’s so damn cute and polite, but spoils it all with all those stereotypical mannerisms. He’s like drunk worker bee that has had too much nectar, flying after the queen bee.”
Glenn smiled, acknowledging his agreement. “Look at all these other guys, though. Don’t go spoiling the night over him.”
“You’re right, as usual,” Billie sipped from his glass.
While the fantasy parade of men danced in Jockey shorts on the small dance floor, Glenn mused with appreciation. “I wish we were both younger and braver to dance, so uninhibited.”
Glenn focused on Bruce dancing, admiring his glistening, hairy chest. The dark, curly hair had matted from his sculpted pecs down to his rippled abs. As he continued to dance, the protrusion beneath the damp, thin pouch of his Jockey shorts revealed itself more distinctly than before. His arms and legs flailed and twisted to the erotic rhythm of music. “I’m getting tired of just seeing Bruce dance,” he admitted with a sexually appreciative sigh.
“What if he propositioned you, dripping with sweat?” Billie laughed with appreciation at this provocative suggestion.
“Gross! He’d have to shower first. I couldn’t take all his sweat and drool,” Glenn countered, his face wincing with disgust.
“I like all that sweat. You have to admit he’s quite a hunk.” Billie’s eyes calculated a devious scenario.
“Yes, dear, I see him quite clearly, and with that dick to die for.”
Billie glanced around, watching the other men dance. He slowly realized something occurring on the dance floor. His face awakened with an instant of recognition. “They’re doing poppers.”
“What do poppers really do for you?”
Glenn’s innocence gave Billie a chance to share his experience. “They’re supposed to give you a sexual high. You know, an erotic feeling. They just made me dizzy and light headed, when I used to use them,” Billie confessed. “Let’s go dance for a couple of minutes,” he begged.
“What about your leg?” Glenn was suspicious but cautious.
“Please, just one dance.”
Before Glenn could respond, Bruce tapped him on his shoulder from behind. “Would you like to dance?”
Glenn’s face flushed crimson red. Fumbling for words, he turned to Billie for a reaction.
“Go ahead;” Billie reacted, “here’s your chance.”
“I guess it’s okay then," he stuttered.
As Billie watched them dance, he realized his glass was empty. From a distance, he noticed an extremely, gorgeous bartender. He wedged through the sweating bodies to the bar.