Chapter Five

THE WEEKS passed, and I became dissatisfied with the way things were going. I’d been so determined to choose men I knew I wouldn’t fall for, and it worked to a certain extent. I had an endless stream of temporary boyfriends who made me feel wanted physically, but I eventually realized it wasn’t enough. I had little in common with most of the men I allowed to pick me up in La Rues, and I rarely went on actual dates. It was all about sex, and in the beginning that had been exactly what I wanted, but it rapidly began to lose its appeal.

I kept away from town over the Christmas break and spent most of my time with Shirley and Sarah, and Sarah’s boyfriend, Jake, when he came over to the house. I decided to go out on New Year’s Eve and enjoy myself and make an effort to meet someone I could date and start a proper relationship with. If I could only stop myself from saying “yes” to everyone who showed an interest, I might have a hope of finding a decent man.

I went to La Rues on New Year’s Eve. There was nowhere else in town for someone like me to go, and I didn’t relish the idea of driving somewhere farther away and not being able to drink. Instead I took the bus into town with the idea of getting a taxi home later, if I could find one on the busiest night of the year.

As usual, I bought myself a drink and then hovered, gazing around the packed club at the couples and groups of men. It was only a matter of time before someone caught my eye. He was tall and rugged-looking, with short blond hair and stubble. He wore a white T-shirt stretched tight over broad shoulders and a muscular chest, and his forearms were decorated with multiple tattoos. When I swept my eyes lower, I took in faded jeans covering thighs like tree trunks and a large package between them. My mouth watered, and I felt my cock jump. He was hot, and he was looking right at me with a sly grin on his face.

I stayed where I was and waited for him to approach me. The number of men I’d been with over the past few months had made me confident in my ability to attract them, and I knew he’d come to me eventually. I sipped my drink and waited, while the club heaved around me with a mass of bodies dancing to the music. I glanced at my watch and noted it was eleven-thirty. Maybe I’d see the New Year in with a bang—literally.

“Hey, you.” I looked up as the deep voice spoke directly into my ear. He was close—I could feel his breath on my skin and the heat emanating from his body.

“Hi.”

“All alone on New Year’s Eve?” This time his lips brushed my ear, and I shivered.

“Not anymore,” I said with a smile.

“I’ve been watching you. Wanna get on the dance floor?”

“Okay.” I gulped the last couple of mouthfuls of my drink and left the glass on the bar.

I followed the hunk into the middle of the gyrating crowd and faced him. He grabbed me by the hips without hesitation and jerked me against his body. He cupped my ass with one large hand and held me tight so I could feel he was hard. My semi-erection grew, and I rolled my hips, letting him feel it rub against him. He lowered his head toward mine, and I thought he was going to kiss me, but he ducked to the side and sank his teeth into my earlobe. He moved from my ear to my neck and bit hard. I groaned and let my head fall back. I clutched at his shoulders to keep my balance, and he ground himself against me. I felt my underwear grow damp as my aching cock leaked. So much for me trying to find a date. Three minutes in his arms and I wanted to feel his thick shaft in my ass. I didn’t even know his name.

We made a pretense of dancing for a few more minutes. The DJ interrupted the music to tell the club-goers we had fifteen minutes before the countdown. I leaned my head against the hunk’s shoulder and breathed deep. He had his hand between us, palming my erection roughly through my trousers. If he kept it up for much longer, I’d come then and there on the dance floor, but I didn’t want to ask him to stop. My balls ached, and I bucked against his hand, encouraging him.

“Gonna come, pretty boy?” he said in my ear.

“Close,” I whispered.

He took his hand away, and I moaned in disappointment. The hunk laughed and caught my wrist in his huge hand. He led me off the dance floor without a word and headed into the toilets. A row of men stood at the urinals, and one of the two cubicles was occupied. Sounds from inside indicated someone was getting fucked. The hunk ushered me into the vacant cubicle and locked the door behind us. He didn’t say anything to me. He looked into my eyes while he unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. His eyes were blue-gray—I hadn’t been able to see the color in the darkness of the club, lit only by a multitude of flashing lights. I looked down and gasped at the sight of his erection. It jutted out of his underwear, thick and throbbing. The swollen red tip peeped out of his foreskin, and I licked my lips.

“Got a condom?” he asked huskily.

“Uh... yeah.” I fumbled in my back pocket for the square of foil I always put in there before I went out. I passed it to him and unfastened my trousers. I lowered them to my knees along with my underwear, and then remembered the sachet of lube I had in my other pocket. I opened it up, wondering if I should prepare myself or leave it to him. He didn’t seem as if he wanted to wait. He already had the condom on and was stroking the uncovered couple of inches of his length.

“Hurry up,” he said, confirming his impatience. “Get yourself ready.”

I tore open the sachet, coated my fingers and pressed one and then two into myself. It had been almost two weeks, and I winced as I hurried to stretch myself. My heart pounded, and my legs trembled a little with excitement and nervousness. The man was huge—bigger than any I’d had before. I needed longer to prepare.

“Come on, that’s enough.” He gripped my shoulder and turned me to face the door of the cubicle, my back to him. I pulled my fingers out with a groan. I was going to be sore later.

I braced my hands against the door and breathed out, trying to stay relaxed as he breached me. I clenched my teeth to suppress a cry of pain as he pushed his full length into me without a pause. My erection waned, and I lowered one hand to stroke it, hoping the sensation would take my mind off his assault on my ass.

“Fuck, you’re tight.” The hunk groaned in my ear. “Gonna come fast.”

He began to thrust hard, withdrawing almost to his tip before he rammed back into me. I let go of my cock and rested both hands on the door again, tensing my arms and shoulders to prevent my face being slammed into the surface. I knew I wouldn’t come, anyway. It hurt too much, and I was just glad he couldn’t see my face. I was biting my lip so hard it was a wonder I couldn’t taste blood. I prayed he would finish quickly so it would be over.

When I’d first seen him eyeing me up, I’d imagined he might be the one I was looking for when I walked into the club. We’d barely spoken, but the stupid part of my brain still hoped that maybe something would come of this. We might have things in common. Maybe he was looking for someone to date, just like I was. The next time, we might be in his bed. If he took his time with me, I’d love having that big cock fill me.

He came with a deep groan and pulled out of me abruptly. I whined at the discomfort, unable to stop the sound escaping me. I grabbed some toilet paper to wipe myself, relieved to find I wasn’t bleeding. I pulled my clothes back up and fastened them before I turned around. The hunk was already tucked away, and the used condom floated in the toilet bowl.

“That was hot,” he said and gave me a brief grin. He reached around me to open the door and pushed me aside as he walked out. I followed, grimacing with every step.

“Almost midnight,” I commented. “Do you want to get a drink?”

“Not really. I’m going soon.”

“How about I give you my number?” I suggested. “My name’s Tommy. Maybe we could get together–”

He turned to face me, his brows drawn together in a slight frown. “Look... Tommy... if you’re looking for a date, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

“But....”

“I don’t date boys who’ll bend over in a toilet less than half an hour after meeting someone. I don’t want a slut for a boyfriend.”

My jaw dropped. “But... you came to me....”

“I wanted to fuck. Happy New Year.”

He walked away from me, and I stood there in the middle of the club, oblivious to the crowds around me. My eyes stung with tears, and my ass was a painful reminder of what I’d just done. He was right. I was a slut. All I’d done over the past few months was let one man after another fuck me and use me however they saw fit. I’d thought I was in control when I picked the ones I knew I wouldn’t fall for, but I still let them do what they wanted with me. I was popular because I was easy. None of them cared about me. Why would they when I handed it to them on a plate? I’d lost count of how many there had been and couldn’t remember some of their names. I didn’t even know this latest man’s name.

As the music stopped and the DJ began the countdown to midnight, I left the New Year revelers behind and walked out onto the street. I hadn’t bothered to wear a jacket that evening as the weather was uncharacteristically mild, but I regretted it now. A light rain was falling, and as I turned toward the busier areas to look for a taxi, the downfall increased. I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself as I stopped to shelter in a doorway. I could hear cheering coming from La Rues, and fireworks began to go off along the seafront and in various gardens. It was 2008, and I’d essentially been alone for more than eight months. I’d never felt more lonely in my life.

“Hey, look... you think he’s a poof?” I heard a loud voice say. I looked up and spotted two men on the opposite side of the street, both walking unsteadily as if they’d had one too many. They stopped and stared at me, both laughing.

“Hey, blondie! Wanna suck my dick?” the other man shouted and dissolved into loud, hysterical laughter. He bent double, almost falling to his knees. His friend hauled him upright, and the pair lurched across the road toward me.

I stepped out of the doorway into the rain and began to walk away. The last thing I needed on top of everything else was trouble with a couple of drunken, homophobic pricks.

“Aww, he’s running away! Are ya scared, blondie?”

“You should be! Fucking queer!”

I ran, whimpering quietly from the pain in my ass and the bottom of my spine. Hot tears filled my eyes and spilled over, immediately washed away by the rain. A sob burst from my lips, and I stumbled over an uneven paving stone.

“Where d’ya think you’re going? Not gonna say happy New Year to us?” One of the men grabbed my arm and halted my flight.

“Happy New Year,” I said. “Now let me go.”

“Nah. We wanna have some fun. You know my friend here has to live near that fucking club and watch your sort coming and going, fucking fooling about outside and stuff. Makes us sick.”

“Leave me alone.” I was scared. I’d never been in this position before, although I’d read reports in the papers of homophobic attacks in the area. I’d been beaten before, plenty of times, but only by Colin. In a way, this was worse because I didn’t know what was coming.

“Aww, he’s scared. Gonna start crying for your mummy? Or your boyfriend? Fucking ass-bandit.” The man speaking still held onto my arm. The other one leaned in close and stared into my face. I blinked rapidly, trying to clear my eyes of tears and raindrops. Before I had the chance to react, the man pulled back and drove his fist into my stomach. I bent double, gasping and retching. The lager I’d drunk over the past couple of hours came up with a rush and splattered over my attacker’s shoes. He jumped back, spitting expletives, and the one holding my arm let go. I knew I should run, but I couldn’t move. I couldn’t get my breath, and I slumped to my knees, panting desperately.

A fist connected with my face. I didn’t know which of the men had hit me, but it was followed by another punch to the side of my head. I rolled into a ball on the wet pavement and covered my head and face with both arms as best I could. I was soaked to the skin and shivering, and my jaw and head ached where I’d been hit. I wept as I waited for the next punch, or a kick, but none came. Next I heard laughing and footsteps moving away from me.

I lay still until I caught my breath. It could only have been a minute or two at most, but it seemed much longer. I was freezing, and the rain wasn’t letting up. My clothes were stuck to me, and my hair was plastered to my head. I pushed myself up slowly and flinched again as my sore ass came into contact with the concrete. I felt pathetic, and I saw myself as someone else might see me. I saw a victim—someone who put up with everything people threw at me out of desperation to be loved. I put my hands over my face and sobbed, and it was only when a car pulled up in front of me and I spied flashing lights through my fingers that I made an effort to get to my feet. I lifted my ass from the wet ground and paused in an awkward crouch.

“Too much to drink?” I heard a woman’s voice ask.

“No. I only had a... a c-couple of p-pints,” I stammered.

“What happened to you?”

“I... uh... I....” I lowered my hands and looked up at the policewoman. Behind her was a male colleague. Their car waited at the curb, blue lights still flashing. “I’m... I... a couple of drunks attacked me,” I managed to say.

“Can you get up?” The female officer put a hand under my arm, and I scrambled to my feet. I was shaking more from cold than from pain. “Where’s your coat?”

“I didn’t bring one. I... it was dry earlier,” I said lamely.

“Better get him in the car,” the policeman said. I looked at him, wondering if he could be the same one who rescued me from Colin, but this man was older and sterner. Besides, it would have been far too much of a coincidence to be rescued by the same copper again.

I allowed myself to be ushered into the back seat of the police car. A plastic sheet covered the seat, and I was given a blanket to wrap around my shoulders. The car was warm, and I huddled there gratefully as I tried to pull myself together. The policewoman got in the car beside me and closed the door.

“Do you have any idea who attacked you?” she asked. “Can you give us a description?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I didn’t see them clearly. I was upset.”

“Did something else happen?”

“Not really.” I had no intention of telling them what I’d been doing half an hour before.

“So why did these men hurt you? Did you do anything to provoke them?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “I was in La Rues. Maybe they saw me come out. They shouted out various insults and then punched me a few times.”

The policeman turned in the driver’s seat and peered at me, eyebrows raised.

“I’m gay? All right?” I muttered. “It’s not a crime, is it?”

The policeman frowned, and I cursed myself for not being able to keep my mouth shut. Being sarcastic to the police wasn’t the best idea.

“Of course not,” the woman said. “Just calm down. We’re here to help. I think we should call the paramedics to check you over and make sure you’re not badly hurt.”

“I’m fine. Just bruised.”

“Why don’t you let someone who knows what they’re doing be the judge of that?”

“I’ve been hurt way worse than this before,” I blurted. “I know when I’m okay and when I’m not.”

“Well....” The woman frowned. “We can’t force you to be examined. I’ll need to take a statement though.”

“I just want to go home,” I protested. I couldn’t wait to go to bed and forget about the whole crappy night. “I’m fine. There’s nothing I can say except that I got jumped by a couple of drunks. I can’t describe them or anything, and I wouldn’t have called you. You just happened to find me.”

“Why are you so reluctant to report this?” she pressed.

“Because it’s nothing. It’s my own fau—” I stopped suddenly. It was exactly what Colin used to say when he hurt me; that I’d brought it on myself by displeasing him. “I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Please, can I just go home?”

The woman sighed and considered for a moment. “We’re not going to leave you here like this. Have you got somewhere to go? Where you won’t be alone?”

“Yes, I live in Scartho with my best friend and her mother. I was going to get a taxi, but....” I trailed off and shrugged.

“I think we can run you home. Right, Derek?”

The policeman turned away without a word and picked up his radio. He spoke into it for a minute, advising their office they were escorting home the victim of a homophobic attack and that another car needed be sent to replace them, should there be any trouble when the bars and clubs began to empty. When he ended the brief discussion, he put his seatbelt on and shifted the car into gear.

“You’d better sit up here, Rosemary.”

The policewoman waited while I fastened my seatbelt and then left the car and got back into the passenger seat. Derek switched off the blue lights and began to drive, and I relaxed in the seat and closed my eyes. All I wanted was a hot shower and then my bed.

I opened my eyes when the car stopped, and discovered it was parked outside Sarah’s house. I knew she’d be out—she’d planned to see the New Year in with Jake and then stay at his place for the night. I hoped Shirley would be asleep. I dreaded her seeing me in the state I was.

“That’s my house,” I said needlessly. I’d given them my address, after all.

“Will you be all right?” the policewoman asked kindly.

“Yes. I just need a shower and sleep. Thanks.”

“If anything comes to mind—about the men who attacked you—please get in touch.”

“I will.” I slipped out of the car into the rain and ran to the door. I couldn’t see any lights on from outside, but when I let myself in I could see a glow around the door to the dining room. Shirley liked to sit in there and sew or knit when she was on her own. I could hear the small TV she kept there for entertainment. It was probably Jools Holland’s New Year bash, or whatever he called it.

I debated creeping up the stairs and avoiding her, but if she didn’t hear me, she’d worry I was still out. I pushed the almost-closed door open and stuck my head around it.

“Hi, Shirley, I’m back.”

“Tommy!” She put her knitting down and rose quickly. “What on earth happened to you?”

“Um... it started pouring with rain.” I forced a laugh. “Muggins here didn’t take a coat.”

“I didn’t mean that. You’ve been hurt. What happened?”

I relinquished my grip on the edge of the door reluctantly as she came toward me. I hadn’t had the opportunity to look at myself in the mirror, and I wondered what my face looked like. One of the men had punched me in the face, just below my left eye.

“Um... why? What...?” I backed away into the hall, flicked the light on, and looked at myself in the mirror by the door. “Oh....” My left cheek was livid and swollen, and I had a graze on my jaw, probably from the pavement.

“Tommy, go and get into some dry clothes,” Shirley said. “Then I think we need to have a talk.”