About 4 years ago, I went on a vacation trip at a lake house with a bunch of friends for 4th of July weekend. There were 17 of us and pretty much all of us knew each other, except for one guy, Troy, who is a friend of a friend. So for most of us, it was the first time meeting Troy.
Troy is a white guy in his 30’s, who is a fireman. For someone who has a sexualized profession, he had a pudgy body type and a baby face that portrays innocence more than sex.
So there we were, 17 gays plus lots of booze at a private lake. Of course Fourth of July is not complete without sparklers. Troy, of all people, decided to light them up inside the house. I thought firefighters were suppose to fight fire not start it. I quickly chased the dumb dumb outside to spark up the sparklers.
While I am sitting out on the front porch steps with the sparklers, Troy came to sit down directly behind me with his chin on my right shoulder. We sparked up as we romantically watched the sparklers twinkle with a beautiful night sky above the gleaming lake water ahead of us. I turned around and we started to make out. Next thing I know his hand is in my shorts that rapidly lead to a more private wooded area. His baby face no longer was innocent as he was kneeling front of me. I was so turned on, I was practically on fire.
But I kept resisting him because I got too worried about getting caught by my gossipy friends. Sure enough, the very first topic of discussion next morning was Troy hooking up with someone. For a second, I got embarrassed. But as they were giving blow by blow of the scene when they walked in on Troy blowing someone in the bathroom, I realized they were not talking about me. It turns out Troy actually hooked up with someone else.
Even though it was a drunken night make out session with no promise of future, I wanted it to be a special thing just for me. Perhaps, it was just a fireman boyfriend fantasy.
Also read about Steve, another Fourth of July romance that gone bad: Fireworks.