NOTE: Everyone in this story was of age, and it was consensual, despite my annoyance at the time, as you’ll understand. Don’t want to run afoul of the guidelines here.
My sophomore year of college, I was going through a surge of depression, and my friend Garrett and I decided to take a road trip to a nearby state park/lake resort for a long weekend of shopping and s’mores and hiking. Garrett was of no sexual interest – you see, he’s gay, and honestly I was looking forward to no drama from him or anyone else for a while.
Our first night, we got to our cabin around 4pm and made our way to a local divey place where there was just cold beer, one shuffleboard table, a dart board, and not much else. It was also the only place around for miles and therefore our only option. G and I had a couple beers and licked around with some darts and as time passed, the bar filled in with 6-8 locals, nearly all of whom came in on motorcycles. Garrett felt out of place and wanted to go and I even made the comment, “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll protect you,” as I smirked and threw a dart. He wasn’t reassured. By 9pm we had wandered to the shuffleboard table and were sort of screwing around, not even keeping score, when two of the locals approached me.