Daring Dave

Dave was a legend in these parts. Up for anything, he’d take any dare and over the years he had variously been arrested for public displays of nudity, assaulting a police officer by knocking off his helmet and any number of driving offences some of which later achieved viral status on YouTube. He’d taken on impromptu bush-tucker challenges at the Dog and Duck, spoofed numerous radio chat show hosts and appeared on television many, many times – usually by photo-bombing live reports. It was a foolish man who assumed Dave wouldn’t rise to a challenge.

He’d also turned his hand to many jobs but his natural exuberance caused him to be easily bored and distractions were always on hand. As a result he had been, briefly, a shop assistant, market stall trader, bin man, road sweeper, scaffolder and delivery driver – for one morning until the points-laden nature of his driving licence was discovered. Dave had picked potatoes, arranged roses, paved walkways and washed windows. He’d even once, on a lads holiday on a Mediterranean island, volunteered as a drugs mule for his mates. For a laugh.

His success with the ladies was littered with a long line of one-night stands; easy conquests and rapid disentanglements which made for an impressively notched bedpost but no lasting relationships. But lately Dave had become curious about the possibility of batting for the other side. He’d always been highly inquisitive when chatting with a gay couple he knew; what was it like? Did it hurt? Was it the same as…you know? But now he had hit on a career plan which necessitated he take his enquiries to the next level. Dave had hit on the notion of becoming a gay gigolo!

Over the next week his friends took him to a couple of gay clubs and Dave found his enthusiasm rising. He was up for the challenge and asked them to set him up with a no-strings, down-and-dirty, wham-bam-thank-you-Sam date. Partner selected, they all went back to Dave’s house for a drink. After a few libations Dave felt he had the courage to invite the new guy to the bedroom. A big, strapping fellow he was, muscles bulging from under a tight tee-shirt. Dave had a moment’s panic and took his friends to one side.

“What if I don’t like it? What if he hurts me? Will you come and rescue me?”

“We’ll be right outside. Just shout out and we’ll be there.”

“But if I shout he might hurt me more” said Dave.

“Then let’s have a safeword.”

“I might forget it!”

“Well what, then?”

After a moment, Dave had it. “I’ll make a farmyard noise! If you hear an animal noise; a horse, a chicken, a cow or something, come running.”

“Okay” they agreed, “but what if you’re enjoying it? Can you let us know somehow?”

“If it’s all good, I’ll burst into song!” said Dave, grinning.

They agreed and as Dave led the big guy into the bedroom, the two friends quietly climbed the stairs and waited, listening, on the landing. At first they heard some low voices then the sound of bedsprings and the less distinct noises of clothing being removed. Then it went quiet. For a few seconds, not a sound until it started. A low, deep noise, which slowly started to rise. It was a barnyard classic; from inside the bedroom, Dave was very clearly making a noise and the noise was “Mooooo…”

Brace yourself!

They charged into the room to see the muscled buttocks of the big man behind a stark-naked Dave, who was bent over the bed, the nois he was making was rising "Moooo... " and rising "..oooOO..." until he hit the crescendo and at the top of his voice yelled “...OOOON RIVER!”