You were already dating your girlfriend, but your highschool crush had posted her wedding photos, and you still couldn't get over how beautiful and pure she was, and how she had been snatched up by a man. So you had gone to the bar to drown the could have beens.

You were properly drunk and ranting to the only person who would listen, "Honest" Harry. The guy was a little too soft, a little too round, and far too inclined to be rude under the excuse of "being honest" to pull any of the women in the bar. Credit to the guy, he took 'no' for an answer and moved on without a fuss.

But it was late, and the constant rejections had gotten him down. You got the feeling the only reason he stuck around when you plopped down next to him and vented for half an hour was because misery loves company. And he wanted in your pants, but that's true of most men. You were working your way up to a good rant on how amazing it will be in the post-scarcity gay communist utopia, where you wouldn't have to deal with beautiful women getting trapped in patriarchal marriages. And just like the man he was, Harry interrupts you.

"It wouldn't solve anything. From what you've been saying, she was never that close to you, and she is genuinely happy with her husband. Frankly, I bet you would be happier with a man too, if this is what liking women gets you."

His comment on how distant you were hit a little too close to home. But you couldn't let that last bit stand. You bristled. "You bet I'd be happier with a man? I'm a l e s b i a n, Harry. I love women."

And then he got that stupid, smug grin that got under your skin like nothing else. "Methinks the lady doth protest too much."

And then you did the second dumbest thing you have ever done. You dragged him to the separate handicapped bathroom and say, "Put your money where your mouth is, you ass. Twenty bucks says you can't turn me straight."

Harry stared at you with surprise, then grinned, slapping a twenty down on the sink. "Deal."

And then he went in for a kiss, which was whatever, not the best kiss you've ever had. He pawed at your breasts, a little rougher than you like, and you wondered if he'd ever had a girlfriend. You were practically doing him a favor, letting him do this with you. He broke the kiss and turned you around. You braced your hands against the wall as he lifted your skirt, and you just shook your head. Not nearly enough foreplay, he was lucky you got so wet fantasizing about your crush.

The feeling of his cock ramming into you was weird. It was warmer and softer that your dildo, which was...different. But he didn't really know what he was doing, just humping you like a monkey, his hands on your hips, not even bothering to touch you anywhere nice. You had a smug smile on your face, even when he started to throb within you. No way would you ever give up pussy for this.

You snorted when he whimpered and came inside you. That's when the door to the restroom opened and Jack, the bartender gave the two of you an unamused look. A few other guys looked in around the door. "Yeah, that's enough. Get a hotel if you're going to do that."

Harry pulled out of you and said, "Fine. But pay up, dyke. I turned you straight."

You sneered at him. "Yeah, no. You blew your load like a virgin, my girlfriend is a way better lay than you."

Harry turned beet red and fled, leaving you feeling powerful and sexy. Then you did the absolute dumbest thing you've ever done, and shook your ass at Jack and the other drunks. "Twenty bucks says you can't turn me straight either."

The rest of the night was a bit of a blur. Jack was the one who got the closest, his cock curving just right, his fingers tweaking and pinching your nipples, his teeth biting your neck. You were seriously on the edge of cumming for several minutes before he busted inside you. The rest of the guys varied, some stretching your pussy, others falling out often when they humped you too wildly. Only two even touched your clit, and not particularly well either. By the time they were done, your pussy was sore and aching, oozing semen. There was plenty dripping down your thighs, and splatters across your ass from when one of the guys pulled out.

After wiping yourself off, you collected your winnings and ended up with a cool $200. You went home, smug and satisfied that you put those bigoted men in their place.