The bar was tucked off a side street, the kind of place you didn’t stumble into by accident. Low ceilings, amber light, a scarred wooden counter polished smooth by years of elbows and spilled secrets. It smelled faintly of citrus cleaner and whiskey. Comfortable. Anonymous.
Jaxson arrived early.
Late twenties. Built like his body was part of the job description—which, in a way, it was. Construction worker by day, gym rat by choice. Thick forearms dusted with faded scars, hands rough and unapologetic, shoulders that stretched the seams of his worn t-shirt. His dark hair was cut short, practical, and his jaw carried a permanent shadow of stubble. He looked like someone who lifted heavy things for a living and didn’t complain about it.
He ordered a beer and leaned back, checking the door.
That was when Marcus walked in.
Early forties. Impeccably refined, dark jeans, black polo. He moved like the room already belonged to him—not loud, not rushed, just assured. His hair was silvered at the temples, his face sharp and handsome in a way that felt deliberate. Massive chest and arms, tight waist, muscled thighs. Hedge fund manager energy: restraint, precision, quiet dominance. Power that didn’t need to announce itself.
His eyes found Jaxson immediately.
“So you must be Jaxson,” Marcus said, voice low, controlled, warm beneath the steel.
“And you’re Marcus,” Jaxson replied, standing without thinking. “Yeah… that tracks.”
A corner of Marcus’s mouth lifted. “Good.”
They shook hands. Marcus’s grip was firm but unhurried, like he was measuring something more than strength. Jaxson felt it all the way up his arm.
Drinks were ordered—bourbon for Jaxson, neat. Something dark and expensive for Marcus.
Conversation flowed fast, then slower, settling into something richer.
They talked travel. Marcus had cities under his belt—Zurich, London, Singapore—spoken of like territories he understood intimately. Jaxson listened, fascinated, then countered with stories of long road trips, job sites in different states, motel gyms at midnight.
“I like knowing my limits,” Jaxson said. “Then pushing past them.”
Marcus’s gaze sharpened, appreciative. “I make a living doing exactly that.”
They talked interests. Marcus loved discipline—cooking with precision, early mornings, controlling chaos before it could become a problem. Jaxson trained hard, lifted heavier than most, liked the clarity that came from exhaustion and sweat.
Their knees brushed under the bar. Neither moved away.
Ex-boyfriends came up eventually, as they always did.
“I don’t do messy endings,” Marcus said calmly. “If something stops serving both people, I exit cleanly.”
Jaxson nodded. “I stayed too long once. Thought loyalty meant ignoring the signs. The guy really just liked showing me off. We met in the gym. I caught him check me out in the showers. So I gave him a little show. He was hot and one thing led to another. He was a bit older so we hung out with his rich friends a lot. Trips to Palm Springs and Mexico. At first it was cool. Then as time went on he just liked to show me off to his friends. He would buy me like these little swim trunks or tan tops. The less clothes the better so his buds could check me out. It took me a while to catch on."
Marcus studied him for a beat. “You didn't hate the attention.”
Jaxson smiled and might have blushed a little. "Well, if you work hard for it you got to show it off, right?"
Marcus smiled and moved on from the topic.
By the time they paid the tab, the bar felt too small, too enclosed. The night outside was cool and quiet, the city stretched open in front of them.
They decided to walk.
It was a long way for both of them, but neither suggested otherwise.
Their footsteps echoed softly on the sidewalk. The space between them shrank without discussion.
Streetlights painted Marcus’s face in gold and shadow, sharpening his angles, deepening the intensity in his eyes.
“You’re very comfortable in your body,” Marcus said, not looking away.
Jaxson smirked. “You’re very comfortable in control.”
Marcus’s smile was slow, dark. “Only when it’s earned.”
They kept walking, the city humming softly around them. The night felt charged, purposeful—like something inevitable had already been set in motion. Marcus guided them along the outer edge of a dark massive park at the edge of town. As they passed the giant metal gate to the entrance, Marcus paused and looked down the dark path that led away from the streetlights. Marcus asked Jaxson "You said you run in this park in the mornings. So I'm guessing you are pretty familiar with the paths?" Jaxson nodded. "Great, why don't you show me your favorite path." Without hesitation Jaxson led the way into the park.
They moved deeper into the park, and the night seemed to narrow around them—sound dampened, light rationed out in deliberate intervals. Marcus adjusted his pace so Jaxson had to stay close, close enough that their shoulders brushed when the path tightened.
It wasn’t accidental.
Marcus let his hand skim Jaxson’s lower back when they passed beneath a lightpost, just for a second—guiding, not touching. The contact was brief, almost dismissible, but Jaxson felt it like a spark. His breath changed. Marcus noticed.
A few steps later, Marcus slowed without warning. Jaxson nearly walked into him.
Jaxson laughed under his breath, but his pulse had jumped. Marcus looked at Jaxson frozen in place and said "It's been a hot summer. That must be why you run so early in the morning." Jaxson swallowed hard under Marcus's full attention and said " Yeah. It's nice to feel the air on my skin when I run." Marcus smiled "Are you one of those guys that wears the full running outfit. Spandex marathon pants, shirt, head lamp, fitness tracker. The athlete?"
Jaxson scoffed " Hell no. Shit. Most days I just wear my shorts and tennis shoes. It's been so hot I'd run naked if I could." Marcus raised his eyebrow and then turned to continue down the path. Jaxson's mind raced. Why would he say that?! This guy had him acting like a teenager on a first date.
They walked on.
Marcus spoke less now, letting silence do the work. When he did talk, he leaned in just enough that Jaxson had to tilt his head to hear—forcing proximity, forcing attention. Sometimes their hands brushed. Sometimes Marcus corrected Jaxson’s path with the lightest pressure at his elbow, steering him without ever asking.
Each touch was fleeting. Each one landed.
Jaxson didn’t consciously register the pattern—only the result. His body stayed tuned to Marcus, waiting. He found himself watching for the next contact, the next instruction disguised as coincidence.
Marcus knew exactly what he was doing.
Control wasn’t about force. It was about calibration. About creating just enough uncertainty that someone leaned in instead of pulling away. About offering attention in small, precise doses—never enough to satisfy, always enough to make them want more.
They stopped beneath another lightpost.
“This way,” Marcus said quietly, already turning down a narrower path.
Jaxson followed without hesitation.
He didn’t ask where they were going.
He didn’t ask how much farther.
They emerged into a wide, open clearing where a massive fountain loomed out of the dark like a monument. Whatever lights once ringed it were dead—burned out or deliberately shut off—leaving the stone basin swallowed by shadow. Water spilled steadily from its tiers, the sound low and constant, filling the space with a hush that felt intentional.
The moon did most of the work here.
Silver light traced the edges of the fountain and washed over them just enough to sharpen outlines—Marcus’s posture, composed and unhurried; Jaxson’s broad frame, solid and unmistakably present. Beyond the trees, the city reminded them it still existed: distant traffic, a horn far away, muted and irrelevant.
Marcus stopped.
Without a word, he sat on the edge of the fountain, elbows resting on his knees. It wasn’t an invitation. It was placement.
Jaxson remained standing facing Marcus and the fountain. The cascade of water rolled over stone creating a white noise.
Moonlight carved definition into Jaxson’s body: the slope of his shoulders beneath his thin t-shirt, the taper of his waist, the thickness of thighs built from years of deliberate strain. Strength earned rep by rep. Discipline made visible. Marcus’s gaze followed the lines slowly, appreciatively, never rushing.
Jaxson’s awareness sharpened.
He adjusted his stance without thinking, weight shifting, chest lifting slightly as if responding to gravity itself. His breath deepened. He could feel eyes on him—measuring, claiming space without touching.
Marcus said nothing. The power was in the pause. Then he said "Have you ever run naked?" The question caught Jaxson off guard and he chuckled nervously. "Nah, I was just kidding." Marcus stayed silent with eyes locked. The quiet forced Jaxson to fill it "I mean, in high school and college I was famous for getting drunk and streaking with my buddies." Marcus responded "Oh really?" Jaxson continued "Yeah. I think the first time was a dare. They didn't think I would go through with it. But I proved'em wrong when I stripped and took off across the football field. We were drinking after a game. The field was dark and I don't even remember why they dared me." Marcus smiled and said "I would've like to see that." Jaxson flushed.
Jaxson had always been a tease. He had a few drinks tonight and decide to push the envelope. Jaxson looked around and then back at Marcus.."I could give you a little peak if you REALLY want." Marcus stayed silent but smiled. Jaxson paused. Looked around again and then pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it to Marcus. Next he undid his belt, button and zipper on his jeans and pushed them to his ankles. He stood back up with a big smile as Marcus took in the view of Jaxson in his white boxer briefs. He flashed a cheesy flex of his biceps and then bent down to pull his pants up. As he was zipping up, Marcus said " You don't have to get dressed if you don't want to." Jaxson stared to try to judge if he was joking. Marcus just kept him locked with that intense gaze. No smile, just attention. Jaxons stopped and lowered his zipper again and paused. He looked around again then back to Marcus.
Jaxson could feel his boxers getting tighter in the front. Then he hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans and slowly pushed them back down to his knees before standing up straight.
Marcus leaned back on his hands as if he was waiting for the show to continue. Jaxson looked around again and then pushed his jeans down to his ankles. Marcus silently watched.
Jaxson felt the unspoken dare. Marcus didn't think he would go further. This had turned into a game of chicken. Jaxson took the toe of one loose workboat and pushed the other boot off from the heel and then shucked off the other with his sock covered toe.
Then he reached down and whisked off his jeans one leg at a time and then tossed them to Marcus who was forced to catch them.
Marcus again stayed silent and set Jaxson jeans on top of his t-shirt on the fountain ledge. Then he leaned back and waited for the show to continue.
Jaxson, never being one to back down, pulled off one sock, then the other and tossed those to Marcus as well. Then he looked around nervously. He looked back at Marcus and before he lost the nerve he whisked his boxer briefs to his ankles, stepped out of them and stood up. He used one toe to flip them up to Marcus, but over shot and they landed in the fountain behind Marcus.
Jaxson chuckled nervously and then was finding it hard to know what to do with his hands. He looked down and realized that he was standing at half mast from the excitement. He had noting to be ashamed of. He was blessed when it came to size, girth and length. Both hard and soft. That was one of the reasons he had never been embarrassed to streak or show off in the locker room. Most guys couldn't help but steal a glance to compare.
Jaxson thought for sure Marcus would stay something, but he just leaned back and watched with a smile on his face. Jaxson looked around, starting to get a bit nervous. The warm night air blowing across his bare body made every nerve come alive. The attention, the danger of getting caught and the hunk sitting before him was a deadly combination. He could feel his cock getting stiffer by the second. Just as Jaxson was about to cave and get dressed, Marcus stood up and walked toward him without saying a word. He walked around behind Jaxson and then came up beside him. He slid one arm over Jaxson's shoulder as he came around the other side to face the fountain with Jaxson. Then he took his free hand and ran it slowly down Jaxsons chest. He squeezed the large pecs and made approving sounds as he tugged at each nipples and began to explore lower over Jaxsons abs. Then lower until he wrapped a strong hand around Jaxson's hog and helped him reach full throbbing boner status. The tugging was slow and deliberate. Enough to stimulate but too slow and light to really get to the finish line. Jaxson thought the guy would jerk him off and then they would be on their way. At this point Jaxson would have been willing to finish the job himself.
Marcus took his time, teasing the tip. Slowly stroking the shaft to the base, rubbing the balls. Then working backwards to the tip. Again and again drawing moans from Jaxson. The warm breeze was intoxicating across all his bare skin. He was lost in the sensations, and when Marcus used the arm over his shoulder to turn his body, Jaxson moved naturally. A moment later he realized they were walking down the path as Marcus continued to tease his cock. The feel of the warm sidewalk on the bare soles of his feet started to sink in. His mind began to race as he felt them move away from where his clothes lay on the fountain.
It all seemed to happen so quickly. One moment they were standing by the fountain, the next Jaxson looked over his shoulder and could barely make out the fountain in the dark. As they walked he could see the path ahead by the moonlight. He could feel himself getting closer to orgasm with each step. It was startling when Marcus stopped walking. He stepped in front of Jaxson. He slid his hand from Jaxson's shoulder up the back of his neck to the back of his head. Then he pulled Jaxson in for a kiss as he kept working his hard dick with his other hand.
They stood there in the middle of the sidewalk as Marcus kissed him and kept him on the edge of exploding. Jaxson drank in the moment. The attention, the pleasure, the thrill. He could feel his nipples were rock hard along with his cock. He could feel the first electric shock wash down his spine and knew the orgasm was building to the point of no return.
As if he could sense it, Marcus stopped the kiss, released his cock and took a large step backward to leave Jaxson standing in the middle of the path.
Marcus began digging something out his pocket as he said " I know what we need..." Jaxson was riding the edge of release and the shock of now standing naked and hard in the middle of the sidewalk hit him like a slap of reality. He looked back over his shoulder and couldn't tell how far away the fountain was. How far had they walked? He turned back as Marcus lit a joint and took the first few puffs before handing it to Jaxson.
It all set him off kilter. He took the joint without thinking, looked at it, looked at his raging boner, looked up at Marcus and then back to dick and then back to the joint. Marcus asked him " Do you smoke?" Jaxson was in a fog and said " Uh, yeah, sometimes. sure." Marcus smiled and then innocently said "Oh, were you about to cum?" Jaxson wasn't sure what to say all of the sudden. He froze. Marcus didn't miss a beat as he stepped back up to Jaxson. He took Jaxson's hand holding the joint and raised it to Jaxson's lips. At the same time he took Jaxson's other free hand and placed it on his cock standing out in front of his hips as he said. Take over for me while we smoke this joint. Jaxson took a hit as he stroked a long stroke of his cock without thinking about it. Both hit his senses at the same time. Marcus stood a few feet away as Marcus took a few drags and found a slow rhythm stroking his cock.
Marcus smiled and took the joint back. Took a drag and then handed it back. Jaxson took a drag as he slowly stroked. The joint started to take hold and he felt himself relax. Marcus took the joint back and as he took a drag he said "Ok, that's better. And the start to walk away asking Jaxson if he ran in this part of the park in the mornings." Marcus was getting further away and Jaxson looked back over his shoulder toward the fountain in the dark, then back to Marcus who was disappearing down the path.
He made a split second choice. He took a few fast steps to catch up to Marcus. Only then did Marcus look over at him, then casually down to his dick and said "Don't stop, it must feel good. I mean, look at that thing. That's gotta be one of the fattest hogs I've seen." Jaxson was starting to feel the joint. Marcus nodded at his dick again and Jaxson resumed his stroking as they walked and passed the joint back and forth. Marcus casually continued the conversation. Asking questions to keep Jaxson just distracted enough not to cum.
They walked down the path with Jaxson trying to focus on the questions and on his dick. He wasn't sure how much time had passed but it was a shock when he realized they were walking under a bright lit part of the path. He looked back behind him to realize they had been walking thought bright spots for a while now.
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