This is fantasy. In real life, make informed decisions about safer sex practices. Read this for your own enjoyment; please don't pass it on without checking with me. My email is at the end.

TJ took his bottle of Miller Lite to the bench opposite the bar in the back room at Casey's. The back room, as usual, was about half locals and half men visiting from out of town, drawn by the club's reputation as the last of the old-style leather bars in southern Arizona. TJ liked sitting where he could get a good view of the action at the bar, so he could figure out who he wanted to get it on with later. With his dark Hispanic good looks and high school athlete's body, he usually didn't have trouble convincing someone to come home with him ... and once the clothes came off, his big cock did whatever persuading was left to be done. 9 thick inches of dark fuckmeat with big balls hanging low were irresistible to most bottom boys, and TJ loved obliging them with rough sex that got more and more intense as the night went on.

He watched as a group of three men he'd never seen before came up to the bar and ordered. Two of them were pretty outstanding eye candy: one older anglo Daddy type wearing an unbuttoned sleeveless plaid shirt, and a younger bodybuilder sporting a leather harness. The third guy was a little Mexican with a cute face, a T-shirt, and a ball cap, who looked dwarfed by his two bigger buddies. The three men were clearly scoping out the men in the room, and TJ grinned as he watched them check out some of his long-time fuck buddies. Memories of good times made his cock begin to swell inside his tight jeans, and he had to reach down and adjust his package so his stiffening dick could find its way down his left leg.

His situation was pretty plain when the newcomers turned their attention to him as they scanned the room. TJ tried to look nonchalant. He was usually confident about his appearance, but something about these guys made him really want to look good. God, these guys were hot!

The older man was maybe in his early 40s, about 6'2 and easily 225 pounds of muscle. Not a gym rat, but solid like a working man: broad shoulders, thick chest covered with a mat of salt-and-pepper fur. Bull neck. Big arms... BIG arms! Firm gut. The younger man was just as big, but gym-perfect: Bulging vascular arms and shoulders, ripped 6-pack midsection. Wide back, slim hips, thighs that swelled and rippled inside his jeans as he moved. Thick traps. Chest shaved smooth to accentuate his muscularity, and a big cocky grin as he looked TJ up and down.

The attention was turning TJ on even more, and his cock continued making its slow painful way down his pants leg. He was pretty sure that there would soon be a visible wet spot as he started leaking cock snot. That would end all pretense of coolness! Deciding he didn't care all that much right now about being cool, TJ grinned back at the bodybuilder, and lifted his beer bottle in salute.

The two big men said something to each other, and all three got up from their bar stools and walked across to where TJ was sitting.

"Hey!" said TJ, standing up and sticking out a paw in the direction of the older man. He felt like he needed to take the initiative.

"Howdy! My name's Frank. This is my boy Jacky. And this is our buddy Julio." The three men shook hands, each carefully gauging the strength of the other. The older man had a handshake like a brick; Jacky squeezed a little harder and longer than necessary, almost challenging, but maybe just friendly. Julio had a firm handshake a bit out of proportion to his size and shape – maybe trying a little too hard in the company of bigger men? The four men stood looking at each other and frankly checking each other out.

TJ tried to figure out what was going on. "My boy Jacky" could mean, literally, that the bodybuilder was Frank's son. More likely, they were a "Daddy/boy" pair, with the older man taking a dominant role in their relationship and sex play. One thing was clear: the sexual energy coming off all three men was intense, and he was positive that his dick was leaking pre-cum by now. It would be REALLY uncool to look down and check!

"Let's get to the point," said Frank. "We've all checked each other out, we all like what we see. We're from Chicago, in town for a few days while we decide whether we want to move here. Julio would like to be closer to his family in Hermosillo, and we all hate snow. You a top?"

The abrupt turn in the conversation threw TJ for a loop. "Uh ... mostly," he stammered. He hadn't expected such a direct approach, and the truth just popped out of him: yes, he usually was the fucker, not the fuckee, but every once in a while his hole itched for a good reaming out, and these guys were just his type. Well, the two big ones for sure, but even Julio was a damn sexy little fucker. TJ's hole twitched.

"I mean, hell, yeah, I like fucking dudes. Rough and hard, if they can take it," he blustered. The whole situation had him a little off balance, and he felt like he had a position to establish as a Big Bad Top.

The older guy saw through it. "Relax, son. No one doubts your manhood. Here's the deal... we're mostly tops, too, and you can guess from our looks that we don't have any trouble getting bottom boys to play with us. But it's a lot harder getting some top guy to come on to us – we just look so damn butch. So sometimes we go looking for a good-looking stud to fuck us. Me, Jacky, Julio – take your pick. Or mix and match. It's pretty obvious what you're packing. We want it. What do you say?"

"Uh ..." TJ was completely floored. Felt like an idiot. The guy probably knew exactly what he was thinking right now...which was something along the lines of 'Fuck YEAH!' But it just didn't feel right to seem over-eager. "Uh..."

"All we ask is that after you're done with us, we can talk about getting at that cute butt of yours. Me and Jacky are hung even bigger than you. By a lot. You may not want to take us when you see what's what. That's OK. Just consider it."

"Yeah! I mean... you're all so hot – do I have to choose?" TJ was stalling for time, trying to figure out whether to just go ahead with what his balls wanted, or play at least a little hard to get. He'd gotten in trouble before, listening to his balls.

Jacky stepped in. "Dude, you can do pretty much whatever you want with whoever you want. Tell you what ... we're in room 518 at the Hilton. Take some time to think it over, and if you're game, text us and plan to join us later." He write a phone number on a bar tab and handed it to TJ.


There are several more chapters ready to go, and a lot more ideas in the pipeline. Comments, please, before I go further! Thanks for reading.



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