It was almost 12 AM, and I had no luck finding anybody in this damn gay club to hook up with. It’s not that I’m bad-looking or anything — really, I’ve got the classic sharp-jawed boy thing going on, and I work out a few times a week.
The thing is, there weren’t many people in the club. The city isn’t that big to begin with, so most guys only come around here on Fridays. Today was Saturday. I couldn’t come yesterday because of work — a night shift — and since I slept through most of the day, I had the energy to be out tonight.
And honestly, I probably would’ve just waited until next weekend if it wasn’t for the fact that… I wanted to get laid tonight. I didn’t want to wait.
So here I was.
And it wasn’t going that great.
I scanned the bar again. Not much luck. Most of the guys were way older than me — I’m twenty-six — and the rest were drag queens or a lone femboy, neither of which were really my type. A couple of them had approached me, offered me drinks, but I declined politely. No need to waste their money if I wasn’t interested. So I just kept to myself, dancing halfheartedly to the music.
Eventually, I drifted back to the bar and ordered another beer. This was maybe my third bottle, so I was starting to feel looser, a little more open to… experimenting.
“No luck?” asked the bartender — a guy who looked like he was in his twenties, with messy curly hair in a shade of dirty light brown. I couldn’t see his eyes with the lights flashing everywhere, but I could see his arms as he reached for a bottle. Definitely a gym guy.
“Nope,” I sighed over the pounding disco music. And then, because fuck it — he was hot, and I was tipsy — I added: “But you’re cute.”
He gave me a smile. The kind of smile that melts you instantly, as cheesy as that sounds. “Thanks.”
Was he just being polite? Or… maybe he was actually into me?
“So… can I get your number?” I asked. I could already feel myself stumbling, nervous in a way I usually wasn’t. Normally, I was smooth. Confident. But now I felt awkward, and it was throwing me off.
“How about we just go to the bathroom?” he said casually, glancing at his watch.
Fuck yeah. My cock twitched just thinking about it.
Was he a top? Bottom? Vers? I’m a top, but to be honest… as long as I wasn’t the one getting fucked, I didn’t mind playing around.
“My break starts in—”
“Hey, Frank!” someone called out.
“Hey, buddy,” he replied quickly before turning back to me. Frank, huh? Good to know. “I’ve got fifteen minutes. Let’s go.”
Like a dog on a leash, I followed him through the crowd until we slipped into the bathroom.
It was empty. Just a row of urinals and a few graffiti-covered stalls. He led us into one, holding the door open for me before stepping in himself and locking it behind us.
I didn’t waste a second. I grabbed his face and smashed my lips to his, tongue sliding in deep while his hands gripped my waist.
“So… top or bottom?” I asked, already hard, my cock straining against my jeans.
“Top,” he growled, voice thick with lust.
Fuck. Just my luck. Well, better a top than no action at all.
“Turn around,” he ordered, his hand sliding down to rub at the bulge in his pants.
“Oh, no, man — I’m top too,” I said quickly. Taking it up the ass wasn’t on my to-do list tonight.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna fuck you.”
“Then what?”
“It’s a surprise.”
The alcohol buzzed in my head. Normally, I’d never go along with this, but tonight? Why not? What was the worst that could happen by letting another guy explore me a little?
So I turned around, bracing myself against the filthy stall wall and arching my ass out for him. I’ve been told plenty of times that I’ve got a nice ass, and right then I was glad to show it off.
His hand slid over it, firm, possessive. He squeezed it hard.
“Well, it’s all yours,” I told him.
“I know.”
He unbuttoned my jeans and tugged them down. Then he dropped to his knees, pressing his face against my ass.
No way. Was he really about to… eat out a stranger he’d just met in a bar?
His nose rubbed up and down the curve of my ass, a strange but not unpleasant feeling. Just as I reached down to stroke my cock, I felt his hand wrap around it — while his lips pressed firmly against my hole.
His tongue slid out and dragged slowly up and down my crack. My legs trembled, knees shaking when that wet, hot tongue pressed against my entrance. He licked over it and I didn’t bother holding my moans back — I whimpered like a bitch while he worked his tongue on my little unused hole.
I tried to relax. As weird as it felt, there was no denying the truth: my cock was rock-hard, leaking, and I was enjoying every second of it. His hand stroked me in time with the steady rhythm of his tongue, pumping my dick as he devoured my ass.
Finally, his tongue slipped inside me. I groaned, louder this time, the sound thankfully drowned by the music thundering from the bar outside.
When he felt me loosen up, he slid a finger in. I’d fingered myself before and never liked it — but letting this hot bartender do it? Different story. It still felt uncomfortably tight at first, his finger pushing in and out of me.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Mhm,” I breathed, biting my lip.
He slid in another finger, stretching me wider. The discomfort faded bit by bit, and then—
Fuck. He found it.
The moment his fingers brushed my prostate, I gasped, a needy whimper spilling out of me. When he realized he’d hit the spot, I could practically feel the smug smirk on his face as he kept pressing against it, rubbing, teasing, making me squirm for him.
By the time he pulled his fingers out, I was shaking. He stood, fished a condom from his pocket — dark pink, though maybe the club lighting made it look that way — and tore it open. I watched as he rolled it down his cock, then spat on it and pressed the tip to my hole.
I guess he changed his mind about not fucking me. He’s not the only one though. Maybe I’m not that top after all…
“Fuck,” I muttered, bracing myself against the stall wall. I hadn’t taken anything bigger than two fingers before, and now this stranger was about to shove a thick cock inside me.
He pushed in slowly. My whole body clenched, the stretch almost unbearable.
“You okay?” he asked again, voice tight.
I could only nod, gripping the wall for dear life.
He started moving, sliding in and out, at first only half his length. He angled himself, searching, and then—
Oh damn.
The second he found my prostate, my body lit up. Pleasure crashed through me in waves I couldn’t even put into words. It was like being taken to the sky and back again, over and over, higher than any drug or drink could ever take me.
He let go of my cock, and I took over, jerking myself as he pounded me, each thrust deeper than the last. His pace built steadily, relentless, grinding against that sweet spot until my legs nearly gave out.
He leaned down, kissing at my neck while he drove into me. Even the pain — the raw ache of being stretched wide — twisted into something good, something addictive. Getting used like this by him, bred by this fucking bartender, felt incredible.
His balls slapped against me with every thrust, the sound filthy in the quiet stall. My cock was dripping precum nonstop, wetting my hand, my fingers slick as I stroked furiously in time with his thrusts.
I couldn’t hold it. The orgasm ripped out of me hard, my cum splattering across the graffiti-stained wall in front of me. I moaned into the stall as my body shook, clenching down on him while he pounded me harder, breath ragged.
He slammed in one last time, deep, shuddering as his cock twitched inside me. I remembered at the last second — the condom. He was filling it, not me, but still… I felt the emptiness when he pulled out. My whole body sagged against the wall, trembling and sore.
He tugged the condom off, tied it, and tossed it into the toilet without flushing.
“You’re not gonna flush that?” I asked, panting.
“Nah. I like when people see it and figure out what went down here.”
And just like that, he left. No goodbye. No number. Nothing.
Like I was nothing to him.
But to me? He was unforgettable. The first man I ever submitted to.
The next morning my ass was sore — but it sure as hell wasn’t the last time I craved a cock up there.
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