With Mark, my stud's firm hand, grasping my shoulder assuredly, we descended down some dark steps and through a passageway into a dark area. There was music playing, and ahead of me I could make out a bar area. There was a menacingly cute guy, with shaved head and wearing just a white vest and some torn faded jeans behind the bar. Like all bartenders, he pretended to be busying himself behind the bar, but his piercing blue eyes stole up a glance at the two of us who had just walked in, first looking at Mark beside me, before his eyes settled on me, the prim little boy who had been led here by the stud next to me. His eyes seemed to survey me for a moment, before he looked away again.
Although it was dark, I could make out a few other guys milling about, though apart from the music in the background, it sure seemed quiet in here. Then out of the corner of my eye, I realised why Mark had brought me here. There, in the corner, though it was dark, I could just make out a head, a man's head, bobbing up and down in front of another man's crotch. He was giving him some head. Oh. I gulped. It was a bar like that.
Just then, I felt Mark's firm leather gloved hand moving down my back. When it got to the top of my jeans, it didn't stop. Instead it struggled its way inside the back of my jeans. And then inside of my underwear. His middle finger began to travel down the sweaty cleft between my butt cheeks and gently began to caress my hole right there as we stood by the bar. It felt... great.
"Two beers please."
The bartender's eyes looked up at the request from Mark's gruff voice. Just then, Mark's middle finger protruded a little more forcefully at my hole, and I squirmed and let out a totally involuntary whimper. The skinhead bartender's eyes flitted to me and after a brief moment he smirked to himself as he realised what was going on. I had this stud's hand down the back of my pants where he was casually fondling my arsehole while ordering us our drinks.
"You like it?" my stud whispered close in my ear.
I wasn't sure if he meant the place or the fact that he was caressing my bum hole through the back of my jeans. In any case he didn't really wait for an answer, instead withdrawing his leather gloved hand, and reaching around so it was now resting on my crotch. It was rock hard of course, betraying any notion that I might not be enjoying the semi-public fondling I had just been receiving.
And as the bartender placed two opened beer bottles on the bar in front of us, Mark started to absentmindedly undo the button at the top of my jeans, and pulled the zip down, so that my white undies were now exposed, barely concealing the engorged cock beneath them. The skinhead's eyes stared as Mark undid my jeans and bunched them down a touch, so that the top of my pubes and my bum were now exposed. I didn't look around, but I could sense a satisfied smirk on Mark's face as he did this, exposing me like this in front of this skinhead barman. Just then, Mark brought his gloved hand which had just been down my bum cheeks up in front of my face so it was centimetres away from my nose. Oh God. The smell of my arse and sweat was... intoxicating. I fucking loved it. And Mark seemed to realise I loved it too. He just left his hand there, that middle finger pointing up just in front of my nose. He expected me to suck it. And fuck, I couldn't help myself. The skinhead looked on. He wasn't even pretending to be busy now. His attention was all on me, as I succumbed to my instincts, closing my eyes and opening my mouth as I sucked on Mark's middle finger which had just been exploring my nether regions.
"Mmm... Good boy.." I heard my stud moan into my left ear as he kissed and nibbled at it while I wrapped my lips around first one finger, then another of his leather covered hand. Mark's other hand found its way underneath my polo shirt and began fondling at my left nipple as he caressed me like a slutty little whore in front of our skinhead onlooker. When I opened my eyes the skinhead's eyes were firmly locked on mine. He said nothing but one hand fondled at the now obvious bulge beneath his ripped jeans.
It was then I realised the skinhead was now not our only audience at this scene Mark had orchestrated. To the right of us, a black gentleman had become interested in what was going on in front of the bar. He wasn't wearing any shirt, and his muscled and fit body stood before me gleaming away in the dim light. He obviously was no stranger to the gym and had pecs to die for, with erect protruding nipples standing to attention like antennas.
I craned my neck and looked back at Mark whose fingers I was still sucking on, and he seemed to understand what I wanted without me speaking. He signalled his permission for me to suck on this black gentleman's nipples by pushing my head down towards them.
I licked and licked, savouring the sweat and dark skin with my lips and tongue...
**
I won't bore you with details of what happened next. To be honest I'm not really too sure what happened next. What I do remember is that the muscled black stud at some point pulled out his large cock. Or maybe it was me that pulled it out. I'm not entirely sure, see. Once you've entered into that kind of cock hungry mode, it's hard to tell. In any case, I remember sucking on his thick, long downward bending schlong. Yes, I remember that. And at some point, another man joined us. An older man, with silvery white hair and and goatie... silver fox looking you might say. To be honest he wasn't really what I had ever gone for in the past, but like I said, in that kind of mode, me now on my knees, polo shirt now over my head exposing my chest, with my jeans bunched round my ankles, my bum exposed, my cock exposed and erect, dripping pre cum so all could see how much I was secretly loving this... in that kind of mode, you don't refuse. Cock was offered, and I obligingly accepted. I was playing the role of eager cocksucker and to any observer, I imagine they would have to say that it fucking suited me. Bobbing from one cock to the next, and back again, my saliva dripping from all the action...
At one point, I remember thinking where had Mark, my own stud, gotten to? He had brought me here, he had set this scenario up, he imagined me here and now here I was sucking other men's cocks. I imagined and hoped that he was somewhere watching approvingly of my behaviour. After all, I was doing this for him. I mean, that's what I was telling myself in my head at least.
After a while the silver fox reached his climax, and with a series of grunts he unloaded a series of streaks of cummy gooeyness over my face, my chest, my shirt over my head... I think some went in my hair too. He was quickly replaced though by another man and the sucking frenzy went on.
At one point another young cocksucker joined me on my knees. He was younger than me, but more accomplished I deduced. He had obviously been to this place before and knew exactly what he was doing and what was expected of him, because he was totally stark naked except for the white socks and trainers on his feet. He obediently sucked on the cocks which had gathered now in a circle around us. And I followed his lead I guess. Some guys wanted to unload on us, while others preferred not to cum yet. When they felt they were getting too close, they would shove us off their cock, and we'd move onto the next.
We took turns trying to double team the large black bent cock of the stud on which I had commenced this mini sucking party. He made sure to reward both his eager cocksuckers with his seed, eventually shooting over my cheek and forehead, while my cocksucking friend managed to catch some in his waiting open mouth and on his nose. When I spotted a large gloop threatening to drop from his lower lip, I quickly intervened with my mouth, kissing the guy's sweet little lips and sharing our black stud's cream between our two mouths.
The scene of the two rapacious cocksuckers kissing on their knees must have tipped some of the other guys over the edge because I remember hearing more than one guttural moan and feeling more than one spray of semen hitting my back. I remember feeling it trickling slowly down my arched back and my cock twitching as it flowed down between my arse cheeks and over my now twitching hole.
**
At some point I decided I should be getting up. The crowd around us had now dwindled down a bit. My young cocksucking partner wasn't done yet however, and I left him contentedly sucking on a ginger haired man's short but girthy member, while I got up onto my feet. The floor was now particularly slippery with the copious amounts of cum that had been released. I guess I shouldn't have been proud of that, but for some reason I was, proud that I was at least partly responsible for all that cum on the floor...
As I pulled my jeans up I realised number one, what a cummy mess I myself was - there was cum still wet on my legs, on my bum, on my chest, my face, my hair... fuck it, everywhere, not to mention my jeans and polo shirt; and number two, miraculously I hadn't cum yet myself. My cock was still hard and pointing up towards the ceiling as I tried to stuff it back inside my tight fit jeans.
But I kind of didn't want to cum yet. I wondered where Mark was and was a little scared that he had realised what a slut I truly was deep in my heart, and that he had walked out leaving me there in disgust. I mean, he shouldn't have. He was the one who brought me here for fuck's sake. Fuck. I hoped I hadn't blown it. At what point was it one cock too many? I hoped he could forgive me.. But then again he should have protected me from all those men. I couldn't say no. If he didn't want me sucking them off, he should have warned them away.
A million questions raced through my head and I realised I needed to get to the bathroom if this place had one and clean myself off. Never mind Kim seeing me like this when I got home... I still had to make it home somehow. This place was at least a good five minute walk to the station. I couldn't leave here looking like this, dried cum on my face and hair, stains on my shirt and jeans, probably reeking of the stuff too.
I eventually found the bathrooms. It was just a small and fairly dingy looking excuse for a bathroom, but at least I could try and wash some of this jizz off my face with some soap and water. I opened the tap and began to try and wash my face and clean up a bit.
Just then, the door creaked and swung open. It was the skinhead barman from earlier. Fuck. How embarrassing. First he had witnessed me sucking my own arse juices from Mark's fingers, then God knows how much of the cocksucking orgy he had witnessed with me and my young friend just metres away from his bar, and now he had caught me trying to clean the cum of multiple men off my face in the bathrooms.
He stopped at the door and laid his steely gaze upon me once again. He was about my age and looked like he worked out some with a nicely defined but not huge upper body.
Embarrassed, I tried to break the tension.
"Um, um... I'm sorry for all that..." I said stupidly.
"Don't be. That's what this place is for," he replied calmly.
"Your first time?..." he continued, curious.
"Err... yes. That obvious?"
"No, not really. Just I've never seen you in here before."
I smiled meekly.
"You... cleaning up?" he went on.
Well, it was pretty fucking obvious I was trying to clean up. But, I guess he was just being polite, making small talk. And surprisingly, despite his menacing outward appearance, his voice was cool, calm and somewhat ... comforting? In any case, this conversation, if you can call it that, wasn't nearly as unpleasant as I imagined it should have been.
"Here, let me help you." He grabbed some paper towels and started to dab at my face with them.
"I hope you don't mind me coming in here. Just... well, that scene out there was pretty... wild."
"I guess... But you must see all sorts working here?" I said in response.
"Suppose.." he replied and continued wiping at my cheek and neck.
"I'm... I'm not supposed to, and I could get in trouble if my manager catches me, but... would you..."
I could see he was a little embarrassed, but I eagerly wanted him to ask whatever he was trying to ask.
"What?" I said, in my most accommodating tone of voice, trying not to scare him off.
"It's just, I've got this thing for... I mean, when I saw your friend playing with your arse like that when you came in earlier... I..."
"Yes?" I said, my eyes widening.
"Can... can I see that wild little bum of yours?"
I didn't say anything, but turned so my back was facing him, and undid my jeans again, and bunched them down so he could get a good look at my pale pert arse.
"Fuuck" he satisfyingly said to himself.
And with that he bent to his knees and prized apart my arse cheeks with his hands, first sniffing and whiffing away at my bum hole, then licking lightly with his tongue at my outer ring.
Instinctively, I let out a low long moan, and leaned further over the sink area, pushing my arse back into his face. He moaned too approvingly of my actions and continued to lap away, wetting my sweaty anal valley with his tongue and devouring away as his tongue pried and explored, going deeper in and out, in and out, in and out.
Fuck. I had come in here to try and clean up, and now here I was bent over the sink, with my new skinhead lover's head buried between my bum cheeks, both of us moaning openly in our wanton lust.
Again we both heard the door creak open, as someone entered the bathroom, but neither my skinhead nor I was perturbed and he continued eating my arse hungrily, while I continued moaning like a mare oblivious to our visitor. From the corner of my eye, I witnessed the bathroom's new occupant, pulling out his plump uncut cock and a stream of warm piss hitting the urinal, feet away from us, but neither of us paid him much attention. My focus was on the insane pleasures firing through my body directly from what this skinhead was doing to my arsehole.
Fuck it, I couldn't hold out any more, and I grabbed at my cock, struggling and tugging on it, whilst simultaneously trying to back my arse further and further into this skinhead's tongue. After all the action of that night, I wasn't going to last long. A deep well of jizz was building inside of me, and was going to explode soon enough. My breathing now was quick and heavy, in total ecstasy, and my skinhead lover seemed to realise this as he pushed my own hand away from my cock, instead reaching between my legs with his own hand and tugging madly away at my dick, all the while never missing a stroke with his tongue as it pistoned in and out of my bum hole.
"Uh... I... Fuck... I... Uhh... Fuck... Fuck... Fuuuuck" I screamed, as I felt it coming.
The skinhead responded expertly and knowingly, and sped up with his wanking and tongue fucking action, as my cock started to blow its load.
"Aaaahhhhh... Faaaaaaack"
Cum started spurting everywhere on the bathroom panels and bathroom floor beneath me. Splooges of the white sticky stuff dripped down leaving a gooey puddle beneath me, as my skinhead lover slowly milked my cock, trying to drain any remaining cum from deep within me.
I was totally spent. My skinhead got up from his knees and helped me up too.
"Thanks" he said, as he pulled my jeans up for me and sweetly did up the top button for me.
With that, he gave me a sweet kiss, us both savouring the scent of my male arse on his lips. Then he pulled out a pen and a scrap piece of paper from his jeans pocket, and started scribbling down his phone number.
"I'm David... I know you've already got someone, but if you ever want to do this again... here's my number."
And then, he turned and left. Just like that. Someone? Shit. He must be referring to Mark. Mark, my stud, who had brought me here, fondled me up in front of this skinhead, left me to suck on multiple big cocks, then left me to get my arse eaten out by the bathroom sinks. That Mark.
Fuck this, I thought. And I exited the bathroom, and the club, climbing the stairs out into the night sky... A million thoughts and questions raced through my mind over and over again. What had I done tonight? What about Mark, my stud? Where the fuck was he? And David? Should I see him again? And what ever the fuck was I going to do about Kim?? How was I going to explain all this away? Still, the most pertinent question at that moment was how the fuck was I going to get home? It was letting out time for the pubs and the main street and station would be packed with drunken people. Fuck, my work colleagues were supposed to be at a bar not far from here. What would one of them say if they saw me like this, with what were obviously multiple cum stains on my favourite polo shirt and skinny jeans?