Birthday Bottom Boy's Blackout Bar-night
From Create Your Own Story
This is a gay erotic story involving homosexual male characters and explicit sexual acts. It is fantasy, not reality. You have been warned!
Stepping into the bar for the first time is a bit daunting, but with your ID in hand, and the knowledge that you are, in fact, legally allowed to be here, you find yourself forking over the five bucks to get in eagerly enough.
“You’re new,” the bouncer says. He’s a big guy – all chest and arms, with just the start of a beer gut under his tight black t-shirt. His head is shaved. He looks for all the world like Mr. Clean’s meaner brother. He takes your five, then says, “ID?”
You show it proudly. “It’s my birthday.”
“Nice,” he says, and winks at you in a way that sends your stomach rolling in on itself, but other people are trying to get in, and the hot bouncer is a busy guy. You get your hand stamped, and step past him into the entrance.
You’ve never been to the Midtown Pub before, but the ad in the local gay newspaper had shown a shirtless beefy looking guy with a lot of chest hair, a great bulge in his jeans, and holding a beer bottle in his hand. Sold!
But this is your first time in a gay scene that isn’t made up of the young twink crowd. You feel a little like maybe you’re in the wrong place. Slim and fair, though you’re no flaming queer, you’re not the guy from the ad, either. He looked like he was from the cover of Construction Worker Weekly, or something. You look like you belong on the cover of a college application brochure. Sort of ‘young college kid done good.’ That you’d rather be sucking cock or spreading your legs doesn’t often come to mind when people see you, more’s the pity.
At any rate, this older crowd type of bear-and-leather bar is unexplored territory, and you’re a birthday boy hoping for a birthday present.
To your surprise, you catch a glimpse of another young fellow like yourself - but it's a passing glance as he's heading out the door in the opposite direction with a stocky guy. The young guy is blond, twinky, and laughing, and the older guy has one heavy hand on his shoulder. You smile, feeling a bit more relieved. Obviously, you're not about to be thrown out on principle.
Looking around the interior, you see stairs ahead to your right, leading up to the second floor. The ground floor bar is to your right – tables and chairs, and beyond that the bar itself and some pool tables in the rear. There’s also a short hallway leading to what you figure is the bathrooms, as well as the red glow of an exit sign.
While you stand there, considering, the bouncer leans over long enough to say, “Place is just getting warmed up, so you might want to hit the bar now, before the lines get too long.” Then he looks up at the stairs and adds, “and it’ll be dark before it gets fun up there.”
Dark? You think. It’s already dark out. But the bouncer is stamping the hand of a fortyish man in a wifebeater and jeans, who is arriving with three buddies. They’re all a little rough around the edges, and you feel your face heat up when he looks at you and smiles. His three buddies give you appraising glances as they pass by, too. The four head up the stairs.