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This is more than a bit different than what you usually read on nifty, but you may identify with it, I do.
I just pulled into the parking lot of the Corral, a leather/western gay bar. We don't have many choices in this town, only three. This one meets my needs. One of the other's, Rainbows, caters to faggy twinks, definitely not my style. The other is Butches. In my mind Dykes and Fags just don't mix, but they do a good business. The Corral is the only one that has a patio, and I don't mean hamburgers on the grill,
(Which they actually have on weekends in the summer for lunch, a nice buffet until you find something more interesting to eat.)
No buffet today, late August and starting to get dark. I was just locking up my Ford F150 (supposedly the vehicle owned most by millionaires. Not me, I won't even own this one for another two years.) when a jet-black Dodge Viper convertible pulled in. Those cars could get a speeding ticket sitting in your driveway.
The driver was in his mid-twenties, wearing expensive designer jeans (Like $200 or more, $50 Levi 501's is my style.) and the rest was designer from shoes to shirt, straight out of GQ with the price tag to match, I'm sure. He had a nice bump in his crotch. He was buff as hell, and very pretty. No man around here wouldn't notice him.
We entered the bar together, he politely held the door for the older man, like 35 is older!
He sat at the bar, I sat with an old friend, Nate, at a table, but couldn't keep my eyes off him. After a while I told Nate II was going to try to make a new friend. "Good luck," he said, "tell me how it goes."
I walked up to the young man at the bar, put my hand on his shoulders and massaged his traps (trapezoids, neck and shoulder muscles,) very firm and well developed.
"That feels awfully damn good, whoever you are."
"Mind if I sit here."
"I would if you didn't," he replied.
"Jason Mabry," I said putting out my hand.
"Chico Ames," he said taking my hand.
"Chico?" you don't look Hispanic.
"I'm not, it's actually Charles, but I don't like Chuck."
I signaled the bar man to refresh our drinks.
"Never saw you here before,"
"I used to go to Butches." I grimaced. "But got tired of it, a guy gave me a heads-up on here."
"Do you want to go outside and enjoy these," I said?
"Don't know what you mean, Jason."
"You will." I put my hand firmly in his crotch.
"Wish you hadn't done that."
"Why?"
"Because I'm packing," he said.
"Are you an FTM trannie?" (Let them be who they want to be, I don't care, but when I want a man, I want a real cock in his pants.)
"No, but there's not much of a real me in there. Hasn't changed at all since I was thirteen. In high school most of us showered after gym in jockstraps, some big guys used to drop them. You don't know what hurts until a wet jock waist band gets snapped on your butt. Sounds gay, but we did it all the time."
"And what do you think the other boys had in their Jocks?'
"Don't know, but wasn't willing to show and find out."
"Take your shirt off," I said.
"Here, now?"
"Yup, happens all the time. Isn't a man in here, barkeep included, who hasn't checked out your body."
"I guess I will if you will." I lost my shirt in three seconds.
"Oh, are you a hairy bear!"
"Technically I'm not a bear, Chico. Bears are bigger, harrier, and usually a little chubby. In gay land I'm an otter, an extra furry one but not a bear."
"Can I touch," he asked.
"Wish you would!" I said.
"I've never touched another man's body before."
"I can tell, we've got to work on that," I answered.
"You're a little over dressed, Chico. We agreed."
He stripped his shirt off. The gasps were audible, and the envy was penetrating, but he was mine! Just damn, what a body!
Men's nipples are as variable as their cocks, the major difference is whether their nipples stick out or lay flat. Mine always stick out, toyed with or not. Chico's chest was flat, but that was going to change. His areolas are dark pinkish brown and about the size of nickels. Once played with he popped buttons that were nice sized.
"What are you doing?"
"Shut up, Chico, and let me play," I said while sucking on them. He held my head to his chest. I toyed with his nipples with my tongue and a bit of gentle tooth action.
"Damn, Jason! No one ever did that."
"I have feeling no one ever did anything for you Chico, that's going to change really fast, grab your shirt and follow me."
We went out on the patio. I sat at a picnic table, played with his chest and abs, then started to undo his jeans.
"What are you doing?"
"What I want to do, Chico."
I opened his jeans and dropped them. He was shaking. I started to drop his briefs and he said, "No, Jason, don't." He grabbed his waist band and said "No!'
"Let go or I'll just rip them off!" He had a perfectly average cock, nothing to be embarrassed about.
I grabbed his balls and began to suck on his cock. He plumped right up. Cut, nicely thick, five and a half inches of pretty prime man meat, a nice fat head, a perfect mouthful. I sucked on his cock head for a while then slowly went down his shaft. He was totally smooth and straight, no obvious veins. I picked up my pace.
"Oh shit, Jason, no. No one's ever done that either!"
"Never."
"No."
"Chico, you've got a lot to learn." I didn't intend to be done, but Chico was.
"Get naked and walk around out here, it's done. There isn't a man out here who wouldn't be on your cock in a half minute."
"I couldn't, Jason it's so small."
`How many cocks have you seen Chico?"
"None, but in porn mags. I don't even look at urinals."
"Mags don't count; and at urinals you should."
I stood up and dropped my jeans. "This isn't any bigger than yours, Chico, and it's made me happy for a lot of years. Go ahead and touch it." He did, then kissed it, pulled his jeans up and ran off to the bathroom.
"Where is he?" said Nate.
"He's in the john, crying I think."
"No, I didn't hurt him, far from it; but I don't want to be here when he comes out."
I said good bye to Nate, kissed him and left. "Explain later."
Haven't been back in almost two months, just too fucking damn busy.
The viper was parked outside when I pulled in. Chico was at the bar. I walked up behind him and was not so subtle this time, "Where's your piece." "Tossed it. I know that's you're Jason."
"How?"
"Your smell."
"I've been in here for seven Fridays."
"Made any friends?"
"Only one, you."
"Do you still have my shirt?"
"Yes, I'm wearing it, do you want it back?"
"No, keep it."
The bar keep gave me a beer, I never have to order here, then Chico said, "Are you hungry?"
"For what?"
"Dinner, not cock, you pig! You can drive the viper." I couldn't refuse that.
As we left, a truck dropped a biker.
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah, If you don't know how to drop one of these you shouldn't be riding one. I'm Mike." We introduced ourselves.
"Are you coming or going"
Well neither, I said, since our cocks are in our pants.
"Arriving or leaving?"
"Leaving."
"Maybe later," Mike said.
The GPS directed us.
"Holy shit, Chico, this is Alphonse!"
I'd never even considered eating here. "We can't go in there dressed like this."
Chico got out of the car, stripped his shirt off and started to drop his pants. "We could go in naked."
"What the fuck are you doing, put your clothes back on. Do you have reservations, look at that damn line?"
"Don't need them, never do."
The valet came and said "I'll take care of black beauty, as always, Mr. Ames."
We were escorted immediately to a small private dining room. The menu was all in French, no prices (if you care about the price, you don't come to Alphonse.) Chico ordered without even looking at the menu. The best meal I've ever had in my whole life.
"Ready to go?" Chico said.
"No check?"
"Already taken care of."
"How fucking wealthy are you?" I asked.
"Enough."
"Do Corral and see if Mike wants to play?"
Chico answered, "Yes and no. Yes, someday; no not today."
"Then what?"
you want to go back to the
"You told me two months ago I had a lot to learn. You.ve got a weekend to teach me."
I you liked this story, I'd like to hear from you. If you didn't, I need to.