The Kid at the Bar Part 1 By: Botpuppy @aol.com
I saw him as soon as he came in. He stood against the wall behind the bar, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, and standing with his legs spread a little wider than normal. The jeans were a snug fit, expensive, and seemed to be molded to his body. He stood with his hips thrust forward slightly, emphasizing the tantalizing bulge between his legs. He wore a sleeveless tee, and as he reached an arm behind his head to smooth his hair, the black crop of hair in his armpit drew my attention. He was obviously an athlete, and the slight tension of his movement caused his bicep to swell enough to get my attention. I knew right away that he was what I needed.
I had been thinking about guys a lot lately. I had never had a homosexual experience, although I've fantasized about it, forever it seems. I hoped that tonight would change all that, and he would be the one.
Jack tells this part
I was horny tonight and wanted to try somebody new. I saw this kid sitting at the bar as I stood behind the bar scanning the crowd. Trim build, kinda cute, and nervous about something. When I flashed my pit and bicep, he stared, almost gulping. I looked at him with a half smirk to let him know I had seen him and he quickly dropped his eyes, then pretended to look around at the other guys at the bar.
I had him figured out in a flash. Inexperienced confused about his sexuality, slightly nervous about being in a gay bar, just what I was looking for tonight.
As for me, I never had any doubt about my sexuality. I was distinctly gay in spite of the fact that I was always a jock, with a body that made other guys envious. I've been into gymnastics since high school, thanks to an alumnus of a private prep school in Manhattan, who got me an interview with the gymnastics coach. I didn't even know what gymnastics was until he showed me the exercise room. Now the pommel horses, parallel bars, and rings were a part of me, along with the callused hands and all over body development that comes with mastering the sport.
As usual when I was out on the prowl, I wore no briefs that night, and did wear a cock strap, which caused my balls to sit up higher for my dick to rest on. I saw that it wasn't wasted on the kid, since every time he glanced at me, he quickly lowered his eyes to my crotch.
The TV was showing a tape of our meet last night. The local station provided coverage of all the sporting events since the college's teams were a big favorite throughout the area.
The kid's eyes kept returning to me, always with a quick glance, as if he were just looking around the bar. He wanted it bad, and I was going to give it to him, but he was going to have to come to me to get it. It would be tough for him to do, but soon his desire would overcome his fear of rejection and the humiliation involved in coming on to a stranger in a bar that these first timers always felt. I wondered how he was going to pull it off when I noticed him calling for the bartender.
The bartender looked over at me, the kid nodded, and then the barkeep told me that that guy, gesturing toward my kid, wanted to buy me a drink. I ordered a Black Jack neat and, nodding to the kid threw it back and told the bartender to hit me again. As he was pouring, I fingered the Marlboro from behind my ear. As I looked around for a light, there was the kid at my side holding a lit match. His hand trembled, and as I bent toward it, the match burned down and the kid shook his hand free to avoid getting burned some more.
He lit another match and this time I held his hand to steady it as I inhaled. Since I seldom smoke during the season, I had to resist the impulse to choke. I took a deep drag and lifted my head to exhale. "Thanks, kid"; I nodded at him, using that greeting to establish from the start what our roles were going to be. I downed the second shot, and turned back to the kid, extending my hand, "name's Jack." His smooth hand seemed lost in my callused paw and he winced slightly at my firm grip. "You're welcome, Jack, I'm Mark. I'm a freshman, and I see you around campus all the time."
I let his remark pass and moved in closer to him, invading his space arrogantly and easing him back against the wall. I looked down into his eyes and placed my hand on the wall above his head so that my armpit was in his face. As I crushed him into the wall I felt his hard dick on my leg, and mine thrust against his abs through the denim of my jeans and the cotton of his tee. I knew that he got a good idea of the cock behind my jeans from the lustful look in his eyes and the way he was taking short little breaths.
By now I knew that he was worried about surrendering himself this way. Kids like him want it but they always seem to cling to some idea of maintaining their dignity and control. That would change soon enough. As for an audience, they get over that too. I decided to go a little easy on him and steered him over to a dark corner, to ease his fear of being seen like this in a public place, and got in close again. "How you feeling, Mark? Go ahead, stick out your tongue and taste me." Soon his tongue was flicking at my pit.
I took his hand, which was still shaking a little, and placed it in my crotch. Then I released my grip, but he hesitated, his lower lip trembling. "Go ahead, you want it and I know you want it, so do it. Fondle my balls, then trace along my cock with your finger" My dick stiffened some as I felt his little hand on me.
I turned away slightly as the TV showed a shot of me dismounting the horse and taking a bow to the applause. The camera was on me as I was in profile signing the score sheet, showing me with a hardon in my singlet. The announcer was saying, "And the winner of the pommel competition is Jack Collins with a near perfect 9.7, the new league record.
The kid was starting to get into it but he looked at me, then the TV, "Hey, you're Jack Collins, gee! No wonder you looked so familiar."
"Yea, kid, none other. Now follow me", and I walked to the men's room. He got really tense as I unzipped and fished out my dick in front of the urinal. "Hold my dick while I piss, kid, and try not to get me any harder for now." He took me into his hand, and I let the stream go. As the flow eased to a trickle, I eased him down toward my crotch. "Lick off those last drops for me Mark, so I don't stain my jeans", and I felt his tongue on my dick head.
"I like you, kid, here's a little gift to remember me by", and I unbuckled my cock strap, and put it on his wrist. "Now you can tell your buddies that you're tight with Jack Collins."
All this time, I was worried that he was going to piss himself for fear of being caught like this in the men's room of a gay bar. "Let's go, kid, I'll give you a ride back to campus", and he followed me out of the bar.