My sincere thanks to LoveScribe62 for their light but highly effective touch in editing my very amateur fiction. This story leans into my interest in humuliation and verbal abuse and may use words that some may find triggering. The fact that these words turn me on is something I'm attempting to wrap my head around. I'll likely continue to explore this in future stories.
I was back in NOLA and back in the Phoenix upstairs bar.
The scene had diminished a lot since my last trip. A crackdown by the city's fathers on the city's Daddies forced an uncharacteristic discretion on the goings on within the dark confines of the upstairs bar. But fun was still on tap.
I was on a stool chatting up the bar back and sharing some of my experiences. Another patron listened and had questions and an obvious degree of interest. Memory, of my past experiences here, the lingering smell of sex that would pervade the air here until the day the place was demolished, and the overwhelmingly horny atmosphere combined to make me pleasantly hard.
When I reminisced about sucking off a stranger during my last visit, Tony, the bartender said he missed the days when he could take a break to plunge his cock into the mouth of a willing cocksucker and never have to step away from the bar. He asked for details about the size of the dick that I'd brought to orgasm, and I gladly described its length and girth. Tony pointed to a man on another stool and said my description didn't sound nearly as large as Ronnie.
I long ago got past feeling shy or awkward if sex was available. I said I'd have to look at Ronnie's cock to see how it compared. Since open sex in the bar was no longer allowed, Tony said I should follow Ronnie to the bathroom. Ronnie smiled and stood up. He was tall and scruffy looking. He gave off a confident kind of redneck energy and I could already see a big stiff piece of something in his jeans.
We went to the bathroom around the corner and two other men who I hadn't been introduced to came with us.
