Compliments Matter

The muscular man walked into the bar. It was still happy hour. He loosened his tie. He'd left the suit coat in the work truck. He was tired from a long day, one in which he was passed over for a promotion by a less qualified woman. He took a seat and waited for the bartender to come over.

Just a few hours later he was banging the shit out of a 20 year-old pussyboy.

"Oh my god, Mr. Mullins! Fuck me," the twink whined.

"Yeah, boi! Take this cock," barked the man.

He thrust his 7-inch-by-6¾-inch dick into the raven-haired emo boi with the wispy haircut.

The sissy cried out, "Oh my god! I always wanted this!"

"It's yours now," he huffed as he plowed.

The man wondered how he got here in this small apartment fucking a dude. He was straight. Always had been. Damn. He kept thrusting.

"Yes, sir! Fuck me, daddy!"

The answer would be evident to anyone who had been watching at the bar.

"Oh my god," the bartender had beamed. "Mr. Mullins."

The customer looked up. His brown eyes were wide. "Pip," he asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, sir! It's me," mused the waifish server.

"You're the bartender?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Really? But you're only..."

"You only have to be nineteen here in Idaho," declared the blue-eyed twink.

"Oh okay!"

"So what can I get you," Pip inquired, gesturing flamboyantly.

"Whiskey neat. Thanks!"

"Coming right up. May I start you a tab, Mr. Mullins?"

"Sure," the man pulled out his wallet.

"Thank you, sir. I'll be right back."

Pip came back with the glass and handed the card back to Mr. Mullins. "So how are things?"

"Good," said the tired businessman. "I haven't seen you since Lizzie went off to K-U. What have you been up to?"

"I'm here at Boise State."

"Good for you," the sales manager smiled.

"Yes, I love it."

"I had no idea."

"Well I snapchat with Lizzie all the time. She's great."

"That's awesome," he felt a tinge of jealousy. "How do you like school?"

"It's fabulous, Mr. Mullins," Pip flailed his arms.

"Call me, Jim," the square-jawed graying blond said.

"Okay, Jim," giggled Pip. "It's fabulous. I came out."

"Huh?"

"I came out of the closet. To my mom and dad!"

"Oh?"

"Yeah. They were great about it," the bartender leaned on the counter. "My dad said he had three other sons to carry on the name and my mom was thrilled to have a shopping partner - though I don't have the same taste."

"Wow!"

"I know, right. I'll be right back. Jim," he emphasized.

Jim Mullins watched the 20 year-old switch away. He shook his head and downed his beverage in one swig. He was somewhat shocked, but not completely. Pip had always been a bit strange in his opinion. He figured it was fine.

The place began to fill up.

A broad, stocky, ruddy fellow grabbed the seat next to Jim. "Hey, brother!"

"Hey," Jim offered cautiously.

"Good place?"

"Yeah! I don't usually come here."

"Why not?"

"I usually just have a beer at home."

"Long day, brother?"

"Kinda."

"I understand. It ain't easy for us. I'm Doug," he extended his hand.

"Jim," the man shook back with a tight grip.

"I see you suit!"

"Huh?"

"I'm a construction guy. You're a suit. I ain't mad at ya."

"Where are you from?"

"Kentucky. Bluegrass State!"

"Welcome to Idaho!"

Pip appeared. "Hey there! I'm Pip Can I help you. I'll get you another in a sec, Jim."

"I'm Doug. I want whatever he's having and put it all on my tab," the big spender took out a credit card.

"Sure thing," Pip smiled.

"You didn't have to," Jim started.

"It's cool. I'm writing it all off," confessed Doug.

When Pip came back with the drinks, he said, "Here you go. So where are you from Doug?"

"I was telling Jim here I'm from the Bluegrass State."

"Awesome," Pip looked blankly.

"Do you know Jim well or do you just remember all names easy?"

"Actually...May I Mister...I mean Jim?"

"Pip and my daughter were good friends in high school," the married man explained.

"And the plot thickens," Doug chuckled.

"Well we still are friends," Pip smiled, baring all thirty-two teeth.

"This is true," added Jim. "Apparently she keeps him informed through social media of her life."

"I see, pops," Doug said. "She only calls dear ol' dad for cash."

"You know it," Jim confirmed.

"Well, fellas! One of you should try this new cocktail I'm trying to recreate," Pip pleaded.

"We'll take two," Doug professed. "My tab! All this on my tab,"

"Even my drinks," Jim was struck weird.

"Yep," the honorary Kentucky Colonel said.

"I'll be right back," Pip explained.

"So, gentlemen. This has bourbon, lime juice, simple syrup, and Angostura Bitters," Pip set the glasses in front of them.

"Yee-haw," howled Doug.

"Good stuff," the more reserved Jim agreed.

"Glad you like, Mr. Mullins. I'm sorry, I'm glad you guys like," the bartender corrected himself.

Pip walked away.

Doug leaned closer to Jim. "That boi is totally into you. You down or not?"

"Huh," Jim creased his brow.

"You heard me, Pip there wants some daddy cock."

"You're crazy. Thanks for the drinks, but I'm gonna..."

"Wait! I know you ain't gay. I get it. I'm straight as a board too," Doug shared. "But I may or may have or may have not fucked a few before. I don't recall. They like big strong men like us. They live for us to plow their brains out."

"You're crazy," shot back Jim.

"Not sayin' you're into it. Just saying I'd fuck that hot piece of ass!" Doug shook his head. "Barkeep," he yelled.

Pip came over.

"Close me out," Doug said.

At the end of the interaction the Kentucky Colonel left a twenty dollar tip.

Pip scooped it up with joy. "You want another, Mr. Mullins. I'm off soon. Just letting you know."

"I have something to ask you. Lean close!"

"Yes, sir?"

"That dude said you're into me. Why would he say that?"

"Cause you're a sexy bear of a man. Rough looking. Most handsome guy I know."

"Bear?"

"Hairy bigger dude," Pip clarified.

"He said straight dudes fuck bois like you."

"It's true."

"You think I'm handsome?"

"Sure do!"

"No one has told me that in ages."

"Well, they must be blind, Mr. Mullins. Like another?"

"Yeah! One of those cocktails you made before," Jim stated.

"Coming right up," smiled Pip.

Jim examined the thin, svelte boi sashay away. He wondered about how a straight man might enjoy a boi like Pip.

The bartender returned.

Jim asked, "When do you get off?"

"Five more mins."

"Close out my tab!"

"Doug took care of it all. This last drink was on the house."

"Let me tip you then," Jim grabbed his wallet. "How much?"

"I can't answer that. It's whatever you choose, Mr. Mullins," Pip leaned closer hoping for a hefty wad of cash.

Jim wallowed hard when Pip gave him the drink.

"Could I...," Jim started.

And that was the end of it. Now this totally straight White dude was banging the shit out of the emo boi."

"Fuck my ass, Mr. Mullins," whined Pip.

Jim slammed his large body all the way up and back into the sissy repeatedly. "Damn! I'm fucking a boi!"

"Yes you are, Mr. Mullins! Fuck me! It's our secret you big bear of a man!"

Jim slayed the hole until he nutted and had to go home to his wife.