The last time I was in DC I decided to check out a gay bar I'd found online. The reviews were kind of mixed, so I wasn't too sure what to expect, but I figured I'd have one drink, get a feel for the place, and if I didn't like it I could always leave. As far as the reviews went, there were a few that called the place a dive, and a couple mentioned unpleasant odors. On the other hand, several reviewers mentioned strong drinks, fairly cheap, and a friendly crowd.
They also said there were two floors, with the first floor patrons being mostly older men - trolls, as one sweetheart put it. That's OK, I'm not really into twinks either, for whatever that's worth. The second floor was more lively, and attracted mostly black and latino men of all ages. So, on the first floor I would fit right in. On the second floor I'd stick out like a sore thumb, but that might be OK too.
I got there in time for Happy Hour, around 4:00, took a seat at the first floor bar, and ordered a gin and tonic. While the bartender was getting my drink I looked around, getting a feel for the place. Mostly white guys in their forties or fifties, a few over sixty. My people! My drink came, and the reviews were right on. Heavy on the gin, easy on the tonic. Not complaining, especially when the bartender only charged me four bucks. Christ, a guy could get seriously fucked up here if he wasn't careful!
I was just getting settled in when a guy pulled out the stool next to me. "You mind?"
"Not at all," I answered, "it's all yours."
I took the opportunity to look him over, and I liked what I saw. Young black guy, early thirties I'd guess, athletic body, pretty good looking. "Damon," he said, offering his hand.
I shook with him, started to give my real name, then changed my mind. "Just call me BJ," I said.
He nodded his head, gave me sort of a double take. "Easy to remember."
We made small talk, commented on the other guys in the room, the weather, the bar upstairs, your basic bullshit. I had almost finished my drink when Damon said, "Care to show me why you told me to call you BJ?"
He took me by surprise, and I almost turned him down. But that gin and tonic was really strong, my resistance was pretty low anyway, and Damon was looking pretty darn good to me about then.
"Sure," I said. "Where?"
"Come on upstairs, I'll show you around," he said. "There's a room up there we can use."
With Damon leading the way, we went up a narrow flight of stairs to a small landing, then turned left and went up a second flight. At the top there was a small room, like a waiting area, and the door to the upstairs bar was closed. I figured there would be a security guy there later, checking IDs and weeding out any known troublemakers or guys who were already too drunk.
Damon pushed open the door and a wave of loud music came pouring out. Bob Marley I think, definitely reggae. We went in and Damon waved to the bartender and a couple of guys he recognized. There was a distinct aroma in the air, but it wasn't offensive at all. I'm no pothead, but I know the smell of weed. Nothing like a little ganja to go with the reggae music.
I followed Damon into the room, and noticed several video monitors showing gay porn. The patrons were mostly black, younger than the crowd downstairs, and there was a definite party atmosphere. Damon gave me what he called the nickel tour, then showed me to what I assumed was going to be the back room. Not exactly. There was a little hallway, and several doors with lights over them, like a video arcade. Number eight was vacant, so Damon opened the door and motioned me inside, then followed me in and locked the door behind him.
The furnishings were pretty basic: a small couch and matching chair that looked like they were meant to be outdoor furniture, a side table holding a basket of condoms and a couple of bottles of lube, a cheap rug that had seen better days. That's it.
Damon put both hands on my shoulders and pushed me to my knees in front of him. Not that he forced me, he was just showing me what he wanted. He pulled his pants and underwear down in one quick motion, then pulled the shirt over his head. His cock was right in front of my face, already hard, and it looked beautiful. Not the biggest I ever saw, but big enough, seven inches or so, maybe closer to eight, hard as a rock, already leaking a little precum.
I reached out and wrapped my fingers around the shaft, gave a few gentle tugs, then leaned in for a taste. There was a good bit of precum, and I licked it all up eagerly. There was almost no taste at first, then I began to get it, very subtle, just a hint of what I had to look forward to. I took the head of his cock into my mouth and sucked it gently, getting warmed up.
"Yeah, that feels good," Damon said. "Take it a little deeper now. Not too fast, take your time. I might not last too long, just so you know. I've been hard off and on all day."
I slid my lips up and down the shaft, going a little deeper each time, until I was ready to see if I could take it all. I worked up a mouthful of saliva and ran my lips down over Damon's cock, nice and easy, not stopping until I touched bottom and my lips were surrounded by pubic hair.
"Fuck, man, that really feels great. Careful, I'm getting pretty close. You want me to cum in your mouth, right?"
I made a sound like "Mm-hmmm," nodded my head, and kept sucking. I took his balls in the palm of my hand and massaged them lightly, imagining them filling with cum.
"Yeah, just like that," Damon said, "don't stop. Shit man, here it comes, get ready. Oh fuck yeah, fuck, suck me baby, suck me!"
I felt his cock pulsating in my hand first, then between my lips, and he began shooting a big juicy load into my mouth. There were six or seven powerful spurts, and a few weaker ones. I kept the head of his cock in my mouth and ran my hand up and down the shaft, trying to milk out every drop he had to offer. I loosened my lips and let some of his cum leak out onto his cock and balls, swallowing the rest as fast as I could. When he was finished, I licked up all the cum I had spilled, then took his cock in my mouth again.
