CONTENT WARNING: This story is heavily nonconsensual and darker than my last few. It involves drug use, sexual assault, trauma and other sensitive topics. Please do not read this if you are uncomfortable.
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Saturday night at The Screw was always wild. The drinks were strong, the bass was heavy, and most importantly the guys were just my type. It doubled as a chill cocktail bar in the evening, but when the basement dance floor opened at midnight, that's when shit got real.
Unlike some of the twinkier clubs in the area, The Screw catered to bears, beards and muscle bound Daddies. You could still find the occasional smooth boy on the hunt, but it was generally a furry bunch.
I, of course, was in the twink camp and frequented with a likeminded group of friends. Easy to spot, we were all totally smooth--face, chest, everything--most of us naturally. We weren't into the leather scene like a lot of other patrons and instead opted to go shirtless in our basketball shorts. That night I was naughty and also went commando.
Even though this place was notoriously raunchy, I didn't necessarily go there to get fucked. Sure, I expected at least one dance floor makeout and maybe even a cheeky finger, but nothing tooooo crazy. But by 1AM, when the crowd was hot and heavy, those puritan ideals no longer seemed realistic.
I'd taken ecstasy to ramp up my night (sue me) and was starting to feel it. My blood simmered as flashing lights burned still images of the sweating bodies around me. The energy was chaotic but sexual, the DJ perfectly in tune with our collective libido. We were all on something and he controlled us like puppets through his hypnotic techno beat. One big wave of touching, groping, kissing, grinding.....
"Oliver! Hey, Oli! Earth to Oli!!!"
"Huh... W-what...?"
I was momentarily ripped out of the trance by my friend Jesse.
"Oli! Yo! Oli!"
"Yeah, yeah! What?"
We were both screaming to hear each other over the blaring bass.
"I think that guy's checking you out!"
"What!"
"I said I think that guy's checking you out!! And he's really cute!"
I could barely understand him so he just turned me around and pushed, and when I stumbled forward a huge guy caught me.
"Sup."
"Oh! Uhhhh..."
I looked up and he was seriously my type. Taller than my 6'2", older than my 28, and of course hairier than my smooth ass. It finally clicked what my friend was saying and I blushed.
"H-hi... I'm Oliver."
I stuck my hand out like an idiot but he brought me into a close hug.
"Clyde."
I didn't know what to do but "Clyde" took the lead and started grinding his body up against mine. With his arms around me there was nowhere to go so I grinded back on him, and soon we had a nice rhythm going. The drugs had warped my sense of time, but in reality it had only been about two minutes since I was ripped out of the trance. But now I was comfortable again, streamlined right back in, this time with a big man to guide me.
Clyde had the right moves to turn me on. Never getting too excited, he stayed masculine and collected while controlling our hips to the beat. My slim body was tight up against him, undulating, putting on a show for the men around us. I've always been an exhibitionist and as one of the few smooth guys it was fun to feel unique. Most dudes weren't even into that here, but the ones who were loved it.
My eyes closed and truthfully I couldn't even keep them open. I felt so good, like I was awake, asleep and on another planet all at the same time. And on top of that I was SO fucking horny! My skin sizzled as Clyde swayed my hips and rubbed my back.
I noticed how hard I was, then how hard he was! Evidently also commando, I could see the outline of his big tip through his basketball shorts. That really got me hot, knowing I'd turned him on, so I ground even more provocatively against him.
Clyde slipped his hand down my shorts in response and felt around my plump butt. I looked up at him and he met my gaze very coolly before kissing me hard. The kiss was overwhelming and his coarse beard tore my face up. He used his other hand to hold my head still while vigorously exploring my mouth and ass.
"Smooth. Good," he approved while sliding up my crack. It was the only other thing he'd said.
I blushed again as this stoic man took his liberties with me, pulling apart my cheeks to gain access to my tight pink hole. My face was buried in his hairy chest, his hands all over my butt as I danced to the thumping techno.
He pushed his thick finger against my dry hole and burrowed the nail in. It felt so incredible to finally be broken into, to feel my anus--my true source of pleasure--opening. It felt like the beginning of an infinite orgasm, yet it was only his nail!!
While grinding, Clyde brought his hand up to my mouth and shoved two fingers in. I was surprised by his rough treatment because we'd only just met, but he really jammed them in there! Then he stayed deep while I forcibly wetted them, gagging me the whole time, wiggling his fingers. When he finally released I let out an embarrassed cough and looked to the floor.
I figured he was too high to realize how harsh he was being, but it was a little unnerving. I REALLY didn't want to lose my sexy dance partner though so I let it slide. And to be honest.... My dick was ridiculously hard after he gagged me.... Like, insanely erect.
I'd always liked it rough--you know, being manhandled, slapped around, that sort of thing. Nothing too intense, but enough to make me feel submissive and "owned". Unfortunately, most of the guys I'd fucked through the years were all talk but no action, so it was exciting to finally meet a true "Dom".
I covertly whipped my dick out and it was now pulsing and twitching in the air, blood surging. It was even leaking precum, a rare occurrence, and I could see the tip shining under the lights. I pumped it a few times and moaned. Damn.... I was so turned on.
But it somehow got even better when Clyde put his wet finger back on my hole. Then without warning, which I guess should've been expected, he jammed the whole thing in!
"Uh!" I squealed, loudly enough that a few guys turned.
With my shorts halfway down, it was obvious his finger was up my ass. I was squirming on my tip toes as he lifted me and the men around us were loving it. Everything was visible to the pervs and my face was red hot with shame. I like showing off but this was too much, but there was nowhere to go! Clyde had both my wrists in his other hand and I was really stuck! All I could do was squirm and writhe while he sodomized me for the audience.
His fingering technique was brutal, nearly violent, so you'd think it would've scared me off. But no, I fucking loved it! Because of course I don't just like being manhandled..... I also LOVE a good pounding! Some powerful prostate punishment--really getting beat up and bruised, even a little abused--is what I craved.
In my early 20's I couldn't take it as hard, but with age I've come to appreciate a thorough dicking. And to my embarrassment, I'm also a size queen. I chalk it up to my theory that tall guys have deeper prostates, but all I know is that big, girthy cocks really do it for me. They give me pleasure small ones simply can't, literally forcing cum out of me with or without my consent.
With all that in mind, I was excited to see Clyde was packing heat. As he scrambled my eggs, he brought my hand under his shorts so I could feel his flesh.
"Oh!"
I had to catch my breath! Mmm... Too big to wrap around, which isn't crazy because my hands are small. But still, gotta love that. I clocked it in around 9 inches, a size I was well acquainted with because my ex boyfriend had an absolute monster. I think he's partly to blame for my size queenery; he ruined small dicks for me.
Holding Clyde's flesh while being fingered really got me going. I've always loved that contrast, how clear the roles are. Dancing up against him, whacking him off while being explored, it was so fucking hot.
"Let's go," Clyde said a few minutes later, jerking me out of the trance.
He didn't wait for a response and grabbed my arm, then started pulling me through the crowd. I was confused but also so turned on. I loved how he just took charge, didn't ask questions, so I decided to follow him. In truth, I also couldn't get away...
When we passed Jesse he smiled and gave me a thumbs up. I returned an embarrassed smirk and yelled over the crowd that I'd see them later.
"Are you going back to his place!" Jesse shouted.
"Uhh... To be determined!" I answered. "But don't wait up for me!"
"Okay! Talk to you later!" Jesse was quickly sucked back into the mosh.
Clyde continued to lead me to an undisclosed location. First down a long concrete corridor, then down another, then another. I saw men in leather hats and harnesses smoking cigars through the red haze, others in collars and leashes. We arrived at an industrial door and Clyde nodded to the beefy guard. He opened it without speaking and I was pushed forward into the darkness.
It was pitch black and all I could make out were the faint outlines of contorted bodies. I heard groaning, moaning, huffing, squelching, slapping. There was no way to know its size nor occupancy, but it was clear we had entered a "dark room"--a place for sex.
Clyde somehow knew where he was going and brought us to our own little cubicle. I couldn't tell how many walls surrounded us but it felt semi-private. And by that I mean the closest couple was probably "only" 15 feet away..... But I really couldn't tell.
After sliding my shorts off, Clyde ordered me very flatly to get on my knees. It was again weird to be commanded by a guy I'd just met, but who was I kidding, I wanted to suck him off so badly. My back against the wall, I eagerly went down on my haunches and launched at his crotch.
He'd also taken his shorts off which made this all feel so lewd. We were fully nude getting nasty at a party! I know that's not the craziest thing in the gay world, but I'd never done it in public and felt debaucherous.
With the ecstasy still coursing through me, I handled his flesh like Ganymede himself. I sucked and licked and worshipped Clyde for what felt like an eternity, but clearly it wasn't enough.
