The Discovery

In 1992, Louisville's downtown "Whiskey Row" was mostly warehouses and offices for bourbon and tobacco companies. Driving down there a little after midnight, you'd find dark storefronts, trash strewn sidewalks, and mostly empty streets.

Only if you were looking for it, you might also have found a run-down looking bar called "The Discovery". I parked two blocks away and walked down to the address I was given. I only knew it was the right location because of a plain wooden sign and a single light over a closed metal door. The only window for the whole place was blacked out. I could quietly hearErasure's "A Little Respect" playing inside.

I got the name and address of this place from a guy I was cruising at Cherokee Park. There had been stories about people getting beat up at the park and I was worried. He said there was a bar downtown I should check out instead. Even if I was only 18 they'd let me in. Much safer, no bashers, he said. Then I blew him for his helpful information.

I'd never been in a bar before. I'd never been around guys being gay in a public place. I was excited and anxious that the industrial looking door would be locked. But it opened and I was immediately stopped by a guy who could have been out of Gay Central Casting. Blue jeans, white tee-shirt, pockmarked face, and a massive black mustache.

"You lost, kid?" His eyes were completely neutral as he scanned me up and down. He saw in front of him a skinny, nervous, queer kid. Big round glasses, straight brown hair, shaved on the sides and back then flopping over my forehead. Blue jeans and plain green tee-shirt. Tennis shoes (the left had become untied). Smooth skin and a look on my face that must have screamed "I'm nervous as fuck!"

"Naw, this is the place I'm lookin' for," I answered, trying to look over his shoulder. I was exceedingly curious what the bar looked like and did not for one second want to make eye contact with the guy.

He put his hand on my shoulder to fully get my attention. "And let me guess, you left your driver's license at home?" he asked.

"Yah, sorry, is that OK?" I asked him back, finally making eye contact, visibly squirming.

He held my gaze for a moment, gave his shoulders the slightest shrug, and said "Knock yourself out, kid, but stay away from the ba,r" then picked up the newspaper he'd apparently been reading and ignored me.

Walking into the space proper, I was surprised at how dark the place was.The room was deep but not wide. A bar ran down the left side and took up a 3

rd

of the width. At the very back it looked like it opened up and I could see some pool tables. The speakers were playing now Madonna's "Vogue".

A few clumps of guys at the bar were sitting on tall stools talking to each other. Three guys were playing pool. There were maybe twelve guys in total I could see. Everyone was old. I decided I wouldn't make eye contact with anyone yet and headed to the pool tables in the back, avoiding the actual bar at all costs.

"Hey there," a guy called out to me as I walked past a couple. My stomach lurched thinking I was about to get kicked out. I raised my chin in what I hoped was a confident nod and kept walking, hoping to be ignored. "Come over here," the guy continued.

My heart racing, I corrected course and stood in front of him and his bar companion. "I'm Jack, and this is Fred," The guy introduced himself. He was old, graying hair, wrinkles around his eyes, maybe in his 50s I'd guess. He had a deep voice and sounded like he could laugh easily. He had a bit of a doughy stomach and was wearing an untucked blue button-down dress shirt. Fred seemed a little younger, had dark hair (it was hard to tell in the dim light), and clearly had muscles under his tight white tee-shirt he was proud of showing off.

"HI, I'm Phillip," I said as I stepped up into their personal space. I tried to not let my voice carry, but it still seemed too loud, too high-pitched.

Fred flagged down the bartender and said something I wasn't able to catch. A moment later Jack handed me and Fred a shot glass with amber liquid in it.

"To your first night at Discovery!" Jack said. I recognized the smell of whiskey instantly, my father's favorite choice to get drunk with. It burned going down but I avoided choking it back up, and my chest and torso got warm.

The two guys seemed good natured and friendly. I was put at ease by their welcoming questions, almost all from Jack. "How long ya been out?", "Have you ever done anything with a guy before?", "How is it being in school?", "Do ya have a boyfriend?" The whole conversation seemed very easy, they were treating me like an adult, and seemed interested in what I said. Fred's interest seemed to perk up when he found out I went to Trinity High School, apparently where he also graduated.

We were probably fifteen minutes and another shot of whiskey into our conversation when Jack nonchalantly started rubbing the crotch of my jeans. "That looks like quite the nice package you got there, Phillip."

My 18-year-old cock responded immediately, stiffening up toward my belly. I was hoping to hook up with a guy tonight but was surprised it happened so quickly and so in the open.

"Ya... thank you," was all I could think of to say back, jutting my hips forward. I suppose Jack took that as a good sign because he kept rubbing his hand up and down against the outline of my (impressive to me) 6" of wood.

The conversation continued but it was obvious to all three of us it was now just random noise while I stood there getting fondled by the old man. To me it was like the rest of the bar disappeared and we three were in our own little cone of dim light in an otherwise large dark, room.

"Well," Jack said, again without changing the tone of his voice from his questions about my friends and hobbies. "Why don't you show us what you're packing?" Fred nodded his encouragement and smiled.

I was so under their spell that I had no hesitation undoing my belt and button, unzipping, and pulling my cock out from my tighty-whities right there at the bar. Having the cool air of the bar hitting my balls pulsed an extra bit of blood into my already now painfully hard erection. I wasn't shy at all, I felt exhilarated and thrilled to have myself on display that anyone walking by could see.

"Well now, that is very nice." he said, dropping the question-and-answer time. He was gazing at my cock and now with both hands gently rubbing up and down my shaft, gently squeezing my nearly hairless balls. His touches were like... pillows or clouds, light pressure-and-releases. My ass rhythmically clinched as I rocked my hips back and forth.

"Phillip," Jack said as if asking a question or rolling my name around in his mouth while he groped me. "That's a very formal name for a not very formal place. I think instead we'll should call you 'Pup.' What do you think, Fred?" Jack took his hands off my cock and leaned back on his stool..

"Pup, yeah - I think that's fitting." Fred leaned forward and grabbed my shaft and balls at the same time. His hands were colder and firm and he squeezed tightly. I looked down at my cock and could see the head turning purple before he reduced his grip. I could feel Fred's warm whisky flavored breath on my neck, and I leaned toward him. Fred responded by rubbing his lips, much warmer than his hands, on my neck, then strongly sucking. My cock pulsed once, twice at the contact, and I knew precum dribbled out my slit.

I wasn't aware I had closed my eyes until I opened them as the bartender cleared his throat. He made eye contact with Fred and raised an eyebrow. Fred took his mouth off my neck and smiled back at him.

"Why don't we go check out the back room, Pup?" Jack asked as Fred sat back on his stool.

"Yah, that sounds cool," I said in a kind of daze, tucking myself back into my jeans, not knowing how far we were going but already liking my new nickname.

It wasn't that far to go - there was a plain and unsigned door on the wall behind us. Fred walked over and opened the door. It was even more dark inside than the bar was. I followed them in, my heart racing with horny energy.

I've been going to the parks now for a few months. I was already familiar with the stalls in the Jeffersonville public library's bathroom, a ragged metal hole between the two toilets that guys would kindly enough fill with toilet paper so no one got nicked.

I liked giving head, it felt natural. Making a man happy made me feel... wanted, desired, paid attention to. Seen. Getting a guy to cum felt like an accomplishment that went straight to my balls and somewhere deep in my brain. It was OK getting my own cock sucked but if it was my choice, I was the one on my knees.

My eyes adjusted to the dim light. My guess is the place was a converted storage room. I found out years later that these old downtown buildings were riddled with passageways, walled off rooms, and weirdly placed staircases as they were used and reused over a handful of generations.

The room had a few bare low-wattage bulbs hanging from the rough wood beamed ceiling. There was also a row of "stalls" created by raw wooden boards, like public toilets but without a front "door" or toilet. I could hear a few other guys moaning but couldn't see anything.

Jack led Fred and me halfway down the row. We passed a guy on his knees giving another guy head. Another guy was alone in a stall, leaning against the wall, eyes closed, with his pants down. His cock he was slowly jacking off was hard and almost comically huge, I'm not sure I could even get the head in my mouth...

"Here we are, Pup!" Jack said, stopping at an unused stall that had a simple low stool in itl. I was expecting him to grope me some more but instead he dropped his jeans and sat down, his mostly flaccid cock and huge balls landing on the bar wood of the seat.

I knew the drill and went to my own knees.

"Go ahead and take off all your clothes," Jack told me before I could get his cock in my mouth. "You can use your jeans to cushion your knees," he helpfully suggested. Jack grabbed his own cock and started tugging on it. Fred was quiet, still fully clothed, watching with his hands across his chest.

I shed my clothes (including shoes and socks for some reason) and used my jeans to pad my knees. The room was even cooler than the bar but I didn't care. The stool was so low it was easier to also be on my elbows bringing the spongy head of Jack's cock to my lips. It was a nice size, about the same as mine, and didn't smell like anything. I had a funny realization that except for his balls being big, his cock didn't look as old as he looked. My own stiff cock jutted out and down, hard as a rock.

He got harder in my mouth as I started bobbing my head up and down on his shaft. He leaned back and wrapped his hands around the back of my head, jutting his cock as far as I could let it go before gagging. I had to force my head back against his grip to get a little space as drool started splattering my lips and his thighs. His cock was mostly erect but not fully there.

I was in heaven. This was exactly where I wanted to be. Something normally in my brain that was always coiled up finally relaxed when my mouth had a stranger's cock in it. I moved my elbows up to his lab so my hands were free to play with his balls in time with my bobbing. Another old guy taught me that trick.

"Slooow down, boy," Jack said, applying more pressure to the back of my head. "No one's in a hurry here." It took real effort to slow down. A cop wasn't about to drive around the corner (I had no idea yet these bars were occasionally busted), or someone wasn't about to walk in to the bathroom. But I still wanted to get him fully hard and twitching, his seed filling my mouth.

That's when I felt cold gloopy wetness between my ass cheeks. In my surprise I jumped forward and gagged as Jack's cock rammed the back of my throat.

"That's just Fred havin' a little fun," Jack told me calmly. "He's gonna fuck ya." I tried to look up to see Jack's face but the angle was all wrong, just his shirt hanging down to the base of his cock. "You've not been fucked before have ya? Well, that's all right, Fred likes taking a boy's cherry, and he knows how to go slow, right Fred?" He said "right Fred?" like more of a reminder than a confirmation.

"Ya, that's right," Fred said kind of breathlessly. I had agreed to follow these guys in here. Hell, I would have led the way if I knew about the door fifteen minutes ago. But my plan was to suck a guy, maybe two off, jack myself off, then head home, not lose my virginity. This situation was escalating quickly beyond my plans but I wasn't sure there was a place to stop. And even if there was, I don't know if I wanted to. Who the fuck wanted to keep their virginity at 18 anyway?

He was rubbing what I guessed to be KY jelly into my asshole and pressing his finger into me. It felt... violating and dirty and it tickled and burned at the same time and then as he went a little further my stomach suddenly felt crampy.

This now seemed like more than I bargained for, and I started to panic. I put both hands back on the floor and started to sit up. My own hardness leaking away.

"Hey now, just relax..." Jack said, now rubbing the back of my head, his cock still in my mouth. The calming, affectionate rubbing of my head... worked. "No one here is gonna hurt you, and I promise it's gonna feel like the best thing ever here in a few minutes."

Fred's finger was now fully in my ass. He was doing something, wiggling the tip of his finger inside me I guess. The cramping was still there but now pulses of weird sensation, of pleasure, were radiating from a place inside me I never felt before.

"There, that's better," Jack said. His cock was now fully stiffening in my mouth as he talked. "This is an important night for you, the night a boy becomes a bottom!" I almost felt like I was floating. What he said felt very right. This apparently felt very right to Jack too as I could now easily feel the ridge of his cock crown and the veins on his shaft. This is what turned his crank and got him fully hard.

I was aware of how fast my heart was racing. I now felt Phil's knees between my legs, spreading them apart with his own. He withdrew his finger from my ass and I felt empty. I started bobbing my head very slowly up and down on Jack's now very stiff cock while he continued petting and calming me down.

Now the head of Fred's cock was pressing against the ring of my hole, and he quickly pushed himself in. I heard it hurt at first but I had no idea it would hurt this bad! I couldn't help but to buck forward, pulling my mouth off Jack's cock.

"Ooow," I mewed. "I... I don't know I can do this!"

Fred was still behind me, his hands firmly on my thighs, locking me in place. I was now uncomfortably aware of how strong this guy was and started to panic. Pulling back I could see that Jack was giving Fred an intense look I couldn't decode. Jack then leaned over to his crumpled jeans and fished something out of his pocket.

"It's all right, here, I got something that makes it much easier." He had a little brown bottle with a red cap. He unscrewed it and held it to his left nostril, taking in a deep breath while pinching his right nostril closed. He then looked me in the eye and held the bottle to my nose. "Take a deep breath, Pup, you're ok. These poppers will relax ya right where it counts."

Jake seemed like he wanted to take care of me, and I wanted to make him happy. I inhaled with no idea what to expect. The smell was sharp and pungent and reminded me of spray paint.

Time immediately slowed down. My face and chest bloomed with warmth and my heart started jack-hammering in my chest. It seemed like all the stress left my body and I dropped my head down, Jack's wet and slimy cock pressing against my cheek. My own cock flexed and regained its full 18-year old hardness. My ass and thigh muscles all relaxed at once.

Fred must have figured I was ready. I felt his cock pressing against me and then a bit more slowly... he passed my much less resistant ring of muscle and was inside me. It still hurt but this was much more manageable and as he slowly worked himself fully in and pleasure radiated out from my ass to my cock, and through my chest.

This felt right and good. I always thought ass fucking would just be annoying for the guy getting it, but that it was just what the smaller guy had to do. I had no idea being entered by another man could feel so amazing. Fred's thighs were now flush against my ass-cheeks and his cock was pressing firmly and pleasantly against whatever he was flicking with his finger before.

Jack lifted my head up and positioned his cock back inside my mouth. It somehow felt even better than before, and he was able to now push himself further into my throat while Fred started slowly moving in and out of me.

I was being fucked. Really being fucked. This was when I was hit with the realization that he wasn't wearing a condom, and I knew nothing about him or his background. But this was a pick-up bar in '92 and in Kentucky, so it wasn't like they were laying around. If it wasn't important to them, it sure wasn't important to me.

I arched my back and pushed against Fred when he bottomed out inside me. I growled with Jack's cock still in my mouth when Fred almost pulled out then plunged back into me. My cock bounced up and down in empty cool air.

Jack's legs started twitching. Before I could catch my breath, his cock started pulsing, pumping several shots of spunk against the roof of my mouth, against my tongue, down my throat. I choked as cum went down my airway but it was clear neither Fred nor I was going to stop at this point.

Jack withdrew his softening cum and spit covered cock and lay my head down in his lap. He offered me a hit from the bottle again. Jack's kind gestures kindled as much sexual heat in me as Fred's pounding did. I breathed in deeply as I could, filling my lungs with sex that filed every part of my body. With every pounding Fred was now giving me, my cock twitched with agonizing pleasure.

"That's right, you little pig," it was Fred talking now, as Jack caressed my sweating brow. His voice low and rough, his speed picking up, his thighs slapping against my ass. Slap. Slap. Slap. Slap. "You're gonna take my cum.". Fred wasn't talking to me, he was talking at me. I was an object - any pleasure I derived was found on my own. Something twisted in my brain and I knew I needed to please Fred just as much as I wanted to please Jack.

I was feeling stars moving through my body. I wrapped my arms around Jack's waist as Fred pummeled my ass.

"Tell me you want my cum," Fred said, his pace turning frantic. Slap! Slap! Slap! "Say it or I'll pull out and just cum on your back. Right. Now."

This. This was the fork in my road. It wasn't really a hard choice, after all. This is where I belonged, between men like this, pleasing them any way they wanted.

"Yes, cum in me, please!"

With my simple plead and virgin ass clinching down in the most perfect ecstasy I had ever experienced, Fred emptied his load into me with a combination yell/growl that you probably could have heard over the music in the bar.

After several more slower pumps and a grunt, Fred finally slipped out of me and I again felt cold air against my hole. Fred patted me on the ass a few times and was gone.

"Yah," he said to Jack. "Pup's a good name for him." I heard him pull up his pants and walk out.

Fred's violent thrusts had pushed my chest onto Jack's lap, my arms were still around his waist. For a moment the only sound was "Outside" by George Michael from the bar.

Jack leaned forward and wrapped his hand around my aching cock. With three quick pumps, I was coating the floor and his hand and with my cum, grunting as my back arched again with waves of sweet bliss. Some part of my brain noted proudly I shot six ropes of cum, so much cum that my balls ached.