"Actually, guys, I'd like to go now."

From Create Your Own Story

You awkwardly dress, realizing that there's cum dripping from your ass into your jeans, and the four men continue to crowd you pretty close while you get ready. You look up, but it looks like Dean has left without you - you imagine he doesn't get turned down often. By the time you put on your shirt, the four guys are being a bit free with their hands, and you back off, unsteady.

"You sure you don't wanna play?" the guy in the wifebeater says. "We know you're our kind of boy - cheap and slutty."

You feel your face heat up, and decide you're in over your head. You half-run out of the back room, turning even redder as the four men laugh at your retreat. Your ass is a bit sore, and your balls tingle from the eruption Dean coaxed out of you.

You awkwardly move through the dim upper level of the bar, and hit the stairs at a half-jog. Barely able to see where you're going in the dimmed down lights of the blackout night, you slam right into someone.

"Careful, guy," an annoyed voice says, and a strong arm takes your shoulder before you go sprawling.

You right yourself, beyond embarrassed, and look up. The stairwell has almost no light in it, but your eyes adjust and you see a tall stocky guy with a thick neck and black hair. He's wearing a sleeveless black shirt and his arms are thick and covered with dark hair. He has a pockmarked face - like he had bad acne as a kid and it scarred him - but even though he's not handsome, he's incredibly masculine, in a rough-around-the-edges way. He's older than you, maybe in his late forties.

"Where's the fire?" he asks, once you're both balanced again.


You say...

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