Alpha Bear on Campus Ch. 06

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President May collars John at an exclusive leather club.
14.2k words
4.45
14.3k
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Part 6 of the 11 part series

Updated 06/16/2023
Created 11/19/2020
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johngus22
johngus22
159 Followers

Author's Note: I'm introducing quite a few new characters here with plans for more types to come into the story from this leather club. Would love to hear feedback and/or suggestions for where or who to take the story to next. Enjoy!

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"I'll have the beef filet and a manhattan to drink. And he'll have the salmon with, let's see...is a Tito's and soda, okay with you?" President May peered at me over his menu waiting for my response.

"Err...yes Sir. That sounds great. Thank you." President May smiled, took both our menus and handed them to the waiter.

That was different, I thought. Intentionally, I had waited to allow President May to order first. I knew that was only right, but I had not expected him to order for me. His question about my preference for tilapia or salmon a few minutes earlier made more sense in light of what just happened. I shifted tentatively in my seat and looked around the restaurant once more.

Crispino's was an elegant family steakhouse on the edge of Southlake. Southlake was a wealthy suburb filled with gated neighborhoods, fine dining, and high achieving schools. I had never been to a restaurant in this part of town before. When I looked at the menu I saw why. The prices were much too fat for my skinny wallet.

We sat at a two person table in a more secluded part of the restaurant. I was thankful we had the advantage of privacy with it being my first ever public date with another man―not that anyone would have guessed the two of us were on a date given our age difference. I wore a green checkered button up shirt and my nicest and tightest pair of blue jeans at President May's request. He was always the most handsy with me when I wore this pair to his house or to work for casual Fridays. President May wore the shirt I had helped him choose earlier that day― dark blue shirt with a tiny white diamond speck pattern throughout. He also wore a dark pair of jeans of a much higher quality fabric and clear signs of a personal tailored touch. A black belt and dress shoes completed this handsome look.

When our drinks arrived, President May raised his glass and offered a toast. "To the most intelligent and most handsome young man I know. You've been a breath of fresh air when I needed it most. You've made me feel young again. Thank you for being such a," he paused a moment and then lowered his voice, "good boy!"

I blushed. I did most times when I heard those two magical words (and many times my pants would tighten). I could tell his words were sincere. It was now my turn to say something. "And to the man I have learned so much from and look up to more than anyone in the world. You've helped me accept myself for who I am. I don't know what I would do without you. I am glad I can call you..." I checked around to make sure no one was listening, "Daddy."

President May's smile stretched wider at the utterance of that last word. Even the corners of his eyes curled upward in delight. Our glasses clinked, and we each took a drink.

"Now Johnny, tonight is a special night. Or, so I hope. I have a gift for you. More of an offering, really."

I straightened up a little. My heart beat with anticipation.

"I've thoroughly enjoyed our time together over this past month," President May continued, "I love having you over to my home, having dinner with you, watching films, getting to know you in mind —and in body." Both of us feigned a smile. "When I say you're a good boy, I think you understand there is nuance in that term. It is not meant to be demeaning. It simply speaks to relationships, to hierarchy."

He took a moment to read my reaction and see if I followed his words. I nodded my understanding.

"You play that role very well. You've made me a proud father, which is why," he reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a small silver object, "I want you to dive deeper into that role."

He placed the object between us and snapped it onto the table. It was a key.

"What is that?" I asked.

President May chuckled, "It's a key, obviously."

"Yes, I know. But what's it to?"

"Think. You're a smart boy." At that moment our salads arrived. This gave me a few seconds to think.

"Your house?" I said, going with the most obvious answer.

"Correct. John, I am offering you a key to my house. I want you to move in with me."

My eyes widened. I took a deep breath. I reached to pick up the key. I I wanted to feel the brass in my fingers.

"Hold on," President May said, placing his hand over the key, "It's not yours yet. This key comes with a set of rules and expectations."

With a disappointed look I pondered what he was getting at. I could tell by the tone of his voice it was more to this daddy/boy hierarchy we had been operating in. There was something I didn't know yet.

"What kind of rules? Expectations?"

President May looked around to see if anyone was listening. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table. His voice was direct and in the volume of a whisper.

"You may think you know what it means to be a good boy, but truthfully, you barely know the half of it. Tonight, I intend to teach you it's full meaning." He sat back in its seat and his voice returned to a normal volume. "But, this is hardly the place for that conversation. Plus, it would be more fun to show you." He smiled with only one side of his face. His eyes were now aflame with a seductive light. He knew he was teasing me, torturing my curiosity. And he loved every minute of it.

"What do you mean? Show me?"

"If you want to find out, you'll have to come with me after dinner." He took a sip of his drink, but his eyes never broke our gaze.

"Where are we going?"

"Don't you trust me?" He said, raising his eyebrows at me. His words were as much an accusation as they were a question. I looked down at my salad. I did not respond. "Perhaps, you don't. Maybe this is too soon." He reached across the table to take back the key.

"No! Don't!" My hand slammed on top of the key before he could take it. The collision of my hand hitting the table combined with my sudden outburst made a large enough ruckus for the nearby tables to notice. I looked away embarrassed and President May waved at the tables and flashed an apologetic smile to them before looking back at me. His smile grew as he looked at my desperate face. He knew he had me―hook, line, and sinker.

"Sorry," I said, "It's not too soon. I do want to move in with you. I do trust you."

"Good. Then you will come with me after dinner. Until then, however," he reached across the table and lifted my hand off the key, "this will remain with me." He snatched the key up and slid it back into his shirt pocket. I stared at that shirt pocket as if I had x-ray vision and could see the key through it's cloth. I felt like a kid on Christmas morning that just had his present from Santa taken away.

"Eat your salad." President May's words snapped me back into reality.

"Yes Sir." I said. I picked up my fork and began eating.

The key and our after dinner destination were not mentioned for the remainder of dinner, though the two were constantly in the forefront of my mind. My salmon was delicious, but I couldn't help be envious of President May's plate. My mouth watered every time he cut into the bloody filet. I felt guilty for having these thoughts. I should be more grateful. This fancy dinner was on his dime after all. There would be ways to thank President May for his generosity later, I told myself.

President May signed the check and downed the last of his drink (his second of the night). "Alright, my boy. Time to go." We stood up to leave.

"Where are we going?" I asked, trying to tread lightly.

President May answered without bothering to look at me. "Hush boy. Trust Daddy." Without another word, I followed him out of the restaurant.

The car ride over was uncomfortably silent. President May was intent on keeping an aura of mystery. We passed many bars and restaurants as he navigated his BMW through the city streets. I noticed we had left Southlake and entered into a part of town I had never been before. After another couple of miles, he made a right turn and soon all I could see was bar after bar with various patrons spilling out on the sidewalks. It took me a couple seconds, but I realized there was a common demographic among all these people. They were all men.

We were in "the gayborhood," or so it was called on campus. I had never been to a gay bar before. I was not out, and while the thought intrigued me, I never had gathered enough courage to venture to one. I turned and looked at President May. He gave me a couple seconds of side eye. His face was expressionless, but he knew I had figured out the relative location of our next adventure. Still, he said nothing. His hands turned over one after the other as he pulled his car over to the side of the road in front of a valet booth. I looked up and saw a large red neon sign that read "The Phoenix." The valet, a young athletic guy not much older than me, rushed to the driver's side and opened the door for President May.

"Sir May, welcome back! How are you tonight?" the valet greeted.

"I'm good. Thank you, Mitchell." President May said as he got out of the car. "Is Master Martin here yet?"

"Yes Sir. He wanted me to tell you he has reserved a private table for you upstairs."

"Perfect." President May handed the valet his keys. I looked around to gather my surroundings. A black awning hung over the entrance and there were a few groups shuffling in and out of the bar. I noticed a couple of the guys coming out of the bar buttoning their shirts back up. One of them was wearing a black harness. When he caught me staring, I quickly redirected my line of sight and stared at one of the neon signs in the window ("Cocktails and Dreams" it read).

"You ready?" President May appeared at my side. I looked back at the bar and studied the men on the sidewalk once more. President May's hand reached around and grabbed me underneath the ribs. He pulled me against him.

"Johnny, Do you trust me?"

"Where are we? What is this place?" The words came out more judgmental than I intended.

His hand rubbed up and down my side. "This is The Phoenix. My friend, Martin, owns it. It's a gay leather bar. Do you know what that is?"

"I think so."

President May let go of my side, and turned his body to face mine. "Johnny, look at me." I turned and squared up to him. He grabbed me just above the elbows and gently rubbed up and down my upper arms. "I know this may be a little outside your comfort zone, but I want you to give it a chance."

I looked back at the bar's entrance.

"John, have I ever put you in harm's way? Have I ever forced you to do something you didn't want to?"

I shook my head, no.

"I'll ask you again. Do you trust me?"

I nodded.

"Use your words, son."

"Yes Sir. I trust you."

"So then, relax." He maneuvered both our bodies to be side by side. He put his arm over my shoulder and pulled my head towards him, so he could speak directly into my ear. "I have arranged a private table for us upstairs. You can look around and get used to the place. I'll be with you the entire time."

I exhaled. "Okay, I can do this." I said.

He gave me two pats on the rear end. "Good boy. Follow me."

Once inside, it took a few moments for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. The blaring music made me wince. The first thing I noticed was the dance floor which was situated ten feet straight ahead from the entrance. President May led us away from the dance floor, to my appreciation, and toward a section of tall top tables to our right. The music wasn't as loud in this part of the bar. Yes, there were skinny and fit men like me around, but I couldn't help but notice how many big husky men there were―many of whom also had the confidence to spend their Friday night shirtless in the midst of strangers. Many of these men wore different leather combinations. Some sported more leather than others. Some didn't sport any leather, but they were in the minority.

We travelled further and soon could see a long bar where several men crammed sideways together trying desperately to get a bartender's attention. I noticed high above the bar's liquor shelves was a second floor―a deck that looked out over the rest of the bar. I couldn't see how far back this deck extended but there were several tables pushed against its protective railing. All but one of these tables was occupied, filled by mature distinguished looking men. Maybe it was the manner in which they drank from their fancy cocktails or the way they looked out over the crowd. Whatever it was, they had a semblance of elitism about them. They looked like lords sitting above the serfs they ruled below, desperate for just one bottle of beer.

I tried my best to stay only half a pace behind President May. However, as we made our way through the crowd, a large muscular man stepped between us. He was at least 6'2, 230lbs, and looked to be 10-15 years my senior. He wore jeans and a leather harness over a grizzly chest. I made a move to walk around him, but he blocked my path. His eyes glazed over as he looked me up and down.

"First time here, boy?"

I didn't answer. My eyes darted frantically trying to catch a glimpse of President May. Where did he go?

"Why don't you let me buy you a drink. You look like you could use a Daddy."

Suddenly, my unwanted intruder was pushed aside. There stood President May. My Superman had arrived.

"The young man is with me." President May said. I worried there would be some sort of altercation, but the man raised his hands as if to apologize. "C'mon John." President May grabbed me under the arm and led me away from the grizzly man. When we were in the clear President May stopped.

"Look more confident. They can tell you're a rookie. Try not look so much like prey."

I wasn't sure how to do that.

"Here, grab the back of my belt. That way we won't get separated and they'll know you're with me."

Reluctantly, I grabbed the back of President May's belt, and we continued toward a doorway in the back corner. My ears felt hot as I was sure the other tables would see us and get a good laugh seeing me holding onto another man's belt as he led me around. To my surprise, however, no one seemed to notice. Or rather, they did notice, but they did not care. There were no second glances, no snickers from the men. Several even nodded or tipped their caps to President May as he passed.

When we reached the doorway in the very corner, I noticed on the other side of it was a set of stairs with a black retractable belt stanchion in front of it. There was a sign on the wall to the left that read "Icarus Club: Members Only." These stairs were guarded by a man I guessed to be a bouncer. He was about 6'3, a solid 280lbs, had a bald head and a sleeve of tattoos on his right arm.

"Sir May, welcome!" The bouncer opened up the stanchion for us to pass. I let go of President May's belt as we made our way up the stairs. I took the chance to admire my first love, President May's ass. His perfectly rounded cheeks took turns saying hello to me as they bounced back and forth with each step. It was tempting not to lean forward and give it a kiss on each cheek. But, we were in a public setting. I would never give such a public display of affection (and I certainly would call it that).

My admiration was soon broken by a jaw dropping sight coming down the stairs. We passed two men. The first man leading the way was a tall middle-aged man with glasses dressed head to toe in leather. This wasn't what startled me, though. I had seen several men with this attire already. What caught my eye was the man behind him—or should I say, young man? Boy? Either way, a guy in his late 20s, fit and muscular, trailed behind him wearing only a black jock. That's it! There were no pants, no shirt, just the two skinny straps of clothing! I could not help but gawk at this sight. My head followed the younger guy as he moved past me. Sure enough, there was his bare ass on display for all to see.

Suddenly, I felt myself falling forward and a sharp pain on my shin. I yelped as my hands reached out to break my fall. I was able to catch the top step and regain my balance.

"Careful. You alright?" President May said while suppressing a laugh.

"Yeah, I'm fine." My face was red again.

President May took my arm and helped me to the top. He pulled me in close. "It's rude to stare." He gave me a teasing smirk that he finished with a wink. "C'mon boy, let's go find our table."

He placed my hand on the back of his belt, and led me around the corner and down a hallway. Soon, the whole bar came back into view, and we were standing on the top deck looking out over the crowd below.

We were greeted by a host. He was young and athletically toned and wore a skimpy uniform that consisted only of short leather shorts and low rise black boots. He greeted President May. "Sir May, welcome! Master Martin had us set aside a table for you against the railing at your request."

"Perfect. Thank you James."

"Right this way Sir."

We walked along the railing to an empty table about three quarters of the way down. Along the way I made note of the layout of this "Icarus Club." The majority of the floor was filled by five large round tables in the center. I made an extra effort not to stare at the men who occupied these tables desiring to avoid the mistake I made a few seconds earlier. What I could gather with a quick glance was that they were filled by men both young and old. Against the far wall which bordered the building's exterior was a private bar. Unlike the bar below there were no crowds at its countertops. Instead, the only foot traffic near it was from the waiters (also wearing short leather shorts) rushing to deliver the upstairs clientele's drink orders.

We stopped at the second to last table alongside the railing. It had four chairs. President May took the nearest seat away from the railing and motioned for me to take the seat directly across from him. I sat down, and as promised, I had a view of most of the bar and could easily gather my bearings. I took the opportunity to take a longer gander at the men that populated this floor. Immediately, I could see a contrast between the men that divided them into two distinct groups.

The first group of men resembled the likes of President May. The second group of men resembled the likes of the young man in the black jock who had tripped my curiosity on the stairs. The first group of men ranged slightly in age, but all of them looked to at least be in their 40s (and some several years beyond that). And they were all large in one way or another—tall, big bellies, broad shoulders, bulky arms and chests, some combination of the latter. Some of them wore full leather gear like the man we passed below, but I found it more common to find a professional business or business casual look up here than that of the regular patrons below.

The second group was more eye catching. These men (or should I call them that?) wore only jocks and low-rise black boots. The jocks were of various colors (white, blue, red, purple, and black). These men shared a similar characteristic in age, typically being from a younger generation—though I did see two older gentlemen (40s or 50s) showing off their bare asses in red and black jocks.

I looked at President May to see if he had noticed this strange dichotomy, but he was busy talking with James about our drink order.

Next, my attention was drawn to the very corner of the room. There were two couches and two love seats, all arranged in the shape of a rectangle facing each other. There were three men on these couches (one couch sat empty). Two of them wore variations of leather while one wore a gray suit. He looked like he had just come from work. There were four others in this lounge area, but they only wore jocks (two black, one purple, one red) and they were not sitting on the couches. They stood or kneeled next to one of the three men.

johngus22
johngus22
159 Followers