Cocklust Ch. 29

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Scott finds working at a gay bar is not easy.
5.8k words
4.69
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Part 29 of the 36 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/24/2018
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My first few days working for Thaxter went just as I'd expected. I had to do everything from bussing tables to taking orders to running cards, basically the same work I'd been doing before. The main difference was the atmosphere, which of course was very gay. Thaxter wanted to cater to every kind of mo, from leather bears to drag queens to everything in between. It made for a hell of a work environment. Some guys were so over-the-top that they made me feel completely straight by comparison.

Every day we went through the same basic drill. For the first few hours after we opened, we'd mostly serve guys who were just there to hang out. The later it got, the more you'd start seeing couples on dates, or bigger groups of friends coming to party. The rowdiest time of all was late at night, when we'd have strip shows and other special events, which brought the horny drunks out of the woodwork. They kept making passes at each other, and at the performers, and at us staff. By the time we closed every night, we were always exhausted.

It wasn't long before Thaxter asked me to help out behind the bar. I hadn't really expected that, since I was so new; but he was stretched thin and I wasn't about to complain. The part that made me nervous was how many of the bartenders worked shirtless. They did it voluntarily, and I'd been in enough gay bars to know this wasn't unusual. I liked to think I was in good shape, though I wasn't sure how my body stacked up to the go-go dancers, strippers, and other ripped guys around me. Still, I figured I had nothing to lose, so I might as well try to fit in. Sure enough, on my first shift working topless, I got way better tips. I also got a few catcalls, which I didn't know how to take. Part of me was flattered, though part of me was grossed out; the most aggressive guys were usually the slimiest. To say nothing of the fact I was taken.

When I did have time off, I naturally wanted to spend it with Chad. But it turned out to be easier said than done. Since Chad worked at a congressional office, he mostly had to operate on Washington time, which was three hours ahead of San Diego. He had to get up early every morning, at an hour when I was always asleep. If I was lucky, he might get home before I had to leave for my shift, but most days we missed each other. He was mostly only free late at nights and on weekends-- which was right when I had to work. By the time I got home, he was invariably in bed.

I usually ended up jacking off in the bathroom. It wasn't ideal, but under the circumstances, I knew I needed a release. I didn't want Chad to feel guilty or whatever, so I made sure to cover my tracks. I forced myself to stay quiet: I just sat on the toilet while I pounded my pud. I tried to cum as fast as I could, to avoid any suspicion. Then, after I finished, I brushed my teeth and went to bed. I usually snuggled up to Chad's unconscious body, though I had to be careful: sometimes my dick was still hard, so I had to make sure he wouldn't feel it. Then I held him tight as I drifted off to sleep.

I found myself counting the hours till Saturday and Sunday mornings. I knew I'd be tired then, since the nights before were the busiest times of my week. But I almost didn't care, since those were main times we could really be together. I was determined to make the most of them, so I swore we'd fuck each other's brains out. I couldn't help wishing we'd brought our sex toys with us-- we'd left them at our apartment-- but I told myself we'd make do. After all, I thought, we could still experiment any number of ways. It was just too bad that we always seemed rushed.

"Hey," Thaxter said. "Earth to Scott."

I blinked and turned around. I was standing behind the bar, but at that particular moment, we just had a trickle of customers. "O-oh sorry," I said.

"Is something on your mind?"

"No, it's cool," I replied. I didn't want to tell him I was thinking of sex with my boyfriend.

"Uh-huh," Thaxter said. He paused for a moment, then cleared his throat. "You know, as quiet as it is, you should probably clock out. At least for now."

"Okay sure," I replied. I wasn't thrilled at that thought, since I needed all the money I could get. But then again, this was part of what I'd signed up for, and Thaxter did warn me about this beforehand. I suspected the business would pick up later, so I didn't want to venture too far. I just retreated to the private parts of the building.

I ended up browsing through the backstage areas, which were full of all sorts of props. A lot of them were just random knickknacks, but some of them did pique my interest. I found a bunch of masks and blindfolds, along with collars and leashes. I also went through a trove of cock pumps, nipple clamps, hog ties, and other paraphernalia. Some of these things I didn't even recognize; I assumed they were used for something kinky, though I didn't know what.

I picked up a chest harness, held it in my hands for a minute, then slid it over my shoulders. Since I was already shirtless, the metal buckles felt cold against my skin, at least for the moment. I adjusted the straps till they were tight across my pecs. Then I picked up a collar and fastened it around my neck. Finally I looked in a mirror and turned my body around.

I had to admit, it was a helluva sight. Up until recently, I'd never imagined myself dressing like that. It was so out there, so stereotypically gay, that I'd never thought it might be up my alley. At the same time, I was kind of tempted to go back behind the bar in that outfit, just to gauge the reaction I might get.

I also considered taking these toys home to Chad, so we could explore our kinky sides some more. I didn't want to get in trouble, so I figured I'd need to keep it secret from Thaxter. It was hard to gauge if it was really worth the risk. After all, Chad and I had some pretty incredible sex one-on-one, without any special gear at all. The add-ons were really just icing on the cake. At least that was my opinion, though I realized Chad had as much to say about it as I did.

I was trying to decide what to do when I heard some voices nearby. I took off the harness, along with the collar, and I tried to sneak away. But I'd just gone a few steps when I heard the words: "Oh fuck yeah." Then: "hey Mason, look who it is."

I froze in my tracks. That voice belonged to the twins, Mason and Madison, who Chad and I had hooked up with months before. I'd actually forgotten that they worked there. It took me a second to realize what that meant. I now had co-workers who'd slept with both me and my boyfriend.

"O-oh hi," I said as I turned around, and I tried to act casual. "Long time no see."

"Yeah, no kidding," Madison said. "What brings you back here?"

"I, well... I work here now."

"No shit! Are you going onstage?"

"You mean as a stripper?" As soon as I said that, I realized I sounded too dismissive. After all, both Mason and Madison were strippers themselves. "I-I mean I'm just working the front of the house. Right now I'm on break--"

"That's too bad. I was hoping we'd get to see a show."

I licked my lips. I felt like saying: Haven't you already seen it? But those words got caught in my throat.

"Are you still with that boyfriend of yours?" Mason asked.

"Chad? Yeah, we're still together--"

"I thought his name was Charles?"

Aw shit, I thought. I didn't want to admit we'd used fake names with these guys. But I also didn't know if I could keep the charade going, since all my other co-workers knew me by my real name.

"You know," Madison said, "we had a good time that night. We were hoping to see you guys again."

I bet, was all I could think. I had to admit we'd had a hell of an experience with them. I could never forget the sight of Chad sucking Madison's dick while I was sucking Mason's. Not to mention the feeling of Madison inside me while Chad pounded Mason beside us. I didn't necessarily regret what we'd done, but then again, there were plenty of reasons why Chad and I had never done that again. "Well," I said, "we've been busy--"

"Welcome to the club," Mason said.

"You've got to admit," Madison said, "you did kind of ghost us."

"Sorry about that," I said. "I mean, we had to go back to school. At least now we'll be here all summer." Before I even finished my sentence, I knew I'd said too much. I didn't want to give these guys ideas, but it was too late.

"That's cool," Madison said. "You know, maybe if you have time... you should come over. Whenever you can. That goes for both of you."

I was under no illusions about what he really meant. After all, it was the same invite he'd extended before-- and we all knew how that had gone. "Thanks man," was the most diplomatic response I could think of. "I'll let him know."

"Sweet," he replied.

I knew I had to change the subject, but just then my phone buzzed with a text. I jumped to answer it, and I saw it was from Chad.

I just talked to Pam, he wrote. She's doing a thing for Dad's birthday. Any chance you can get the 26th off?

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. This was the perfect excuse to break off the conversation. "Sorry guys," I said, "but I gotta run. I'll see you around, okay?"

"No worries," Madison said. "You know where to find us."

I nodded and headed back toward the bar. As I walked, I texted back to Chad: That's a Sunday, right?

Yeah, was his response.

I'll see what I can do, I wrote. Will need to get someone to cover my shift.

Cool, he replied. Mom says she can't make it, and Patrick was just there, so I kind of feel like it's my turn to go.

I chewed my lip for a moment. I sent him a heart emoji, but I had a lot of mixed feelings right then. I worried that we were getting roped into drama, in more than one front. But it didn't seem right to talk about it over text. I resolved to wait till we could properly discuss it. Then I took a deep breath and put away my phone.

As I expected, the store had gotten busier in the time I'd been on break. Lo and behold, Thaxter had learned some of the lessons I'd taught him. He'd started to get the hang of social media, and he'd done a bunch of posts to lure in customers. Early indications were that it seemed to be working.

"Hey," Thaxter said, "here's someone you should probably meet." He gestured toward a guy with curly brown hair. "This is Jean-Jacques."

"Hey man," I said. "I'm Scott."

Jean-Jacques shook my hand. "Hello."

"He says he found us online," Thaxter said. "Apparently he's got quite the following of his own."

"Really? Do tell."

"I'm a fashion photographer." He handed over his phone, which was open to Instagram.

I looked down and started scrolling through his posts. My first thought was that "fashion" wasn't the right word. His models were hardly wearing clothing at all; they were mostly in underwear or sometimes even just jewelry. Still, the pics made for great eye candy-- I saw some beautiful bare butts and thighs-- and they'd gotten him more than a hundred thousand followers.

"I have other pictures too," he said, "though I can't post them on Instagram. So many in this country can be-- what's the word? Prudes."

"That's what this bar is for," Thaxter said. "Scott's heard my soapbox plenty of times."

"Well," I said, "one way or another, these pictures are hot." I was about to say something else when I recognized one of the faces. "You've worked with Flynn Taylor?"

"Many times. You like him?"

"I...." I debated how to answer. I didn't want to tell him he was Chad's favorite porn star. "Yeah, I mean he's cool."

"He'll be around next month. He'll be performing at the Cockpit."

"No shit?"

"Do you want to meet him?"

"I... well sure, if I can." I was trying to play my cards carefully. Jean-Jacques seemed like a cool guy, so I didn't want to come across as over-excited. Selfishly, I knew he could be useful to us, especially if he gave the bar a shout-out online. He had so many followers that he could send us quite a bit of business. I figured I should take this one step at a time.

I kept wanting to call Chad, but I didn't get the chance. Apparently word had gotten out that the twins would be performing, so more and more people were streaming into the bar. I tried to clear my head as best as I could. The busier it got, the faster I had to move, which was probably a good thing.

When the twins came onstage, I tried to avoid even looking in their direction. Of course there was no avoiding the pulsating music, the lights flashing back and forth, or the cheers from the crowd. My imagination could fill in the rest; after all, I'd seen them perform before, in more ways than one. But I tried to avoid even thinking about that stuff. I kept reminding myself that I had a job to do, and I needed to focus.

Even so, by the time I got off work, I was definitely hard. I felt incredibly relieved to be going home to Chad. With any luck, I thought, he might still be awake. I had so much on my mind, and so much I wanted to tell him, that I didn't know where to start.

As it turned out though, Chad was fast asleep-- not that I was surprised. He was sprawled on his side of the bed, snoring softly, with the sheets twisted all around his body. I could see just enough skin to know he was naked. I was seriously tempted to wake him up; I would've loved to ravage his body or have him ravage me. But I forced myself not to.

I just stepped back, stripped off my shirt, and tossed it in the hamper. Then I let my pants and underwear drop to the floor. I bent over to pick up my clothes, but as I did, I noticed something under Chad's side of the bed. Something that didn't seem to belong.

I crouched down for a better view. As soon as I did, I realized I was looking at a pair of my own underwear. Except I'd never put it there-- plus it had cum stains all over it, which weren't my doing.

I reached down and took the underwear in my hands. I caught a whiff of a familiar scent. It was clearly Chad's jizz; I could've recognized his brand anywhere. I brought the underwear to my nose, took a deep breath, and let the aroma of my man's juices fill my lungs.

All I could think about was what this must mean. Chad must've been using my underwear as a cumrag. Which meant he'd been jacking off without me-- the same way I'd been jacking off without him. And judging by the dampness of the cloth, he'd probably enjoyed a session that same night.

Holy shit, I thought. If Chad kept his cumrag within reach, then it stood to reason he'd been beating off in bed. In the same bed we shared. The same place he was lying at that moment. Hell, for all I knew, he could've been pleasuring himself while I was talking to Jean-Jacques-- or the twins for that matter.

I felt myself getting hornier and hornier. I wasn't thrilled at the thought of him doing this by himself, though I knew I couldn't complain. After all, Chad had even warned me how much he'd nutted in that room: You probably don't want to use a blacklight in here. I guarantee you'd find cum in places you never expected....

I licked my lips as the implications sank in. I knew Chad's stroking was a hell of a sight, and if he was cumming in my underwear, he was probably thinking of me as he did it. The more I mulled that over, the more tingly I got. My dick was rock hard, and it pointed straight out, practically begging for a release. I loved thinking I'd been turning him on; I just wished I could've seen that show myself.

I turned away and tiptoed into the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, then smelled my underwear again. I tried to guess how many of Chad's loads were in there. Clearly he'd deposited more than one, though it was hard to gauge the exact number. After all, his wads could vary in size. If he'd been edging a long time, then he could've cum buckets; but if he'd been going for multiple orgasms, he might've just shot a few drops with each one. I couldn't help asking myself: had he been doing this all summer? Or had it just been the last few days?

I sat on the toilet and slid my fingers along my shaft. Thoughts of Chad got me so much hotter than all those other guys. My fingers were practically on autopilot: I teased my cockhead a little, then closed my eyes and just savored the sensations. I could still hear the purr of him snoring in the next room. Hormones went pumping through my bloodstream, and my nerves immediately responded. I tried to keep the tease going as long as I could, but then I just had to start gripping my cock. I still kept going as slowly as I could, hoping to heighten the sensation, though my urges kept telling me to move faster.

My boyhole was itching, and I wanted to finger it. But at that point I couldn't: I just had one free hand to work with, and I was still craving the smell of Chad's cum. So I kept holding the rag to my nose, and I kept breathing in deeper and deeper.

I can't tell you how bad I need it right now, I remembered Chad saying. I assumed he'd felt the same way jacking off. Of course, I'd never actually seen him do it in private, which I knew was totally different from doing it for show. But I knew him well enough to know how it had probably gone down. I imagined him lying in bed, on top of the sheets, pounding away. I knew he'd probably keep his legs partway up, spread nice and wide, so his ballsack could bounce around freely. The foot of the bed would've had a great view of his taint, along with the start of his buttcrack behind it, and possibly even his pucker.

By now I was stroking much faster. My cock flapped back and forth as I yanked away at it. Chad's cumrag fell from my grip; I wanted to pick it back up, but I didn't want to stop what I was doing. Besides, I had other things I could do with that hand. I arched my back a little, reached back, and dabbed at my hole. My sphincter was still itchy-- still very eager for dick-- and I would've loved to have fed it a dildo. But since that wasn't an option, I did the next-best thing and slid my fingers inside.

I couldn't help thinking of Chad's love for butt play. I remembered the first time we'd fucked, when he'd made me plow his ass. Not to mention when I'd fingered him and eaten him out the first time he'd come to my dorm....

I couldn't help myself at that point. I jacked off harder and faster, and I forced myself to stifle my groans. Fuck, I thought, this was pretty near fantastic. I sensed myself getting closer and closer, till I was just about to bust.

Just then the door whipped open. Chad was standing there, still naked, with a startled look on his face. I jumped with surprise, and I tried to stop, but it was too late. My body was already spasming: a rope of cum shot out of me and landed on my abs. Then a few more spurts splattered on my body, followed by some gobs that just dribbled down my shaft.

Chad seemed just as surprised as I was. Maybe even more so. It was one of the few times he'd made a face that I couldn't quite read.

A wave of embarrassment washed over me. There was obviously no hiding what I'd been doing. My right hand was still wrapped around my cock, drenched in jizz. My left hand was still partly shoved up my butt. "H-hey babe," was all I could say.

Chad seemed just as embarrassed as I was. And he was almost as speechless. "Um... I mean... why--"

"W-well I, uh, didn't want to wake you--"

"If you were really that horny... I mean...." Then his voice trailed off, and I realized he was looking at his cumrag beside me. I could practically see his brain put two and two together.

I relaxed both of my hands, and I laid them on my lap. It was pretty crazy awkward, though I'm not quite sure why. After all, practically all guys jerked off. Hell, the first time we really met was at that circle jerk with the Kap Eps. Yet it still seemed taboo to get caught in the act.

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