Gay Club DJ

His arms went around my waist. Mine went around his neck, raising the bottom of my sweatshirt higher on my rib cage. His big hands slowly explored all my bare flesh, up and down on my sides. As we started to sway again, his lips brushed against my right ear.

"You've been driving me crazy, Wendie," Les whispered as he held me tighter. "I've been watching you from the bar every weekend. I can't believe how beautiful you are."

He kissed my bare shoulder. His lips felt big and wet. I shimmied the shoulder, but not too violently. His prominent nose moved some of my hair off to one side, allowing his wet lips to move to the nape of my neck. My whole body shuddered while he held me tightly in his arms.

"You've been teasing me with your dancing, your sexy Southern accent and your smiles ever since you started working here," he said. "I've been obsessing over you and this smooth, young body of yours. You're the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing I think about at night. I've been jerking off while picturing you in my arms, and tonight, I want you for real."

His mouth came down to mine while his heavy arms held me in a tight embrace. My thoughts were racing.

"What the hell am I doing?" my mind silently screamed, but my body arched into his. "I'm being kissed by Les, for chrissakes! He's older than my father, and he's maybe the homeliest man I've ever met. And I'm kissing him back! I've gotta do something."

I broke off the kiss and leaned back in his arms, placing my hands lightly but defensively on his big chest.

"I ... I've gotta go," I said. "The Triple A guy will be here any minute."

"No," Les said, confidently, "he won't."

"Yes, he will," I said, trying to catch my breath. "When I called, they said he'd be here in about an hour, and I think it's been about an hour now."

"It may be an hour, my little Southern belle," Les said, pulling me closer, "but what you don't know is that right after you left my apartment, I called Triple A and canceled your request for a repair truck. So, you see, Wendie, you've got all night. Actually, WE'VE got all night."

I was so surprised, my mouth fell open. Les took immediate advantage of that to thrust his tongue into my young mouth.

"Mmmmph!" I said, or something like it. I struggled to get away from him, but he was too strong. When his long, thick fingers grasped my bare shoulder, I surrendered ... totally. It was a new sensation for me, a teenager, being in a man's arms -- a much older man's arms at that. It turned me on to know that someone that mature had been masturbating while thinking of me. I liked what his hands were doing as they despoiled my firm, white flesh. I found I liked even more surrendering my mouth to his. He was treating me just like a woman, and I was loving it.

The song ended, but he kept kissing me and kissing me, sensing perhaps that each time his mouth touched mine, it tore away more and more of my resistance and willpower.

His mouth finally moved down to my bare neck. He was getting a little out of control, breathing very hard. He began chewing on my nape, harder and harder.

"Les!" I cried. "You're hurting me."

He stopped biting me. His arms loosened around me, and his eyes slowly lost their maddened look.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. "Wendie, I wouldn't hurt you. I would never hurt you."

With that, he swooped down and picked me up, one arm under my legs and the other around my back. My arms found themselves wrapped around his thick neck, and my long, straight blond hair hung straight down. He started walking me out of the ballroom, but he was breathing so hard, I didn't think he'd make it. I only weigh 147 pounds, but Les was, after all, over 60 and not in the best shape. But I found that I loved being carried. It made me feel so helpless, feminine and totally in Les' control.

He managed to carry me into his apartment. A door was partially ajar, and he hurriedly kicked it open and half-placed and half-dropped me on a single-sized bed. He stood there for a few moments, catching his breath and looking down at me. Finally, he spoke.

"This is my wife's room," he said. "She was never here, but this is where I keep her things, her clothes."

He pointed to a pink dress on the dresser.

"I thought we might have a late dinner," he said. "I think that dress will fit you. I'd love to see you in it."

I had been propping myself up on one elbow, listening to him. He leaned over and lightly kissed my lips.

"Please," he said. "Put it on and then meet me in the dining room."

Then he left the room, closing the door behind him.

I didn't know what to do or what to think. Absently, I walked over to the dresser, picked up the sheer, pink dress and held it in front of me in the floor-length mirror. I was mesmerized by what had just occurred to me. I felt weak, disoriented and confused. I was a man, a straight man, and I had just been kissed, felt-up and dominated by my fat, ugly boss. And yet, I had never felt so sexually appreciated. As I began to slowly take off my sweatshirt, I told myself that I was trapped, snowbound at an out-of-the-way place with no way to get back to campus, but as I took off my shorts, I couldn't help but notice that my penis was erect.

The dress was dignified, but very sexy. It was worn off-the-shoulders, revealing most of my chest, then curved tightly to my torso before it loosely billowed out over my bare thighs, just barely reaching my knees. I wasn't wearing anything underneath. I saw a brush on the dresser, and used it to tidy up my hair, which cascaded down my bare neck and shoulders.

I looked at myself in the mirror, put my hands on my thin hips and slowly shimmied my bare shoulders.

"Gorgeous," I whispered to myself.

Barefoot, I walked toward the door, hesitated for a moment, then opened it and walked into the dining room. Standing by the table was Les. He took one look at me and sharply drew his breath in.

"Wendie, you are more beautiful than I could imagine," he said, slowly shaking his head, "and believe me, I have imagined you in that dress more than once."

He took my left hand in his massive left one and gently led me to the now-candle-lit table, where he held a chair for me as I sat down. He settled his heavy frame in a chair opposite me. He had filled our wine glasses and raised his for a toast. I picked up my glass with one hand and lightly ran my fingers over the rim with the other as I looked into his dark eyes. I don't know why I did that, except feeling that if I was going to be wearing a dress and dining with my boss, I might as well play the part as femininely as I could.

"To a beautiful dinner companion," he said in his toast.

My voice was strangely soft as I continued to stare into his eyes, seductively shimmied my shoulders and replied, "and to a wonderful host."

We drank our wine, then two more glasses during dinner. Les was indeed a wonderful host. I offered to help, but he insisted on serving me. First, there was a delicious vegetable soup, then cold strips of chicken in a salad. He told me about how he started the club, where he grew up, and basically dominated the conversation. That was fine with me. I felt like a woman, allowing a man to talk about himself. He seemed to like that.

All during the quick meal, I noticed his eyes furtively feasting on me in that beautiful dress. But he was well-mannered, and I could tell he respected me. I felt so pretty, so much a special prize. I was being courted and being treated as this man's lovely date, an equal, even though he was more than 40 years my senior.

After dinner, he walked around the table and politely pulled out my chair as I stood. Then, I felt his hands on my bare shoulders. He was tender, but his hands felt rough on my soft skin. His mouth went to the nape of my neck and very slowly licked and nibbled while his strong, callused fingers kneaded my shoulders. Waves of pleasure pulsated through my body.

"Ohhhh," I murmered.

I shimmied my shoulders in vain resistance. Les' belly was pressed against my back. My eyes were closed as I slowly shook my blond locks.

"Les, please," I whispered in protest as I involuntarily writhed my thin back into his wide body.

He turned me around by my shoulders, looked straight into my eyes and said nothing.

Instead, his head descended toward mine. He took his hands off me, and our bodies were inches apart.

"I want to kiss you, Wendie," he said. "But I won't if you don't want me to. I'm an old man, and you're a beautiful, young thing. It's your choice, Wendie."

I was actually trembling. I was standing there in a pink dress with my jowly old boss wanting to kiss me and who knows what after that. For a moment, my head cleared and I decided to tell him "no." Then I saw our reflection in the dining room mirror. Les was right. I was beautiful. Tears started to well up in my eyes.

"Kiss me, darlin'" I said with a little extra South Carolina accent. "Please kiss me."

Les smiled, his jowls moving in unison, he bent over and -- without touching me anywhere else -- gently kissed my waiting lips. His tongue slowly entered my mouth and entangled itself in mine. It was so sensuous, my body started to undulate, impatient for his embrace. I didn't have to wait long. His hands and mouth were suddenly everywhere on me. I never felt so helpless and feminine ... and so turned-on.

I was his. He was my boss in every sense of the word.

I don't know how long I stood there in abject surrender while he plundered my mouth and despoiled my bare, young flesh. As he took more and more possession of me, I noticed a change in his attitude. No longer was he the thoughtful suitor. He was sneering at me, becoming demanding, almost surly. Not that I cared that much at the moment. I was having a wonderful time being ravished.

Finally, he reached down and picked me up like he had done in the ballroom. With my thin arms wrapped around his thick neck, he carried me into his bedroom. He wasn't gentle when he dumped me onto his bed. He half-dropped me, and I fell backwards for a moment. When I straightened up, Les was undoing his belt and taking off his pants. He was breathing hard as his pants dropped to the floor, revealing a fat, soft penis in a bush of brown, mostly gray hair.

"Suck it, Wendie," he growled. "Suck it good."

I had never even touched another man's penis. I thought about what lesbian Amanda had told me weeks before. She was right. It looked disgusting. I looked up at Les and shook my head, "no."

Les' face turned deadly serious. Like he looked when one of the bartenders broke a bottle of Scotch. I started to become frightened. He stood in front of me as I sat on the edge of the bed.

"I told you to suck it, bitch," he shouted. He grabbed my long hair and roughly pulled my face into his crotch. I didn't like the smell. I tried to pull back, but he wouldn't let go.

"Suck it, Wendie," he shouted. "Suck that cock."

I reached up with my right hand and gingerly grasped his fat member. It felt kind of clammy. Les' fingers tightened on my hair, and it hurt. My bare shoulders were hunched toward my body as my boss pulled my face closer and closer to his penis. It started to throb as I brought it near my mouth with my hand.

He was the dominant male. I was ... I was ... his overpowered, beautiful woman, helpless to do anything but obey him.

His penis entered my mouth, sliding over my tongue. It began to harden as I wet it with my saliva while his fingers tightly in my hair made me bob back and forth. I don't know how big his dick was, but it felt huge in my mouth. It seemed as if I sucked for hours, but it must have been about 20 minutes. Les had released my hair and was grasping my bare shoulders as he pumped in and out of my mouth.

I don't know at what stage I started to enjoy myself, but after awhile I felt pretty, desired and happy that I could give a grown man so much pleasure. I reached under Les' shirt and caressed his big, hairy belly. When he finally pulled out of my mouth, I seductively began to unbutton his shirt from the bottom to the top, shimmying my bare shoulders and rubbing my body against his. When I unbuttoned the last one, I reached up and gently kissed his lips while pulling his shirt off over his hairy back.

"You like sucking cock, eh?" he sneered.

My voice was gentle and soft, almost timid.

"I liked sucking yours. I had never done that before."

Les roughly took me into his arms and kissed me, hard. He pushed me down onto the bed, and soon was on top of me, grinding his fat, naked body into my dress and my bare skin. His big belly on my trim one made it hard for me to catch my breath. He put his mouth around mine and seemed to be trying to suck the air out of my lungs. I desperately struggled, but it was no use. He could suffocate me if he wanted. I felt faint, stopped struggling and lay back, his hands holding down my wrists on either side of my head. I thought I was going to die.

But I didn't, although I guess I did sort of pass out for a few moments. When I regained my senses, Les was reaching under my dress and rubbing something gooey into my anus. It was intrusive, but it felt kind of good at the same time.

"Now you're ready," he said, "when I'm good and ready."

He lay down next to me and kissed me over and over, his wet tongue doing what it wanted in my compliant mouth. His hands seemed to love caressing my bare shoulders and rubbing my bare chest. I have to admit, I loved him doing it. I moaned into his mouth and put my arms as far around his belly as they would go. When his mouth went to where my neck joined my right shoulder, I was in ecstacy.

His body lumbered on top of mine. I was so powerless as his mouth on my nape sent tingles through my body. His hands slowly worked the top of my dress down from my shoulders, kneading my virgin flesh every inch of the way, finally revealing my nipples. For some reason, that made me feel exposed and self-conscious, but all I could do was writhe under Les' massive weight.

His teeth nibbled on my right nipple, gently at first, then harder and harder while his right hand pinched my left nipple.

"Les," I said with alarm, "please stop. You're hurting me."

But he persisted, biting and pinching harder and harder. I couldn't even thrash about because he was so heavy."

"Please stop," I was sobbing, crying like a girl. "You said you'd never hurt me."

That only made him bite harder. I stopped struggling and surrendered to the pain and to him. Soon, although I could still feel the pain, it stopped hurting so badly, and started making me feel more and more ... sexy. I was being used and abused, and I was hoping he wouldn't stop.

"Mmmmm, Les," I moaned, and caressed his nearly bald head with my fingers while he worked on my nipples. I could feel my penis rock-hard under my dress and up against his body. Les felt it, too. His mouth left my nipple and quickly went under my dress and took in my long, thin penis.

I had never felt anything like that. His fingers reached up and pinched my nipples but I barely felt them because his mouth was doing wondrous things to my penis. It didn't take long before I screamed and shot my load into his conquering mouth. I think I saw every color in the rainbow as I felt the longest, most intensive orgasm in my young life.

Exhausted, I sank back into the pillow, my dress hopelessly tangled around my wrists and my thin waist, my hair a mess. After I reach orgasm, I lose all sexual desire, so I felt a little silly being in that dress, and embarrassed that I had sex with Les.

Les had kind of a funny look on his face as he peered down at me. He bent down to kiss me. That was the last thing I wanted to do. After cumming, the thought of man-to-man intimacy seemed gross and perverted.

Still, it somehow seemed impolite not to let him give me a last kiss.

Wordlessly, Les grabbed my bare shoulders and put his mouth on mine. I tried to make it a quick peck, but he held me fast and worked his lips into mine. When my mouth opened to his, out oozed all my cum. He hadn't swallowed it, and now I was forced to taste and swallow my own cum after it had been in this fat, old man's mouth.

I shuddered in disgust, but I did it. He forced his tongue onto mine and spent a long time dominating my mouth and squeezing my arms.

I hated him.

Finally, I was able to manuever off the bed and straightened up my dress.

"Thanks, Les," I said. "I'm going to go change back into my clothes now, OK?"

He got off the bed and stood next to me. In his nakedness, he seemed gigantic next to me in that pink dress now once more properly just off my bare shoulders.

"No, Wendie," he said. "It's not OK."

He took me into his arms and tried to kiss me, but the thought repulsed me.

"Please, Les, no," I said. "I've lost the desire. That happens to me when I cum."

Les didn't let go. Holding me tight against him with his right arm, he grabbed my hair with his left and pulled my head back. He kissed me, violently, viciously, then as I struggled less and less, more and more tenderly. I realized that even though I had lost my sexual desire, he believed I was still his woman.

He picked me up and gently placed me back on the bed. He looked down at me as I lay there so vulnerable with my arms on either side of my head. My soft, white shoulders bare, my waist so thin, the hem of the dress riding up to expose my bare thighs.

"Wendie," he said, "you are so beautiful. Too beautiful."

With that, he moved his knees between mine and lifted up my legs. The bottom of my dress slid up to my waist as he moved up, cupping my butt cheeks in his massive hands. I felt his cock at my anal opening for a moment, then came a violent flash of pain as he entered me quickly. I cried out, but he shushed me and kissed my lips as he slowly moved in and almost out of me.

I tried to just lay there and not move, figuring if I couldn't stop him from raping me, then I could at least be a lousy lay. But he was too powerful. I began moving as he did. His mouth attacked my neck, and I wrapped my trim legs around his thick waist as far as they would go. My thin arms were still impotently on either side of my head as my trim body wracked with his movements.

Les was breathing like an ancient steam engine, but one look into his face as he looked into mine revealed his ecstacy. He had been waiting to do this to me for weeks and weeks, and now, I was his. That thought turned me on, if only a little. Les kissed me hard on my lips, and as I tore my mouth away from him, I noticed my blond hair moving about my bare shoulders. My thin, pretty body in this beautiful dress was being plundered by this huge ugly brute. If a beautiful victim was what he wanted, then that's what he'll get.

I shimmied my shoulders and moaned his name over and over. I crossed my arms around his neck and screamed, "Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Les pounded my poor butt like he was trying to go right through me. His eyes bulged and it looked for a moment that he was going to explode. Then, he appeared to consciously calm himself down and began to slow his thrusting into me.

"No, Beautiful," he gasped while he tried to catch his breath. "I've waited too long to cum too soon."

He placed his huge arms on either side of my thin frame and pushed his upper body up where he could look down at me. He seemed so big, and his fat cock still pumped slowly in and out of me, pinioning me to the bed. Then, wordlessly, his teeth returned to my very-sore right nipple.

"No, no, please Les," I cried as I helplessly tried to maneuver my breast away from his teeth. "Please, no. Please, no!"

I was crying.

Les moved his hands to my tiny waist, giving him more control as he pumped into me. My supple body was being ruthlessly plundered and his teeth on my poor nipple heightened his control over me.