Undies Night at Spike's
By: Brock Archer
(© 2020 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

barcher@tickiestories.us

I was just killing time surfing the ’net for porn and chatting with guys here and there, keeping one eye on the cock clock on the wall. Undies night doesn’t kick in at Spike’s, my favorite leather bar, until at least 10:00 p.m. Just as I was getting ready to shut down my computer and change into my sexiest underwear, that familiar ding told me that someone wanted to chat. Normally, I would have just ignored it, but for some reason I decided to answer. It was a guy I knew only from previous chats, and I still don’t know his name, so I’ll just call him Juan.

Juan came from a small town where there were no gay bars, and he had only recently come out, so when I told him I was headed for undies night, he asked, “What’s that?”

I explained that some gay bars set aside one night of the week when the bartenders wear only underwear, and if customers strip down likewise, they can get drinks at half price. Now, I’m not much of a drinker, but I do enjoy strutting around in nothing but my underwear, and who wouldn’t enjoy all the eye candy? Talk about a sugar high.

I gave Juan the address of the bar and encouraged him to check it out, never really expecting that he would. Maybe someday, but right now, he just didn’t seem ready for that kind of “coming out.”

Spike’s was still moderately lit when I arrived. Men had started to trickle in, but I knew that there would be more soon. Both of the bartenders on duty that night were studs. One wore a brief that was nearly transparent, and the other wore a leather thong that barely constrained his ample junk. Before I even reached the bar, one of those guys signaled the start of festivities by dimming the house lights, leaving on only enough light at the bar for the bartenders to see what they were doing as well as floor lights marking the path to the restrooms. Some bars have a back room where the real action takes place, but Spike’s has only semi-dark corners, which is just fine with me because I enjoy watching and being watched.

Like about half of the guys in the bar, I removed my clothes, all except my Trophy Boy briefs, put them in a brown paper bag provided by the establishment, slapped my name on the bag with a marking pen, and ordered a lite beer, which would last me all night.

Events began to unfold much like any other undies night at Spike’s: guys mingled, initially greeting other men they knew and then approaching total strangers.

“Nice briefs (boxers, jock strap, whatever). Where did you buy them? What kind of material is that? They look really soft.”

“Yeah, they are. Here, wanna feel the material?”

Well, that’s the idea. Anything to elicit an invitation to grope—either from outside the underwear or inside. As usual, I got my share of gropes, giving and receiving. I knew that any minute the undies would come down (or completely off), and the blow jobs would begin.

A cute redheaded cub at one end of the bar “accidentally” pulled down his boxers as he removed his skin tight jeans and had to bend over to pull the undies back up. This was a guy obviously cruising to get gangbanged raw, and bears swooped down on him immediately and offered to buy him drinks—not that he even needed anything to help him loosen up.

I always attract lots of attention on undies night because of the size of my package and my ability to pick underwear that really shows it off well, but once the undies come off, I attract even more attention, especially when I start to get hard. I don’t really consider my dick to be huge, but it is at the top of the range for what is considered normal, and that’s enough to draw prey into my web. As I mingled, I got several invitations and exchanged gropes, but I wasn’t quite ready to get down. Unlike the redheaded cub, I wanted to warm up a bit first.

Soon, I was approached by two good-looking men about half my age. Since they had entered the bar wearing T-shirts in the colors of the local university, I assumed that they were either students there or maybe recent graduates. They wasted no time getting down to business. One rubbed my butt, first from the outside and then inside my briefs. The other one ran his fingers through the hair on my chest and muttered something about how much he was turned on by man fur. In short order, he slid one hand down to the front of my briefs and pulled them down to expose my growing cock. Both men deep kissed me, alternately and then together in a 3-way.

Presently, they worked their way down to my nipples. Since my nips are hard-wired to my dick, the only thing I enjoy more than having a nipple sucked is having both nipples sucked at the same time. Fortunately, each man still had one hand free to stroke my cock, massage my balls, or finger my asshole.

In due course, one of the studs fell to his knees and swallowed my cock. No cock foreplay. No licking or teasing. Just immediate deep throating.

Now, I am not the kind of guy who suppresses his exaltation—even in public places. As the kid sucked my cock, I expressed my appreciation loudly and clearly. “Oh fuck! Goddam it, suck my fucking cock, dude. Suck my fucking balls dry.”

As I moaned and shouted vulgar entreaties, just about every man in the bar turned to see what was going on. That was fine with me; I love having an audience. Pretty soon, half the crowd, which had nearly tripled since I arrived, had gathered around us. Some just stood and watched. Some grabbed the nearest neighbor’s cock and started stroking. And three joined our party, picking up the kissing and nipple sucking where the two college dudes had left off.

They had backed me up against the wall, and before I knew it, one of the young men dropped his briefs, bent over, and backed up to my pole. A couple of the voyeurs helped spread his ass cheeks and guide him toward my missile. We alternated fucking, sometimes he thrust his hips toward me and sometimes I did the thrusting. After a while, he traded places with his buddy, who resumed the assault, and they kept alternating about every 10 or 15 minutes until I could hold back no longer.

When I screamed that I was about to come, the guy riding my cock withdrew, both dudes dropped to their knees, and I plastered both of their pretty faces. Like good Samaritans, they licked each other’s face clean and then shared the fruit juice of their labors in drooling kisses.

Well drained, I wobbled my way to the restroom to freshen up, and when I came out, I discovered my crowd of admirers lined up to spit roast the two college dudes.

Because I hadn’t eaten since lunch, I decided to get dressed and walk across the street to grab a burger before heading home. With my balls now empty and my belly full, I was all set to go home, but as I approached my car still parked at Spike’s, I noticed a fresh bunch of meat entering the bar and decided that I would take one more reconnoiter of the battlefield before heading out. Sure enough, the bar was packed with guys in or out of their underwear, releasing their pent-up frustrations one way or another. I hadn’t planned to stay, but how could I resist? So, I stripped down to my undies again and re-circulated.

I decided to check out the other end of the bar, the one opposite the area where I had fed the college kids my nectar, and there I came across a small circle of guys standing around, watching another cute young guy getting his ass drilled by a husky man wearing nothing but heavy work boots. Now, I have this thing: when I’m fucking a guy, I like to have another guy come up behind me and work my nips at the same. And I figured that if I like that, maybe this hulk does too, so I came up behind him, wrapped my arms around him, and pinched and played with his nips. Apparently, I’m not the only one who enjoys that technique because he purred like a Porsche.

Of course, since he was a pretty big fella, I had to lean right up against his back in order to get my arms around his chest, and since I was naked again, it should come as no surprise that I was hard again in no time. I was tempted to spike him with my spear but I decided just to dry hump his ass crack, which was almost enough to get me shooting again, but before I could, he exploded inside the young guy. Apparently, this was not a guy to savor his conquests because he immediately trudged over to the bar, reclaimed his work clothes, and split without even so much as a “wham, bam, thank you, man.”

I expected the young target to leave as well, but not only did he not leave, he did not even budge. He remained bent over in the invitational position. Well, I’ve never been one to pass up a good opportunity, and since he was already primed and lubed by the hulky stud’s gun oil, and I was hard and eager, I decided to go for it. I drove my cock into his tunnel and pumped away as the guys in the circle continued to look on, though some had drifted away only to be replaced by fresh recruits.

After a few minutes of pumping, we were approached by a really handsome black dude who could have been a professional model. He really was that good looking, and I was just a bit surprised when he approached and kissed me while I was fucking the kid. He was a fantastic kisser, and if it was even possible, I felt my dick grow harder. I guess he had seen what I did to the husky guy, so he swayed around behind and tweaked my nips, dry humping my ass crack at the same time. Well, that did it. I blasted my second load of the night into the anonymous young man bent before me, and the black dude had to hold me to keep me from flopping to the floor.

Once I had regained my composure, I looked up to see the kid exiting the bar. He hadn’t even bothered to get dressed. He just left in his undies, carrying his bag of clothes under his arm.

When I turned to the black hunk to thank him, he looked dejected. “What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Well, I saw that other guy fuck the kid, and then you fucked him, so I was hoping to get a turn at him.”

Somewhat tentatively, I replied, “What about me? You wanna fuck me?”

“Uh, the way you were going at that guy, I figured you were a total top, but hell yeah, I would love to claim your ass.”

And he did.

He was hung like a horse and obviously experienced because he fucked like a pro, alternating between pile-driver pounding and slow, teasingly torturous stroking. At the same time, guys from the circle closed in to work me over, kissing me, groping me, squeezing and nibbling on my nips, and more. Before I knew it, one guy had gotten down on the floor and begun to suck my cock. Man, that’s fan-fucking-tastic—having one guy suck your cock while another one drills your ass. The timing could not have been better because I blasted the back of that guy’s throat at the same time that Mr. Black Stud exploded in my guts. That had to have been the most incredible orgasm of my life.

Together, my model friend and I strode over to the bar to reclaim our clothes and exchange phone numbers, which we wrote on pieces of the brown paper bags that had held our clothes.

As I approached the exit, I was approached by a guy I thought resembled the man who had sucked me off, and I was right. “Brock,” he said.

“How did you know my name?”

“I’m the guy who you were chatting with online earlier this evening. You sounded so kind and friendly that I decided to come out and see what goes on here, and I’m glad I did.”

“Well, with the way you suck cock,” I said reassuringly, “I’m fucking glad you did too.”

THE END

Posted: 02/03/2023