We had a short conversation about the club. Jared told me that South Street Nine hosts a special themed weekend once every month. It just so happened that this weekend was such, and tonight’s theme was celebrating fetishes. He told me that because the topic was so broad, it brought in a colorful lot of people. He also gave me a verbal layout of the place, informing me that the second floor hosted the bedrooms and restroom. The bedrooms piqued some interest. The thought of people actually coming here to find sexand have it? It was a foreign concept to a virgin like me.
I finished off my glass and thanked Jared, who welcomed me with a wink and a winning smile. I shifted off the barstool and bid the man adieu, allowing him to resume his slow work on this side of the chaos. I pardoned myself past the few people loitering at the end of bar and around the stairwell. As I neared, the light from the bar faded and I stood in the shadow, stepping up on the landing that hosted the flight. The stairway was rather dark, save for the few classy outdoor lights that illuminated every few steps. I found that as I entered the second floor, it was well lit with warm, sensual lighting. It was fashioned like a lobby. The center area squared off with a couch set, its center piece a round table with magazines and mints. Gorgeous paintings of men hung on the walls. There was the occasional scattered chair, potted plant, and stand lamp. The walls on either side of the room were lined with doors; the left side rooms had solid oak, but the rooms on the right had glass ones. I found that strange. Those couldn’t bebedrooms, could they? I crept my way toward one and stood off to its side in an attempt to hide myself from any occupants, leaned toward it, and peered through the glass.
The room was small and dimly lit, but from my angle, all I could see was the queen-sized bed and two nude older men. One sat at the edge of the bed, his head tipped back, and his posture straight. His bearded lips mouthed a few words as he nodded and dipped down to share a romantic gaze with his entertainer. He ran a powerful hand over his dark, cropped hair, brushing wisps from his brow. The second man was on his knees, his bald head gleaming a bit in the light. He was intent on his work, and watching him made me feel a sensation come over me.
The way he dragged his tongue over the sole of his superior’s foot made me curl my toes in excitement. The lesser took such loving care with his mate, skimming his bottom lip lightly up the sole, causing his man’s toes to flex and flinch. I could only imagine the sensation of the tip of his tongue wriggling between my toes, taking care to reach every inch of it. The subordinate began to suck on the toes, slowly and intensely on each one, lingering the longest on the plump big toe. The bearded man couldn’t help but part his lips for another contented coo, his cock standing full and erect, neglected of touch and attention. My first time seeing a penis off screen. As the lesser sensually lapped up his heel and flicked a tongue at his ankles, I thought I saw his appendage twitch from sheer arousal. A pool of tingling warmth began to flow from my cheeks, trickling down my spine, somehow ending up between my thighs…
I pulled away from the scene, attempting to blink it out of my mind. My face must have been a striking red. Yes, they were bedrooms. I assumed they were for the more open of the sexually active. They must not have minded being watched, but… why do I mind watchingthem…? I decided to peek in another room, hoping that it may culture me into becoming more open.
The next room hosted a scene of arrest. A young, thin-looking boy was wearing a striped pullover jacket, beanie hat, and baggy pants. He stood barefoot on the bed, his front pressed to the wall and his hands behind his back. He must have been freshly handcuffed, as the fairly toned policeman was shifting positions, sliding down on his knees to match the boy’s waist. His navy blue suit was tightly fit, showcasing the few meaty ripples that came with his physique. The wide brim of his police cap cast a shadow over his eyes. The officer shot a glare at the delinquent, barking something that made the boy cry back with a guiltless face. The officer sneered, and a shiver crept down my spine as I witnessed his hand glide over the boy’s round rump. The boy bit his lip as the corrupt man began to fondle his cheeks, my hand absentmindedly imitating his strokes on my thigh. I wanted to be that bad boy. I wanted to be held against my will by a powerful man like that…
The officer viciously wrenched down the boy’s pants, the force of the yank made his now bare bottom jiggle. The boy flushed pink and lowered his head in embarrassment, trying to hide his face. The cop grinned wickedly and—eyes fixed on his prize—mouthed something in a provocative way before giving one cheek a firm squeeze. His ass filled his hand to the brim, so ample was he. I began to fantasize an encounter with an officer as handsome as the one before me, groping my ass just as greedily, massaging it just as hungrily…
I found my hand rubbing the length of my stiff cock under the veil of my pants, and I quickly withdrew into my pocket, glancing around the lobby to see if anyone else had seen me. It was empty, though the bedrooms were clearly not. I worried about my face. It was burning up, and I was afraid that it might deceive me to anyone who speculated what I was doing. In a fret, I promptly headed for the clearly marked restroom on the northern wall.
I pushed through the door to find a spacious room that hosted the basics of a men’s bathroom. The spotless tiles and bright florescent light made everything appear sterile. Upon entering, though, my brisk pace collapsed into an uneasy and hesitant gait. A soft moaning echoed through the room. I tensed a little, not wanting to intrude on anyone’s encounter. I managed to slink my way to the nearest sink, twist on the faucet, and immerse my hands into the cool flowing water. The lusty sighs continued to hang in the air and over the rush of the tap. I tried to focus on the dilemma of my reddening face, watching the clear liquid pool into my cupped hands. The sinks all shared one mirror that rose from the top of the faucets and almost to the ceiling, reflecting all the stalls behind them and a glimpse of the urinals in the farthest corner. The mirror rose slightly from the wall at a tilt, enabling the viewer to see more of their lower half and the edge of the basin. I glanced up to take a view of my face, only to see it ripen scarlet.
Reflected behind me in a stall whose door was swung wide open was a plump man with a boyish face and rosy complexion, pressed against the stall and slowly pumping his hips into it. A lacy black pair of panties laid wrapped around the heels of his sultry stilettos, and with one hand he hoisted up the skirt of his short, frilly maid’s costume, revealing his pink, shapely rump. The wall he was thrusting into led to another stall, its door only slightly ajar, the only thing in sight was a pair of scruffy, dirtied tennis shoes and ashen ankles.