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Hey everyone. I'm a little higher than a lurker but have never written a story or anything of this length. I haven't met anyone through this site but have come close, but I still keep coming back. This is my first story and I knew I had to share it. Things like this tend to happen to me but I never put pen to paper.

Full disclosure:

This happened to me.

This happened to me.

Good God, I wouldn't believe it unless it happened to me.

I moved from New York City to Seattle the last week of 2017. My company was in a bit of a valley and my move was supposed to be an infusion of energy to the main office here that would help turn things around. It wasn't. In fact, when I got here, within the first week I could sense the trouble my company was in. The energy in the office was low, there was in-fighting, there was no real support for my move or I should say, being Seattle, everyone pretended to be happy I moved and when I wasn't around talked about what an asshole I was. Things were going poorly and have been. And when you have a strong personality and are emotional, you tend to internalize things. When you internalize things with no outlet, you tend to drink.

I've been drinking heavy since I moved. Suffice to say, the neighborhood I moved to was probably a mistake given just how many opportunities there are for my liquid self-medication. I live in a neighborhood called Capitol Hill. For those of you who have never been to Seattle, Capitol Hill is the Greenwich Village of Seattle. For those of you who have never been to NYC, Greenwich Village is the queer/weird/artist area of wherever you live.

I've been inspecting bar after bar across the city and my neighborhood until I recently found a spot that has proven to be pretty accommodating for drink prices, location, people watching and drink prices. It's called Captain Black's. Captain Black's is no different from most bars anywhere except it has a patio. The location is built into an inclined street and so when you get to the patio out back, you can get a GREAT VIEW. Tito's and Soda $6 (or $7 depending who was bartending), you can't beat it! I had found my spot.

Backstory? Check.

Location? Check.

Context? Check.

This was three weeks ago. A Sunday afternoon. Summer has hit the rest of the country, but it takes several more weeks to get here so you get overcast days in the last week of June. With days like that, the patio is not flush with pasty, vitamin D deficient bodies with calf tattoos. You have to wait until July for that. So, if you don't mind a bit of a breeze, no sun and you bring a sweatshirt, you can have the patio to yourself...in the end of June.

I did. The patio, which is maybe 300 square foot with a couple of raised narrow tables (about 8' x 2') along the perimeter with high stools and about 8 metal 4-seater tables in the middle had two couples sitting as far apart as possible while I was sitting alone at a perimeter table. I was on Tito's
, sitting on the end, enjoying the gray sky. (Seattlites, holla if ya hear me!) Just then a group of 3 men and two women entered, the tallest man asked if I minded if they sit there.

"Not a problem," I replied, gesturing to the rest of the empty table.

"Thanks." He spoke in a squeaky, yet equally effeminate and masculine voice. From his speech and mannerisms, I made the leap he was gay. Which he was.

They all filled the opposite end of the table, which should comfortably fit 6 on each side. They all situated themselves and the tall leader took drink orders from the group before going to the bar to fill them. After he walked away, 2 new women walked over to the table and sensing that I was part of the group introduced themselves to me.

"I'm Kristen," she said with a bit of a drawl, indicating her liver had been lubricated before her arrival.

"Alex," I replied, shaking her extended hand.

Just as we shook hands our tall friend returned, laughing at the situation. Afraid I had been bothered by his friends mistaking me for part of the group, he quickly apologized.

"I'm so sorry!" he said grinning.

Kristen, unaware of her part in the joke, looked at him.

"He's just sitting here, but I guess he can be part of the group if he wants?!"

"Sure!" I replied with an enthusiasm that can only be attributed to Tito.

We went around the table and was introduced to the group.

"This is {blah blah}."

"This is {blah blah}."

"This is {blah blah}."

That went on until I had heard each name and responded with my own. Once finished with the group, the tall waiter introduced himself to me as Kevin. I responded in kind.

What he was initially returning for was lost (to me) in the throes of Pacific Northwest hi-jinx, but he left again only to return a few moments later with drinks cavalcade of beer, cider and a rum & coke drowning in ice.

Round after round went by and I could feel myself shifting closer to the group. I felt more comfortable lofting light hearted barbs bayan esmer escort bursa at the group as time went on and they felt comfortable returning them.

The entire time, I couldn't help but notice Kevin. He was the closest to me, across from me and seemed to watch me. I'm not being immodest, I just noticed. I think I'm a handsome dude: 38, 5'10", 227 lbs., muscular (with some fluff I'm trying to get rid of and this drinking is NOT helping, I know, I know...). And this crowd was substantially younger than me, especially Kevin. If I were to guess, I'd say he was 27. He was tall, 6'4"ish, lean (as fuck), maybe 185 (or more) but with short sleeves I could see the veins in his arms. He had reddish, blonde hair with a matching none-too-thick beard. He had a chin that jutted out that seemed to accentuate his smile?and he smiled a lot. After round 3 (round 5 for me) everyone was smiling.

He told me what he did because there was some consternation amongst the group about how much he liked or didn't like his job. He showed me his Facebook page, his hobbies and some other stuff. We talked about the Seattle Freeze (it's a dumb thing people who live use an excuse not to have to talk to people) and how he was one of the few people from the area who agreed. He was warm, friend, his friends were great and I'm pretty sure one of the women was eye fucking me, but again, I'm on round 5...who knows! And it was clear it's as time for me to go.

Kevin mentioned his boyfriend was on the way and he wanted us to meet him and have a drink. I vacillated a bit before conceding that I'd have one more drink when his boyfriend arrived. After checking his phone, Kevin confirmed his arrival.

"He'll be here any minute now. He says he's trying to find parking."

He said something else but as I stumbled/skipped/slid to the bathroom, I was well out of earshot by then.

The bathroom is small, a couple of urinals and a stall. I stood at the urinal, staring at a foe ripe for the conquering. {NOTE: I have a large cock. I get up to 9" and when I am soft, I'm still pretty formidable A-thank you}. As I pulled my cock out of my pants and stared at the wall in front of me, I heard the door open. Loathe as I am to talk or interact in any bathroom any time anywhere, I didn't turn around. In my periphery i didn't see anyone stand at the stall next to me or open/close the toilet door. Suddenly nervous, I turned my neck slightly to the right and my eye dove even further to the right to casually see who was behind me.

It was Kevin.

"Hey" he said, sidling up to the neighboring stall.

"Hey" I muttered with a nervousness normally reserved for random stranger elevator greetings.

As a private person (almost a prude) I do not stand so far back from the urinal anyone could make out anything distinctive about my cock. I stand almost flush, using the edge of the urinal as a border/shield against any company I might get whilst I pee. Kevin was not that private. He was an exhibitionist, almost absurdly so. He was a good foot back from the urinal. I wasn't looking, again, this is all my peripheral vision. I could also tell he was looking at me.

In that moment, I will tell you chills went down my spine and I'm not sure what they were responding to. Was it the thrill of someone potentially confronting me in a bathroom for a sexual, illicit encounter? Or was it the fear that someone was going to attack me in my most vulnerable state? Given what you know (and I at the time knew) about Kevin, in hindsight it's easy to assume it was the former. But in that moment my friends, it was not so clear.

Kevin, however, was about to make it very clear.

He began to urinate, and I could hear the fluid hit the porcelain with such a pressure, I assumed he just drank a ton and hadn't gone in a while.

"Are you? "

"What!?" I snapped, still keeping my gaze forward. He giggled. He was amused.

"I was going to say, are you enjoying yourself?"

"Now? No."

He laughed again.

"With my friends and I?"

"Yeah, you guys are...cool."

"Are you nervous?"

I took a moment. This was a loaded question and I was so freaked out (good/bad) that my cock started to shrink...a lot. I still hadn't looked anywhere but at the wall...

"No, just gonna finish using the bathroom and go home."

"I thought you were going to have another drink when my boyfriend gets here."

Kevin inched closer to me, still facing the wall. The veracity of his stream began to subside, and I could feel really him loom. Being almost a head taller than me (maybe more), in my periphery his head craned down.

"What are you doing?"

"Returning the favor."

"What favor?"

"You were checking me out on the patio," placing his free hand on my shoulder. His far hand was out of my vision inside of his pants.

My reaction was to immediately recoil, moving my shoulder from under his grasp and stepping back. I put my cock away as I bursa ucuz eskort turned to face him.

"I think you have the wrong idea," I said, trying to grin and keep things civil.

"And your cock is cute."

I paused for what felt like an eternity because in that moment filled with fear, nervousness, confusion, curiosity, and lust, my ego jumped to the front of that line.

"It gets bigger. You're just freaking me out right now."

I mean, I said that. I didn't walk away. I didn't push him back. I punch him in the face. I didn't do any of the things had I been clearly, I would have done...

Me and my cock-pride.

"Oh I believe it gets bigger?"

"It does? "

"But it's still cute. And you're cute."

At this point we were almost chest to chest, with him having encroached so closely that I found myself leaning against the urinal for some semblance of space. I wanted space, but I didn't want to leave.

He rubbed his hand on my shoulder and I could feel my heart beginning to pound in my chest. It had been speeding up this entire encounter, but I could now feel it seemingly hitting with tremendous force against my left pectoral muscle. I could hear it internally, as I tightened up, my now dry and my voice was MIA. I looked up at him and spoke with my eyes. His smile was as large as I had seen it?the smile of a man who had everything going his way. I grinned back as much as I could. With all of my senses firing and wave and wave of endorphins coursing through my veins, I was paralyzed. I only knew this felt good and I didn't want to fight it anymore.

Somehow, I managed to swallow, barely dampening the barren wasteland of my mouth and throat.

"Take it back out."

I obeyed in silence, pulling my awkward and terrified cock out again. He looked down at it and smiled. I looked up at him and he leaned even closer. His hand formerly on shoulder had slid down over my bicep and he squeezed with a deceptive strength that belied his wiry frame.

"You're solid," he said, massaging my bicep up and down.

My cock began to swell in my hand as I had involuntarily begun to stroke it.

"I love to work out."

Our breathing became heavy and quite audible, all while breathing through our nostrils. We were two bulls breathing?damn near snorting, as our heart rates picked up the pace.

"I love big guys like you. I like how much size you have and how nice you are to wrap around me...to hold me." His hands moved down my arm and around to my ass, which contracted in response. "And I love big guys that have something I can hold onto."

"Yeah?"

"Mmm hmm."

His massive left hand palmed my right ass check like a volleyball. Like, if he were a professional basketball player who could palm a regulation basketball with ease, a volleyball which is significantly smaller would be dwarfed in his grasp...almost comically so. Whereupon he would have plenty of 'reach' to grip all the way around and then some. And he did?then some.

I didn't just feel short, I felt small under him. I felt weak and helpless and I have to say, I've rarely felt that good in my life. It was thrilling?his left hand on my ass, his right hand in his pants, my right hand jerking my cock, my left hand...my left hand...What was my left hand doing?

Previously my left hand had been braced up again the bathroom wall, but during all of this it made its way to his chest...his right pectoral muscle. Trying to palm his chest muscle proved difficult, but the attempt was nonetheless incredibly arousing. We pawed at each other for almost a minute (I think) before it happened. I saw his right arm move, his shoulder going up and I looked down.

He slowly pulled his cock up over his zipper and the elastic in his boxer briefs, forever unspooling. Once he had fully exposed himself, I GASPED. I mean, like, Soap Opera style.

What emerged from his pants is what could only be described as ferret sized. For those who have never seen a ferret, it is a seemingly spineless member of the rodent family and has all the flexibility of a slinky and is usually about a foot long. Now, he was not that long (I don't think) but goddamn just like Pavlov's Dog (DING!), my mouth was watering.

"Oh my God."

"I get that a lot."

"No, I mean oh my God."

"It's large, I know," he laughed.

"That's not large, that's...oh my God."

"That's another thing we have in common."

"We both have cocks?"

"No. They both get bigger."

And with that beast in his hand, he leaned forward and grabbed my cock, further astonishing me with the size of his hands. He began to stroke our cocks together. It was amazing watching his baguette of a cock next to mine. They both swelled, veins pulsing (we have very veiny cocks btw), skin stretching, blood coursing, balls tightening as he stroked us both back and forth, up and down, in and out, etc.

I felt myself get as hard as I've ever gotten, where so much blood bursa anal yapan escort filled my organ it was uncomfortable and even then, his cock grew still. I must have topped out at 9ish, again, all-time hardness and still I didn't match him. He squeezed our cocks and in my maxed-out state I could feel I didn't have much more runway before take-off.

"Wait! Wait!" I blurted out.

"What?"

"I'm gonna--I think I'm gonna?"

"Yeah, I bet you are. Look at how hard your cock is...it's still so cute."

With that I unlatched my hand from his chest and grabbed our (mostly his) cocks, so we were stroking in unison. We moaned at my touch.

"Your small hands feel so good on my cock."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. I've been looking for a good boy like you for a while."

"Good boy?!"

"Yup. There are a lot of fags around here, but they're all the same. I want a challenge. I want to earn this," he said with a hard squeeze of my ass. "And when I do, because I will, you will be my good...little...boy."

I don't think has ever happened before in my life, but at that moment my brain came. There was such a rush of endorphins that hit me I don't know how I was still standing. He hit all the right boxes at the exact right time to basically incapacitate me. And without any resistance, I began to descend onto my knees.

"Whoa! Whoa! What are you doing?" he said while grabbing under one of my arms, holding me up with seemingly little effort. "I didn't tell you to do that."

"I just?I just couldn't help myself," I said now standing fully straight up.

"When I tell you, you can give it a kiss or if you want to ask..."

"Can I kiss it?"

"Can you kiss it what?"

"Can I kiss it please?"

"That's my good boy," he said through a sheepish grin. As I lowered myself, I could see his cock was now hard and goddammit if that cock wasn't the most laden with veins I had ever seen (in person or on the internet). It smelled of some combination of sweat and lavender. TRUE. This guy, with a cock like this got it sucked OFTEN so I figure at the very least he was responsible for presentation.

The skin on the cock was an olive tone, tanned of a Mediterranean variety which contrasted with his pale body. No complaints, just an observation. As I held it in my hand, at its full length, it was a very muscular cock. Once it got hard, there was no give and it was HARD. I never asked him how large it was but judging from my own size and how it dwarfed my own, it was at least 11 inches long and 8 inches around. My own cock is about 7 inches around (and it was at full mast) and he had quite a bit of girth on me as well. It was like hold one of those noodle floating devices used to help people learn to swim-that hard foam. It wasn't steel, but you could barely indent it if you squeezed it. And it was heavy, God was it heavy, dense. Legitimately, if he hit you in the face with this thing, you'd get a black eye.

I looked it over, my mind reeling in attempts to comprehend what I was looking at, and I felt at peace. Whatever was going to happen in this bathroom was going to happen and I wouldn't regret a second of it. This was a moderately full bar, and NO ONE had to piss in the time we were in there. It was a miracle and also a freak occurrence, neither of which I am complaining about.

My mouth moved closer, now level with the beast, with lips pursed to pay proper respect and taste the skin of the near footlong fruit. When I got right up to the reddish head, my pursed lips opened, and I took the head in my mouth like a lollipop?just the head. Surprised, I could hear his gasp as I enveloped my full lips around it. If I'm comparing, having his head in my mouth was the equivalent of having a mandarin orange in my mouth. That's the scale we're talking about here.

I sucked on it like a lozenge, running my lips and tongue over it rhythmically. I held my hands around it like a baby nursing on a bottle, encouraging nutrients out of it like a newborn. I then removed it from my mouth and gazed upon it. It was majestic. I ran my tongue down the side of it to his taut abdomen and then all the way back to his plump head. I did this a few times on each side of his cock before re-inserting his head into my mouth. At which point, he grabbed my head with both hands, guiding my head and mouth down his cock.

On the first trip, I found myself unable to make it past halfway and on each subsequent trip, I could only make slightly past that. A glottal "GRPH" could be heard each time the back of my throat met his cock. After about 30 seconds and 10 or so trips, he stopped but continued to hold the back of my head.

"That's a good boy," he said standing me up.

He held my head in his hands and without hesitation, I leaned up to kiss him. He dodged me, moving his back while also moving mine back as well.

"Why not?" I said, my mouth parched with thirst.

"Not now. That's not for now. You've been a good boy and you've already gotten your treat. Did you like your treat?"

"I did."

"I knew you would. You like my muscles, too don't you?"

"You're so hard."

With that, he lifted up his shirt to reveal the thickest wall of brick abs I have ever seen. Each was bar of soap, surrounded by a deep indentation to suggest I was only looking at muscle and skin.