This Is Everybody

I signed the paperwork with a flourish.

My company had just purchased an entire block of property, down near the waterfront in the old town. The whole neighbourhood was a shithole, but I was going to clean it up.

We had plans for a modern office park. Tear down all those tiny little one and two story buildings and replace it with a set of towering skyscrapers. Retail down below, offices up above, and profit that would make your mouth water.

“I’m going for lunch,” I told my secretary. “Have my car ready.”

I rode the elevator down to the lobby and stepped into a black limo that was idling out front.

“Take us to the 1600 block of old town,” I said smugly. “I want to gloat a little.”

“Yes sir,” my driver said, smoothly merging into traffic.

“Look at this,” I said idly as we pulled through the narrow streets. “This whole area really got left behind, didn’t it?”

“Yes sir,” the driver said. I could hear some tension in his voice.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s just... well sir, my sister owns a restaurant near here,” my driver said cautiously. “She can’t afford rent closer to the core. There are a lot of little places like that here.”

“She’ll have more customers soon,” I said confidently. “It’ll only take a couple of years to build the new office park, then she’ll have hundreds of people who need lunch every day. Thousands.”

“Yes sir,” he said, sounding unconvinced.

“Take the left up ahead,” I instructed. “I want to circle the block a few times. We’re about to create a whole new neighbourhood. A better neighbourhood. If the people here aren’t ready for it, that’s their fault.”

“Yes sir,” my driver said again.

We were on our third pass around the block when I noticed there was a little bar, just opening up for the day. I rarely drink... but today I felt like celebrating.

“Pull in there,” I ordered. “I think I’ll get lunch.”

My driver gave me a sideways glance, but he pulled up to the building without complaint.

“Wait here,” I told him.

“I’m sorry sir, this is a loading zone,” he apologized.

“Fine, then circle the block until I’m done,” I shrugged. Why did I have to think of everything?

“Yes sir,” Jose said. I stepped out of the car and grinned as it pulled away. Alone and in the middle of nowhere – a little adventure.

The bar was called “Le Coq”, which is the french word for Rooster. Its sign showed a sketch of the bird, the kind of line art you’d expect from a Picasso.

I had to admit, I liked the style. I found myself hoping that the owner would remove the sign as a memento. The wrecking ball was coming.

A bell rang when I walked through the door. There were a couple of big rainbow flags hung up behind the bar, and the whole place was done up in chrome with neon pink accents. I’m not gay, but I don’t have any problem with them. Gays make good customers, and hey, it’s all the same liquor, right?

“Good afternoon,” I said formally, taking a seat at the bar. It was just me and a bartender in the place.

“Hey,” the bartender said, giving me a friendly grin. He was a muscular young man with short brown hair, packed into a tight black t-shirt. He kept a bar towel draped over one shoulder. “What can I get you?”

“I’m celebrating. Let’s do an old fashioned.”

“You got it,” he nodded, his hands moving with practiced ease. “What’s the occasion?”

“Well... I just bought this entire block,” I said, trying to sound modest.

“Oh?”

“Two years from now, this is all going to be a beautiful new office park,” I said proudly. “It’s really going to bring this area to life.”

The bartender set my drink in front of me and paused for a moment.

“What’s wrong with the life we have?” he asked.

“This is better. Bigger. Modern.”

“This bar is important to our community,” the bartender said.

“This office park will revitalize the area,” I insisted. “There will be a lot more white collar workers coming here every day. That means more money for the community, more customers for your businesses.”

The bartender was shaking his head. Small minded people always want to get in the way of progress.

“It’s not about money,” he protested.

“It’s always about money.”

“No,” the bartender sighed. “Sometimes it's about community.”

I shook my head and took a sip of my drink.

“This area is home to a lot of different communities,” the bartender insisted. “There are so many different ethnic restaurants you can’t find anywhere else – Vietnamese, Korean, Mexican. And of course, this is the oldest gay bar in the city.”

“You’ll move it,” I shrugged, taking another drink.

“But this is where we dance.”

“You’ll dance somewhere else.”

The bartender chewed his lip for a moment.

“I don’t suppose you’d come by at night?” he suggested. “See how many people come to this place? See how important it is?”

“I’m sorry... uh...”

“Joe.”

“I’m sorry Joe,” I said. “The paperwork is signed. This is happening.”

“Just come by for one night,” Joe insisted.

“I don’t think so,” I said, regretting my decision to even visit the area. My public relations people should be handling this sort of concern. “Besides, I’m in bed by nine o’clock every night. No good comes from staying out all night – no, get a good nights sleep and you’ll be a wealthy man.”

That’s when I noticed Joe’s eyes. They were a vivid green, and they seemed to flash with rage.

“Look, I promise you, the new office complex is going to be amazing,” I said. “It’s got plenty of commercial space on the lower level, and we’d be happy to lease some so you can keep your business in the same location. The rent might be a little higher, but your customers will love it.”

“I don’t want a new place,” the bartender sighed. “I won’t move this bar into some soulless office building and pretend like it’s the same.”

“Then the gays will find a new place to drink,” I shrugged. “Look, I’m going to buy out your current lease, so you’ll get a nice chunk of change to move with.”

The bartender glared at me with a furrowed brow. I decided it was time to make my exit.

“What do I owe you?” I asked, pulling out a hundred dollar bill.

“I don’t want your money,” the bartender said, waving away my payment. “I’m takin’ care of you.”

I was surprised, but I put the hundred back in my wallet.

“Thank you,” I said, emptying my glass. “I appreciate it.”

“What’s your name?” Joe asked as he took my glass away.

“John,” I said, reaching out to shake his hand. “John Sturgeon.”

“I'll see you around, John Sturgeon.”

--------------

I live in the countryside, about twenty minutes outside the city. I like having a little bit of land, and I don’t like to hear my neighbours. It's quiet at the house, once the staff leaves for the day – even quieter since Jacquie and I divorced last year. Some nights it feels like I’m all alone in the world.

Still, I followed the same routine I always have. A cup of herbal tea out on the patio, then early to bed. Jacquie always wanted to linger and talk, something that annoyed me practically every night. Without her here, I could treat my routine with the discipline it deserved. It was 8:58 when I climbed into bed and closed my eyes.

I don’t typically remember my dreams, but this one was too weird to forget. I was dancing, packed into a room full of colourful lights and mirrors and sweaty men. I’ve never been a dancer, but in the dream my hips were moving fluidly, grinding against the air.

The fixtures were chrome. The accents were hot pink. I recognized it as the bar from earlier. Le Coq. Joe must have snuck into my subconscious.

He was there, serving drinks behind the bar. Joe caught my eye and flashed me a satanic grin. My body wouldn’t stop moving to the beat.

The music was insidious. At first I was trying to reason it out – dreams always have a purpose. As the minutes ticked by, the dance beat pushed into my mind, infecting me and reducing me to a purely physical being. Every muscle was working together to keep the dance going.

I spun around and caught sight of myself in the mirror. I’m in my 50’s with greying hair and a gut... but in the dream I was young again. Handsome in a way I never was. The mirror showed a young man with short black hair.

Even when I was young, I’d never been the type to hit the gym – but in the dream I clearly knew where to find the weight room. I was covered with thick muscle, wearing pair of tight white shorts and a red tanktop. I looked fucking amazing.

It seemed so real. I looked almost felt like I belonged.

I kept dancing, falling deeper into the trance with each passing second. Soon my body didn't strike me as unusual or even important – all I cared about was the beat. I kept a wide smile plastered on my face, my eyes wide and unfocussed. Every so often I'd catch a glimpse of Joe smirking at the bar. I’d long since stopped caring.

The bar got busier as the night went on, and I found myself pressed up against other dancers. It didn't matter to me that the bar was full of sweaty men... all that mattered was the dance.

My body felt young and strong and horny. As my eyes wandered across the crowd, I realized I wanted to dance with somebody.

I picked a guy and started dancing with him. He moved closer to me, keeping his body tight against mine. He was young and shredded – smaller and shorter than me, but every bit as beautiful. His hair was lighter than mine, a coppery brown, and his eyes were an intense green.

I couldn’t remember being this hard. Not for a wife, not for a prostitute. The thought flashed through my mind and vanished, only serving to make me even harder.

“I’m Mike,” he said, after an eternity together.

“Jonny,” I grinned. It was the first word I said all night. My name sounded strange and foreign to me. Ridiculous, right?

“Can I buy you a drink?” Mike asked, running his hand over my bare chest.

“Yeah,” I grinned. He grabbed my hand and pulled me toward the bar.

“Joe, can I get a couple shots of tequila?” he called.

The bartender gave him a quick grin and pulled a bottle down off the shelf.

“I don’t think I've seen you around – oh hey!” Mike called, waving past me.

“Dude you totally ditched us!” one young guy said. I shouldn’t say young... we were the same age.

“Hey, I see why,” another laughed.

All told, five guys had suddenly shown up to tease Mike.

“Uh, hey everybody, this is Jonny,” Mike said, pulling his hand on my shoulder. “Jonny, this is everybody!”

"Last call!” I heard Joe’s voice boom over the music. The dance floor emptied out as people rushed for one last drink before their night ended. Mike and I downed our shots and headed out for one more dance.

Then the lights went up and the music cut out. The bar was closing and groups of men were moving toward the entrance. It was over...

I woke up in bed, sweaty and tired. My heart was beating fast like I’d been having a nightmare, but there was no terror, just a sudden sense of loss and longing.

What had I been dreaming about? Lights and music? It was all fading away.

I couldn't remember. My alarm was going off, a steady beeping. It was six in the morning, and I'd overslept by almost an hour. I jumped out of bed and ran for the bathroom. The mirror startled me – I was older, balding, out of shape...

But that’s just how I look.

The dream faded away quickly and I turned my attention towards getting ready for work. There was no time for meditation or breakfast, but at least I had time for a shower.

As I brushed my teeth, my toe tapped out a rhythmic beat. It didn’t seem familiar, it must be something I heard on the radio. I'd slept so poorly that I was probably imagining it. I was exhausted.

Exhausted and happy.

--------------

“It’s going to be a three coffee kind of a day,” I told my secretary. She didn’t comment on my tardiness – nobody would – but she gave me a kind nod. Five minutes later she placed a steaming cup on my desk as I worked through my email.

“Will there be anything else?” she asked.

“No, thank you,” I said, taking an eager sip. I felt like I’d been awake all night, but that wasn’t right. I’d gone to bed exactly on time. A full nights sleep is important.

Oh well, you can’t control everything in life.

“The finance meeting for the Old Town project is at 9 o’clock,” my secretary reminded me. “Conference Room A.”

I nodded and tried to focus on email.

I arrived in the conference room at 9:05. I do my best to respect everyone's time, but let’s be real, meetings can’t start without me.

“Good morning Mr. Sturgeon,” said my Chief Financial Officer.

“Good morning,” I yawned. “Let’s get started.”

The CFO hit a button and the room dimmed, a powerpoint presentation lighting up the far wall. I tried to focus on it, but the numbers were blurring together. Eventually I yawned, right in the middle of one of my CFO’s infamous asset breakdowns.

“Excuse me,” I said, stamping down another yawn. “I apologize. I slept poorly last night, please continue.”

The CFO gave me a nod and continued through the presentation. Eventually the lights were back up. I had no idea what was going on, I just nodded whenever someone glanced at me. Finally the room emptied out and it was just me and my CFO.

“Is anything bothering you John?” he asked.

“No,” I said, maybe a little too emphatically. Honestly... I feel good today. Just tired.”

“Okay. Try and get some sleep. This project is going to move fast.”

“You got it,” I said. I was ready to drop.

Why did I feel so good?

--------------

I considered going to bed early, but routine matters, so I sat on the patio and had my cup of tea. Sunset is beautiful at the house – it’s one of the reasons why Jacquie had chosen the location. I hoped for a better sleep tonight. Maybe she’d been right about working too much.

I hummed as I walked inside.

I fell asleep easily. Memories from the night before came flooding back as I found myself at Le Coq again. I was already dancing, already half-naked and sweaty. Last night I’d worn shorts and a tanktop, tonight I was down to a pair of colourful shorts. My powerful chest was bare, bouncing as I danced.

I felt amazing. Invigorated. After dragging my ass around the office all day, I finally had some energy. I was like a dying smartphone that finally found its charger.

I spun and shook, checking myself out in the mirror. My body looked great. Young and vibrant. My shorts were ridiculous – neon orange scraps of fabric, more suited to a life jacket or a hunting vest.

Just like last time, the music was forcing its way into my mind. My day... all my days... they were filled with thoughts of tension and money and power. The music wiped that away, replacing all that garbage with the freedom to dance. I needed to shake my ass.

I caught sight of Joe. The bartender was busy making drinks, but he glanced up and gave me a smile, both sinister and satisfied in the same look. I grinned back and waved.

“Jonny?” I heard someone shout behind me. It was Mike, dressed to impress in a black tank and blue jeans.

“Hey!” I said, excited to see him again.

“You disappeared last night,” Mike said, teasing me. “Where'd you go?”

“Nowhere...” I said. I knew I couldn’t explain. I barely remembered anyway... something about an office?

“That answer sucks,” he sighed dramatically. “It’s lucky you’re hot.”

“You wanna dance?” I asked, still moving my body to the music.

“Maybe in a little while,” Mike said, gesturing across the bar with his head. “We’re gonna play some pool – wanna be on my team?”

“For sure!”

He took me over to a pool table where two other guys our age were waiting. One of them was a hispanic guy who packed his athletic body into a tight red tee. The other one was a thin white guy with bold fashion choices.

Like I could talk. I was standing there in dayglo shorts and hightops.

“Jonny, this is my roommate, Carlos,” he said, pointing at the hispanic guy. “And our friend Alex.”

“Hey man," Carlos said, leaning in and giving me a fistbump.

“Hiiiii!” Alex said flamboyantly, coming in for a hug. He squeezed me tight. I haven't been hugged like that in... I couldn’t even remember.

“Down boy,” Mike laughed. “I got dibs.”

“Spoilsport,” Alex said. He gave Mike a saucy wink.

“He’s like this with muscle dudes,” Carlos explained with a shrug. “Maybe we hit the gym sometime bro.”

Mike took our first shot, then Carlos. By the time my third shot came around we were all joking like old friends. Carlos took the winning shot, but he’s not the gloating type.

The game flew by. It wasn’t long until Mike and I were back on the dance floor, moving our bodies in unison.

His lips met mine and I felt electricity surge between us. My cock jumped again and I ground into him even harder. He spun me around and pushed his bulge against my bouncing cheeks. Mike kissed the back of my neck as we moved to the music.

We danced together for hours, making out and feeling each other up. I’d never done anything like this with a guy... but did that matter? It felt good, and I felt good, and I just wanted to keep dancing.

“Last call,” I heard Joe call out, his voice rising above the music.

“Do you wanna get outta here?” Mike shouted in my ear. “I live close.”

He squeezed my package through my neon shorts. I didn’t know what would happen next, and the thought just turned me on more. I nodded in eager anticipation.

Mike turned and headed for the coatcheck. I followed, moving off the dance floor as the music clicked off and the lights went up. My cock was so hard...

I woke up bed, sweaty and tired and horny.

My alarm was beeping, a relentless beat that made me want to move my body. I glanced at the time – almost seven o’clock! I was incredibly late.

I hurried through a quick shower. My cock demanded my attention, but I didn’t have the time – that would have to wait until later. I hadn’t felt this horny in years. Maybe decades.

I got to the office a half hour late. My eyes were red and my tie was messy. I looked like I’d been out binge drinking all night. My secretary had a cup of coffee waiting in anticipation.

I was a mess. I knew I was a mess.

But it didn’t matter. My head was full of music.

--------------

I was in another fucking meeting. This time we were going over the designs for the new office park. The architect had put together a presentation, but I wasn't listening. My mind had been overrun by a thumping club beat.

My cock was painfully hard. That was all I could think about, my cock and my music.

“The existing neighbourhood has a rich history,” the architect was saying. He was a young man, somewhere in his mid-thirties. He was wearing a suit, but his shirt was tight enough that I could imagine his toned chest underneath. I wondered if he was hairy or smooth.

I tried to focus again, the pounding in my head making it almost impossible. He was showing a series of pictures on screen, clicking through old photos of the area one at a time. One photo caught my eye.

It was Le Coq, an old black and white photo that must have been fifty years old. There was a man standing in front of the bar – black t-shirt with a towel over his shoulder, an evil grin on a handsome face. I’d recognize Joe anywhere.

He hadn’t aged a day.

“When was that taken?” I asked, my mouth hanging open.

“Sir?” I heard.

“That picture. When was that taken?” I asked again.

The architect glanced at a member of his team. A young woman who was trying to look older.

“Um... the photos in the presentation were all taken in the 1970’s,” she said. “I don’t know the exact date of –“

“Thank you,” I snapped. “Excuse me, I’m afraid I need to step out.”

I got up and headed out of the room. Behind me I could hear the architect asking if they should continue without me. Please... I didn’t want to be in some stupid meeting...

I stumbled into my office, ignoring my secretary and slamming the door. A photo from forty or fifty years ago... how could Joe look the same? It was impossible, but the evidence was there.

Magic. It had to be magic. I was so tired, I was so horny... I couldn't think of any other option. The pieces snapped together in my mind. Whatever had been happening to me these last couple of days... it had to be Joe!

I grabbed my cock through my pants. I was so hard. I was so horny.

I needed to clear my mind!

I stepped into my private washroom and locked the door. I fumbled with my belt and dropped my pants, grabbing at my cock. I’d never done this before... not at the office...

I needed it!

I made a fist and started pumping my cock. I’ve never had great endurance – Jacquie always complained that it was over before she had any fun... but I couldn’t make myself cum. I stroked myself over and over in a desperate frenzy. All I did was make it worse. I was on the edge, and every stroke of my cock just led to more edge...

My secretary knocked at the door. How long had I been in the bathroom?

“Is everything okay sir?” she called with worry.

“Yes,” I shouted back. I dropped my cock angrily and pulled up my pants. This wasn’t working. This wasn’t going to work. “Call my car, have him waiting downstairs.”

I was a mess when I got in the car. I forgot my jacket upstairs and I hadn’t bothered to tuck in my shirt. I caught a look at myself in the mirror – I was sweaty and exhausted. I probably needed to go to the hospital.

I told my driver to head for Le Coq.

“Yes sir,” he said, pretending not to notice the state I was in. He avoided making smalltalk, keeping his eyes entirely on the road.

I was vibrating when we got there.

“Shall I circle the block sir?” he asked.

“Yeah, okay,” I mumbled, jumping out of the car and heading straight for the door. I heard the car pull away behind me. The door was locked.

I pounded on the glass until Joe showed up. He took his time, unlocking the deadbolt with a teasing smirk.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” I demanded, pushing in past the bartender. The bar looked totally different in the daylight... oh god... had I been here at night? I remembered dancing all night... someone danced all night...

“Calm down Jonny,” the bartender said with a chuckle. “You’re gonna have a stroke.”

“Don’t call me... what did you call me?” I gasped, remembering more. Jonny. That’s what I’d called myself in the dreams. The dreams that must have been real. “What are you doing to me!”

“It’s quite simple,” Joe said with a sad smile. “You tried to hurt me. I’m stopping you the only way I know how.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded.

“You tried to fuck me,” Joe shrugged. “And for money! Shame on you! Life should be about friends and fucking and fun! I’m setting you on a new path. A better path.”

Anger surged through me again. I couldn't think clearly... my cock... the music... the rage...

Something inside me broke.

“GO FUCK YOURSELF! I’M GONNA GET A SLEDGEHAMMER! I’M GONNA KNOCK THIS PLACE DOWN!” I screamed in the quiet room.

“Whoa, Jonny boy, calm down,” Joe laughed. “I’ve played this game many times. I always win.”

“I’M GONNA TURN THIS BAR INTO RUBBLE!” I seethed. “AND I’M GONNA PISS ON ITS ASHES!”

I could feel veins bulging out of my neck. My mind was so clouded with anger and lust, I couldn’t remember what I just said. My god... the music just wouldn’t stop.

I wanted to shake my ass so bad. I was at the club, wasn’t I? You dance at the club, don’t you?

“Don’t worry Jonny,” the bartender said, shrugging off my threat. “I’m taking care of you. You’re even gonna thank me.”

I screamed incoherent rage in his face. And the fucker just laughed.

“See you tonight Jonny,” he chuckled.

--------------

I barely remembered the drive home. How dare he fuck with my life? But at the same time, I just wanted to go back and meet up with my friends... and I desperately needed to cum.

I stared out the window as we pulled up the driveway. My gardener was there, a young guy in his twenties, working shirtless out front – I just wanted to grind my cock against his...

“Mr. Sturgeon,” he said. I realized I was staring at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah...” I said, shaking my head. “Yeah... just... go home for the day, okay?”

I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to sleep. I wanted to cum. I wanted to dance. I wanted everything to go back to normal. I wanted to go back to the club.

I sent the whole staff home – the gardener, the chef, the cleaner. Ten minutes later the last car was on its way out. I was alone. Thank god.

I stripped down, leaving clothes strewn through the house. A shirt in the living room, a shoe in the hallway, my tie on the kitchen counter. I ran the shower until it was icy cold and stepped under – for half a second my cock seemed to relax slightly.

But only half a second. It was still angry and hard, needy and urgent. And no amount of stroking or tugging would make a difference. My body was driving me wild, refusing to give me what I needed.

One good orgasm... I knew that was all I needed.

But it wasn’t coming. I wrapped a towel around my thick waist, disgusted by what I saw in the mirror. I wanted to be young and beautiful. I wanted to be dancing.

I went to bed early. I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow. I knew exactly where I was going.

Le Coq was almost empty when I stepped inside. Joe was there, behind the bar as always. And then a half-dozen guys scattered around the room having drinks.

The bartender glanced over at me and gave a friendly nod. He stuck out his tongue and flexed his hand into a pair of devil horns. He looked pleased at my early arrival.

I could feel the anger inside me washing away with the steady rhythm of the music. I felt relaxed for the first time all day.

I was wearing a classic look – a white tee and jeans. I liked the way the tee squeezed my biceps. In a few hours, once the place got rowdy, I’d ditch the look – I was wearing a rainbow jockstrap underneath, and I was excited to show it off. My neon shorts were a bold look, but this was a whole new level.

Intellectually, I knew this was wrong. I wasn’t young, I wasn’t pretty, and I didn’t belong in some gay bar. Except... I felt like I belonged.

“Hey Joe,” I said, sliding onto a barstool. “Gimme a beer.”

A cool pint landed in front of me.

“Good to see you back Jonny,” the bartender said, giving me a wink. “Hey, you left your shirt here last night. I added it to the box.”

I chuckled. Right... Joe keeps a box of all the clothes I leave behind. He’s a cool guy like that.

I sat and drank my beer, chatting occasionally with Joe and enjoying the ambience.

It was getting crowded when Mike showed up. I saw his coppery hair moving through the bar. Joe pointed him at me as he served Mike a shot and a cocktail. Mike’s face split open into a wide grin.

I gave him an inviting smile, waving for him to come over.

“Hey!” he said, taking the stool next to mine. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.

“Yeah?” I laughed. “I was hoping the same thing.”

“Oh yeah?”

“I really want your cock...” I said, surprised at the words. My cock was so hard, trapped inside my jockstrap. He got me so fucking hot...

“Relax Jonny,” Mike said, reaching out and rubbing my neck. “I’m gonna tag that ass. Don’t you worry.”

“Yeah?” I said, giving him a playful grin.

“Yeah,” he echoed. “But you gotta stop vanishing every night. Major cinderella vibes, y’know?”

I chuckled. Mea culpa.

“You can’t blame it all on Jonny,” Joe said, stepping over and leaning close. “He’s a rescue.”

“No shit,” Mike said, giving me a once over. “I never woulda guessed.”

“Huh?” I asked. “What’s a rescue?”

“Every so often I meet a guy who needs a new path in life,” Joe shrugged. “The last few nights, I’ve been pulling Jonny here, giving him a taste of what it’s like to hang with us. He’s living to lives right now...”

I took a sip of my beer. I remembered – John, the cash obsessed CEO. Jonny, dancing and laughing and making friends.

“I gotta admit... this is more fun,” I shrugged.

“You’re welcome to stay,” Joe offered. “Or you can go back to your boring straight life... all you gotta do is choose where to cum.”

“I uh... I tried earlier...” I admitted, feeling embarrassed about it. “At my office. I just couldn’t.”

“Yeah, well... for you... I stacked the cards a little,” Joe admitted. “You wanna be John Sturgeon, that’s no problem. Just promise me you won’t knock down my bar, I’ll let ye' jerk off in the morning. But if you wanna stay... I’m sure Mike would help you out.”

Joe pulled a set of keys from his pocket. He held up a gold key.

“There is a couch in my office,” he said, handing Mike the keys. “Just in case you need one.”

--------------

My cock was so hard, straining to get out.

We barrelled into Joe’s office. It was small – just a desk and a couch that saw plenty of action. I caught sight of a box in the corner, full of my clothes. The volume dropped as soon as the door shut. It was almost quiet in the office. We didn’t need to shout.

He kissed me deeply.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. “It’s like a one way street, I think.”

I slipped out of my shirt and kicked off my jeans, adding both of them to the box. It was just me in a jockstrap now, open and exposed.

“Yeah man...” I begged. “Fuck me. I want your cock so bad...”

I was so horny. I was so excited. I was fuckin’ ready!

“Yeah,” he echoed. He turned me around and planted my hands on the back of the couch. I leaned into it, sticking out my ass and flexing it slightly.

Of course there was lube nearby. I felt the cool sensation against my asshole as Mike got me ready.

I could feel Mike’s hard cock pressed up against my hole. I was poised on the edge. I needed Mike’s cock so bad... but all my money... all my power...

Who needed it? All I wanted to do was dance.

I pushed myself onto his cock. I let out a gasp as it slipped into my hole...

Oh god... it felt so much bigger inside me...

“Uuuuuuuhhhhhhnnn...” I moaned.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” Mike chuckled. He thrust into me slowly, taking his time to open up my ass. “You like riding cock?”

“Uh...” I moaned under him. “Uh huh...”

“Good boy,” Mike said. I could practically hear the smirk. He was picking up the pace, moving past his cautious entry and really lighting up my ass. My cock was straining against my rainbow jock, trying desperately to get out.

He grabbed my hips, guiding me onto his cock, over and over. No foreplay. No kissing. Just two men fucking like animals. I was in heat. All I cared about was how good he made me feel.

Mike was grunting. I was sweating and moaning. I lost track of time.

“I’m gonna...” he grunted, thrusting even harder. Every thrust rattled through my mind, leaving John further and further behind... John was a boring asshole... Jonny was one hot piece of ass...

“Uhhhh... unf....” Mike moaned, flooding my ass with cum. I felt my own cock jerk, spewing hot cum into the pouch of my jockstrap.

“Oh yeah...” I mumbled, collapsing into the couch. I could feel the world shifting around me, new memories taking the place of old ones. My degree in acting. My job at the deli. My studio apartment.

“What’s up?” Mike asked, falling beside me on the couch.

“I’m such a slut,” I laughed, remembering all the nights... all the men...

Mike fell beside me on the couch. One of my best buddies. I can’t believe we finally fucked.

“Yeah you are,” he said, giving me a knowing grin.

--------------

Mike and I stayed on the dance floor for hours, my dancing growing more and more energetic as men filled the room past capacity. The music got louder and louder, the rhythm faster, the beats sicker...

I had everything I needed.

Sweat poured down me as I moved my body to its limit. Other guys tried to catch my eye, but I was already caught.

The music pounded through my mind, just like Mike’s cock had pounded through my ass. It filled me, keeping me warm and happy.

“Last call,” I heard Joe shout. A hundred guys must have flooded off the dance floor to get one more shot before they headed home to fuck. A few guys stayed near me, staring at my body with lust. Too bad for them – I was going home with Mike.

I didn’t step off the dance floor until the music stopped. I kept dancing, but just barely. Just enough to satisfy the music in my head.

“Hey slut,” Mike grinned, giving me a kiss. “C’mon, let’s head back to my place.”

“Yeah, I just gotta grab my stuff,” I said.

“Don’t disappear this time,” Mike said pointedly.

I laughed at the idea. Give up a chance to ride Mike's cock? Nah, I wasn’t going anywhere.

“I promise,” I said, giving him another little kiss. “Meet me out front.”

I ran Joe’s office and picked up my box, piled high with my discarded clothes. I pulled out a pair of tiny neon shorts – I didn’t want to get arrested on the way to Mike’s place.

And then I was off, headed for the door. Happy and excited.

“Hey, Jonny!” I heard Joe call from behind the bar. I stopped reluctantly, eager to find Mike. I was hoping he’d be up for a second round tonight.

“Oh, hey Joe!” I said, giving him a wide grin.

“I guess you decided to stay, huh?” Joe asked, cleaning up behind the bar as we chatted. “You still wanna get a sledgehammer and knock down the bar?”

“Huh?” I said in confusion. I vaguely remembered saying something like that... but I’d never say something like that, would I? “Nah man, this is like... my place!” I said, turning and slapping my ass. “The only thing I want jackhammered is this ass!”

“Alright,” Joe chuckled kindly. “Run along... and Jonny...”

“Yeah?”

“Welcome to the neighbourhood.”