Bartender – A Gay Erotica Finalist Story

While bartending one evening, HE walks in. You know the type. The confident, intimidating alpha male that demands the room acknowledges his presence. His slate eyes indicate he is secretive, the way he dresses indicates discretion, but that smile, well that smile indicates he wants me, which makes me nervous. Nervous and hard with desire, Mr. Casen. 

bartender gay erotica story

He makes his way to the bar and I prepare his favorite, Macallan thirty, neat. Casen doesn’t come in often, but I have learned that when he does, it’s because it’s been a rough day at work. Two hours elapsed, he requests his check and fills out the necessary information, but tonight, instead of leaving, he continued to sit and wait. 

I made my way back over to him and asked if there was anything else he needed. Before he answers, I feel the heat of his gaze on my body. After what seemed to be an eternity of looking at his handsome face, he tells me he wanted to be sure I got tonight’s tip. While it is not uncommon for individuals to want their bartender to get the tip, there was something in the way he said it that indicated that he wasn’t talking about the money. 

He hands me the receipt along with a business card and leaves. On the back of the business card, he had written down his home address and a note: “come by after your shift.” 

After a long night of anticipation, my shift finally ends. I shoot Casen a text message asking if I was still invited even though it was two in the morning. He responds immediately with “the front door is unlocked.” I drive over to his home which isn’t far from the bar and as I approach his front door, Casen opens it wearing nothing but purple, silk boxers. 

I walk inside, my eyes still taking in his athletic physique and I feel myself growing hard against my jeans. I walk closer towards him, closing the space between us. I place my hands on his bare chest and kiss his lips. He pulls me in and guides me until I am pinned against the wall. His tongue roughly entangles with mine, and I feel his member growing and pressing against mine. He transitions from my mouth, kissing along my jaw, while simultaneously stroking my raging cock. He kisses his way to my ear and whispers “on your knees.” 

When a man as intimidating and desirable as he is tells you what to do, you do it. I drop to my knees and gently free him of his boxers. I stroke his thick, full cock and take in his intoxicating musk. I open my mouth and slowly run my tongue along the length of his velvety shaft before taking him deep in my throat. He places both his hands on the sides of my head as if to hold me right where he wanted me. He bucks his hips quickly, fucking my throught deep and hard.

He pauses and helps me to my feet as he guides me to the bedroom. “Here, make yourself comfortable,” he says as he pats the bed. I remove my clothes and take a seat as he disappears into another room. A few minutes later he returns to the bedroom with a black liberator wedge pillow, complete with cheetah print handcuffs. He places it beside me on the bed and moves to stand between my legs. He kisses me, hard. 

My hands begin to wander along his muscular torso. My finger trails down his chest to his belly button to the much loved “happy trail”. I slowly trail my finger along the hairline to his pubic bone and take him in my hand as I stroke him. He moans, full of gratitude, and wraps his hand lightly around my neck. “I want you,” he moans as he pulls my boxers off my hips. 

He gently pushes me back on the bed, kisses down my chest to my groin and takes me in his mouth. After sucking me for several minutes, he rolls me over on my stomach. “Lay over the pillow.” He commands. I do as I’m told, and the pillow hikes my hips up into the air, leaving me completely exposed. He restrains my wrists in the soft handcuffs and runs his hands down my back as he buries his mouth in my ass. He stops to spit on his fingers and begins to enter them inside of me. Gently to start, but the louder I moan the rougher he gets. 

“Please” I beg. 

“Please, what?”

“I want you inside me!” I plead.

He pauses and I hear the tearing of the foil from the condom. He spits between my buttocks and slowly inserts himself in me, filling every inch of my every desire. 

“Harder!” I beg.

He moans deeply, “I knew you were the one.” 

He grabs a handful of my hair and with the other hand strokes my cock in rhythm with his. The deep, hard thrusts bring me to the brink of orgasm and I collapse in a pleasurable haze.

I peer over at him with a grin on my face and say, “Damn right I’m the one! Now, remove the restraints.”

He removes the handcuffs and I roll him over so he’s laying on his back I position myself between his legs, inhaling his sweet musk and locking eyes with him before taking him in my mouth again, sucking him until he fills my mouth with his warm, salty, yet sweet cum.

Written by: Jordan Frances

I am a 31-year-old record specialist for a utility company. I love my job, but it can be stressful, and writing gives me an escape.

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