Date: Tue, 5 Mar 2002 00:48:36 EST
From: And9082398@aol.com
Subject: A Night at the Karaoke Bar (part 1)

It was a cold night that Monday, and we were trying to figure out the best
outfits for getting some play.  My best friend Charlie (a girl) and I were
planning on going out for a night on the town, stopping at a few of our
favorite bars along the way.  She finally settled on a tight black dress with
fishnet stockings and black stiletto heels before picking out my outfit: a
pair of very tight-fitting gray slacks with a tight black tee-shirt and white
long-sleeved shirt to provide extra warmth before trekking out into the
blistering frigid weather of the Northeast.  We donned our warmest coats,
gloves, scarves and hats (very carefully to avoid mussing our hair) and left,
locking the door behind us.

Our first stop, as custom would have it, was to our local hang-out: right
across the street from our apartment.  It was a local dive - you know the
kind of place: dark bar, stools on one side, red ripped couches on the other
with stuffing falling out.  Before we could even get our coats off and size
up the room, our bartender buddy called to us: "Andy, Charlie, the usual?"

I guess I forgot to introduce myself.  My name is Andy, and my favorite drink
is, well, actually, I'll drink anything strong.  Usually, I'll get a Long
Island Iced Tea at that bar mostly because the bartender makes them awfully
strong and, because Charlie had a little thing going with him a while back,
he'll often give us a second on the house.  I'm sure you'd rather hear more
about me than Charlie, though... so here's a little bit of mind candy for those
of you with active imaginations.

I am 5'11, although I'm usually taller because I put on shoes with a bit more
height to them, and have blue eyes and short dirty blond hair which I
highlighted with a silvery dye to give it an interesting look.  I run and
swim every day after class and therefore have a very firm body - thin waist,
strong legs and arms, and tight ass.  I like the way it looks and, as such,
take every effort to ensure that it can be admired without the obstruction of
unnecessary and unsightly body hair.  I'm also 21 years old and in my last
semester of school at a prestigious university (although damned if I'll share
which one.  Who knows: maybe you'll recognize yourself in one of my
"published" works later?).

In any case, back to the bar...  We slap down into the stools and in only a few
minutes have emptied our glasses.  "We're ready for a big night out," Charlie
says as she winks at the bartender.

"It sure does look like it," he replies.  "You know, there is a great karaoke
bar downtown.  You guys might have a really good time."

Charlie gives him the once-over.  "What type of a bar is this?  Who'll have a
good time, me or Andy?  Or both?"

"Well, from what I hear, this is one for Andy.  I've personally never checked
it out, but I've got some pretty reliable sources."

We both looked at each other and Charlie conceded that at least one of us
should get lucky that night.  I smiled and we both ordered two B-52's to
shoot before leaving.  After finishing off the alcohol in roughly 20 minutes,
we were both pleasantly buzzed and decided to check out this bar.

Directions in hand, we hailed a cab and were on our way to what would be a
very memorable night... the cabbie chuckled as we gave him directions but
nonetheless drove us through a seedy part of town to a deserted-looking
building.  We walked up with trepidation, but our collective interest was
piqued.

We walked up to the door and knocked tentatively.  Hearing loud music from
inside, we figured we were in the right place, but nonetheless felt
uncomfortable, scared and frostbitten.  The door flung wide open, and we knew
that we were in the right place!

Strobe lights flashed intermittently in our eyes but we could still make out
that the walls were decorated with neon colors and tropical decorations.
There was a stage in one corner of the large room and an overpowering smell
of suntan lotion.  With each step, Charlie and I felt sand gritting beneath
our shoes.

Once our eyes acclimated, I was able to take in the most astonishing sight:
the guys that filled the bar.  A busboy came up to us and asked to check our
coat; I was dumbfounded and couldn't think of a word to say.  He was shorter
than I, perhaps 5'8 or so, with brown hair and green eyes and a perfectly
white smile.  It was the rest of him, though, that took my breath away.  He
wore only a pair of tight-fitting short swim trunks and a ratty pair of
flip-flops - the rest of him was visible to the naked eye.  He was
well-muscled and smooth with large, erect nipples (probably from standing so
close to the door).  The suit accentuated his bubble butt in the rear and
what looked like a promising tube up front.  We couldn't let ourselves be
blinded by the first guy, though - we kept heading in after exchanging our
coats for a coat-check ticket.

In another corner of the room, there was a large, low table surrounded by
guys.  On closer inspection, we realized that there was one nude young man
lying flat on the table, stomach down, being massaged with sun-tan oil by all
of the surrounding guys who were in various states of undress.  Since that
appeared to be the center of the action, I pulled Charlie along with me to
that area.

Before making it there, however, we were stopped by a large splayed-out hand,
attached to one of the largest, most muscular men I have ever seen.  He must
have been 6'5, very German-looking, wearing full leather and a policeman's
cap - straight out of Tom of Finland.  In a heavily-accented voice, he
informed us that the only way to gain access to the table was by performing
karaoke on stage.  Charlie smirked; I love to be the center of attention and
thought the performance would not be a problem.

I walked over to the stage and approached the karaoke MC - a washed-out drag
queen with a frizzy wig.  He/she asked me what I liked to sing; I replied
that, with this set-up, Blondie's "The Tide is High" would be perfect.  This
met with a devilish smile - I was given a Hawaiian shirt and Speedos to wear.
 I asked where the changing room was... "Honey, you're not afraid of a few guys
seeing what you have to offer, are you?"  With that, Charlie pulled me aside.

"Are you going to go through with this, Andy?  Or should we just leave?" she
asked.  I knew that this would be an evening that I would regret missing if I
gave up.  "Charlie, go on home, or back to 'our bar.'  Don't worry about me;
I'll catch a cab.  Call one to pick you up before going back outside."

"Andy, there's no way I'm leaving you alone in here, especially because I
really want to see if you've got the balls to go through with this."  We have
always been competitive, sometimes even going after the same guy, and this
challenge would be no exception.

I hopped onto the stage and gave a catcall whistle, drawing the attention of
all of the patrons, even those at the massage table.  The drag queen put on
some slow, stripping music, and I rose to the challenge.

Slowly, I began to unbutton my shirt, revealing my tee-shirt underneath.
First one button, then the next, until my shirt was unbuttoned to my belt.  I
was starting to get aroused and knew that, once I had removed my pants, there
would be no turning back.  It was obvious to the guys at the bar, too, that I
was primed and ready for a good time.  Cheers rang out throughout the
establishment and I slowly, gently, began to loosen my belt.  With a
flourish, I ripped it out of the belt hooks and threw it out into the crowd.
(Little did I know that it would be picked up and used later - but I'll save
that for another edition of this night.)  I quickly unfastened my pants and
pulled them to the floor.  As the pants came down, something else came up,
and poked out through the front of my boxers.

I am blessed with a well-shaped and nicely-hung dick - 8" hard and
circumcised - that rarely fails to please.  So, when it made its appearance
that night, earlier than I had expected, the crowd went wild.  I tried to
push it back through the fly, but it just came right back out.  I gave up the
pretenses of stripping and ripped the rest of my clothes off, tossing them,
for the most part, at the shocked Charlie standing in the corner.

The music started and I hurriedly put on the shirt, although the Speedos sat
unused at my feet.  I started to belt out the Blondie song to a crowd that
was growing less excited by my performance.  To spice things up, I decided to
start a new segment of the show.  I made eye contact with the coat-check boy
and beckoned for him to come up on the stage with me.  I started to grind up
against him, me naked and him in just the tight shorts.  Before long, we had
the eyes of everyone in the bar.  He turned towards me, grabbed the
microphone and put it down.  He looked deep into my eyes and, in seconds, was
kissing me and brutally jacking my cock.  The music changed to fast-paced
Latin jazz and before long, we were on the stage floor rolling around.  He
moved around, placing his ass in front of my face and making motions for me
to pull off his swim trunks.  I pulled them down to the cheers of the crowd
and began to give him a good solid rim job.

Before long, the entire bar had erupted into an orgy, with Charlie just
sitting at the bar drinking as much as possible.  One of the massage table
guys had moved in behind me and was solidly ramming his dick up my ass as I
gyrated and kept on going with the coat-check boy.  Soon, the entire stage
was stained with fresh cum.  The only male bystander was the German...

(end of part one)