The Warehouse Read online

  Still, they continued to wave me over, and I didn’t want to ignore them so I climbed down from the bar and started to walk over to where they were. I heard the sighs of disappointment, and I looked back to see a terribly sad expression in the eyes of my regular.

  “I’ll be right back,” I said with a smile, knowing that I was leaving them desperate for more. “Just one minute.”

  “You just got out here,” one of them said, but I ignored his words and walked over to my coworkers.

  Pushing through the doors, I shot Greg an annoyed look and asked, “What do you want? I’m kind of in the middle of something here.”

  Greg rolled his eyes and asked, “How many times has that guy been here this week?”

  “Who?” I asked, looking back at the bar to see who he was referencing.

  “The guy who just had your dick in his mouth,” John said, interrupting Greg.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, unsure of why they were asking me this question. “What difference does it make?”

  “Well,” Greg replied, speaking up again, “you can’t let people get too close here. I know you’re still new, but let me give you a piece of advice: always keep an eye out for the ones who come here too often.”

  “He’s a regular,” I said, “and he’s a great tipper. I just made a hundred bucks from him in less than five minutes.”

  “Still,” Greg said, shaking his head. “You never know. In our line of work, you have to keep your eyes open and be safe.”

  “Nonsense,” I said, turning to look back towards the men who were eagerly waiting for me. “Besides, that’s why we have security; if any of the guys give us problems, we’ll be fine.”

  “Okay,” Greg said. “Don’t mind me, I’m just offering my professional advice.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh at his comment as I replied, “I don’t think I’d call our line of work professional.”

  My comment elicited a laugh from both Greg and John, plus a couple of the other guys who were waiting in the back for their turn to dance. We all knew that what we did wasn’t professional work, but my guess was that none of us would change it for anything.

  “You going to let him suck you off?” Greg asked, looking down at my cock which was still completely rock hard. “Or are you going to let someone else do it?”

  “Depends,” I answered in a coy tone of voice.

  “Depends on what?” Greg asked, rolling his eyes.

  “On how bad he wants it,” I answered, turning to walk back toward the bar.

  Greg reached out and grabbed my arm, yanking it so that I would turn and look back at him as he said, “Don’t forget what I told you.”

  “I won’t.”

  “And don’t forget we’re all having drinks after work tonight, mandatory.”

  “Greg, you know I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “Can you stop it, please?” he asked, mocking my decision to not partake of any alcohol. “You work at a bar, it’s only natural that you would have a drink sometimes. Besides, it’s good to have some male bonding. We all work together, you know, it’d be nice to hang out sometime.”

  I thought about it for a moment, and realized that it probably didn’t look great that I never spent any time with them. I knew they were all supportive of me, but I didn’t want to seem like I was uninterested. There was no animosity between any of us, and I wanted to keep it that way.

  “Okay,” I said, “I guess I could have a few drinks. What time are you thinking?”

  “As soon as the customers leave,” he replied. “Or is that too late for you? I know you like to get up early.”

  I thought about it for another moment, and realized that I didn’t have a workout planned for the next day. My personal trainer had recently moved out of New York, so I was working out alone until I found a replacement. I nodded my head, furrowing my brow as if I was thinking it over.

  Greg rolled his eyes again and asked, “Do you seriously need to think about it? It’ll be fun; what’s your deal man?”

  I laughed and replied, “I’m just teasing you. Yes, I’ll stick around and have a drink.”

  “Or several drinks,” he said with a smile. “And speaking of teasing, it looks like you’d better get back out there.”

  I turned and looked at the line of men waiting for me to return and said, “Yeah, I better.”

  2

  None of my coworkers had an official name for the dimly lit room we occasionally took our customers into for some alone time. I preferred to call it the Dark Room, but Greg had sometimes referred to it as the champagne room, which I took as an attempt to poke fun at the room where female strippers would take their clients for lap dances.

  Most of us, however, weren’t taking our customers into the Dark Room for lap dances. We were men, just as our customers were, and we knew what we wanted. Some of the dancers preferred to stay away from the Dark Room, and only allowed our patrons to touch them where they could all be seen. Occasionally, I’d hear some of the other dancers joking about how they didn’t want to escort for their money, but when I took a customer into the Dark Room, it was for my own enjoyment.

  The dancing on the bar – sure, that was for money, but I couldn’t discount my own feelings about the pleasure I derived from that as well. Having just turned twenty-five, I was young and appreciative of my body. I wanted to explore it and share it with others, and I had no qualms about that. If I could make a little extra cash along the way, I certainly wasn’t going to argue with that.

  Of course, word got around fast, even in a city as large as New York. Those of us who chose to enjoy the pleasure of our customer’s company in the Dark Room became known for this, and people would regularly show up at the bar expecting time alone with us. I couldn’t speak for any of the other dancers, but I was selective about who I spent time with.

  Dancing on the bar was one thing; putting on a show for everyone to watch, and seeing the gleam of hope in their eyes that they might be next on your list of potential cock suckers. Spending time alone with someone in the Dark Room was completely different; it was real, raw, and generally filled with aggressive behavior.

  Walking back toward the Dark Room with my customer from the bar, I had finally learned his name: Noah. Noah was obviously not the type to divulge many details about his personal life, but I preferred it that way. I didn’t need to learn about the boring details of his day to day existence, and he didn’t need to know mine. We both knew what we wanted from this exchange, and the terms were clear from the start.

  Slipping into the Dark Room, I close the door behind us, locking it with the chain which only allowed it to be locked from the inside. There was also a small sign outside the door which read OCCUPIED to warn off any other dancers who might not realize that we were busy in there.

  I was happy to see that the room was even available, but it was still early in the night, and I knew that the real action wouldn’t start until later. My heart skipped a beat as I thought of the types of things we’d be up to later in the evening, and I realized – as if I didn’t already know – that I was growing accustomed to our nightly rituals of alcohol-fueled sex and, occasionally, groups of naked men with their bodies entwined.

  The Warehouse had gained the reputation over time as the place to go if you wanted to watch hot guys dance. Earlier in the evening, we would have customers come in, have a few drinks, watch us dance, and sometimes give us a blowjob while we leaned down over the bar.

  Later in the evenings, however, were when things really got out of control. Dancers from nearby clubs and bars would come over to our place after the bar officially closed at four A.M. Since it would still be nighttime, we would use the cloak of darkness to cover the sinfully delicious things we’d do together.

  Over the course of working there for a brief period of time, I had grown accustomed to squeezing in as many orgasms as possible throughout the night. I was usually capable of at least five, but sometimes more than that. The first one or two loads woul
d go to a customer, but I’d save the rest of them for whenever the other bartenders and dancers stopped by after-hours.

  “Is it safe in here?” Noah asked, peering at me through his glasses as I slid the chain into position after closing the door.

  “I’m not sure what you mean by safe,” I said with a cheeky grin.

  “I mean,” he replied, trying to prevent himself from smiling, but failing, “will anyone walk in on us?”

  “Not at all,” I replied, nodding my head at the chain.

  “I just need to be discreet,” he said, as if he hadn’t just given me a partial blowjob on the bar a few minutes before.

  I wasn’t sure what was discreet about that, but I supposed if it made him feel better to know that no one would walk in on us, I wasn’t going to take that away from him. Besides, maybe he had someone in his life that he didn’t want to know about his sexual preferences. We always had those types come into the bar, and I didn’t view them any differently than I did a man who was proudly and openly gay.

  “No one will know,” I said, pushing him backward so that he fell onto the large, comfortable couch my coworkers and I had positioned perfectly in the middle of the small room.

  I had originally had the brilliant idea to put a bed in the room as well, but the other dancers felt that it would appear too traditional. That was pretty rich coming from those guys, but I couldn’t argue with them, as the couch was definitely more interesting.

  I noticed that Noah was reaching for his wallet, and I placed my hand on his to stop him. I didn’t want more of his money as, over the past few nights, he had practically tipped me enough to pay my rent.

  “I’m doing this because I want to,” I said, encouraging him to remove his hand from his pocket.

  “What are you going to do?” he asked breathlessly.

  “It’s not what I’m going to do,” I replied. “It’s what you’re going to do for me.”

  “What…” he began, but his voice faded and I could tell that he wanted to be surprised.

  I could also tell that he was extremely nervous, and I wondered how sexually active he had been before meeting me. I couldn’t help but wonder if I might have actually been the first guy he’s ever been with. If that was the case, I was happy to take it as a compliment.

  “You’re going to do for me,” I began, “what you started to do out there on the bar. You didn’t finish the job, and I think you deserve another shot.”

  “You want me to suck you?” he asked hopefully.

  I nodded my head as I replied, “I want you to want to suck me.”

  “I do,” he said, leaning back on the couch and gazing up at my body.

  The single light source was a dim lamp in the corner of the room, and I knew that it played perfectly off my body in the darkness of the room, highlighting and contouring every muscle. I spent most of my free time in the gym, and I wasn’t embarrassed about showing off the results.

  “How badly do you want it?” I asked, walking forward toward him and the couch.

  “You have no idea,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You’re the first guy I’ve ever…”

  Ah-ha! I thought. I was right, I am his first.

  “The first guy you’ve ever what?” I asked, teasing him as I reached lower and pushed the waistband of my underwear down.

  “That I…” he said, but he couldn’t focus on his words as his eyes were too busy eagerly devouring every inch of my body.

  I pushed my underwear lower, revealing just the top part of my dick. I had been hoping to keep it soft until I slid it in his mouth, as I loved the feeling of growing from soft to hard while a guy’s tongue rubs up against it, but I couldn’t keep it at bay as I had already grown fully erect. Noah leaned forward as his eyes tried to peer over the top of my underwear, down into the bulging package contained within.

  Even though he had just had it in his mouth a few minutes before, I could tell he was experiencing it as if it was his first time again. I wanted to tease and taunt him, to make him beg me for it. I never considered myself to be a cocky person, but the longer I danced at The Warehouse, the more I had to admit that my attitude had changed. I got off on making a guy want me, and there was no going back.

  Selfishly, I released my grip on my underwear and it snapped back into place, preventing Noah from seeing what was beneath. He frowned and looked up at me with sad puppy dog eyes that expressed his disappointment in the disappearance of my perfect cock.

  “Please,” he said, practically drooling in anticipation. “Please…please let me have your cock.”

  “Say please one more time,” I commanded, walking slightly closer to him.

  “Please,” he said, just as I told him to.

  “Again.”

  “Please,” he repeated, leaning forward even further so that his face was just a few inches away from my dick.

  “Beg me for it,” I said, lowering my underwear again so he could see the base of my cock.

  “I’ll do anything,” he said.

  “Anything for what?”

  “Anything for you,” he replied, “anything for your gorgeous cock.”

  Finally, I was before him, and I could feel the heat of his breath on my skin. I reached out and grabbed the back of his head, bringing him forward and planting his lips at the base of my shaft, but not lowering my underwear low enough for him to see the full thing just yet.

  Instinctively, Noah’s tongue escaped his mouth and began to lick the base of my shaft. I couldn’t resist any longer, and I finally pulled my underwear all the way down, feeling my dick release and bounce up, popping Noah in the chin. He looked down at it, eagerly licking his lips before plunging the entire length of it into his mouth.

  I felt the tip of my cock hit the back of his throat, and I knew he wanted me more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He wanted to please me; he wanted to make me feel good. He was the type of man who extracted pleasure from doing things to satisfy another person; just my type of guy.

  “How’s that?” I asked, pulling my hips back before thrusting them forward again, my precum leaking copiously. “How does that taste?”

  Obviously, he couldn’t reply as he had his mouth stuffed full of my cock, but I heard him attempt to mumble something as he swallowed me down. As I slowly pulled my hips back and forth, I felt his hands reach behind me and caress my ass.

  A man who approaches this from all sides, I thought with a smile. This is going to be even better than I thought.

  Before we could take it any further, I heard a loud banging coming from the other side of the door. Letting out a loud sigh, I realized that one of the other dancers wanted to get into the Dark Room, but Noah and I weren’t finished yet.

  “Occupied!” I called out, my eyes shooting daggers at the door. “Can’t you read the sign?”

  “Hey!” called the voice from the other side of the door.

  I immediately knew it was Greg.

  “Don’t get an attitude with me,” he added, and even though I couldn’t see him, I knew he was grinning from ear to ear on the other side.

  “I need to get in there,” he said, banging loudly on the door again.

  I looked down to see that Noah was still sucking on my cock. Seeing as how he came across as a shy person, I would have expected him to pull back in alarm upon hearing the knocking on the door, but he was still going at it. I felt his soft tongue swirling over every inch of my cock, and I had no plans to stop the exquisite pleasure I was receiving.

  I need this release; I needed the feeling of shooting my load down a guy’s throat before I’d be able to finish dancing for the night. I needed the explosion of coming for the first time that day, and I knew Noah was the one to provide that for me.

  Greg banged on the door again and called out, “Do you hear me?”

  “We’re busy in here!” I shouted back, trying to raise my voice to a level where it might be heard over the thumping music coming from the main bar.

  “Open th
e door,” he said.

  I leaned back and – keeping the chain in position – opened the door slightly to peer through the crack. “What do you want?”

  “I need to get in there,” Greg said, looking through the crack at Noah still working on my cock.

  The chain was still in place over the door, so he couldn’t open it any further. I could see that there was a handsome older man standing just one or two feet behind him, and he immediately struck me as the wealthy type.

  Greg leaned forward and tried to hide his words from the man standing behind him. “I’ve got a paying customer here,” he said, trying to whisper over the loud music.

  Looking down at Noah worshipping my cock, I realized that I didn’t want him to stop, but I didn’t want Greg to miss out on making his entire rent in just a few minutes. He was the type who could take a guy into the Dark Room and walk back out of it with a few thousand dollars in his pocket. All he needed to do was point them in the direction of the ATM in the corner of the bar, or give them his online payment information, and he was all set for the night.

  “Are you giving another freebie?” he asked, looking down at Noah, obviously knowing what I was doing.

  “What’s it to you?” I asked with a cocky smile.

  “You’ve got to stop giving that thing away for free,” he said. “Besides, you don’t want to stop me from making money, do you?”

  “You have plenty of money already,” I joked, obviously teasing him.

  “Nicholas Cole!” he exclaimed, making sure to use my last name as he was growing tired of my jokes and wanted me to exit the room.

  “Fine,” I said with a sigh, still experiencing the slippery sensation of Noah’s tongue on my cock. “But you owe me.”

  “I’ll owe you big time,” he said with a grin.

  I knew he’d never deliver on his promise, but I also knew that we’d all have some fun later in the night, after-hours when all the customers had left. That always made up for everything, at least in my eyes.