Every Thursday night that March was underwear night at the DC Eagle. I was interested in seeing this but couldn’t find the time until the last week of the month. I called Mateo, who was always up for fun, and he jumped at the idea. He picked me up later that evening and off we went, intending to shed our jeans at the Eagle and stash them in a locker.
We got to the Eagle not particularly late, but for a weeknight, there was already a large crowd. Since all the lockers were full, we just left our jeans in the coat check room. I tucked some beer money in the waist band of my shorts, and we went up to the second floor to see what was going on. I was in a dark sweatshirt, work boots and nothing but flannel boxers between my cock and a crowd of I hoped grabby men.
There were many more guys in the upstairs bar already, also in various stages of undress, but I didn’t see anyone I knew. Mateo wandered off in search of his own fun, so I sipped my beer and leaned against the wall to watch the crowd. As usual, there were guys who looked really hot, guys who looked like whatever, and guys who—not to judge—should have known better than to be out in public in only their underwear.
After a while of leaning against the bar or sauntering around in my shorts, I ran into Evan, the particularly handsome bear I’d met a couple of times before, most memorably at the Bear Hugz party in Baltimore the previous year.
I instantly perked up, as I still had the hots for Evan, with his unaffected demeanor and make-you-cum baritone. He gave me a big smile and I gave him a hello kiss and inquired politely after his lover-partner-person, who was apparently both very well and out of town.
Oh.
We continued to talk, and I began to wonder how much of a playful mood Evan might be in. Forging ahead as appropriate, I unbuttoned his shirt enough to gently rub my knuckles across his hairy chest, leaning in for a better kiss. To my great delight, he responded by slipping one hand around my back (Oh my god, what a wonderful feeling!) and his other hand in through the fly of my boxers, gently tracing his fingers along the shaft of my dick and pretty soon getting me hard (also a wonderful feeling).
I countered by unbuckling his not-doing-the-underwear-night-thing pants and slipping my hand down his shorts, rubbing past his own deliciously half-hard dick and grasping him by the balls. Literally holding a man by his balls is an intoxicating mix of power and compassion. Although we were leaning against the wall right near the bar, the room was crowded and dark, and the spectacle we were making wasn’t all that distinct from the other spectacles being made all around us.
After a little while of kissing and ball holding, I decided to try for something more than power and compassion, but in a better location. I suggested we go over to a corner in the room where it was even darker. I was sure he knew what I wanted but I wasn’t sure he wanted to play, with me, in a bar, possibly seen by friends who also knew his lover-partner-person.
But he seemed good with it, for he buckled his pants and followed me as I squeezed through the throng into the darkest corner I could find. The corner was already crowded but I was so heated up by the thought of jerking off with Evan I hardly noticed anyone else. I positioned him against the wall, my back to the room, and he pulled my cock out of my shorts. As he began to lightly stroke me, I unbuckled his pants again and pulled his cock out, stroking him to hardness.
I was only vaguely aware of the crowd of men we were buried in. There was only Evan’s mouth and beard against mine, his hairy chest under my fingers, and his hand working my cock. I couldn’t tell how close he was getting to cumming, but pretty soon I began to feel the familiar pressure between my legs build, and build, and build, all the stronger due to the delirious feeling of my cock in a public place and Evan’s handsome, bearded face brushing mine.
He must have heard me gasp and felt my body stiffen because he moved his leg aside just as I leaned against him, spilling my orchid seeds on the floor. He continued to stroke my cock as I emptied out, and then with a grin, scrubbed his fingers cruelly over my now-hypersensitive dick, making me twitch and gasp out loud. I continued to jerk him but he stopped me before he got any closer and zipped up.
After a few more moments of leaning against Evan’s chest to catch my breath, I tucked my spent, deflating dick back into my shorts. I gave Evan a thank-you-that-was-fun hug and kiss, then slowly turned away from the dark corner. It wasn’t quite as abrupt as that sounds (use someone for sex, moi?), as I fully expected Evan also would walk off in a different direction now that we (me, anyway) were done. I was surprised when he grasped my hand and followed me and kept me company―and pleased, as I thought it was actually quite nice of him to want to linger with me.
I don’t recall much else except that I suddenly really liked Evan a lot and wanted nothing more than to spend the night sleeping next to him. But after enquiring delicately, it didn’t seem like that was going to happen. (I hoped Evan’s partner knew just how lucky he was.) And anyway, I found Mateo also ready to leave, so we said good night and took off.
For months afterward, whenever I walked past that corner on the second floor of the DC Eagle, I thought happily of my Evan cum puddle.