Oh Bambi (MxM)

Mac isn’t exactly new to this scene; he’s been to a few strip joints in his short life, always flashing a perfectly valid ID and strutting in to sit before the stage filled with gorgeous women in varying stages of undressed.

But this? This is absolutely foreign territory to him.

Just a few days ago he had turned 21, threw a huge bash with his friends from college and spent the day after sick to death in a thrashed apartment.

Yet all that was worth it, because it means that now the ID he shows to the bouncer in this shady back-alley is actually legit. Although the bouncer raises a brow at it, eyes shifting between the photo and the real deal standing before him – Mac quickly worried that for the first time in his life, he might get a no.

The bouncer then huffs a laugh. “Have fun, kid.” And hands Mac his ID again.

Music blares out as soon as the door opens; revealing a tight staircase where just one person can fit, the narrow pathway up bathed in red neon.

Mac’s heart is racing, beating in his ear to a point where he can’t tell if it’s the booming bass of the upstairs or his pulse in his chest.

Feels kinda ridiculous to be this nervous about going through this opening; no one will shame him for being here, and if he meets someone he knows, well, they’re both in the same boat then. They won’t be able to say “Hey I saw Mac in this gay strip club!” without revealing that they were there too. Mutually assured destruction, and all that.

I’m not a fucking pussy, he grumbles internally and finally crosses the threshold.

The beat vibrates through his bones as he reaches the top and turns left to catch the view of a very enthusiastic crowd. There are... a lot of men, like way more than he actually anticipated for there to be, but it actually kinda soothes his nerves in a way? He’ll be able to just blend right in here – another face in the limited dating pool of gay men in Indianapolis.

It looks like any other club he’s been to, the same way most fastfood restaurants have a specific layout to adhere to. In one end of the joint there’s a bar with two barely dressed beefcakes slinging drinks and throwing bottles and glasses around like they were born to do so, along the far off wall is a row of curtains that gives the illusion of privacy for, well, a private dance.

All of it bathed in reddish hues and hushed lighting, to give the patrons here some semblance of anonymity, the quick synth blasting here almost enough to drown out their inebriated cheers.

For at the other end of this place is the stage; a bright and shining beacon in the dark, the backdrop of it a billion little light bulbs in the expected rainbow colors, the stage edged with gentle, pale lights, and one spotlight pointing to where the runway ends in a circle around the pole.

Where a soft guy with freckles everywhere dances with a feather boa and dressed in green, lacy panties, stockings tight around his thighs to where the flesh there runs over, and a bra in the same fashion, pushing up what little he has to offer.

Mac takes a few hesitant steps further into the place, but absolutely no one pays him any attention, which is weird, because he’s used to turning heads basically everywhere he goes, but tries to not be offended by the lack of eyes drilling through him.

As the end of the song comes along, bills fly through the air and onto the stage, and the guy there bends at the hips to pick them up, legs straight with his ass in the air for a perfect view, which just elicits more and more from his adoring fans.

But eventually he walks down the runway, as an announcer declares-

“Gentlemen, clear the ice foooooooooor Bambi!”

And if Mac thought people were hollering before, he wouldn’t have expected the near stadium cheering, as if the Yankees just hit a home-run, as a new song flows through numerous speakers, and a brunette wearing a long, black, silk robe steps out in front of the flashing rainbow.

He stands with his back turned, moving his shoulders lightly in tact with the music, more synth that Mac wouldn’t know the name of- they all sound the same to him.

Bambi moves his hand up to carefully expose a shoulder, and turns his head to the side as someone shouts “Yeah baby!” from the front of the stage. Turns away again and loses the other shoulder too, so that the silk slowly falls down in a controlled motion, exposing more and more of his pale back; beauty marks and moles scattered across perfect skin.

And it draws Mac nearer, feet bringing him across the polished floor without him even realizing it.

His jaw drops along with the silk, that pools softly around naked feet up on the stage, as Bambi reveals it all.

Posing with his back arched and ass so perfect and round, pushed out to really show off the curve of his lower back. A black, lacy garter belt sits around his waist, clasped on to straps around his taut thighs of same fashion, and in step with the music, he spins around to show off the tiniest fucking thong that just barely covers the front of him, matching the rest of his very limited getup.

He’s not as muscular as Mac, which he loves, but there’s still some definition there, long and strong legs that goes on for forever, hands firmly planted on his hips, shaved chest glistening with sweat from the summer heat. Moles everywhere, scattered across supple flesh, and it is especially hard not to gaze at the ones high up on his thighs,

But his face is what truly deserves attention. Hair up in a tall pomp, exposing perfect brows, smokey eye-shadow, luscious lashes, and lips so dominantly red, it’s the only thing Mac can really see, for it demands his attention there. And he smiles at him- well, at the crowd cheering and waving bills in the air before the show has even really started.

With hips that sway in exaggeration, Bambi starts down the runway with long strides, really using those gorgeous legs for all of their worth, and Mac doesn’t even realize he’s by the stage till honeyed eyes gaze upon him. And the performer stretches out his leg, lifts it up and swoops it right above Mac’s curls, as he spins around to grab at the pole there in the middle.

And Mac is fucking floored at that unnecessary flair and confidence, feels it all course through him, the way that Bambi grinds against the pole, mouth open in a bawdy little o, eyes pinned to his own. Closes a leg around the metal, spins in a light circle with his eyes jumping across each and every one of his several fans, then, with a firm hand on the pole, lifts up his other leg, thighs clamped around the metal, and he leans backwards, suspended in the air.

Spreads out his arms like an angel hanging upside down, really showing off that there’s nothing but those incredible legs holding him up. Spectators around the stage cheer and wave wads of cash around for Bambi’s attention, throwing single dollar bills at him and shouting out compliments.

But he keeps staring straight at Mac, who’s frozen in awe, only to be startled awake when the performer winks at him, then bends toward the pole again. Grabs on with both hands and unfurls his legs till feet touch the floor again. The song goes by in a flash of exposed skin, impossible poses, bright lights and deep, dark, lustful eyes. Both blue and brown alike.

Bambi up on the stage spends his time dancing, grinding, lifting himself up to show off his ridiculous dexterity, all the while paying most of his attention to Mac, who didn’t pay the other anything at all yet, money burning in his back pocket.

And as the stripper crawls around on all four, slowly gathering up his tips and accepting some with his vivid red lips, Mac can’t stop himself from asking,

“How much for a private dance?”

Bambi gives him a good once over, leaning over the edge of the stage to look him up and down, as if he hasn’t been doing that for the last five minutes or so. Bites at his lower lip with pearly white teeth, then smiles wide and with intent.

“For you, whatever you brought here tonight to spend.”

Mac nods. He walks along the stage, following Bambi’s direction as he moves to clear the runway for the next performer, whose introduction Mac doesn’t care to listen to at all, for he cannot retrieve his attention from the sweat that has gathered at the small of this one stripper’s back.

More by instinct than kindness he extends his hand out for Bambi to hold on to, as he goes down the completely harmless steps, but Mac finds himself craving to touch the other with such intensity he hasn’t felt in almost a year.

“What a gentleman,” Bambi coos in the most inviting way, and bats his eyes to emphasize those words, as if Mac hasn’t already been sold on the entire getup. “Follow me.”

Mac would be an all too willing victim, following right behind Bambi with no second guessing, mesmerized by the swaying of hips and exposed cheeks where black lace vanishes between flesh. He could be walking to his death now and wouldn’t even blink or look away from the backside that excites him all too easily.

They pass through a tacky curtain of thousands of beads which leads to a long hallway with 6 doors, all nondescript save for the numbering. Every joint has this exact hallway, just often in different colors, this one a particularly heavy red, to a point where no other hue exists in this stretch of bare walls. Mac’s seen a few, but never before has he been this enthusiastic to be in such a place.

1, 2, 3, 4 doors are closed, and Bambi stops in front of the fifth door, leans against the metal frame.

Mac doesn’t need to be told twice before he goes through, into the small room.

Red on red on red still. Upholstered walls, a sofa spanning the entirety of one wall in the same fabric, a small, shiny metal table with coasters on because people care about that, and a tray table with all sorts of fun toys, dildos, whips, cuffs and gag-balls, even vibrators.

And Mac worries for a short moment that maybe he’s in the wrong kind of club. Yet as he watches Bambi close the door and lock it, he forgets all the troubles of the world.

Bambi shoots out his hip to accentuate his shape, and places a well-manicured hand there. Puts one foot right in front of the other to give a show of a rather feminine walk, as he closes in on the space between the two of them.

Mac remains without action though, for even if he’s been in this kind of room before, this is the first time he’s ever intended to do something.

“You look nervous,” Bambi whispers and hooks one finger into Mac’s buttoned down shirt.

He hadn’t noticed how bad he’s sweating, how hard his heart beats, till it was mentioned that, yeah, he just might be nervous.

“First time?” The button pops open.

“Not in a place like this,” Mac manages to speak, eyes shooting between where buttons gets freed and the dark lashes surrounding honeyed eyes.

Bambi hums in appreciation of what is slowly being exposed. “With a guy?”

“No I’ve been with guys before.”

“In what way?” Their eyes meet as Bambi smiles suggestively, and Mac can’t fight the urge to bring up his hand and gently caress the other’s cheek. A gesture that seems to throw Bambi off.

“How do you think?” he asks and leans in till their noses touch, yet lips remain apart, waiting for consent.

Yet rather than saying a thing or letting their bodies connect like so, Bambi gives him a light shove and Mac lands in the middle of the sofa, where he barely finds time to get comfortable before his lap is occupied, straddled by hips that puts pressure in such a spot he can’t help but groan.

And Bambi licks his lips in delight of what hardness he already meets. “Glad to know you enjoyed the show,” his tone thick and low as he rolls onto Mac’s crotch.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” Mac moans out with some semblance of restraint. He grabs on to the back of the plush seating to keep himself from groping away at supple flesh.

“You can touch me if you want,” Bambi breathes out, quick to become affected himself by the motion.

It doesn’t take more than that before Mac brings his hands down on to the performer’s ass and squeezes, bringing out the most delicious little sound.

“Can I kiss you?” His eyes jump between those plump, red lips, and eyes fluttering closed.

When he’s met with almond brown and a sly little smirk. “And ruin my make-up?” Bambi chuckles.

But he won’t beg, no matter how bad he wants to taste the source of these lascivious moans all meant for him. At least in this moment.

“What about your name?”

“Bambi-”

“No, I mean, your real name.”

Bambi furrows his brow and stutters slightly in his movement, as if someone hasn’t asked such a pretty boy for his name before. “Why?”

“So I know who to praise,” Mac says with a voice so charming, you’d think he was the one putting on a show now.

And it seems to work wonders immediately, for Bambi grinds down more fervently once or twice. “A-ahh, Sean. My name’s Sean.”

“Mmm Sean,” Mac drawls out and guides the warm body on top with his strong hands. “I’m Mac.”

“Fuck, Mac,” Sean keens as their full erections slide together with ecstatic wonder. “I want you... inside of me, baby, oh-”

Hands crawl further back at those irresistible words, and Mac watches how anticipation builds in the ridges between Sean’s brows, as fingers travel down, down, down, to where he finds... hard, warm, smooth steel. And oh how Sean moans through perfect lips as Mac pushes against the obstruction.

“Are... are you...” He moves it in circles and feels how much Sean writhes and whimpers at it. “Are you wearing a buttplug?”

“Y-yeah, ah-mmh, fuck.” Sean brings a hand behind to place it on top of Mac’s, urging him on. “Gotta be prepared.”

“Smart,” Mac agrees with a grin.

Truth be told he had hoped to get to finger this slender brunette till he was inches away from cumming, but this just meant he was going to bury his fat cock in this sweet ass sooner.

Sean leans down to moan directly into Mac’s ear, as he whispers hotly, “Let me get it out, so that you can get it in.”

He moves Mac’s probing hands away to rest on creamy thighs, then grabs on to his chin with one hand to ensure that he watches how Sean falls apart, mouth a bawdy o as he lets slip an excessively erotic “fuck,” pulling out the shiny plug, and fuck indeed, because this might all just be part of the performance, but fuck if it doesn’t do it for Mac.

Like live porn.

Next Sean brings Mac’s hands up to hold him by the hips, so that he can bend backwards, almost bragging about how lithe he is - a show of flexibility that nearly makes Mac leak where his painfully swollen cock hurts in entrapment - then opens a small plastic box, and when he sits back up he’s holding a discreet bottle of lube and a condom wrapper.

Sean grabs Mac’s hand in his own, the bottle of lube in the other, smiling something so wide and lewd. “Wanna finger me, baby?”

Mac’s full dick gives an eager kick at the way those words drip out from red lips.

“You wanna feel how stretched out and needy I am for your big cock?”

And Mac can’t help but grin for a short second, because even though the things Sean’s saying right now is purely for his benefit as a patron, pretty boy here has no idea how true those words are.

“Yeah,” his response just so simple.

Sean flicks open the bottle with a practiced motion, and pours out just the perfect amount of lube onto Mac’s sturdy fingers, giving away just how often he’s had to do such a thing, but the way he’s smiling something of a mix of contentment and excited speaks to just how he enjoys it.

Or at least how much he enjoys Mac, as he tells himself.

He guides the hand behind himself, in between spread cheeks, past the sliver of fabric of the thong, and two fingers slip in with no trouble at all.

“Fuck,” Mac groans out as he goes knuckle deep in one smooth move, dragging out delightful moans from Sean, who’s quick to move towards the fingers.

Feels how muscles clench desperately around his digits buried deep, but he can tell that it’s not enough, that Sean is craving more the way his whimpers aren’t quite satisfied yet. When he adds a third finger Sean grabs on to his shoulders, body trembling.

“Ah, Mac,” he whines and squeezes.

“You’re so loose and warm, baby, so eager to swallow my fingers,” Mac’s voice dipped in lust as thick as honey, eyes caught on how Sean moans in complete arousal, lids closed and lower lip pulled between teeth as he continues to pump his fingers in and out.

“Yeah, a-ah-” Sean moves his hands up from Mac’s shoulders to cradle his face, and for a brief moment Mac leans in, hoping for a kiss, but Sean stops just short of it and keeps them separated. “Mmmh-ah, how do you want me? Anything, I’m yours, Mac.”

It’s been so long since Mac has last been with another guy, even longer still with someone as enrapturing as Sean, so fingering the stripper like this could be enough for him; feels like he’s about to burst with just the slight friction Sean offers as he grinds on top. Wonders if Sean could get off just on getting fingered right.

But no. Mac’s greedy. “I want you to ride me.” And he pulls back his fingers, causing a forlorn little whine to escape those rose red lips.

“Yeah?” Sean keeps that peevish tune to his voice, rolls his hips over the excessive bulge he finds beneath tight denim, coercing out a hiss from Mac. “Want me to ride your big, fat horse dick?”

“Harrh- shit-” Mac groans out, rough and guttural and his head falls back.

Hands travel down his chest, over the exposed flesh of his open shirt, across twitching muscles that stop just before the belt, which jingles as Sean works it open, unzips, and pulls down both the jeans and boxers, to where he’s met with-

“Oh,” he gasps softly and looks at how thick and veiny Mac’s cock is, burning hot where it rests on his lower abdomen.

Mac lifts his head to look down, catching how Sean is nearly drooling over his prideful erection. And he can’t help the grin that spreads at the sight.

The condom wrapper gets slapped against his bare chest, and Sean catches his eyes, dark and full of indecent intentions; a gaze that speaks louder than any words could.

And Sean leans away, moves further down Mac’s strong legs to give room for him to roll on the condom, all the while being gawked at by Sean as he runs his own hand over his prick still restrained inside his black thong.

Mac grabs the bottle of lube and slicks himself up, letting out heated sighs of relief as he strokes himself with impressive self-restraint; having seen enough tonight to last him a year of masturbation.

When Sean lifts up on his knees, Mac slides down the seat a bit to angle himself beneath, holding his aching cock upright and ready. Brings his other hand as far behind Sean as he can, to pull aside the thong again and keep it out of the way, as Sean grabs on to his shoulders for support.

Together they look down as Sean quickly lines up perfectly with the broad head of Mac’s dick, then slowly sinks down, stretches out so wide, taking his time as to properly appreciate every single inch of him, a prolonged moan escaping his sensual lips.

It takes all of Mac’s strength to not just thrust hard, and bites down on his lip as he watches how well his entire thick length fits inside, all the way down till Sean’s fully seated. He grabs on to those pale hips and pushes to try and force Sean further onto his cock, but there’s no more flesh to drive in, bodies flush. He drops his head onto the couch as he feels how Sean’s hole clenches around him, his throbbing cock twitching inside of the perfect, velvety heat.

“Ah Mac, you’re so fucking big,” Sean moans out and draws small circles with his hips, breath stuttering as the hard dick reaches wonderful spots.

“Yeah,” Mac agrees with clear arrogance to his tone at the well known fact that he’s hung as fuck.

Gasps wetly and licks his lips as Sean starts moving; lifting himself up at a pace all too slow, where Mac can just feel how each and every muscle clings to his girth, then lowers again to suck him in; needy and hungry for all that he is. His fingers press deeper into soft skin in his attempt to keep some semblance of self-control, no matter how bad he just wants to fucking pound into Sean’s sweet hole.

“God, you feel so good inside, Stevie,” he growls out with eyes pinched together; worried that the sight of the other might drive him insane.

Sean is loud and obscene to listen to; the squelching of his dripping wet, lubed up ass, the lewd “ah” and “oh”’s spilling out as he fucks himself faster onto Mac’s burning hot dick, skin slapping together.

And Mac opens his eyes as one hand leaves his shoulders, looks down between them to watch as Sean pulls his impressively long cock out from behind the thong; translucent beads rolling down from the wet head as Sean jerks himself off to the rhythm of his bouncing. A sight that courses through the entirety of Mac’s sensitive body, waves of euphoria crashing against the dam, goading him closer and closer to spill over.

“Fuck,” he groans and fights to keep his eyes open as they’re locked on that hand flying up and down with practiced speed. “Wrap your legs around me.”

“What?” Sean asks, voice dewy and hazy with lust from where he was gone to chase his own high.

Mac stills all movement and sits upright, to where Sean promptly closes his legs tightly around muscular hips, feet hitching together on his back, as Mac stands up, lifting Sean with ease.

“Oh,” Sean gasps with the same impressed tone as when he saw how Mac is wide everywhere, both hands up to hold on to shoulders, but he gets the feeling that that’s not necessary with how firm those hands are on his ass cheeks.

With confident footing, Mac turns them around and gently lowers Sean onto the sofa, putting him on his back from where he stares wide eyed in awe of just how strong Mac is. He gapes a bit, trying to say something, give out a compliment maybe, but all he can muster is a fresh moan as he becomes filled to the brim again.

“A-ah-” he cries out and puts a hand above his head to press it flat against the wall, a bit of leverage to ensure that he can push down against where Mac slaps into him, hips snapping hard and vigorously.

Mac lifts those long, pale, moled legs up against his chest, feet going past his shoulders as he pounds into Sean’s body that tenses up all kinds of delicious; the moans and crooning proof that he’s hitting at just the right angle.

“Mac, fuck- ah- right there! Shit-” Sean calls out and arches his back; a hand quick to grab on to his leaking erection to fist away with fervor.

And Mac keeps the rhythm, nearly loses his damn mind in the way those muscles retract and pull him to the edge like a siren song. He grabs on to fit thighs, pulling Sean down as he drives inside, plunging deep with every thrust, sweaty, burning desire colliding together between them.

“You’re so gorgeous, Bambi,” Mac drawls out and squeezes the flesh between his fingers. “Doing so good for me.”

“I’m close!” Sean pants with a voice thoroughly fucked out.

“Mmmh me too.” Blue eyes stuck like glue to how Sean squirm on the couch; body beautifully glistening like he’s covered in diamonds, brows raised in pure ecstasy, moaning as if this is the best he’s ever been fucked.

Which Mac of course tells himself is true.

A few more harsh thrusts and Sean finishes with an intense and drawn out noise; mouth wide, toes curling, body going rigid and dense as he milks his trembling cock for every last drop, heat splashing onto muscles that spasm with the waves of his orgasm, and it drowns Mac’s own self in a near blinding climax.

He grinds his hips against Sean’s ass with cruel force, shoving in so passionately they move a bit up on the couch, as he growls out his finale with widely exposed teeth, bending forward from where he’s kneeling, where he’s emptying out completely submerged in a hole that drinks it all up eagerly; small, deeply satisfied whimpers comes smoothly from red lips as Mac gently rocks with the last bit of effort he has.

And time stands still as Mac slowly falls down from that high; the grandest he’s had in a long time, and surely won’t be surpassed in just as long a time to come. He doesn’t open his eyes as Sean moves; legs slip down from where they had gone limp over his shoulders, to then land around his waist, going behind to lock Mac in place, even pulling him nearer if that’s possible at all.

Finally, when his breathing has steadied enough for oxygen to make him coherent again, he looks down at where Sean lies like an angel, dick flaccid but still excessively long, dipped in a pool of his own cum on his sweaty stomach. He’s gazing right back up, eyes exhausted and mouth ajar to breathe slowly.

Sean reaches up with a hand to caress Mac’s heated face, who leans into the gentle touch with a starved sigh.

“That was... amazing,” he mutters out and runs his calloused hands over delicate thighs that keeps him in place.

A huff escapes smiling lips as Sean responds with, “Yeah... it was.”

And when he squeezes around where Mac is now soft inside, Mac groans out a weak “fuck” and tries to instinctively pull away from where he’s overstimulated.

“Think you can go another round?” Sean smirks and runs a hand down those incredible abs.

“No,” Mac chuckles, “I’m gonna need a week to recover from this- maybe more.”

“Well...” Sean lifts himself up on his arms and goes as close as he dares, to breathe across Mac’s lips, “Come see me again when you’re ready.”