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Horseshoes and Hand Grenades

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Hey y’all! This story is particularly kinky and has dirty talk, pup references, and other kinky things that you may not like! It is based on a bar in Saint Louis called JJ’s but with quite a bit more kink and sex. Please enjoy!

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“Dude, I don’t know about this…”

“Relax, bro. You were the one who wanted to do this. We are almost to the bouncer! If you are going to chicken out…”

“I mean…no, but…”

“Then suck in your gut, Q, feel what hangs between your legs for confidence if you need to, and walk forward.”

Q gave a nervous knicker, his eyes flicking back and forth and his hand against the thigh area of his board shorts as his eyes scanned where they were. He was surrounded by sweaty guys, some older and some younger bathed in bright neon of the city’s gay friendly clubs, bars, and restaurants. The pride weekend nightlife was in full swing with males of every shape, size, and species strutting through as if they owned the streets.

The moonlight was barely noticeable through the clouds and tall apartment buildings that surrounded the block which gave an almost ominous feeling to the atmosphere. All around, shadows danced along the concrete of the sidewalk.

Jumping when he felt a hand on his shoulder, Q turned to follow the arm of who it belonged to. A man dwarfing him in size and stature loomed over him, his deep black hair on his face and peeking out of the neck part of his shirt shining a part pink due to the cocktail bar’s neon they were being bathed in. His deep blue eyes glittered with mischief, and he gave a grin that was infectious. Q found himself smiling even though he was in a somewhat unfamiliar and uncomfortable situation.

“Did what I told you yet, or do I have to demonstrate?” the friend said with a smile that made his teeth shimmer. The backwards red ball cap that he wore giving him a fraternity look.

“W-wha-“

The hesitation allowed for the perfect moment and he slapped Q’s abs to make him suck in his chest with a surprised gasp, slapped his ass with a thick smack to make him stand up straight which was followed by a small grunt, and then grabbed his crotch which were housed in a tight pair of jeans that highlighted Q’s thick thighs and legs. The third gesture rendered him silent with a deep, red blush that crossed over his cheeks.

With that same mischievous grin, he said in a deep, low voice, “You feel better?” There were several cat calls and whistles nearby and he just ignored them, focusing on how Q was doing. He could see Q’s chest rise and fall through his light aqua muscle shirt and his biceps go from flexing to relax. The light blond hair that trailed up his arms and legs highlighted each curve in his physique.

“As if I was feeling bad in the first place,” Q huffed as he looked around the line to see there were eyes looking at him hungrily.

“Good, because that is everything you may feel out on the dance floor…well, minus the whole slapping of your chest part, but the balls and ass are fair game,” his touchy friend said in a matter-of-fact tone, and let Q’s crotch go. “Hitting your chest was just so you stand up straight.”

“Well, thanks I guess.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two guys walked forward, and were only two more people away from the bouncer. Q shook his head when he noticed the species. It was a tall, intimidating bull of a man which further cemented the stereotype in his mind as the bull body type being only involved professions that involved kicking people out of places and even more interesting was the fake horns he wore on top of his head made of some sort of hard plastic. What was even more interesting than the fact that he was dressed in a tight, white jockstrap that were as white as snow fall, but the massive bouncer’s upper body.

The bouncer was dressed in an interesting choice of clothing; black leather straps crossed underneath his pits and hooked on his shoulders before connected in the back in an almost “U” shaped harness which highlighted his built pectorals and bulging backside muscles. It was a classic bulldog harness. The bouncer’s fake horns glistened due to some sort of polish he must have applied earlier, and seemed to reflect in the artificial light of the neon.

“Wow,” Q said simply, his eyes as wide as dinner plates as he tried to peek over the patron in front of him; another one wanting to get into the club with just broad enough shoulders to block his view. Although he couldn’t quite see over the male in front of him, he did see the red glint of a red ball gag that was worn like a necklace around the bouncer’s neck. One of the patrons who the bouncer let in gave it a teasing tug downward to make his neck dip slightly. The bouncer merely grinned and gave the person who tugged on it a rough slap on the ass. There was plenty more whooping and hollering before the drowned them all out with a thundering laugh, his grey beard hair showing a bit canlı bahis of age. Meanwhile, Q watched the show with ever growing interest, and wondering how he even ended up in the gayest part of the town in the first place.

“You must be new to leather night here,” a deep voice said from behind. “I can smell your fear…and arousal.”

Both men turned around to face the person who spoke, and Q craned his neck upward to look up at the tall figure. The person who stood before them was a large bearish figure, his stature wide and intimidating and his smirk even more so. What made him even more intimidating wasn’t the fact that his biceps looked like small mountains, but the fact that he wore a collar that had the word “Daddy bear” etched across the metal medallion which hung lose from the black leather. Q looked as if he was about to be judged by some perverted, leather god while his friend’s grin widened to new heights. His antlers were the tallest part of his body, the large, external bones jutting outwards. He wore what appeared to be a fetishized wrestling singlet with the front open which showed off his powerful chest, and large, round nipples. He did not seem to mind the attention it brought and the yellow and black colors highlighted everything and left nothing to the imagination. The brown hair trail that led to his crotch ballooned out to show he was a hairy bear but it appeared trimmed and maintained.

Even though the deep voice rumbled Q’s form, it had a nice, smooth tone to it that was like a river of honey as it trickled through his ears and down his spine. If he wasn’t so damn scared, he would have focused more on the way it almost had a commanding growl behind it.

“Bruce! God, you almost made Q piss himself,” the friend said while holding the part of his t-shirt where his heart would be.

Bruce gave a chuckle, and replied, “Should have seen your face because I think you were the one closest to wetting their pants! Knew it was your hairy ass when I first saw ya. Could recognize that battered cap from miles away, Keith.”

Keith chuckled and walked forward before wrapping his arms affectionately around the big bear. Bruce did not seem to mind the gesture and gave an approving rumble before wrapping his massive arms around Keith almost possessively and held him close.

“Oooo Bruce, you have been bulking out, haven’t you?” Keith said with a grin as he looked up at the leather daddy’s twinkling eyes. Bruce nodded and said, “Yeah. Those protein mixes you suggested work wonders. My boyfriend loves it.”

“I really do,” a small, meek voice commented from somewhere down to Bruce’s right side. The group collectively looked down in the direction of the voice, and Bruce chuckled, lifting his right arm and putting it around a twunk looking character who’d seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Or had he been there the whole time? He was blushing, though it wasn’t the most apparent from the pink neon lighting the area, but his bright pink leather harness and matching leather shorts were all too apparent, even in the light, and they showed off his toned, albeit short, athletic frame that was thin yet had obvious muscle definition, his chest and abs on display for anyone to see. Around his neck was a collar that matched Bruce’s own, though also in pink, and the glittering silver tag on the collar read “Daddy’s Boy”. He held his right arm with his left, looking extremely shy due to having everyone looking at him.

‘Oh, hey there, little bro!” Keith said with a smirk. “Got a nice view from down there.” Nodding shyly, he agreed with Keith’s statement as he wrapped his arms around Bruce’s right arm, holding it gently with his body as he looked up at Bruce who stood at least a foot taller than him. Q, meanwhile, felt like he wanted to gag at the fact Keith always used the term “bro”. Keith was always a frat guy, but ever since he started to hang out with the rest of his fraternity, he had always been saying that word.

“Oh, and this is new…”

Reaching forward, Keith grabbed one of the two straps of Bruce’s tight fitting singlet and pulled it back. The spandex stretched appropriately, and he let it go to have a loud slap ring out around the environment.

“This just screams you, bro,” Keith said with a grin as he reached forward and groped Bruce’s left bicep openly. Giving a low, deep chuckle, Bruce merely flexed his arm and nearly pulled Keith up off the ground, since he was much taller than the ram.

“Connor picked it out for me. Got a great sense of taste,” Bruce said with a chuckle and wiggled his arm to make Connor shake a bit. “Also picked out the cologne.”

Q took a sniff and recoiled for a moment at the assault of manly musk that hit his nose all at once. Beneath that thick layer was the non-abrasive scent that smelled clean and modern. It reminded Q of a city late at night, even though it smelled nothing like what they were surrounded by.

“Who’s your friend who I almost made piss himself, by the way?” bahis siteleri Bruce asked with a grin. “Seems like he is taking an eyeful and has been rendered silent.” Bruce gave a joking wink over in Q’s direction, a grin forming across his features.

Keith gave a chuckle and walked away from Bruce to wrap an arm around Q, their two beefy shoulders rubbing against one another before he said, “This is Quentin. We usually just call him Q, for short.”

“Well, pleasure to meet you, Q,” Bruce said with a warm smile, melting Quentin’s hesitation further. For some reason, Bruce was starting to grow on him, and the twunk that was around his arm looked too adorable, that he would have probably ran away if the big daddy bear was any real threat.

“Yeah, good to meet you too,” Quentin responded with a genuine but nervous smile. He was starting to think that maybe his first experience at a gay club should not have been done during leather night; all of this was so overwhelming. At the same time, however, there was something exhilarating about meeting all sorts of different folks.

“Alright, enough flirting, you two!” Keith teased, shaking Quentin before releasing Q from his grip and slapping his ass playfully. “Leather night’s inside, not out here, bro!” he smirked, pushing Keith in the direction of the huge bull at the door who was absentmindedly adjusting the ball gag around his neck as his eyes followed a particularly large moth that fluttered past his face. Hearing shoes walking up to him, his gaze averted back to his job.

“I.D.s, guys,” the buff bouncer rumbled before his eyes made contact with Bruce’s own. “Oh, hey, Bruce! Runnin’ a little late tonight? Almost thought you were going to miss leather night!” the bouncer smiled.

“Vincent! Didn’t recognize your ass from all the way in the back! Especially since it wasn’t facing me,” Bruce said with a wink before laughing loudly. “Is that a new jock? Looks great on ya!” Connor had already fished out his and Bruce’s wallet and pulled out his I.D, and Vincent glanced at the date to see the canine was only a few months over twenty-one. He gave a simple nod and went back to looking over to Bruce. He did not even bother asking the moose for his I.D; he knew he was a regular.

Quentin was busy rustling through his own pockets for his wallet and was relieved when his hand brushed against the cool brown leather. He brought it out of his pocket and held it out in front of him for Vincent to look at. The bull looked over Quetin’s I.D and noticed he was also only a few months older than twenty one.

Vincent snorted with laughter, the glittering golden septum piercing he had fluttering from the expulsion of air from his nose. “Damn, Bruce! Starting quite the harem of hot young guys, aren’t ya? Let me guess, you’re barely twenty-one too, right?” Vincent asked, holding out his hand and taking Keith’s driver’s license from him and rolling his eyes slightly while laughing a second time. “How did I know! What, you go raid the nearest frat house and ask who wanted to go clubbing?” he grinned, handing the license back to Keith.

“You know me, Vincent; I only take the good studs,” Bruce said with a chuckle as he wiggled his arm once again to make Connor vibrate a bit. “And the best boys. They’re the most fun to break the beds with.” Bruce gave a devious grin before he looked over at Quentin and gave him a wink. “And I didn’t ask if just anyone wanted to go clubbing, ONLY the gay ones this time! My straight-chaser days are over.” Quetin gave a blush at the wink, and his feet shuffled awkwardly at the comment. Even for such a big guy, he still found himself growing embarrassed when it came to such playful gestures. His ears moved upward as the bass of the club reached his ears, and his curiosity got the best of him as he started to almost hypnotically make his way towards the front door. The leather-bound studs that walked through the purple haze of lights and fog that filtered out through the door looked almost entrancing in the pink neon.

“Uh huh, why do I not believe that?” Vincent smirked. “Anyway, you boys have a nice night,” he smiled, holding the door open for them. “And you keep that cute little pup safe, you hear? It would be a shame if you lost someone as cute as him to any of the other big daddies like you,” the bull winked.

“I’ll keep him safe and collared, so he doesn’t run off with another,” Bruce said with a chuckle before looking down at Connor to see him have a content smile across his face. Bruce walked through with Connor on his arm, his large frame having to duck in order to prevent chipping his antlers on the top of the doorway. Before he made it through though, he stopped momentarily and turned around to Vincent to say, “Oh, and pup and I will be here after hours, if you want to stop by for some catching up…” Bruce grabbed the bouncer’s ball gag that was around his neck and lifted it up to his mouth before pushing it into his mouth with his thumb, and he held that seductive bahis şirketleri grin the whole time. “Just for your information.” Bruce walked away with a swagger in his step, his stature even straighter and more confident.

Quentin followed close behind, his mind taking all the stimuli in and trying to keep up, and merely gave an awkward blush when he noticed Vincent looking back at him with the ball gag in his mouth and a small blush on his face.

Keith grabbed Quentin by the shoulder and started guiding him through the doors before turning back towards the bouncer as well. “Oh, and I’ve totally been coming here every so often for three years or so now. Some of your bouncer buddies suck at figuring out ages from licenses,” he grinned. “But lucky you, you got to see me when it was actually legit.” Without another word, he turned around and dragged Q inside, leaving Vincent to look even more dumbstruck than he had already been.

Laughing as he led Quentin down the hallway into the club, Keith looked over at Quentin, still grinning. “Ready to see gay culture at its finest, bro?” he asked with a devious look in his eyes.

“Define ‘ready’,” Quentin said with a nervous chuckle as they made their way down the narrow hallway. Quentin found himself nearly pushed up against Bruce, their bodies almost squeezed together as a couple followed in close behind them, and Bruce had to stop momentarily. Quentin found himself nearly crashing into Bruce’s large rump and had to stop himself as his face nearly brushed against the tight lycra which left nothing to the imagination. The pink hue of the neon added an interesting mix of color to the moose’s rump and Quentin found himself focusing on the two mounds of muscle.

The line that was formed was starting to move up ever so slowly, and Quentin’s heart thumped as they made their way to what could only be assumed was the heart of the club. He could hear the bass and the driving beat of the music through the brick walls of the club. He could also hear the couple behind him chuckling and laughing, and Q could smell the sweat coming off of the two behind him. He was a bit afraid to turn around and see what they were wearing, or what they were up to, though he was fairly sure one of them ‘accidentally’ brushed their hand against his ass.

“You’ll do fine, bro!” Keith chuckled as the line moved forward, people emptying out into the heart of the club, finally giving the two friends a good view of the club as they too entered the main area.

The area was a sprawling mass of leather and bodies. There were a few females that were scattered amongst the crowd, but the area was dominated mostly by males, each one looking skimpier than the next. The lights provided from the dance floor gave a mix of purple, pink, and green colors that projected over the walls and along the floor. Glasses clanked together at the bar area while people chatted casually, and others danced away on the floor. The DJ for the night was behind a large booth, mixing tracks for the night and keeping the dance floor packed with remixes of fairly well known pop songs. The dance floor was a packed with leather-bound patrons, their bodies grinding and moving as they enjoyed themselves. Above the dance floor, a neon sign read, “Horseshoes and Hand Grenades.”

The bar itself looked well-crafted and maintained; the beautiful brown wood reflecting back the colors of the lights and the glasses in a kaleidoscope of colors. There were wine glasses that hung from the ceiling, and the back of the bar was lined with assorted bottles of alcohol. From the college binge worthy up to exotic, the bar was lined with every kind of tap that could be imagined up in a frat bro’s wet dream. A hunk of a man stood polishing glasses, his upper body in a leather harness that dipped underneath his pits and connected on the back as well as across his chest via a leather bridge. His brown hair on his face, chest, and belly shimmered in the light, and he was busy serving patrons with a handsome smile across his face. His hair was up in a fauxhawk that gave him a modern, sleek look. His body looked as if it was barely contained by the leather harness, and the bicep straps that looped around his arms bulged menacingly, as if they were about to snap at any second whenever he flexed.

All of a sudden, couple from behind moved past Q and gave him a wink, their bodies clothed, to Quentin’s surprise, as they made their way towards the dance floor. When they made it to the dance area, however, shirts started to get taken off in earnest and stuffed in pants, and even the couple were adorned in their own leather gear. Quentin was starting to feel like he was the odd one out.

“Well, since everyone else is doing it…” Keith smirked, nudging Quentin in the ribs with his elbow as he stepped off to the side so as to not block the doorway into the club. He gripped sleeve of his flannel overshirt that was unbuttoned and slowly slid it off of his shoulders before tossing it to the floor, leaving him in just a white t-shirt. Giving Quentin a cocky wink, he gripped the bottom hem of his t-shirt and teasingly slowly pulled it upwards, revealing his abs, two by two, his toned stomach flexing with each breath.

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