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Gaybdl: The Bouncer

Otto Van Raunchenhausen

Copyright 2016

All characters depicted in sexual situations in this publication are eighteen years of age or older.

These stories are about fictional consenting adults engaging in taboo and controversial sexual acts. Nobody involved in the creation of this ebook, including authors, editors and models, support immoral or illegal acts in real life. Cover models are not intended to illustrate specific people and the content does not refer to models' actual acts, identity, history, beliefs or behavior.

Nate always complained about his friends forcing him to go to the strip club. That's because Nate was gay, and his friends were straight, so they went to a titty bar. Nate had no interest in any of the girls there or any of their equipment.

But he actually enjoyed himself. Gay men at a straight strip club are treated like royalty by the strippers, and his friends always promised to buy him drinks to get him to come, so Nate always pretended to hate it. The real reason he enjoyed going was that a particular bouncer worked there nearly every night, and he was the hottest man Nate had ever seen.

His name -- which he brusquely grunted out one day only after repeated badgering from Nate -- was Barrel. He never clarified whether that was a nickname, first name or surname, though really any of those options seemed more or less equally likely to Nate. He was one of those uber-rednecks who also happened to be urban thugs, with gang tats and Confederate flags all over his body. He was six and a half feet tall and built like the proverbial prick shithouse, with a hulking body that he showed off in a tight wifebeater. He growled and threatened the swaggery straight patrons and on those few occasions when Nate had watched him kick someone out, Barrel's bravado and machismo made Nate's dick perk up in his pants despite the vaginas everywhere he looked.

In a place like Mobile, Alabama, men like Barrel were commonplace, but few of them had the swagger, the muscle and the grit to make Nate turn his head. That's because, despite his crush on Barrel, Nate was not an alpha chaser. His tastes were more of the diaper variety. Nate loved role-playing with his partners, usually wherein he was a little boy in a diaper being fucked by his daddy, who was invariably a small white twink like Nate himself. He enjoyed watching Barrel and would have gladly sucked his dick if he offered, but Nate simply wasn't the kind of gay man who sought out that kind of thing. So he just watched from a distance as Barrel's muscles bulged from his wifebeater.

Nate had been single for a long time. There simply weren't enough gay men in Mobile. He glumly drank and flirted with the girls, who cooed and rubbed his chin. Strippers always treated him like a cute puppy.

When he went to the bathroom, he hoped to "accidentally" bump into Barrel -- the bathroom was near the front door -- but he was surprised to see that the other bouncer had taken his place. He was kinda hot too, but he was no Barrel.

Barrel had definitely been at the door when we got here, Nate thought to himself. He and his straight buddies had been coming here off and on for two years, and Nate had never once seen the bouncers switch shifts in the middle of the night.

As he pissed, Nate wondered idly if something was wrong. Maybe Barrel had a family emergency. He made a mental note to ask next time he saw him, that would give him an excuse to hang around the door and maybe touch his thigh a little -- he would have tried to touch his bicep, which he thought Barrel would let him get away with, but Nate would have had to stand on his toes or maybe even jump to touch Barrel's bicep.

Once he walked out of the bathroom, Nate headed over to his friends, who were getting a lapdance from a big-bosomed black girl named Ginger. He was annoyed that he didn't get to "accidentally" bump into Barrel's chest and cop a feel.

But then he did accidentally walk into Barrel's chest, and it was genuinely an accident this time. Barrel walked backwards out of an employees-only door, and for one blissful moment, Nate's face was planted right in Barrel's pectoral muscles. He inhaled deeply of the cheap cologne and faint afterscent of musky sweat.

"You're a dick, Paul!" Barrel said, seemingly unaware that he had bumped into someone. "You know I told you about this, and it don't even matter, I got Walter in to take over-"

"You have to work your assigned shifts, Barrel. That's the point of assigning shifts. If you walk out, I'll have to tell Mr. Hartley that you failed to work a complete shift. That's a write-up-"

"Oh go fuck yourself, Paul," Barrel said. He sucked on his teeth, flipped his middle finger and turned around.

That placed him right in front of Nate, who blushed and bit his lip as his face again collided with Barrel's solid chest. He had always hated conflict, and this was an awkward situation.

Normally when Barrel saw Nate, he rolled his eyes and sighed. He seemed uncomfortable with homosexuality, though he was always professional. Today though, he sighed a little more enthusiastically, as though a part of him was glad to see Nate.

"Hey. Hi. Hello," Nate said. He stammered whenever he was nervous.

Barrel nodded his hello back. After a pause, he said, "You, uh... Can you help me wit' somethin'?" He looked around as though making sure no one was watching. "I just need... Well, you busy, or...?"

"Busy? I'm a gay man in a strip club full of naked women," Nate said. "I have never been less busy." He laughed nervously. "I, uh-" He stopped talking because Barrel scowled at him and placed his hand over Nate's mouth.

"Stop talking," he said. "Tell your friends you're leaving and go in there." He pointed to a shut door at the end of the corridor. Nate had always assumed that was a door outside, though there was no exit sign. There was an employees only placard on the door. "I'll meet you there." Then he turned around and went the other way.

Nate's knees were weak. He felt like such a child having a big-boy crush on a near-stranger and making the target of his lust uncomfortable. He could still feel the condensation from Barrel's breath on his cheek because the music was so loud that Barrel had to lean in close to be heard.

Though a part of Nate thought this was dangerous, he went to his friends and told them he was leaving. They were disappointed, but they were also distracted by that black girl's bouncing breasts and her thick ass.

Nate hurried back to that room. He knew he shouldn't have told his friends he was leaving. What if Barrel wanted to beat Nate up? Or kidnap him? Or just kill him? He could do that and his friends wouldn't miss him because he had already told them he was leaving the club.

The room was empty. It was a "champagne room", so the only furnishing was a single wooden chair in the center of the room. Strippers brought men in here to give them a private lapdance -- and probably sex, though obviously Nate had never been involved in any of that -- so there was glitter splattered on the walls, and the smell of sex, perfume and fruity body lotion lingered in the air.

Barrel came in behind Nate, carrying a small gym bag. He cleared his throat as he locked the door.

"You smell like baby powder," Barrel said. Nate couldn't tell if that was an accusation or just an observation.


"Shut up. You can talk in a minute," Barrel said. He took a deep breath. "My girl dumped me last week. She say I'm mean. Fuckin' bitch." He spat on the floor. "She say I'm a pervert."

"Oh, sweetie-"

"I say 'shut up'!" He barked, and Nate blushed. He had reached out to touch Barrel's forearm, but when he got angry, Nate held his arms by his side. Barrel took a deep breath. "I got... interests, that, uh... She wasn't nevuh really into 'em. She did it, cuz, y'know... I wanted to." He blushed, bit his lip and kicked his feet against the floor. His massive body writhed, all of his muscles flexing at once. "I, uh... I think you got the same interests as me. I mean... 'cept for the gay part."

"Oh... you mean... diapers?" Nate asked. He blushed too. This wasn't something he talked about with people he didn't know well.

He nodded. "I, uh... I like it when, y'know..."

"When she wears a diaper and you-"


"Oh. Oh! You like to wear the diaper?"

Barrel nodded. "I, uh... I liked it when she, y'know... She had this..." He paused for a long time. Then he took a deep breath. "Dildo."

"What? She had a dildo...?" Nate's mind whirred. "Oh. Oh. Oh! You like, uh, pegging?"

"What's that?"

"When a woman penetrates her man with a finger or a dildo or whatever," Nate said.

"Oh. Yeah. That," he said. He bit his lip. "So you..."

"You want me to do it? You want me to fuck you?"

He winced. "Could you not put it like that?"

"How do you want me to put it?"

"Just... don't. Don't say it out loud. You ain't gotta talk 'bout everything, y'know. That's why I don't like queers. Y'all never shut up, gotta tell e'ryone yo' opinion on e'rything that happens," he said. He sucked on his teeth and turned his baseball cap around backwards. "And if you ever tell anyone about this, I'll rip your nuts off."

"Okay, okay, I promise. It's just between us," Nate said. No one would believe him anyway, so he wasn't worried about having to keep it a secret.

"Good," Barrel sniffed. His noble, square jaw quivered. "You can play my daddy."


"I ain't gay," Barrel said as he picked up that gym bag he had brought in. He stripped off his wifebeater, making Nate drool at the sight of his sculpted chest. He was covered in colorful gang tats and a picture of an old lady, presumably his grandmother, over his heart.

"Okay," Nate said. He was worried that the more he said, the more likely Barrel was to change his mind.

"I'm serious. I ain't gay. I just... my girl dumped me, and I been fuckin' her... Or I mean... she been fuckin'... Well, we been fuckin' e'ry night," he said. "And now she gone. Today was gonna be our two-year anniversary. That's why I made plans to leave early tonight."

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