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Getting used at the gay bar


Bi****

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Posted
**This is a fantasy of mine and contains ***d sex**

I walked into the dimly lit bathroom of the local gay bar, feeling a sense of unease as I noticed the hungry gazes of the men around me. I knew I was out of place, the only straight man in a room full of eager eyes and wandering hands.

Before I could even react, a strong hand grabbed me from behind and pushed me into one of the stalls. Panic surged through me as I realized what was happening, but the man was relentless, his grip on my shoulders firm and unyielding.

I tried to protest, to push him away, but he was too strong. He ***d me down to my knees, his cock already hard and demanding attention. My heart raced as I hesitated, the *** of the unknown overwhelming me.

I could hear the muffled sounds of the other men outside the stall, their voices filled with excitement and lust. They egged him on, encouraging him to use me for their own pleasure, and I felt a deep sense of *** wash over me.

But as the man's cock pressed against my lips, I knew there was no turning back. With a mixture of *** and arousal, I reluctantly opened my mouth and took him in, his groans of pleasure filling the small space. The taste of him was foreign and overwhelming, but a part of me couldn't deny the strange thrill of it all.

As he thrust into my mouth, rough and demanding, I felt a sense of ***ness wash over me. I wanted to push him away, to scream for help, but a part of me couldn't deny the undeniable thrill of being used in such a way.

When he pulled me up and turned me around, pressing me against the filthy stall wall, I protested, my voice shaky and weak. But the man behind me was unrelenting, his hands gripping my hips as he pushed into me ***fully.

The *** and the pleasure mingled together, overwhelming my senses as I was taken by a stranger in a dingy bathroom stall. I could feel the eyes of the other men on me, their lustful gazes fueling my desire despite the *** and shame that threatened to consume me.

As the night wore on, the men in the bathroom stall continued to use me with a relentless hunger that bordered on desperation. Each man had a different size and shape, their hands rough and demanding as they explored every inch of my body. I felt a sense of *** wash over me as I was passed around like a toy, my body and mind overwhelmed by the mix of *** and desire that consumed me.

One man was particularly rough, his cock thick and unyielding as he ***d it into my mouth, his groans of pleasure echoing through the cramped space. I gagged and ***d on him, the taste of him foreign and overwhelming, but a part of me couldn't deny the strange thrill of being used in such a way.

Another man was gentler, his touch surprisingly tender as he explored my body with a reverence that sent shivers down my spine. I could feel the contrast between the roughness of the others and the softness of his touch, the sensation of being wanted and desired in a way that I had never experienced before.

But it was the man behind me, his cock pressing into me ***fully, that ignited a fire within me that I couldn't ignore. The *** and pleasure mingled together as he took me with a relentless intensity, his hands gripping my hips as he pushed deeper and deeper into me. I could feel the eyes of the other men on me, their lustful gazes fueling my desire despite the *** and shame that threatened to consume me.

And as the night came to an end and the men finally left me alone in the stall, my body trembling with the aftershocks of pleasure, a strange sense of acceptance washed over me. I stumbled out of the bathroom, my clothes rumpled and my body marked with bruises and bite marks, but a mix of shame and excitement coursed through me. I knew that I had crossed a line that I could never uncross, but a part of me couldn't help but crave more of the thrill and the pleasure that I had discovered within myself.

As I sat at the bar, my mind reeling with the events of the night, I couldn't help but feel a strange sense of liberation and desire. I had been used, taken, and yet a part of me couldn't deny the undeniable thrill of the experience. And as I left the bar that night, my body still tingling with the memory of the relentless group that had used me for their pleasure, I knew that I had finally embraced a part of myself that I had long denied.
Posted
Sounds very interesting
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