Midnight Fitting Room

I walked into the bar around two in the morning, when almost everyone had already cleared out. Behind the counter stood him—Mark. Tall, mid-thirties, with short dark stubble and eyes that locked onto you instantly. I ordered a whiskey. He slid the glass over, and our fingers brushed for a second. That little jolt shot straight through me. I felt my cock start to swell against my jeans.

"Kind of late for a drink," Mark said quietly, not breaking eye contact.

"Can't sleep," I answered. My name's Alex. "You working solo tonight?"

He smirked, wiping down the counter. There were only three other people left in the bar, but soon even they filtered out. Mark locked the front door and nodded at me.

"Come on. I've got a spot in the back."

We went through the storage room, then down a narrow hallway that led to the fitting room. On weekends, the bar hosted little costume parties, so behind the stage there was a real dressing room with heavy curtains and a full-length mirror covering the wall. Mark switched on a dim lamp. The shadows carved his cheekbones, making them sharper.

He stepped closer. I caught the scent of his skin—a mix of tobacco, expensive cologne, and that faint male musk. My dick was already rock hard.

"You've been staring at me all night," Mark whispered, pressing his chest against my back. "Thought I wouldn't notice?"

"You noticed," I breathed out. His palm landed on my stomach, then slid lower. His fingers wrapped around my stiff shaft through the fabric of my pants. I groaned.

"Fuck... you're so hot," he growled into my ear.

I spun around. Our mouths crashed together, hungry, tongues tangling. Mark shoved me back against the wall of the fitting room. His hands slipped under my shirt, pinching my nipples, while I fumbled with his belt. His cock sprang out—thick, heavy, with a bulging vein. I wrapped my hand around it and started stroking slowly.

"Suck it," Mark rasped, though it sounded more like a plea than a command.

I dropped to my knees right on the carpet. The smell of his balls hit me—warm, salty, intoxicating. I ran my tongue along the entire length, licked the head, collected the bead of precum. Mark let out a low growl and buried his fingers in my hair.

"Yeah... just like that... deeper, Alex..."

I took him all the way into my mouth, as far as I could. Saliva dripped down my chin. I sucked greedily, fast, feeling his thighs tremble. Mark fucked my mouth, not too deep, but rhythmic. The mirror across from us reflected everything: me on my knees with swollen lips, his slick cock disappearing between them.

Suddenly he pulled back and hauled me up by the shoulders.

"I want you. Right now."

We tore off the rest of our clothes. Mark spun me to face the mirror, made me brace my hands against the wall. I could see our reflection: two aroused male bodies, sweaty and tense. He spat into his palm, slicked up his cock and my hole. One finger slid in easily, then a second. I arched my back and moaned.

"More... come on..."

"Patience," he whispered, kissing my neck. His fingers twisted inside me, massaging my prostate until I was dripping. My cock hung between my legs, leaking.

Finally, Mark pressed the head against my entrance and pushed in slowly. I bit my lip. The pain quickly melted into searing pleasure. He filled me completely, all the way to the base. His balls pressed against mine.

"Oh fuck... you're so tight," Mark exhaled, and started to move.

Slow at first, almost gentle. Then faster. The sound of his hips slapping against my ass filled the cramped fitting room. I watched in the mirror as his powerful cock disappeared into me, watched my own lips parted in a moan.

"Fuck me harder... Mark... pound my ass..."

He snarled, grabbed my hips, and slammed into me for real. Every thrust reached the deepest part of me. My cock rubbed against the cold mirror, leaving wet streaks. I was already on the edge.

Mark leaned down and bit my shoulder.

"Come first. I want to feel you squeeze around me."

I couldn't hold back. Hot cum burst onto the mirror in thick spurts. I was crying out, shaking, while Mark kept drilling into me, stretching out my orgasm. Then he pulled out abruptly, spun me around, and forced me back to my knees.

"Open your mouth."

I obeyed. He jerked his cock, slick with my ass, right in front of my face. Within seconds, thick ropes of cum hit my tongue, my cheeks, my lips. I swallowed as much as I could, tasting the salt.

We were both panting. Mark ran his thumb across my bottom lip, wiping away the last traces of his cum, then pushed the finger into my mouth. I licked it clean.

"You staying till morning?" he asked, voice rough.

"Only if you promise a repeat," I grinned.

He pulled me into his arms, and we kissed again. Slower this time. The fitting room smelled of sex, sweat, and raw male hunger. Beyond the curtain, the city hummed quietly through the night, but we didn't give a damn.