Twins High Quality XXX

Coming home to an empty house.

Dirk backed up to the bar as he looked out over the crowd for his possible connection and was getting an overhead view of the stage action. And what was happening there was riveting. A young man, pretty much of the same type as Dirk himself, was playing a pole, Roman motif. He was wearing a short skirt and laced up gold sandals and had gold bands around his biceps and his forehead. Standing on either side of him as he worked on the pole were two bulky gladiators. In short order, as Dirk's time at the bar spun out, the three men were on a couch down there, with the pole dancer in the middle taking the cocks of the two gladiators in a shared hole.

The clientele was already pretty much ahead of the entertainment when Dirk arrived. Most of the tables on the tiers banking down to the stage were occupied by shadowy figures in various stages of copulation. The only table with only a single occupant was taken by a swarthy-looking, thin man, whose eyes lighted on Dirk as soon as the young man entered the room.

The swarthy stranger was half rising and beckoning to Dirk, but Dirk had backed into two strong arms at the bar, which gathered his small body into the barstool, where a massive leatherman was perched. He was a muscle-bound biker type, wearing a black leather vest over a hairy barrel chest; leather pants open at the crotch, with his privates covered by a leather codpiece. His costume was completed by black leather boots and a black leather beret-type hat.

The bruiser had taken possession of Dirk straightaway with no preliminaries. Dirk whispered, "Are you the man?"

"I'm the man for you, sweet cheeks," the hulk growled. Even while he answered he was unzipping Dirk's butt crack. It didn't take him long to release the pouch holding in his cock and balls, either, or to go to town by putting Dirk on the cock.

Must be my contact, Dirk, thought. He'll slip me the envelope while everyone thinks we're hot and heavy doing something else.

What the leatherman was slipping Dirk, though, was a massive cock. Remaining perched on the bar stool, he held the much smaller rent boy in front of him, encasing him in beefy, tattooed arms, a hand cupping Dirk's chin. Dirk moved his legs back on either side of the stool and leveraged off the front panel of the bar with his feet, fucking himself on the cock, at first waiting for the exchange to happen, but quite soon concentrating on the rough fuck and on the DP performance down on the stage.

This spying thing could be a lot of fun, he thought.

Another biker type cozied up to the bar next to the fucking pair in mid fuck and started participating to the extent the first big bruiser would let him. Stroking Dirk's body, kissing Dirk. Even kissing the other biker.

When the first biker had fired off, he released Dirk, who immediately found himself in the embrace of the second biker. The first one snapped up his crotch pouch and started to move off.

"Hey," Dirk called after him, "Don't you have something to-?"

"If you wanted to be paid, blondie, you should have said something off the top," the leatherman said, as he turned and kept on walking.

"Not money. Don't you have-?"

"I've got what you want, sweetie," The second biker said, holding Dirk tight to him and using his other hand to explore.

"Oh, good," Dirk said.

The biker threw Dirk over his shoulder and moved across the bar front to a doorway covered with a beaded curtain. He fucked Dirk against the wall in the dark hallway beyond, with Dirk's legs hooked on his hips and Dirk's arms around his neck.

He too, though, just zipped up and disappeared back through the beaded curtain after he was finished.

Dirk stumbled out into the main room, only then seeing the swarthy-looking man at a table a couple of tiers down toward the stage waving frantically at him.

As Karl had told Dirk the exchange would happen, the man unzipped Dirk's leather pants at the slit in the calf of the right leg, inserted an envelope, and then zipped the leg back up.

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