It was supposed to have been about you–you were the one who brought them here, after all. A cute younger couple, friends of yours, and you knew the perfect bar where the three of you could hang out after work–a bit kinky, a little strange, but all fun. See, they were a bit too…vanilla for your tastes, and despite your obvious interest, neither one of them seemed very interested on opening up and letting you play with them, either together or separate. So, why not help things out a bit, right? That’s what Pigtown was for. It had helped you out, after all–shown you what you could be, and now you could introduce the two of them to what they could be, in your eyes.
Yeah, you’d wanted a couple of cubby slaves, right? Two boys, maybe even brothers, both of them obsessed with you, focused on you and your pleasure, willing to do anything to make you happy. Because that’s what had always bothered you most, was that ever since the two of them had met–ever since you’d introduced them to each other, two years back at a party–they’d…become so much more interested in each other than they ever had been in you, and fuck, you hated that. So you plied them with beers, got them loosened up, the regulars all circling around, looking for an opening to jump in and spoil things, so when they start getting horny, you drag them back into the club, find somewhere a bit secluded, and start trying to work them over into what you want them to be.
But it was like herding cats, with the two of them. You’d get them down on their knees, your cock in their face, and after a couple of licks each, they’d just start making out with one another instead. You tried working on them one at a time, but somehow the other would slide right in and replace you before you even knew what was happening. Neither of them is shaping up how you wanted–they’re growing older, more muscular, more confident. Two…hot fucking leather daddies in love and lust with one another, and there you are, six feet away, leaning in a doorway–watching.
Watching them like you’ve been doing for years now, on the outside all over again. You should try again, but honestly? It’s too exhausting to keep trying. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be. You…got replaced, and you don’t have to like it, but…maybe it’s time to give up. Settle in. They are…fucking sexy together, you have to admit. You did always like watching them together, didn’t you? Whispering in each other’s ears, laughing–you were on the outside and that burned you up, but the curiosity was always there. They never cared about you, but you have always cared about them, watched them, obsessed over them, desired them from afar. They don’t…even know you exist, but then who would want to notice you? It’s not like you’re really anything to look at–not anymore, at least.
Because you’ve been changing, leaning there, staring at them hungrily. You’re shorter and fatter. Older still, at least fifty if not sixty. Four inch cock, getting shorter with every stroke, tongue hanging out, eyes glued to the sexy daddies fucking each other’s brains out against the wall. Better than porn–and you should know, after all, since that’s all you do with your time now, you fucking voyeur. Just a fat old faggot, sitting at home all day, masturbating, and then you come here to pigtown, and watch people sexier than you fuck and masturbate to that too. No one even sees you. No one cares about you, and you hate it, but that’s just the way things are now.
The bears finish up after half an hour, and the couple heads off into the club to find a couple other guys to play with. They walk right past you, through the doorway–one of them even bumping into your big, furry gut, but he doesn’t apologize, or even recognize you. You’re a ghost now. You look down and realize what you just allowed happen, but it’s too late for you–there’s another scene brewing in the next room, and the sounds of men rutting draw you like a fly to a wound, jacking your short cock. Invisible, desperate, and always alone.
Bracken's Corner 