Marcus’ phone buzzed in his pocket as he rounded the corner by the nightclub. He checked—he didn’t want to miss an emergency because he was too focused on blowing off steam—but it wasn’t anything like that.

Trevor had just replied to his earlier message informing his family that he had gone out clubbing. “Okay, buddy. Enjoy your evening. Make sure to use protection! 😉” was the response, which set off one or two alarm bells in Marcus’ head.

The thing was, Trevor had made a great effort to be sex-positive, but he had always been a bit hesitant about the subject. Besides the talk, Trevor never initiated that sort of conversation.

That Trevor, of all people, was hinting that he knew what Marcus would be getting up to at the club was nothing short of revolutionary. It should have been a welcome surprise but instead, Marcus’ instincts were all screaming at him that something—he didn’t know what—was wrong.

But this was his dad. He had never had reason to doubt the man he’d trusted to have his back for pretty much as long as he could remember. Not to mention that Marcus couldn’t really complain about the changes that had been happening to his dad recently.

He couldn’t say that he didn’t appreciate the way Trevor had been dressing. Maybe the way he was looking at and the things he’d been thinking about his dad were perverse and wrong, but those were his issues. He just couldn’t help himself.

Then again, it wasn’t like Trevor was doing much to discourage Marcus. Maybe it was the nigh-perpetual horniness he’d been feeling these past few days, or maybe it was his twisted mind bringing fantasies into the real world, but there was a part of him that was just sure Trevor was purposefully seducing his sons.

Marcus cursed under his breath. He had to stop. Thinking about his dad had gotten him horny again. He needed to focus. On going to the club. On landing a guy. On getting railed so hard, he forgot his troubles.

The club in question wasn’t an upscale establishment. It was in the neighborhood—or maybe the next one over—it was disputed—but it was a good enough place for drinks and hook-ups. The owner, Darwin, was a bit of a creep but was otherwise a pretty okay guy.

As Marcus came up to the door, the bouncer, Liam, greeted him. “Hey. Good to see you back.”

“Hey. Good to be back,” said Marcus. He eyed Liam fairly openly, his gaze drifting down the front of the bigger man’s body. His eyes were drawn pretty quickly to the sizable package between the man’s legs. He was so horny he wondered if Liam would let him suck him off if he fell to his knees then and there.

The outfit Liam was wearing did little to temper Marcus’ lust either. He was eye candy on a good day and his bouncer uniform didn’t diminish that in any way.

The black shirt was tight on his body. It was stretched taut across his firm chest. It looked vacuum-packed against his abs.

Liam’s pants were no less form-fitting. They highlighted his bulge and cupped his thighs. It wasn’t particularly visible from this angle, but Marcus knew from experience that Liam’s ass looked bomb in these pants, too.

Marcus couldn’t help but ogle. He didn’t necessarily think of himself as a slut, he rather preferred the term “experienced,” but the important thing was that he had gotten around in his time. Liam was one of the notches on his bedpost, and he remembered very well what was in those skinny jeans.

Liam’s smile lit up his entire face. “Did you know there’s going to be a dance competition tonight?” he said.

Marcus grinned, tearing his eyes away from Liam’s body to meet the bigger guy’s gaze. Even Liam’s eyes were pretty. “Of course I do. It’s exactly the kind of distraction I need.” He patted the gym bag he’d brought with him. “I came prepared, man.”

Liam laughed. His grin was practically radiant. “I’ll be cheering for you, Marcus. I’d wish you good luck, but you don’t need it. I’m sure the crowd will love it when you shake that cute little ass.”

Marcus chuckled. Liam was being cute. And he wasn’t one to turn down the compliment. “Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?”

“That’s because I am,” said Liam. He took a step forward, not a hint of shyness or restraint as he put his hands on Marcus’ waist. He pulled him in and kissed him, hand wandering down to cop a feel.

Marcus pulled back after the kiss and smirked, licking his lips while maintaining eye contact. “Are you going to be a bouncer all night?”

“Depends why you’re asking.”

Marcus chuckled. “I was wondering if the organizers would allow audience participation.”

Liam laughed. “I’m sure they would if you asked nicely. I doubt they could resist your charm,” he teased.

“Oh?” Marcus quirked an eyebrow. “I might just take advantage, then. It might give me an edge if I can show the audience how turned on I can make a guy.”

“Got a guy in mind?” said Liam, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Marcus laughed. “I do,” he said.

“He’ll be a lucky guy,” said Liam.

Marcus grinned. “I know.”

---

Marcus went to the changing room as soon as Liam let him inside the club. He’d worn something marginally more respectable leaving home: a nice v-neck that fit him well, shorts that made his ass look and feel good, a pair of well-worn sneakers, and a tasteful hoodie sweater. None of those things were still currently on his body.

The straps of a jock snapped against the back of Marcus’ thighs as he finished adjusting the underwear he was going to wear onto the stage. The pouch and straps were made of a shimmering, silvery material edged with satin black.

The jock was fitted in a way that made it lift Marcus’ bulge, not to the point that it looked like he was packing more than he was, but certainly enhancing the look of his endowment. It also framed his ass cheeks pretty well, making them look rounder and plumper, perfect for waving in the faces of thirsty audience members.

The next piece of the outfit that Marcus pulled on was a baby blue pair of shorts. They were so short they barely covered his ass and if he so much as bent an inch forward, his jockstrap would be visible through the bottom.

The shorts were in the style of running shorts, the kind with a slit on the sides. They were also made in such a way that he could tear them off with a sharp yank.

The top Marcus had chosen was a bubblegum pink one. It said the word “Brat” in bold baby blue letters across the front. The top part was pretty taut over his chest. The bottom part hung loosely just below the shelf of his pecs.

Marcus placed a baby blue baseball cap on his head, making sure to turn it backward. To round out the look: blue socks, pink sneakers, and a pair of fingerless gloves, one pink, one blue.

He admired his get-up in a nearby mirror. He looked like a proper snack in his outfit. It turned him on so much he had a visible lump in his shorts. But far from being a disadvantage, as his horniness had been these past few days, it was just another thing that would help him get ahead in the competition.

Marcus was playing to win. The competitive part of him demanded no less. But if he was being honest, his objective was something else. He was going to dance to pull a guy, one that would get so horny he’d fuck Marcus hard enough to forget his own name.

As he looked himself up and down in the mirror, Marcus was suddenly seized by an impish thought. He moved like a man possessed, fishing his phone out of his bag.

He struck the sluttiest, most seductive pose he could in the mirror and took a selfie. His hesitation lasted for all of a heartbeat before he sent the picture off to the group chat.

Marcus followed the picture with a message: “Bitch, you wish you looked half as good as I do.” He watched closely as the app registered his family seeing the message one by one.

Tristan was the first to respond. “Bitch, no one wants to see that,” he said. He should have been at work at the precinct, but clearly, he was paying more attention to his phone. Marcus shook his head and clicked his tongue—not that he was as much of a stickler for professionalism as Derek was.

Leo’s reply followed a few seconds later. “Bro! I’d rather not think about what you get up to in the club!”

Marcus rolled his eyes. The responses were about what he expected of the two. Derek, on the other hand, spent nearly a whole minute typing before stopping, starting, stopping again, and then finally replying.

“Delete this! You know this is inappropriate!” Terse, stern, and straight to the point. Yep. That was Derek, alright.

Leo responded pretty quickly after that. “Keep it! If he wants to show off, let him show off! Let’s see what Dad says about it.”

There was a brief pause. And then, another message came in from Leo. “Slut.”

Marcus was in the middle of faking an apology for sending the message to the wrong chat when the app showed that Trevor had seen the message. His breath caught in his throat. His heart skipped a beat. His thumbs wouldn’t move, however much he willed them as he watched the app show that Trevor was typing.

“Boys. Be nice to your brother. Clearly, he mis-sent the message.”

Even though he appreciated that Trevor came to his defense, Marcus couldn’t help but feel a bit put out by the relatively tame response. Though the fact that Trevor was still typing gave him hope. Hope for what, exactly, he wasn’t sure. And maybe it was childish, but part of him wanted Trevor to notice him.

He knew it was wrong on so many levels, but he couldn’t help it. Maybe it was a guilt thing. He felt bad for having dirty thoughts about Trevor. But maybe, if somehow he knew his dad saw him the same way, he’d feel less guilty.

The message came in and Marcus nearly couldn’t bear to read it. The moment he did, his brain short-circuited.

“Don’t listen to your brothers, Marcus. You’re a sexy, attractive young man. If you want to show off what you’ve got, you should.”

That much was bad enough, but Trevor wasn’t finished. A few moments later, another message came through.

“Honestly, if I were a few decades younger…”

That was it. Marcus felt as if his cock was going to burst out of his shorts. Every thought in his head ground to a screeching halt.

“No! Dad! No! Gross!” came the near-instant response from Tristan.

“LMFAO. Good one, Dad!” said Leo, followed by a string of laughing emojis.

Derek, as always, took his time. When he finally responded, he tried to be the voice of reason. “Please don’t encourage this, dad.”

Another message from Trevor came in shortly thereafter. “I’m just saying, boys. Your brother is hot. Any guy would be lucky to score with him.”

Marcus furiously erased the half-assed apology he was going to give. He typed one-handed, as he couldn’t resist grabbing his cock and massaging himself through his shorts. “Thanks, Dad. I think I get it from you. 😉”

Fuck. Marcus needed dick right now. Or else he was going to lose it.

---

The club’s stage manager, Kay, came up to Marcus. He looked pretty cute in his production uniform, with his tablet in hand and a headset on.

Kay had been another of Marcus’ conquests. He wasn’t the most well-endowed—his cock was seven inches but more on the slender side—but he more than made up for it with other talents.

Marcus couldn’t help but shiver at the memory. Kay throated dick like no one else. He pretty much had no gag reflex. Deep-throating was basically foreplay for Kay.

Kay’s tongue was talented, too. So talented, in fact, that he’d made Marcus come using nothing but his tongue on one occasion.

“You’ll be on in five,” said Kay with a little smile, returning the little up-and-down look that Marcus had given him as he approached.

“Is everything good?” said Marcus.

Kay grinned. “Of course, Marcus. Music’s lined up and the team’s ready to improvise on your lights.”

Marcus scratched the back of his neck. “I’m really sorry to put that on your team,” he said.

Kay waved him off. “It’s only natural you wouldn’t be prepared with a light show as a last-minute entrant. But honestly, we were hoping you’d come sign up. Trust me, the team will do their best. None of us want to disappoint.”

“Yeah… I was recently pretty sick, so I didn’t hear the news until, well, today,” said Marcus.

Kay chuckled. “The important part is that you’re here now.”

“Careful now. They might think the judges are biased,” said Marcus with a laugh.

“I’m just the stage manager—I don’t get a say in who wins.” The corner of Kay’s mouth curled in a little smirk as he leaned in somewhat conspiratorially and added, “But off the record, the judges are all pretty big fans.”

“I almost feel bad having such an edge,” said Marcus. “But I gotta admit. It feels good to be recognized for being hot.” His cheeks burned as he remembered the message Trevor had sent earlier. Fuck, was he horny.

“You look excited,” Kay teased, his eyes tracking pointedly toward the bulge in Marcus’ shorts.

“Fuck. I’m so horny. You don’t even know,” said Marcus.

“That’s only going to be another plus for you with the crowd we’ve got tonight,” said Kay. “Everyone likes watching a fat cock flop around.”

Marcus snickers. “Well, they’re gonna get a hell of a show, then,” he said as he adjusted his cock in his shorts, squeezing himself while he was at it. “It’s barely staying put as it is.”

“And that’s that for the ever-so-bootylicious Barry! Coming up…”

“Your turn,” said Kay as the emcee introduced Marcus. He groped Marcus’ bulge and grinned. “I’m rooting for you. And I’m looking forward to the next time we get to play together.”

Marcus returned Kay’s grin. “Believe me, Kay. I’m looking forward to it, too.”

---

“You know him. You love him. And I can bet you all want him. The next guy’s a bit of a last-minute surprise but you can be sure he’ll give us one hell of a show so I don’t think any of you will be complaining… Here’s Marcus Chan!”

The crowd roared, but the exuberance was brief. This might have been a nightclub in one of the poorer neighborhoods of the city, but this was a serious competition.

Marcus sauntered onto the stage with a seductive sway in his hips. The music wasn’t playing yet, so the silence was poignant. He stopped in the middle of the stage as the light dimmed, except for two spotlights that focused on him. He could feel the eyes of the crowd all trained on him.

He put a hand on his cap, looked to the side, and tilted his head back. He spread his legs, thrust his hips toward the audience, and placed a hand strategically over the bulge in his shorts. He closed his eyes, took a breath, and reveled in the attention.

The music track he’d picked out started with a slow, seductive jazz melody. Without opening his eyes, Marcus rolled his hips, gyrating his body, grinding against the air to the mellow rhythm.

And then the beat dropped. His head snapped to face the crowd. He gave them his most intense, most smoldering expression and let the music flow through him.

Marcus ran forward and dropped to his knees, sliding toward the pole in front of the stage as the bass pumped through his veins. He didn’t make use of the pole just yet, though, rolling to the side and swinging his legs out in front of him.

He planted his feet on the stage and braced one hand against the floor behind him. He spread his legs and threw his head back, grabbing his bulge with his free hand as he did so. He thrust his hips, fucking the air one, two, three times with the beat of the music.

There was a brief lull in the track—for emphasis—and the crowd went wild.

Pressing against the stage with his feet, it was a simple matter for Marcus to flip over onto his front from the previous three-legged crab position. He lowered his knees to the stage, placing both hands against the floor in front of him.

Marcus met the eyes of the guys in the front row and smirked. He turned to the side and spread his legs. Bracing one arm against the stage, he took his other hand and ran it down along the front of his torso.

The music swelled. He thrust his hips. He pounded the air in time with the beat and sang along to the music. “Gonna fuck ya! Gonna cunt ya! Gonna make you scream!”

Marcus lowered his chest to the stage. He arched his back, pushing his ass into the air. He swept his free hand around his flank and spanked his ass once. He bucked his hips, mouthing the next line too. “Gonna beg ya! Gonna take ya! Gonna get your cream!”

A thin sheen of sweat covered Marcus at this point. The stage was warm from the lights, but the club itself felt hotter than it usually was.

A guy in the front row took a long drag off of something that looked like a vape. It was a narrow black rectangle that lit up with purple circuit lines along the length of it when the guy took a drag off of it.

The man’s eyes went glassy. His pupils dilated. His irises glowed a faint, smoky purple. Then, he clenched his vape in his fist, thrust it into the air, and bounced on his feet as he cheered for Marcus.

When the man exhaled, a thin haze of purplish smoke escaped him and drifted straight toward Marcus.

Marcus couldn’t avoid it. He inhaled some of the vapor. He nearly stumbled as it filled his lungs. There was a chemical undertone, but the faintly sweet musk was somewhat familiar.

A low moan escaped Marcus. His cock was throbbing. His head was fuzzy. The arousal pumping through his veins near-doubled in intensity.

Somehow, he managed to get back on his feet. He continued to dance, his cock so hard it was a miracle it hadn’t already burst out of his shorts. He gyrated his hips and rolled his body, his abs stretching and contracting, glistening with sweat.

As he danced, Marcus noticed that the guy in the front row wasn’t the only one with a vape. He could see the distinctive purple lines lighting up all throughout the crowd. Hell, there was a faint purplish haze in the air.

A small part of Marcus was ringing alarm bells in his head, but he was too drunk on the attention, too absorbed in the music and the performance that he didn’t pay it much attention. It was time to move on to the next part.

Marcus grabbed the pole. He was sweating more than he normally would be. His chest was heaving with shallow breaths. His face was hot, and so were his ears. He’d never been so openly desperate for cock on stage before.

A low moan spilled from Marcus’ lips as he pressed his hips against the steel pole. His stiff cock rubbed against the metal, sending electric pleasure through his body.

He looked out over the crowd. Their attention remained firmly on him. He ground his hips against the pole, practically frotting with the cold steel.

Marcus slid his hands down the length of the pole until they were just over his crotch. Then he leaned back and thrust his hips, moving his hand suggestively up and down the pole.

The purple haze in the air was getting thicker as more and more people brought out the strange vape. Instead of being alarmed, though, Marcus only got hornier.

He wrapped his legs around the pole. He leaned back, holding on with only one hand. He grinned for the crowd, rolling his body as he hung suspended off the ground. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed the waistband of his shorts and ripped them off.

The crowd erupted when Marcus’ shiny jock was revealed. Looking out over the audience, he saw something that made his eyes widen and his cock throb. He could have sworn he saw Trevor.

Marcus blinked and looked again, but try as he might, he couldn’t find Trevor again. The damage was done, though. The idea that his dad could be watching him dance like a whore onstage was enough to send him into overdrive. The pouch of his jock tented out, straining to contain his cock.

It didn’t matter if he’d only hallucinated his dad in the crowd. The moment he got the idea in his head that Trevor might be in the audience, the context of the performance changed.

Marcus wasn’t dancing to pull any guy anymore. He was dancing to pull Trevor. He was down bad. He wanted his dad. He craved his dad. And he was going to give the performance of his life in the hope that it would get him what he needed.

---

Marcus was at the bar—the natural place to go after winning a dance competition—and had the trophy he got for his triumph on the counter next to him. He was sitting in Liam’s lap, wearing just his jockstrap and sneakers as he’d tossed both his shirt and cap into the crowd.

He was feeling buzzed even though he hadn’t even had more than two drinks. Maybe he was just hopped up on adrenaline. Normally, he would be able to tell, but he was so wired he didn’t much care to look into it.

Marcus tilted his head back and moaned as Liam nibbled on his neck. “Did you see me on stage?” he said almost breathlessly.

“I did,” said Liam, pressing his lips against the side of Marcus’ neck. “It was the performance of a lifetime. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone seduce the entire club. I’m surprised you didn’t get mobbed.”

“Anyone that harasses the winner is going on my shit list.”

Marcus jumped. He hadn’t even noticed Darwin—the owner of the club—approach. Normal people shouldn’t have been able to sneak up on him. Clearly, he was more buzzed than he thought he was.

“You were born for this sort of thing, you know,” said Darwin. There wasn’t anything wrong with what he said, but the way he looked at Marcus, his eyes practically leering at Marcus’ body, was a bit off-putting.

Marcus, for his part, didn’t much mind. Not tonight. Not when he was feeling pretty self-satisfied. “It felt damn good to be on stage,” he said.

Darwin’s gaze raked up and down along Marcus’ body. “You ever consider making it more of a regular thing?” he said.

“I’ve never really thought about it that way…” said Marcus.

“You should think about it,” said Darwin. He took out one of those vapes Marcus had been seeing all night and took a long drag. He exhaled a purplish cloud of billowing vapor right into Marcus’ face. “I think this is where you belong.”

Before Marcus could say anything in response, his head swimming from the haze filling his lungs, Liam stepped in. “Probably not the best time to have this conversation, boss. Marcus just won the competition. We should let him celebrate.”

Darwin cracked a grin and pocketed the vape. “I bet you want to celebrate really badly with this cute piece of ass,” he said.

“I’m pretty excited too,” Marcus giggled. “I was kind of hoping he’d just bend me over and fuck me already.”

Liam laughed. “That so? You really mean it?”

Marcus swiped his unfinished drink off the counter and knocked back what remained of it. “I do,” he said.

Liam reached into his pants and fished out his cock. He was hard as a rock, but Marcus knew that. He’d been feeling Liam’s erection pressing up against his ass cheek since he sat in Liam’s lap, after all.

With a small smirk, Liam grabbed himself by the base of his cock. Pre-cum was beading on the tip of his dick. “Go on, then. Sit on me.”

Marcus didn’t need further encouragement. He’d prepped before coming to the club and was ready for dick. He arched his back and moaned as he dropped himself on the end of Liam’s fat hog, his own twitching as inch after inch sank into his heat.

Liam leaned in, chest pressing against Marcus’ back. He reached up and stroked his fingers through Marcus’ hair. “You’re doing so well, taking my cock. You were amazing on stage. You made me so fucking proud.”

Marcus moaned. The voice he was hearing wasn’t Liam’s, but Trevor’s. He was fantasizing that the arm wrapped around his middle was his dad’s, the cock inside him, his dad’s. “Fuck. Thank you, Daddy,” he whined without thinking.

He didn’t get much of an opportunity to feel mortified when he realized what he’d said. He felt Liam’s cock jump inside him.

Liam nibbled on the lobe of Marcus’ ear. “Fuck. I like that. Why don’t you be a good boy and let ‘Daddy’ take care of you?”

Marcus didn’t think he’d ever been so hard.

He might have been satisfied to just enjoy Liam’s stiff cock, but out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a group of shady figures. There were three men, two bigger, taller ones, standing behind and to either side of the one that seemed to be their leader.

Darwin was talking to the group, but Marcus couldn’t tell what he was saying. He handed a briefcase over to one of the escorts, who opened it to reveal wads of cash that were presented to the leader.

The leader nodded and motioned to the other escort. A cardboard box was produced and given to Darwin, who tucked it under one arm before going in to shake the leader’s hand.

The three shady guys turned to leave, but the leader stopped for a moment. He looked familiar, though Marcus couldn’t put a finger on why. His eyes were peculiar, a strange purplish-blue shade that Marcus could have sworn he’d already seen before.

When their gazes met, Marcus couldn’t help but flush, his pupils dilating. The leader didn’t say anything, though. He just smirked and left with his escorts.

Marcus wanted to ask what that was about, in case Liam knew, but then that thick cock that he’d almost forgotten about found his prostate. Suddenly, all other thoughts were thrown out.

He arched his back and moaned, bouncing his ass on Liam’s cock. It was the only thing he could think of.