TRANSFERRING LIMITS WITH G (IV)

I'm still with my head exploding from what just happened on the outdoor terrace, and once my package was thoroughly familiar with G's caresses and manipulations, it was my turn to take him to dinner at a nearby restaurant in Chueca where, except for two tables, the rest were occupied by other couples of guys.

G allowed me not to take off the thin jacket that covered my crop top, and otherwise, dinner unfolded normally. G asked me about my tastes, hobbies, and shared details about his relationships. Everything was calm. Aside from the fact that G decided for me what I would eat (a salad), and of course, I ended up inviting him, I would describe the dinner as being the closest thing to a "first dates" scenario. At least that’s what someone watching us from the outside would think. It helped me relax quite a bit.

After finishing, G ordered us to go to a nearby bar. I think it was called Lakama, and it was quite crowded for a weekday night. The bar was gay; it was clear from the promotional posters, although from what little I dared to look at the entrance (I was dead embarrassed), there were a few of everything and quite a few girls… in a very young atmosphere (20-30 years old).

G seemed to have been to the place before because he led me directly upstairs through a narrow staircase and smiled when he saw that the farthest end from the entrance, a corner of a long sofa with tables in front, was empty.

“Sit there, hetero, and make yourself comfortable,” he said, pointing to the far end of the sofa, in a corner that touched the wall.

He sat next to me. Next to him, a group of five boys and girls were gathered around one of the tables, and judging by the number of empty glasses and the liveliness of their conversation, they had been there for a long time. Outside of them, and due to the layout of the corner, we were less exposed to the rest of the bar.

My brain processed all this with fear, but G didn’t give me much time to think. After the “romantic dinner,” G returned to being the dominant figure I knew and found fascinating.

Without asking me, he took the menu and ordered two identical cocktails with vodka and other colorful liquids from a waiter who approached.

After that, checking the time, he ran his hand around my neck and pulled me towards him, forcing me to look directly at him. We were sitting next to each other very close, our thighs touching.

“There's a little over an hour until the point of no return. Although I’m clear about what you’re going to decide, let’s make sure you leave with a good memory of this place, shall we?”

Red with embarrassment, I nodded.

“Don’t make that face; I know you’re wishing for this, you need it... right?”

He grabbed my face by the chin, and as if I were a ventriloquist’s puppet, he made me nod, in a strangely humiliating gesture that made my cock wake up again.

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