Why was he here? That was the one question that rang through Arlo's mind as he stepped into the sleazy, dimly lit space of a dive bar on the outer edges of town. Arlo was a good kid-- did his homework, took out the trash when his mom asked, kept his room clean...if anyone caught him here, they'd be shocked-- they might even think he had a screw loose. The 16-year-old swallowed his nerves and pushed, swinging the door open and stepping answer.

To answer that question, he simply didn't know. No-one had dared him to be here, nor was he being blackmailed. In fact, he'd only found out about the dive bar because he'd overheard it from a couple of people whilst he was out shopping on town last week, and his curiosity had prompted him to look it up on his laptop. There were some not-so-nice words to say about the place, but that didn't matter; he was here only for one thing.

The first thing that assaulted his senses was the smell of alcohol, that hung heavy in the air that made his throat tingle and his stomach churn. He'd never drank before, never considered what it meant to be drunk, and most of what he imagined was from TV shows and movies. The second thing to hit him was the smoke-- it was like a fog that blanketed the upper half of the bar, and with every breath he took it entered his lungs. It was definitely cigarette smoke, for sure, but there was a something of something else in there that made him feel hazy. He tried to ignore it and stepped forwards, weaving his way around pool tables and heading towards the bar. There, a grisly man stood behind the counter, pouring drinks for a couple of the regulars who sat at the front. No-one looked his way as he sat down, and for a moment he anxiously tapped on the wooden surface, squirming a little in his seat.

"What can I get for you?" The bartender's sudden voice made him perk up and he averted his gaze for a moment to look around the bar. They hadn't even been looking at him initially, but he felt some eyes on him now. Did they notice he was only a teen? Arlo looked a little older for his age, and his moderately athletic frame from football practice helped to cement that thought. He parted his muzzle at first to speak, but then felt a sudden, weighty hand on his shoulder.

"Lemon Twist." Someone spoke for him, and Arlo raised his gaze to see a pot-bellied Rottweiler, with thick arms and legs, standing beside him. Arlo, a auburn and grey-furred lemur, averted his eyes from the man, but that hand squeezed his shoulder as if to soothe him. For a moment the Rottweiler stood there, before he sighed and shifted, lowering himself into the bar stool next to the boy. It creaked under his weight and threatened to give, but it somehow held. Arlo watched as the bartender poured out a sweet-looking cocktail with a bright yellow colour, and he plopped a few cubes inside before he strode across the counter, placing it in front of the lemur for him to take. For a moment, Arlo hesitantly toyed the rim of the glass with his fingers, before he gingerly lifted it and brought it to his primate lips.

It was sweet, but also excruciatingly sour, and it burned in his throat as he swallowed. He did his best not to cough and hoped another swig would help to drown out the first one-- that was his first mistake of the night. If anything, it exacerbated it and he placed the glass down, his tongue reflexively lifting up to generate some spit he could swallow, and each faux-gulp eased that burning sensation. The drink was strong; he was already starting to feel just a little woozy, or was it the smoke that made him feel that way? He didn't know whether to hold his breath or cough. Beside him, the Rottweiler grunted his amusement.

"This you?" His voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, as he placed a thick industrial-sized phone on the counter, opened up on a familiar cruising app profile. This was predominantly how Arlo had found the place; his searches pulled up history on the bar and general information, but it was in the popular gay cruising app, Ridr, that he'd found out why it was so popular. Arlo's gaze drifted across the contents of his own profile, and he inwardly cringed at the photo he'd used as his main icon; it was him on halloween, wearing a skull mask that mostly covered his features and made him unindentifiable...and, like the naive 16-year-old he was, he still used his full name. Of course, the age was a lie-- he wasn't actually 18.

"Yeah." Arlo mumbled and rubbed the back of his neck, and with a grunt the Rottweiler withdrew his phone, stuffing it into his pocket.

"Yer a lot cuter in person than in the photos," The man remarked. "And you can hold your liquor. Good."

"Um...I guess you're Grayson?" Arlo kept his voice hushed, not wanting to draw attention to himself, but the Rottweiler didn't even try to keep himself quiet. He merely grunted his approval and moved, suddenly rising from his seat and reaching out to grab the lemur by the arm. With a light tug, he coaxed the boy to stand too, and the 16-year-old tried not to think too much about how the canine had a good few inches on him in height.

"I'm an impatient man, boy," The canine muttered, not even trying to hide his lust. "So let's skip the small talk."

"O-Okay." The lemur didn't know what else to say, and with another tug the man half-led, half-dragged him across the room. Embarrassment and excitement rushed through Arlo's body, as he both anticipated what was to come, and also felt shame when the eyes of other people at the bar followed him across the room. He didn't even bother to ask about his drink; frankly, he didn't want it.

They stepped through a door at the far end of the bar, a small bathroom of sorts meant only for one person, and as the door clicked shut, the Rottweiler reached over to twist a dial, locking it to give them some privacy. The lemur was unceremoniously manhandled over towards the toilet and thrown down upon it, and Arlo briefly recoiled when his jeans touched the rim-- thankfully, it felt clean. That wasn't what mattered though-- Arlo barely had time to process and warm up before the Rottweiler was popping the button of his jeans, yanking down the zipper and digging his hand inside to wrestle with what was beneath.

"You were late, kid," The Rottweiler muttered. "Your parents stay up too late so you couldn't sneak out?"

"Wha--" The lemur began, but he faltered when the man unceremoniously pulled out his cock, already at a throbbing half-mast, and it twitched to life in front of the primate, swelling rapidly in clear anticipating of the 16-year-old's attention. It was humanoid in shape, pure black, with a pinkish tip that became further revealed when the man peeled the foreskin back.

"Yer secret's safe with me, kid. You think I'm a fucking idiot?" The Rottweiler grunted. "You're mature enough anyway. You want a taste of this? You're not a virgin, are you?"

"N...No." Arlo lied through his teeth and leant forwards, trying to muster up some confidence as he wrapped his slender fingers around the base of the cock with one hand, and grabbed closer towards the halfway mark with the other, angling it upwards. It pulsed against his digits and rapidly hardened, and the thickness of it felt like too much for him to take, both orally or otherwise-- hell, he hadn't even properly prepared himself for anal. He just hoped that it wouldn't go that far.

He could see Grayson was getting impatient, so he parted his lips and wrapped them around the head of that cock, straining to keep his jaw open as much as it cock as the length of it slid along his tongue and towards the back of his throat. His gag reflex kicked in immediately and he pulled back-- thankfully, the Rottweiler was at least a little patient enough to let him get used to it first, to the lemur took it a little more slowly, gently yet rhythmically starting to bob his head up and down a couple of inches of that member. He couldn't even fathom how big it was; he wasn't too good with numbers. It was maybe 9 inches? 10? It was hard to tell.

As he bobbed, he heard the flick of something above him and the jingling of metal, and he raised his head slightly and lifted his gaze to see the canine pulling a cigarette out of a small carton and  smouldering the end of it with a little metal lighter. He took a plentiful drag of the tabacco before he looked down and slowly breathed it from his mouth, admiring the lemur's efforts with a lidded gaze. The smoke burned Arlo's eyes and he scrunched them shut, his nostrils involuntarily breathing in the smoke as he pushed himself further down. He felt the mass of a hand on the back of his head, stroking against his fur, and the part of him inside that was tentative about his sexuality spiralled and twisted with glee at the praise.

"Yer a fuckin' liar, kid," Grayson spoke bluntly, his fingers curling around the teen's head. "You're a virgin, but I ain't got the time to pop that cherry. I just need to get my nut off."

Without warning, the Rottweiler pushed the lemur's head down. Arlo tried to push back against it, but he could barely even resist against the weight of that hand on the back of his head, and the cock slid deeper and deeper into his mouth, pushing towards the back of his throat. It abruptly slid down after some resistance and stretched his throat out, and his muscles involuntarily spasmed and tried to 'gulp' down the intrusion instinctively, though it wasn't going anywhere. Panic surged through the boy's mind and his hands, now removed from the canine's cock, pressed against those weighty hips and pushed in an effort to ease himself off, but the man's strength was surprising, and kept him down. He couldn't breathe. He, who had never even sucked someone's cock before, couldn't breathe. He felt the moisture in his eyes before the panic even settled in, and the noise that came from his throat was something akin to a pained cry.

Grayson's grip loosened, just enough for Arlo to pull back and suck in a breath through his nostrils, before he was pushed down again. This was a mistake, he knew that. Some tender little part of him still hoped it'd be a fun experience, and another part of him squirmed with glee at being 'used'. Some darker fragment deep within the pits of his body relished it, and begged for more, but the unease and nausea of the situation was worse. He wanted the man to be gentle. He should have hooked up with anyone else. Why did he pick him? Was it the way he charismatically flirted? His dominant personality and the way he just took the charge? Frankly, Grayson was the first person to contact him on the app. He was...charming. Arlo could see now that he was wrong.

"Yeah, that's it, take my fucking cock." The Rottweiler grunted, shoving the lemur down over and over, until the primate's tail curled down and around his leg. Part of him thinks he might have enjoyed it if it was consensual, if he wanted to be face-fucked, but nothing had prepared him for how it'd feel-- the sloppy noises of his throat being used as a hole, the man's grunting and heavy breathing, the spiking, spasming discomfort that settled in his stomach and collected in a clumsy mass that swirled and created panic and unease throughout his entire body, the scent of the man's body intermingled with the heavy, burning sensation of smoke and tabacco...Arlo was feeling overwhelmed. He could barely time his breathing right to not pass out.

Before he knew it, it was all over. The Rottweiler pulled him down one last time and sighed, holding him there. Arlo felt the vivid throbbing of the man's cock in his throat; the way the cock had bent to shove down surged and stiffened enough to bend the muscles of the lemur's throat, making him feel just a little more discomfort than before. He guessed the cum was going straight into his stomach, since he was unable to breathe-- that's what biology class had taught him. The canine was holding him there for too long; he could feel his vision starting to fade, and he started to push with a little more ferocity, trying to pull himself back. Just when he thought he might pass out completely, or worse, the man let go and the lemur flung his head back, the man abruptly withdrawing from him. Arlo gasped for air and violently coughed, covering his mouth with an arm as Grayson simply stood there watching him, pulling another drag on his cigarette before he tucked his spit-covered cock back in.

"Thanks for the nut, kid." Was all the Rottweiler said before he turned, unlocking the bathroom door and stepping out without even an ounce of care for his latest hookup, and he left the lemur sitting there with the door ajar, in plain view of those that could see. Arlo's heart pounded in his ears; was it the shame or the shock that drove him to stand? He wasn't sure, but he somehow pulled himself to his feet and shambled from the bathroom. He didn't care who was looking at him as he moved across the room, and he didn't even look at Grayson as he went. He pushed the door to the bar open and swung his head back, taking in the fresh air as he, just for a moment, stepped to the side and lingered, needing a second to steady himself, emotionally and physically.

This would be a memory he'd bury deep down and forget about, for now. Maybe the app wasn't for him. He made his way down the street, with nothing but lingering regret.