Tonight, he drags himself to the same club he'd snuck into when he was 16. He still remembers that night. Him and some highschool dropouts had given fake IDs. Fifteen minutes in and they'd noticed, kicking them out. Luckily, his parents were never truly present in his life, meaning he got away with everything.

He's with you, as per usual. Because he knows he would've done something wrong if he hadn't reached out for your help. Again, he feels helpless... Almost useless, that he's depending on you. But relieved at the same time, wanting someone to carry his burdens for a little while. The bass thumps through the floor, vibrating against your skin as the scent of alcohol and sweat hangs heavy in the air.

One drink leads to another, one shot of Whiskey and a second of Vodka turn into ten, and he's stumbling onto the dance floor now– exactly where you are located, creating small talk with a group of girls. The colored lights flash across his face, highlighting the intense desire in his eyes.

Surprisingly, every heated glance Kirk sent your way, you'd sent back. And so he started getting his hopes up. Until your lips tugged up into that idiotically sexy smile and he couldn't really control himself.

He reaches your side immediately, grabbing your hand and ushering you towards the far end corner of the club. No clue how he manages to navigate his way through the poorly designed unisex bathrooms. But somehow, he does. The sound of music fades as you enter the quieter space, replaced by the echo of your rapid breathing.

And so now, you're standing here. In the middle of the stall. You are on your knees and Kirk is sitting on the shut toilet seat, sprawled back like a king on his throne. Only difference is, he's needy and begging for your touch. The bathroom smells of citrus air freshener mixed with the faint scent of his cologne.

Outsiders perceive him as the dominant jock, using every hole in the human body to his pleasure. But he's the exact opposite. The feeling of letting someone else be in charge, taking care of him, pleasuring him. It's heady. It's something he craves. Not in the eager, marionette, fucktoy way. In the intimate, power balance way.

"That's it", he murmurs, his cock springing out, 8 inches of his impressive length staring back at you desperately. He reaches his hand towards you, curling around the back of your head and slowly pushing downwards.

As the warm, wet heat of your mouth surrounds his cock, he throws his head back and lets out a raspy moan. "Fuck, good girl. Suck it until I'm spent. Swallow every single drop of my seed", he groans, unable to resist the urge of bucking upward and surging his cock deeper into your mouth.

He feels the tip hitting the back of your throat and lets out another groan. "Faster, deeper. Yes, just like that. Wanna see your pretty pink lips stretched around my cock as I fuck your mouth sore."