Downtown Driving Depravity

First off I should just blurt out I am bi. It makes the story 25% less shocking.

Ok, so I am at a strip club, getting a dancer's number to make plans for later, and my phone rings. Its a drunk guy wanting me to come downtown to bring his drunk friend home. I tell him it will be about 20 minutes, and I finish up business as best I can, with a "I'll be back in 30 minutes" and I am off down town.

I collect the guy. He's a handsome burly guy that appears to have been coiffed by the fab five. Tank MCnamara meets Carson Kressley. He's in my cab saying how tired he is. I tell him I am tired too, and his would probably be my last call. I did afterall have a potential date with a dancer later. About half-way to his house, he asks for my hand. I expect him to shake it or kiss it, both happen quite a bit in gratitude. But instead I found it encircling his wrist.

But it was not his wrist. I thought to myself, surely his wrist is not this average sized wrist of which I have in my hand, when I realized it was his thick cock in my hand. After a few more exploratory feels, I started moving my hand up and down to his groans. When we pulled up in front of his house, he somehow leapt up front. We started to kiss and I put my hand back down on it. Eventually I went down on him, chokingly. I took breaks explaining I had to go. He challenged me to say I did not want to come in. I agreed I did, but had other commitments I had to live up to. I got him out of the cab, and I drove back to the strip club. It was closed. I called the dancer and she said to call her in the morning when I woke up.

This is where the story comes to a screetching un-interesting hairpin turn. In the parking lot I got a call from another drunk friend that needed a ride for another friend. I went down there, but the FOaF was not wanting to go with me. So I needed up bringing F#1 home instead. By the time I finished with that I knew the first guy would be sound asleep. So I went home. The next morning I called the dancer and got her voicemail. No return call. Later the original friend caller, asked me if he called me the previous night, and he said he remembered nothing but puking in the bar bathroom. I found out later that the Puker had taken the Rider home and then passed out, so the rider came back to the bar, and the puker saw him macking and called me to bring him home. So I did not tell him this story. There may be something between them. I am not sure.