Striking It Up the Hard Way 
                              From The Backroom II 

         There was a time in my life when I enjoyed going to a bowling 
    alley (though admittedly, I was younger and much more foolish then).  
    And even if I never bowled a 300 game, I once found there was more than 
    one way to make a big score at the alleys.  

         One of life's great regrets (at least to me) is that most bowling 
    alleys have mechanized (and now computerized), thus negating the need 
    for the greatest invention of them all: the pinboy.  But I was lucky in 
    this regard; I had found one old alley that still believed in pinboys 
    (and boy, did it BELIEVE).  

         So there I was, one slightly dismal Saturday afternoon, with 
    bowling shoes in hand, heading for my favorite albeit old-fashioned 
    bowling alley.  I had been through an exhausting Friday night; a pair 
    of frolicsome 20-year-olds had found new ways to initiate mathematical 
    possibilities on my body.  Three hot cocks, three waiting asses, and 
    three ready and willing mouths had explored new definitions for 
    Euclidian geometry; in tenth grade, triangles had never seemed as 
    interesting as they had seemed with those hot little fuckers.  One of 
    them, a dark and brooding hunk, had a piece of manhood one could truly 
    envy -- eight inches of thick, pulsating cock which could work wonders 
    in one's mouth, especially when it was thrust all the way in.  When 
    that boy came, you drank gallons; at least I did.  Of course, his 
    tight, hot ass was worth trying, too.  I fucked that boy for all he was 
    worth, thrusting my cock all the way in and out, faster and faster 
    until I shot a load that probably went all the way through him.  A good 
    time was had by both of us.  And while we were doing this, I had his 
    partner's long hardness fucking my mouth, sliding in and out as if it 
    had been born to be sucked.  Each one of those beautiful seven inches 
    tasted delicious; a cocksucker's gourmet delight.  

         But alas, I deviate from my bowling experience (of course, I we 
    all deviate, but that is a different story for a different time).  

         There I was, just ever-so-slightly worn out from night night 
    before with the two hunks.  I was ready to get my energy up with ten 
    full frames, playing with those big, hard balls, so to speak...but 
    again, I deviate.  

         At my favorite bowling alley, there was a particularly striking 
    blond pinboy.  He had an athlete's build, as if he had toned up his 
    body through consistent exercise.  His wide chest was enhanced by his 
    narrow waist, and then rounded out by full hips and a full ass, which 
    he proudly displayed by wearing the tightest possible jeans he could.  
    Of course, when he wore those jeans, he also revealed that he had built 
    up one other piece of his equipment very well.  Frequently, I could see 
    which way his huge cock rested in his pants -- usually to the left (my 
    favorite side).  

         As I came into the alley that day, I saw his standing alone at the 
    back of the alley, obviously on a break before he had to go back to pin 
    duty.  He did have a body one could stare at for hours (and never be 
    bored), so I stood for a few moments myself and watched him sip his 
    coke.  He seemed to enjoy playing with the straw, letting it go in and 
    out of his mouth (as if it were a narrow plastic substitute for 
    something far more interesting).  

         I edged in closer to this blond athlete.  I could see the muscles 
    he used to reset the pins bulging from his arms.  But far more 
    important, I could see that indeed he was sublimating with that straw -
    -his cock had grown inside his pants to impressive proportions (of 
    which he seemed totally unaware).  

         Being in a somewhat unusual mood myself that afternoon, I walked 
    over to him and said flatly, "I have something which I think you'd find 
    much more fun to play with than that straw, and I guarantee what comes 
    out when you suck it tastes better than Coke." 

         He looked up at me, somewhat startled from having been interrupted 
    from his reverie.  Then a broad smile broke on his face.  "Yeah, I 
    think I need something more nourishing than this." Looking down at my 
    crotch, he added, "and I think you may have just what I need to be 
    satisfied." 

         He swiftly led me to a small doorway, which led to a room behind 
    the lanes.  I could hear the other bowlers throwing their balls, and 
    the other pinboys rushing to reset the fallen pins.  We kept walking.  

         Finally, our journey ended in the pinboys' supply room.  There was 
    a low table set up in the middle of the room, upon which my blond 
    wonder sat down.  

         "You know," he quipped, "I've seen you here a lot.  And I think it 
    should be part of this establishment's service to show its regular 
    customers all our features." 

         With that, he began to unbutton his shirt swiftly, revealing a 
    well-developed chest, with just the slightlest wisp of hair sprouting 
    around his big nipples.  I reached out and began to massage those dark 
    glories until they began to grow hard.  Then my hands began to explore 
    the feel of this athletic body; it was firm and hard, but not so firm 
    and not so hard as what I found when I reached inside his jeans.  There 
    waiting for me was a splendid piece of manhood, at least ten inches in 
    length, standing at full attention.  I opened my mouth and began to 
    crouch down, but he stopped me before I could get that incredibly 
    beautiful cock in my mouth.  

         "Wait," he said, "I'd like to taste what you have which you 
    promised is better than Coke." He smiled that irrepressible smile, and 
    I could not resist.  

         His fleet hands quickly stipped me of my garments while I slid his 
    jeans down to his knees.  Finally, we were both standing next to the 
    table, fully erect.  Our cocks touched, and an electric shiver ran 
    through both of us.  

         With his hungry mouth, he began to lick my chest, my nipples, then 
    down to my navel.  His wide hands cupped my ass and I grabbed the back 
    of his head.  He began to lick the tip of my cock, slowly taking it all 
    the way into his mouth, inch by inch, sucking hard on it, making it 
    even stiffer than it was at the mere sight of his body.  His hot mouth 
    contained an active tongue that rolled by cock around.  In and out of 
    his mouth my cock went.  I thrust it hard to the back of his throat, 
    and he seemed to love every second of it.  

         "Take it all in, you beautiful cocksucker," I screamed.  "Show me 
    what kind of man you are." 

         With that, he doubled his efforts, getting me hotter and hotter.  
    I thrust my meat harder into his warm and waiting mouth.  I got 
    perilously close to shooting my hot cum down his throat.  

         Then he stopped.  

         "No," he cried, "I want that hot cock of yours up my ass.  I want 
    you to fuck me hard." 

         I certainly was not going to object to that desire of his, but I 
    was not going to rush off to the main event without sampling some of 
    the preliminaries, either.  

         I lay that big, beautiful blond body down on the low table.  His 
    ten inches stood up, inviting me to take full advantage of their 
    glories.  His full balls -- round and firm, surrounded by a mound of 
    blond pubic hair -- beckoned my mouth, as if to say, 'we want to be 
    sucked, too.' 

         But an odd thought passed through my mind, and I decided to wait 
    before I took full advantage of delights that were mine for the asking.  

         I walked over to a shelf where some spare pins were stored.  
    Grabbing a few of them, an idea came to me.  My blond athletetic pinboy 
    lay prone on the table.  I lifted his legs high in the air.  

         "Oh, that's it, man...fuck me.  Let me have that hot cock of 
    yours." 

         "No," I replied, "I want to see if that ass of yours if ready, 
    first." With that, I thrust one of the pins deep into his ass.  

         He howled in pain...then his pain turned to pleasure.  I could see 
    a big smile break on his face.  His cock, if possible, got even 
    stiffer, more ready for my mouth.  His huge balls tightened.  I thrust 
    the bowling pin into his ass even further.  

         "Oh, man, wow.  That's so good." Well, no one ever said that 
    pinboys had to be particularly articulate.  

         I bent down and took that boy's full ten-inch cock in my mouth.  
    You could feel he was already very close to exploding.  I sucked that 
    hot cock as hard as I could.  He thrust his hips up so that his stiff 
    manhood would reach all the way to the back of my throat.  I felt him 
    ready to cum in my mouth, but I was not necessarily ready for him to do 
    that yet.  

         One last time, I thrust the pin deep within his ass.  He howled 
    again.  

         "I think," I continued, "that your ass is ready now.  We've seen 
    how you react to a piece of wood; now let's see how you do with a stiff 
    cock." 

         I yanked the pin out of his ass, and thrust my cock into it in the 
    pin's place.  His well-developed muscles in his ass (even there -- my 
    goodness, what training!) quickly tightened around my hardness.  

         Slowly at first, I moved back and forth in his cock, carefully 
    maneuvering in and out of his ass.  I grabbed his big balls, fingering 
    them individually, twisting them, turning them, making him yell in pain 
    and pleasure.  

         I increased the rhythm of my thrusts.  Deeper and deeper and 
    probed his ass with my hard cock.  His manhood jerked up and down with 
    each thrust.  

         "I'm gonna cum," he screamed.  Then, without ever touching his 
    cock, it exploded with gobs of white, creamy cum all over his smooth 
    belly.  

         Alas, it was too much for me, too.  I thrust one last time as 
    deeply into his hot ass as I could.  Then I felt hot cum rushing 
    through my prick and into his ass.  I kept cumming and cumming until 
    finally, after many, many spurts, I was spent, too.  

         I must admit that my bowling never did improve that day.  A few 
    weeks later, I returned to the lanes, and I discovered that it too had 
    gone the way of automation.  The pinboys were gone, replaced by 
    decidedly cool electronicized mechanization.  Bowling ceased to be a 
    favorite activity.