Date: Sat, 15 Jun 2002 10:31:49 -0700
From: Cox Zucker <cox_zucker@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Gentlemens' Wager (Revised)

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STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The following is a work of fiction that includes
sex between two males. If you're a minor, or if such content offends
you in any way, or if it's illegal to view this material where you
are: Stop reading this now.
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The Gentlemens' Wager

There's a dive bar down the street I enjoy going to on those occasions when
I don't quite feel like going out, but I really don't want to stay home.
It's a homey little place with a red brick facade and a small, painted sign,
the kind of place you wouldn't notice if you didn't already know it was
there. The regulars are a little rough around the edges, but more or less
friendly. The drinks are cheap, and they have two pool tables.

Actually, they barely qualify as pool tables. The fabric is a bit worn and
on the brink of tearing. It's only twenty five cents a game, though, and I
fancy myself a pretty damned good player.

Theoretically, this is one of those proverbial bars where everybody knows
your name, but I don't see a single familiar face tonight. Fortunately
there's a three dollar domestic draft pitcher special going on, and the pool
tables seem to be available. I wasn't intending to drink a hell of a lot,
but since it cost just as much for a bottle as it did for a pitcher I
figured, "What the hell?"

I juggled the pitcher and the plastic cup over to the ledge on the wall
adjacent to the pool table and pulled a quarter from my pocket. As I plunked
the coin into the slot, I looked up to notice a strikingly gorgeous woman
sitting at the bar. When I say striking, I mean it. One of those broads who
definitely would qualify as a perfect ten on most guys scorecards. Her hair
was long and straight, cascading down her face and onto her ample breasts.
She didn't appear to be wearing very much makeup, but her skin was flawless.
She appeared to be watching me, and she flashed a smile in my direction.
That caught me off guard. Don't get me wrong, I consider myself a good
looking guy, and I have no problem collecting phone numbers from hot chicks
at the clubs. I would normally consider myself way out of her league though.
I figured she was just trying to humor me. "Fuckin' cocktease," I thought.

    As I smiled back, I noticed she wasn't alone. She was holding the hand
of the gentleman seated in the barstool next to her. He was a rather rugged
looking guy with his hair cut in a buzz and five o' clock shadow that was a
bit thicker around the goatee and sideburn area. Although he was sitting,
and he was nearly ten feet away, I could tell he was at least a good four
inches taller than I. He also appeared rather muscular. "Odd," I was
thinking, "They're a good looking couple." This place usually doesn't
attract  the model-slash-actor crowd you'd normally see in the clubs in
Hollywood. "They must be lost."

    I started to rack the table, and, even though she obviously had a
boyfriend, I could barely take my eyes of this woman. Not only was she
already spoken for, I knew the guy she was with could kick my ass six times
over if he caught me. I still stared, it was like some uncontrollable
impulse. I at least tried to be discrete about it, pretending I wasn't
looking at her, I was looking at someone or something behind her or in her
direction.

    She wasn't dumb though. She caught me checking her out a few times, and
eventually it cracked her up. Her boyfriend turned toward her. You didn't
have to be a fluent lip reader to see his lips mouth the words, "What's so
funny?" but I couldn't quite tell what exactly her response was. She turned
her face and cupped her mouth to his ear, then turned back to me and smiled
again. As soon as she did that, he turned to me as well. I rubbernecked
away, trying to pretend that I was never paying them any mind in a desperate
attempt to save face. I could still see both of them from the corner of my
eye, and knew he wasn't buying it. His stare was angry at first, as though
he were ready to snap, but his grimmace soon turned into a smile.

I grabbed my pitcher to freshen my drink. If I'm going to get my face
punched in, I'd like to be buzzed when it happens, and the beer ought to be
at least relatively cold. I was no longer looking in their direction. I was
pretending I had a bum cue stick and was attempting to select a better one.
Although I was no longer facing them, I could feel his presence as he stood
from the bar and began walking in my direction. I grabbed a stick and turned
around.

He stood before me, and he was even larger than I initially thought. He had
a shot glass in each hand.

 "Hey buddy," he said as he juggled one of the shots into his huge left hand
and extended his right out to shake mine, "Name's Scott!" His voice boomed
and echoed through me, his grip was intense.

 "James," I gulped, hoping his casual friendliness wasn't merely the calm
before the impending storm.

 "My girlfriend pointed out to me that you seemed to have this table all to
yourself," he replied, "and I was wonderin' whether or not you'd mind if I
get a game in with ya."

 What he heard me say was, "Sure! Just let me knock these last few balls in.
I need all the practice I can get!" in my mind I was saying, "You gotta be
shitting me! He's really not coming over to knock the piss out of me?!"

 "Cool deal, dude!" he replied. He placed one of the shots on the counter
next to my pitcher and pushed the other shot to me and in the best pirate
voice he could muster added, "Here's mud in yer eye!"

 I thanked him as I retrieved the glass from his fingers. I waited for him
to lift his shot again, and he counted it off: "One, two, three!" We sucked
down the liquid and slammed the shot glasses to the counter simulaneously.

 "Damn," I thought, "tequila!" I could feel it instantly knock the wind out
of me. Don't get me wrong, I can drink with the best of them, but normally I
need to mentally prepare myself for liquor of that caliber.

 I had five balls left on the table, and I did my best to knock them in as
soon as I could so Scott and I could get our game started. While I did, we
shot the shit together with some basic guy talk, fueled by the television
monitor above us which was airing a recap of the recent NBA playoff games
that had been going on. All it took was for me to say, "Lakers fuckin'
rule!" to inspire Scott to buy another round of shots.

 We did these shots together and the conversation mellowed for a moment.The
six ball was perfectly lined up to enter the corner pocket and I prepped
myself to take the easy shot.

 "What do you think of Melissa," Scott said, and the stick slid through my
fingers without even so much as grazing the cue ball. "She's cute, ain't
she?"

 "Umm, yeah sure," I squeaked meekily, "she seems nice." Here I am acting as
though I'd barely noticed her, " How long have you guys been seein' each
other?"

 "Comin' up on one year in less than two weeks," he boasted. "I usually
can't stay with a bitch longer than two weeks, but she and I got somethin'
real special." Although his words carried some crass sexual bravado, his
voice lilted to expose his sensitive side. This guy was clearly smitten.

 "Congrats!" I offered, but quite frankly, I was jealous as hell.

 "She thinks you're pretty cute," he abruptly said.

 "Oh yeah?" I nervously gulped and turned to see Melissa was still staring
and smiling.

 My ego soared as I again aimed the cue for my easy shot. Sinking the six
ball was the only way I could think of to savor this moment. "Yup," he added
matter-of-factly, "Actually, so do I!"

 With that, the cue ball whacked the six off the embankment without entering
a pocket, and the cue ball winded up scratching.

 He chuckled at my embarrassing miss. "Sorry dude, didn't mean to freak ya
out!" he said. "I don't usually come on to guys in places like this, but
we've been talkin' and you struck me as the kinda guy who'd be cool with
shit like that."

 I was still a bit rattled, but I tried to compose myself. "No, it's cool,"
I responded, "I have a couple gay friends."

 Actually, that was a half-truth. There's Matthew, a guy I know from work.
He seems like an okay guy, I get along with him but I wouldn't go so far as
to say we have a friendly relationship outside of the office. Matt's fairly
slight and effeminate, so I'd kind of prided myself on being able to spot a
queer based on the stereotype. Scott certainly proved me wrong tonight.

 "So," I prodded with curiosity, "Your girlfriend don't mind that you...?" I
couldn't even finish the sentence. I didnt' know how to finish that
sentence.

 "Go both ways?" he politely finished it for me. "Nah," he confidently
answered, "Why should she? She does to!"

 My ears perked up with that, so I had to grab another stare at Melissa.
This time I was imagining some of the hot girl on girl action Scott must get
on a regular basis! The jealously was boiling over at this point.

 "She gets to have her fun on the side; I get to have my fun on the side,"
he boasted, "and we occasionally get to have our little three ways together
when we meet someone we can agree on. It's the perfect gig if ya can get it!
That's probably one of the reasons we've lasted as long as we have!"

 "Well," I dumbfoundedly added, "Best of both worlds, I guess."

 "Damn right!" he exclaimed. "Actually, we were hopin' we could invite you
to be the new meat in one of our juicy little fuck-sandwiches." He laughed
at his own comment. For a brief moment, I actually contemplated doin' it
with this guy just so I could be with his hot piece-of-ass girlfriend. "You
have an extremely fuckable ass," he added, and the fleeting moment of sexual
curiosity and exploration vanished.

 "Sorry dude," I shook my head, "Thanks, but no thanks. That ain't my
scene." I have to admit that under normal circumstances, that comment
would've totally freaked me out. However, I realized it was this very
admission that saved me from getting my ass kicked at this point.

 "Too bad. It's been awhile since I got to break in a nice tight virgin," he
winked with a devilish grin. "You sure?"

 I gave him a nod as I swiftly smacked the eight ball into the side pocket.
"So this game'll be the only playin' we'll be doin' with each other
tonight."

 "Suit yourself," he said disappointedly. He pulled out a quarter from his
pocket. "Rack or break?"

 I told him, "Man, I suck at breakin' so I'll give you the honors."

 "Hey," he offered, "if you suck, I will be honored!"

 "Heh heh! Nice try, smart guy!" I laughed nervously at his pun, "Just pick
a stick, will ya?"

 That comment made him shoot me a look and a sneer. I quickly realized I'd
left myself wide open for another smart ass joke. "I'll let that one go," he
relented, and allowed me to rack the table in peace. "Let's just say you owe
me one, bud."

 "Fair enough," I offered, and lifted the wooden triangle from the table to
reveal a finely packed racking.

 "Feelin' lucky?" he asked. "How about we place some bets on the game?"

 I responded "Dude, no way! I came to this dump 'cos I'm fuckin' broke.
Besides," I pointed to the sign on the wall, reading it aloud, " 'Pool
Tables Reserved For Entertainment Purposes Only. Wagering Strictly
Prohibited!' "

 "Eh, that?" he asked, "That's about gamblin' for money! There's no law
against a little gentlemens' wager."

 I knew exactly where he was going with this conversation, but for some
reason I played along anyway.

 "What did you have in mind?" I asked, potentially sealing my own fate at
this moment without realizing it. He gave me his devilish grin again without
saying a word. "Oh, no!" I protested. "I told ya, that ain't my scene!"

 "You're curious. I can tell," he insisted. "Take another good look at my
gal over there."

 I turned to Melissa and watched as she uncrossed her legs to switch and
cross the other way as though she were acting out that scene from Basic
Instinct.

 "If you win," he told me as I stared at her, "Melissa gets to suck your
cock!" I'm guessing they've worked on this script for awhile now, because as
he said that Melissa twirled her finger through the head on the draft beer
in her glass She pushed it to her lips and sucked it off.

 "And if I lose?" I asked, my cock twitching in my jockeys as I imagined
those lips working me.

 "You lose, you get to suck my cock!" he said proudly, as if to assure me
that losing wouldn't be an unpleasant experience for either one of us.
"Think about it."

 I was thinking about it. Really thinking about it. I had a raging boner in
my pants, and quite frankly I wasn't able to conceal it. It didn't take long
for Scott to notice it. He laughed.

 "Looks like we got ourselves a bet, buddy!" he said as he extended his hand
to shake on it.

 "Fuck it!" I said as I placed my hand in his, "You're on!" I noticed his
handshake was much firmer than it was during our initial introduction. He
pulled my entire body forward with his one arm as though he were trying to
let me know that there was no backing out if I were to lose. His cocky
attitude and the danger of the situation sent another rush through my cock.
I had every intention of playing this game to win, but found myself slowly
being seduced by the possibilty of losing.

 He released his grip on my hand and swung the pool stick into a confident
aiming position. With a crack, the cue ball struck the one. The balls raced
around the table, two solid balls were sunk on the break.

 "Looks like you're stripes, cocksucker!" he said with a sneer. I felt my
own prick jump once more.

 He called his shot and swiftly moved into an aiming position. Whack! The
ball he was aiming for easily entered the corner pocket. "Holy shit," I
thought, "I've been hustled... both figuratively and literally!" Again he
moved into position and knocked two more solids into the side pocket. He
paused to look at me. I stood there motionless, staring at the table.

 "Your shot," he said, "I accidentally grazed your ball on that one." He
kept a straight face, but we both knew damned well he was obviously lying. I
was grateful he was giving me a fighting chance.

 I examined the table like a surgeon, searching and plotting for the best
shot. It seemed hopeless. Nothing was open, Scott was blocking all my good
shots. "Take your time, cocksucker! The longer you stall," he barked in a
needless attempt to break my concentration, "the longer you get to blow me!"
His taunts sent chills down my spine.

 I spotted a tricky bank shot and made my call. Stepping in front of him, I
bent over the table to reach the cue. I knew for sure he was going to be
checking out my ass, so I was prepared for his comment. "Damn! Next time we
get one of these games goin' together, we'll hafta place the wager for
that!"

 "You wish!" I shot back. I snapped the cue stick forward and sent the white
ball twirling for the eleven. Even I was surprised when it bounced off the
wall and then back into the pocket.

 "Well ain't you lucky?" Scott asked me.

 "That's not luck," I lied, "That's skill." Fortunately, this lucky shot had
set me up for an easy one. "Fourteen in the side," I called out just before
I popped it in with a quick tap.

 "Cocksucker's getting pretty confident, is he?" he continued with his
taunts.

 Actually I wasn't getting confident at all. Although that last shot was a
simple one, the cue ball riccocheted and knocked almost all of Scott's
solids into perfect alignment with the cups. Again, there was no smooth
sailing on any of my shots. I made an attempt on the twelve and failed
miserably.

 Scott was pleased. "You're trying to lose, ain't ya?" He smiled down at the
table as he spied his remaining three solids placed teetering along the
pockets. "I'll try to make this as quick and painless as possible for ya."

 He easily made this shots without breaking a sweat. He was down to the
eight ball, and I still had five balls on the table. In what may be my last
hope, I seem to be blocking any apparent shots that'd otherwise be available
to him.

 "I think you may've gotten a stay of execution on this one," trying to
reassure me, but it was cold comfort. "Off the bank to the corner," he
called as he slapped the pocket with his fingers. He whacked the eight ball
and sent it toward the hole. The angle was off slightly and it hit the rim.
"There ya go, cocksucker. Let's see what you got!"

 I turned to get another look at Melissa in hopes of getting some final
stretch inspiration, but I saw that she was no longer even paying any
attention to us. I felt my heart in my throat and a chill down my spine.

 "Dude," Scott shouted as he grabbed his crotch, "Your date is right here,
tonight! Take the shot, cocksucker!"

 By this time, as hard as I tried to fight it, his taunts were seriously
beginning to turn me on. I wasn't about to throw in the towel just yet,
though. I may've had five stripes left, but the table was wide open now.

 My luck began to come back to me, as I managed to handily sink the ten,
twelve, and thirteen. But the nine and fifteen still remained. They were
practically on top of one another, and the single clean shot I had was
blocked by the eight.

 I tried to stall. "Fuck, Scott! I gotta get another beer... help me take
some of the edge off"

 "Oh no! You're cut off." he interjected, "I want you good and sober. We're
both gonna let our buzzes clear up, 'cos I want us to both me fully
cognizant tonight!" He saw that this left me rather unsettled, so he added
insult to injury, "You're more than welcome to knock the eight ball in, but
quite frankly, I'd rather you let me do that myself. Y'know, to teach you a
lesson." Again, he managed to amuse himself a great deal.

 I called the corner pocket, hoping I could make my way past the eight
unscathed. I took the shot. Almost, but no cigar; I managed to hit it in
just the right direction, but without the impact I needed. The ball rested
on the rim. I consoled myself with the fact that this position made his win
a tad more difficult.

 "You think you're smart, huh?" he said cockily. He leaned backward on the
table positioning the stick behind him. "Corner pocket, cocksucker!" With a
tap, the cue ball hit the eight with an intense precision that knocked it
securely into the hole. He didn't even watch it go in, he just smiled at me
the whole time waiting for my expression to tell him the inevitable.

 He moved over to me and placed his large hands on my face, squeezing my
chin. "Look at that, cocksucker. Ya got two balls on the table for two balls
on your chin! You ready?!"

 I tried to stall yet again, "Don't you need to tell your girlfriend where
you're goin'?"

 "Ha! Are you kiddin' me?" he replied, "I kissed her goodnight before I
bought you that first shot! She ain't fuckin' dumb, kid, she knows exactly
where we're goin'. This is why we came in seperate cars. C'mon, let's bail!"
With that, he grabbed my shoulder and led me toward the back exit.

 I felt as though everyone in the bar was staring at me as we made our way
toward the door. The door swung open as we made our way outside and I
noticed a small contingent of people outside smoking cigarettes.

 "Yo, Scott!" a large scruffy guy in a dirty white wife-beater tank called
out, "You takin' off already? Looks like you bagged one early tonight!" He
laughed and continued, "Shit, I thought all these faggots already knew not
to play pool against you!" He continued laughing and was joined in his
laughter by two of the other rough looking guys you were smoking with him.

 I felt the pit of my stomach rise up into my throat. "Fuck," I thought,
"Did I have 'easy target' tattooed on my head? Does everyone in that bar
know what just happened to me, and that I was leaving to give this guy
head?!" I felt utterly humiliated. It was mortifying. "What have I gotten
myself into?"

 "You know me!" replied Scott, "I'm good at spottin' the newbies!"

 "Well," his friend added, "be gentle with her." He and the group got
another chuckle at my expense. As Scott pulled me toward his car, I could
actually make out part of their conversation and heard the large guy fill
the others in on what had happened and what was about to happen to me. I had
never felt so degraded in my life. But my prick seemed to have a mind of its
own, as I felt it twitch and stir in my shorts. "What the hell is happening
to me?" I thought.

 We reached his car, a dark navy blue, late 80s model Monte Carlo Super
Sport that look like it'd been recently detailed. He nudged me over to the
passenger said and said, "Okay cocksucker, get in."

 "Dude," I protested, "I don't know about this..."

 "Shut the fuck up, cocksucker! What's not to know?" barked Scott, "You lost
the game and you're gonna blow me. End of story. Now get in the fucking
car!" With that, he opened the door and shoved me inside. When I was fully
in the car, he slammed the door shut and quickly sidled over to the driver's
side and got in.

 "Alright," I mumbled concedingly, staring down at my stomach. He shoved the
key into the ignition and revved up the engine. "You're right, you win.
Let's just get this over with."

 "Let's get one thing straight, cocksucker!" he shouted threateningly
pointing his finger at my face, "Look at me when I'm talkin' to you! I just
won a blow job and that's exactly what I want: a real, long, slow,
golf-ball-through-a-garden-hose marathon suck!" His description sent my own
cock stirring. "I don't want some quickie five dollar slurp that I can get
from some Silverlake slut. I expect the real deal, and I expect you to
deliver it. Do I make myself clear?!"

 "Are you fuckin' kiddin' me?" I pleaded.

 "Don't fuckin' sass me you little bitch!" He grabbed my arm tightly and
gave it a twist while he shoved the index finger of his oversized hand in my
face, "The only lip I expect from you is gonna be below my waist. I said,
'Do I make myself clear?!'" His force sent a chill through me.

 I felt totally and utterly defeated. "Yeah, I guess."

 "And from now on, cocksucker, whenever I mention how you're gonna eat my
dick," he continued ordering, "the only response I wanna hear out of you is
an enthusiastic, 'Mmmmmm, I can't wait!' Let me hear you say that."

 I felt so degraded. I was beginning to think that he didn't even remember
my name anymore, because 'cocksucker' had been the only title he was
referring to me as for quite awhile now. "Mmmmm," I muttered, "I can't
wait."

 "C'mon, cocksucker, you can do better than that," he insisted.

 "Mmmmm," I said a bit louder and with all the enthusiasm I could muster at
that moment, "I can't wait!"

 "Well," he shrugged, "that'll do for now." He pressed his foot down on the
gas and the car headed off toward the freeway.

 As the car rolled along, his demeanor changed. He turned back into the
casual, mellow guy he was when we initially were shooting the shit back at
the bar. We had a few laid back conversations about everything and nothing,
talking as if we were good friends who'd known each other forever, and I
slowly felt myself relaxing a bit. Well, as much as I could, anyway. I was
still anxious and nervous and scared. It helped to take my mind off of the
long night that I dreaded was about to follow, so it allowed me to keep my
calm as I chatted with him. I couldn't forget that I was going to be giving
this guy head, though, and as we talked I could feel my eyes wander down
toward his crotch. For the first time, I recognized just how huge the bulge
in his jeans was. I wasn't sure exactly how big his dick was, but I could
tell it had to certainly be larger than my modest six and three quarter
incher. (Yes, I have measured it).

 I was now uncontrollably staring at Scott's crotch, watching it shift and
move as his legs shifted to use the gas and brake pedals. I felt beads of
sweat roll across my brow, and I gulped nervously with anticipation. It
didn't take Scott long to notice and he broke our conversation in
mid-sentence.

 "Looks like my cocksucker's getting hungry!" I couldn't believe how quickly
he could switch back into 'jerk-mode.' "Don't worry, we'll be at my place
soon enough. You must be dyin' to chow down on your first prick, ain't ya?!"
he asked.

 "Uh, um, I was just---" I started to say.

 "What?!" he demanded.

 "Oh," I remembered, "Mmmmm, I can't wait!" I replied with the enthusiasm he
insisted upon earlier.

 He was pleased. "Good boy!" he commended, "You're gettin' better!" He was
talking to me like I was a dog and he was my master.

 Although I felt completely degraded, there was a part of me that was
pleased with myself for making my 'master' happy. "What the hell is
happening to me?" I thougth to myself again. Then it suddenly dawned on me
that we had been driving for quite awhile, twenty five minutes to be exact.
"Dude!" I asked, "How am I gonna get back home?"

 "Relax," he consoled me, "Just worry about keepin' those juicy lips of
yours wet, and I'll worry about drvin' you home tomorrow morning. As long as
you take care of me with a nice blow job, I'll take care of you with a
ride." He chuckled to himself, and then stared at me to await my response. I
paused and stared back for a few seconds until I realized what he was
waiting to hear.

 "Mmmmm," I said, "I can't wait!"

 We continued on for another ten minutes before he pulled off the freeway.
He swerved the vehicle into a gas station near the off-ramp and parked the
car in front. "I'm gonna go in and get a soda, cocksucker, you want
anything?"

 "No thanks," I replied meekly, even though I was thirsty as fuck.

 "How 'bout a Coke?" he insisted.

 "Diet Pepsi," I admitted, caving into my desperate thirst.

 "Alright, cool. I'll be right back!" He began to turn and close the door
behind him, but then quickly swung back around and shoved his finger back
into my face, "Stay in the car, cocksucker!" he shouted, "If I see you step
one foot out of this car, so help you. Cos I'll catch ya, and when I do, I'm
gonna fuck you!" He continued his relentless verbal assault. "I'll fuck your
ass, and it's not gonna be one of those tender, sweet,
'it's-my-first-time-be-gentle-with-me' makin' love kinda fucks, I'll pound
your ass like a goddamned hammer! I'll have you beggin' to suck me off!"

 "Yes sir," I meekly offered back. "Who is he kidding?" I thought, "I'm not
goin' anywhere." I was stuck in the middle of nowhere outside Long Beach.
Its well past midnight. I had about twelve bucks in my pocket, certainly not
enough to get me back to the valley at this. Not only was I reserved to the
idea of sucking Scott's dick, I was determined to give him the best grade-A
blow job I could muster from the pit of my soul, if only to keep him from
flying off the handle at me again. I was totally under his control, and he
knew it.

 He returned from the gas station snack shop with two twelve ounce soda
bottles in hand, one Diet Pepsi, one Mountain Dew. "This'll get the juices
flowin' in your mouth," he promised, "and caffeine," he added, "gets me
pumped to fuck some serious face." He looked over toward me to get the
response he'd ordered me to give. By this time, I'd realized how silly I'd
sounded repeating this phrase over and over again and it almost struck me as
kind of funny.

 "Mmmmm, I can't wait!" This time I think I actually cracked a genuine
smile.

 "That's a good cocksucker," Scott complimented me as he patted me on my
head and ran his fingers through my hair. He hit the gas and we were off
once more. He drove about six or seven more blocks until he parked the car
for the last time that night. "Okay, kid, we're here. It's the moment we've
all been waiting for!" he announced proudly.

 We entered Scott's apartment and he flipped on a dim light. I passed and
turned to face by him as he closed the door behind us. I watched as he
peeled off his t-shirt to reveal is muscled upper torso which was completely
covered in a light dusting of dark brown hair. He wasn't what you would call
'cut,' he was obviously firm; no six pack of abs, but his stomach was trim
and solid. We moved past me to the couch and started to peel off his
sneakers and socks. "Take off your clothes, dude," he softly instructed,
"and get comfertable." He took another big swig from his soda and I did the
same as I complied with his request.

 I was stripped down to my boxer shorts, while he still wore his jeans as he
stood in front of me and placed his hands on my shoulders. "Get down on your
knees," he continued to instruct me and I did so willingly. "Unbuckle my
pants... slowly." I reached up and grabbed the button on his jeans and
slowly tugged the zipper downward. I then slid the denim down his hairy legs
as he lifted his legs one at a time to free himself from them. He kicked the
bundle aside. He was now standing in front of me in his white jockey shorts.
I could see the outline of his cock clearly through them from my position.

 He reached out, grabbed the back of my head, and pulled my face into his
basket. My nose and lips were pressed against the cotton of his briefs. I
could feel his cock and balls through the fabric, and for the first time I
got a strong whiff of his musky, masculine scent. The sweat from his crotch
filled my nostrils. "I want you to get used to the feeling of being down
there," he told me, assuring me, "You look good in that position. You have
such nice juicy lips, it would've been such a waste if you went through your
whole life without usin' them to suck on a nice fat cock." His words swum
and spun through my head, I felt dizzy. He had me completely under his
spell, and I had a raging boner in my boxers now.

 "Like I told you earlier," he continued, "I want you to suck me nice and
slow. You sure you never did this before?"

 "No," I whimpered.

 He again spoke in a soft assuring voice, "Well, let me just let you know
that you're not going to be able to get it all in your mouth at first. But I
want you to go down on it slowly as much as you can. You'll get more and
more of it in each time as you get used to it," he insisted. "You jaw will
eventually start to get tired. If you feel like you need to give your jaw a
rest, you can take your mouth off my dick, but you'll still need to use your
tongue on me." He wasn't joking when he said that I was going to suck him
the way he wanted to be sucked. He was going to give me thoroughly detailed
instructions. "The first suck break you get, you'll have to lick and suck on
my balls. I have a good load churnin' inside those waiting for you, and
you'll have ten minutes to get 'em all worked up before I shove you back on
my cock."

 I was entrenched within the reality of my situation. "When your jaw gets
tired the second time, and trust me it will, you have a second suck break to
work on my nuts again. But this time I want you to get under my ball sac and
lick that spot right between my balls and ass. That spot really gets me
hot," he told me, "and I'm gonna need ya to really get in there with your
lips and tongue. I want you to nibble on it too." I felt the nervous lump in
my throat quiver. "After ten minutes of that, you can expect a good face
fucking!" His description of what was about to unfold seemed to be taking
longer than what I thought the entire duration of the ordeal was going to
be.

 "If your jaw gets tired a third time," he said, "then this'll be your task
to send me over the edge. That's when it's ass-eatin' time!" His voice
bounced and beamed with joy as he suggested this. "When you work my crack
and hole with your tongue, I'll be sure to squirt a nice wad of cum all over
your tongue!"

 "Hey, you never said anything about licking your ass," I whined. "You just
said I'd hafta suck your dick!" I was afraid to speak up, especially while
down on my knees in front of him, fearing that 'Dr. Jeckyl' would once again
be replaced with that 'Mr. Hyde' that terrified me so much. Instead, he just
laughed.

 "Suit yourself," he replied, "but nothin' makes me want to cum more than
gettin' a good rimming. Believe me, I can hold out a lot longer than you
can, cocksucker. Havin' your wet tongue in my hole will mean the difference
between a two hour blow job and a four hour blow job!" He stared down at me
intensely. "Think about it!"

 I couldn't think about anything else. I was at his mercy. "You ready to be
fed?" he asked. "Pull off my shorts."

 I reached up for the elastic waistband of his jockys and pulled them down.
His fat, eight and a half inch circumsized prick sprung from its hiding
spot, slapped his belly, and fell back down pointing me directly in between
the eyes. "Open your mouth," he said, and I did.

 His hard prick was already beginning to ooze pre-cum as it slid against my
lips and across my tongue. I got my first taste of him, wrapping my mouth
around it as he slowly pistoned himself into my face. He managed to insert
about three quarters of it inside, and kept up a slow, methodical grind in
and out of my mouth as he held my head in place. I reached my hands up and
grabbed his hips to keep my balance.

 "Swirl your tongue around while you suck," he instructed. "Yeah,
cocksucker, you're gettin' the hang of it," he told me, "You're a natural at
this. Ya sure you never sucked a guy off before?"

 I tried to reply, but was able to only let out muffled grunts. Some saliva
ran out of the corner of my lips and down his ball sack. His reassuring
words send a rush through my own cock, leaving me hard as a rock.

 "Look up at my face while ya suck me," he insisted, "I want ya to watch the
expression on my face. If ya see that what you're doin' makes me feel good,
you'll know to keep doin' that."

 I looked up at him. He gave me a big smile, followed by a cocky sneer
celebrating his victory over me. "Yeah, bitch, eat that cock!" He tugged on
the hair in back of my head and thrusted his prick deeper into my throat,
causing me to gag a little. "Choke on that fuckin' cock!" he demanded. "You
like that?"

 I let out a few more hopelessly muffled grunts and he stopped his
pistoning, just holding his prick still and enjoying my mouth. "That feels
so good," he assured me, "like your mouth was made for my cock! I knew you'd
be a good cocksucker!"

 We continued for what seemed like forever, mostly slow pumping action with
occasional turns of rapid thrusting. Within around twenty mintues, I
realized he was right earlier. I could feel my jaw growing tired and numb. I
tried to continue sucking him, but my mouth was growing dry and I felt I
needed to grab my breath. He sensed it immediately.

 "Feels like you're just about ready to take your first 'break,'" he said,
"What say you get to work on my sac? You ready to have a mans balls in your
mouth?" asking without really caring what my answer would be. His prick left
my mouth with a sucking pop noise as he sat back onto the sofa. He leaned
backward onto the armrest and lifted his leg over the head of the couch. He
patted his hand on the cushion at his crotch and ordered me, "Get over
here!"

 I took a swig from the half empty bottle of Diet Pepsi still left on the
coffee table and stooped to my knees. I looked back up into his eyes again
as I lowered my head back into his crotch. "Good boy," he told me.

 I lapped my tongue across his balls. I did my best to enact how I'd imagine
I'd like to have my own balls licked. This obviously pleased him a great
deal as he let out a long, slow, low-pitched moan. "Mmmmm, yeah! Suck them
into your mouth!" he instructed. I sucked his left nut into my mouth and
rolled my tongue around. He gave the back of my head another intense squeeze
and pulled my head deep into his crotch, holding me there. As he released
me, I pushed his right nut out of my mouth and replaced it with the left. I
accidently grazed his scrotum slightly with my teeth. "Fuck yeah!" he
shouted, "Nibble my sac! Goddamn, cocksucker, that feels nice!"

 He continued slowly working his cock with his left fist while he caressed
my hair with his right. I worked my tongue up the center of his balls to the
base of his cock and let it come back down again. "How does it feel to have
a real mans balls in your mouth?" he asked me. I was unable to speak.
Although I was utterly disgusted by my situation, I couldn't deny the part
of me that was perversely, intensely aroused by the authority he had over
me. "I knew you'd love it, you little fuckin' whore!" he shouted, and pulled
my head into his crotch again. He then draped his leg over my shoulder and
began massaging the small of my back with the heel of his bare foot.

 After a while of this, I sensed that the moisture from my saliva on his
dick was beginning to dry. Stroking it with his hand was obviously becomming
less comfertable, and I knew well that my 'break' was nearing an end. He
grabbed my hair and pulled my head back from his balls, "Time to get back to
work on my cock, cocksucker," he ordered, and slapped my face with his
prick. My lips parted, and he once again entered my unwilling mouth.

 This time he was no longer pistoning his hips to fuck my face, he just lied
there on the sofa guiding my face up and down with his forceful grip on the
back of my head. He was forcing me to suck him a little faster now, and his
cock was going deeper into my throat. I tried my best to control my gag
reflex, but I couldn't help but to let out a few choking sounds. That only
seemed to egg him on. It was as though every time I gagged, it encouraged
him to pull me down even further into his lap, the brush of his tuft of
pubic hair continuously rubbing the tip of my nose, the head of his cock
stabbing my tonsils.

 He was moaning louder now, "Ooh, yeah, that's it! Oh, c'mon, work that
dick! You know you want it!" he insisted. The more he told me that, the more
my own cock would betray me with its throbbing.

 Unfortunately his faster paced assault on my throat was causing my jaw to
tire even sooner, leaving me desperate to take my second 'break,' but stil
dreading my inevitable third 'break.'  I pulled his prick from my mouth and
looked up at his face. He responded by spreading his legs farther apart and
lifting his nutsack with his fingers. He ordered, "Go to town on me,
cocksucker!"

 I lapped at the skin under his balls. I was overtaken by the musky aroma of
his sweat. I could feel his flesh dripping wet with my saliva as I pushed
myself inward to nibble, suck, kiss, and lick him. I worked my tongue back
up to his balls to briefly move away from his ass and he pushed me back into
his crotch pit. His legs quivered and rocked, he moaned in sheer ecstacy. He
pulled me into him deeply causing me to bite down on his flesh. "Yeah!" he
shouted, "Chew on me, cocksucker! That's fuckin' hot!" With each nibble and
lick he'd reassure me with his yells and moans.

 He soon let me know it was time to get back to work on his cock. He pushed
me out of his crotch, grabbed one of the cushions from the couch, and threw
it down onto the floor. He pointed toward it ordering me down. "Okay,
cocksucker, lie on your back," he told me.

 I layed myself on the floor with my head on the cushion. Moving over to me,
he stood over me one leg on each side of me, stroking his dick above my
head. He then lowered himself down pinning me to the ground and pushed his
cock up to my face.

 "Open up!" he said, and procededed to ferociously fuck my face. All I could
hear was the sound of his balls slapping against my chin against the
backdrop of his rhythmic grunting and groaning. "Yeah, that's it!" he
shouted as he shoved his cock deep into my mouth and held himself there, "I
own you now, cocksucker!" He kept still for a moment, enjoying my mouth. I
looked up at him, helplessly. Just then, I heard the jangling of keys as the
door creaked open.

 "You boys are still at it?" said a detached female voice. Although I
couldn't see anything more than Scott's bush and belly, I knew it was
Melissa returning home from the bar. "I thought you might be done by now."

 "Nope," answered Scott, "not yet. This cocksuckers got a great mouth, I
wanted to give it a nice work out."

 "Cool!" she replied, "that's hot!"

 I was really beginning to resent her. "She's the reason I'm down here," I
thought, "Fuckin' bitch!"

 "Did he eat your ass yet?" she asked. As their conversation carried on, I
could feel Scott's prick slowly grow limp against my tongue.

 "No," he said, "not yet. We're workin' on that." He ran his fingers through
my hair and added, "Pretty soon."

 "I'd love to watch," she said enthusiastically.

 "No!" she shouted, "Get the fuck out of here!" I tried to speak, but was
still muffled by Scott's now limp dick. "Shut the fuck up, cocksucker! You
had your chance to be with both of us and you fucked it up! No pussy for you
tonight, faggot!"

 "Fair is fair," Melissa responded, "I guess I'll leave you two. Be back in
a bit!" I heard the door open and close once again.

 Scott returned his attention back to me. "Now where were we?" he asked as
he pulled his soft prick out of my mouth. "Awww," he said with a sarcastic
tone, "It looks like we're gonna hafta start all over from the beginning!"

 He pushed his cock back into my mouth and I instinctively worked him with
my mouth as fast as I could, swirling my tongue and rotating my head. I
quickly felt him get hard in my mouth. I was determined to end this ordeal
at all costs.

 "Damn, cocksucker!" he said, "You're workin' it like a pro, now! I'm
impressed!" He just knealt above me and let me do all the work. I twirled my
tongue down to the base of his shaft and back his thick mushroom head. I
encircled my lips around his head and darted my tongue into his slit. I did
everything I could think of to bring him to the edge and finish him off.

 "Alright, cocksucker, you really want me to shoot that load, don't you?" he
boasted proudly, "Well, you and I both know damn well what you're gonna
hafta do to be rewarded with that, don't we?"

 I felt my heart in my throat and then sink down into the pit of my stomach.
I had tried everything in my power to avoid licking this guy's butthole, but
I now knew I had no other choice as he lifted himself off his knees to his
feet turning himself around. He lowered himself down and his hairy ass
cheeks were mere inches from my face. "Give my ass a little kiss," he cooed.
I pushed my face forward with my lips pursed and gave his right cheek a wet
smooch. He laughed.

 I felt so cheap and used. My cock apparently felt otherwise however, since
I was now harder than I'd been all night. "Oh," Scott said, "You like my
ass, huh?" He moved his ass downward, "Stick out your tongue and work my
hole."

 I pulled his cheeks apart with my tongue and started probing his furry
asshole. I was drowning in a sea of sweat, hair, and saliva.

 "Stroke yourself off while you eat me," he ordered, "I want you to cum
while your tongue is in my ass!"

 He squatted on me harder, forcing my tongue deeping inside him. "Oh, fuck
yeah!" he shouted, "That's it! Eat my ass!" He squirmed and moaned as I
shoved my tongue inside him, jerking on my own cock incessantly. He moaned
loudly and wiggled his butt back and forth above me. I was filled with
embarrassment when Scott shouted, "Yeah, cocksucker, I'm gonna feed you a
nice load of cum tonight!" This caused my dick to spasm and spurt with a
gush of ejaculate.

 "Fuck yeah!" he shouted with approval, "I knew you wanted my cum." He
quickly turned himself around and shoved his prick into my mouth to fuck my
face once again. "I knew you were a natural cocksucker the second I laid
eyes on you!" he barked as he fucked his prick into my throat. "This is what
you want! Take it! Take it!" He pulled his cock out of my mouth so that the
shaft was outside and the head was firmly planted inside my lips. His hips
bucked once, then twice, and I then felt him erupt with gob after gob of
salty, creamy jism directly onto my tongue. I thought it would never end.

 As his orgasm finally subsided, he shoved his dick back into my mouth,
pushing his cum around my tongue and back into my throat. "Yeah," he
whispered, "taste that cum. Swallow every drop!" He fucked my mouth slowly
with his softening dick as I sucked and swallowed his load off of it.

 When his dick became fully limp, he pulled it from my lips and stood up. He
knelt to grab his t-shirt from the floor and wiped his crotch dry with it.
He then threw the t-shirt at me. "Here, wipe yourself off!" he grunted and
disappeared into the foyer.

 I used his stale, damp to wipe the mess I had created on my face and belly
and he returned tossing a blanket at me. "Okay, cocksucker. I'm goin' to
bed," he told me, "See ya in the morning." He swatted the lightswitch off
and disappeared into the bedroom.



 The morning came, and I barely slept. I'd spent the rest of the night in a
state of semi-consciousness. I saw the bedroom door open, and Scott emerged.
He was wearing nothing but a pair of red silk boxers and he was sporting an
obvious erection which was causing them to tent in front. As he came closer,
I could clearly see part of his shaft peaking through the 'trap door' of his
boxers. I still wasn't sure if I was awake or sleeping, but his crotch was
once again staring me in the face as I felt his large hand grab my shoulder
and begin violently shaking me.

 "Hey cocksucker!" I heard him yell, "You almost ready to head back out to
the valley?"

 "What, what?" shaking my head to clear out the cobwebs in my brain, "I'm
awake. What?"

 "Time to wake up," he said. "I woke up with a raging boner, and Missy's
still asleep," he told me, "You're gonna hafta blow me again, cocksucker!"

 "Dude!" I cried, "I already paid up! I don't owe you anymore!"

 "Shut the fuck up!" he barked at me, "Do you wanna walk home? Get on your
fucking knees!" He pulled me off the couch and I landed on the floor with a
thud. I attempted to get on my feet and as I tried to stand, Scott grabbed
my shoulders and shoved me back down to the floor. He swiftly pulled off his
boxers. "Open your mouth, cocksucker!"

 I tried to resist him, but when I did he grabbed the back of my head and
gave my hair a strong yank. Instinctively, my mouth opened from the pain, so
he shoved his cock into my gaping lips to stifle my yelp. He rapidly began
thrusting and pistoning his cock into my throat like a jackhammer, deeper
and deeper, faster and faster each time.

 "Yeah, uh, uhh, fuck!" he repeated over and over like a broken record as
the head of his pick bounced off my throat. It took all the strength I had
to control my gag reflexes as he continued his brutal assault on my face.
"I'm gonna blow my load right in your cocksucking fag mouth!" he exclaimed.

 I thought I was going to choke. Fortunately, within minutes he told me,
"I'm gonna cum! I'm gonna cum! Eat it! Take my load!" and his prick exploded
with a burst of his fluid that hit my throat. It kept on erupting, shot
after shot, inside my cheeks and across my tongue.  His pistoning slowed
down until he finally finished and he gave me a quick shove pushing me off
his dick.

 "Fuck, I needed that!" he said and he bent to grab his boxers. "Get
dressed, cocksucker, I'll take you home now."

 It was a long, quiet ride back to Encino. The only sound in the car was the
music blasting from the radio. He veered off the 101 Freeway and I meekly
gave him the instructions to my apartment. He pulled in front of my door and
pulled to an abrupt stop.

 I opened the door and began to exit his car. "Hey!" he called out to me.

 "Yeah?" I asked as I turned to him.

 He pushed a piece of paper at me. "Here's my number. If you ever wanna get
a rematch goin', gimme a call." He sneered at me while he pulled the
passenger side door shut. Without another word, his car screeched away.