by Sam Haywood
This show had distracted me from watching a pair of fresh-faced lads in their late teens, just old enough to join this club, but not old enough to drink in it, playing at an adjacent table. They looked military with their close-cropped hair and well-exercised physiques. Both were slender, broad-shouldered, smooth-skinned youngsters, very sleek young animals. They had both gotten down to boxers when the JO show got underway. Afterward, I turned and noticed that the darker-haired one had lost. Now he was on his hands and knees, ass in the air, on the pool table top sucking off his buddy, a lanky, fair- haired specimen with a six-inch dick that repeatedly disappeared to the root within his fellator's mouth. The audience quickly gathered round the table to watch this new attraction.
So the pool games had become a four-ring circus. The players, intent upon their game and mostly oblivious to their audience, twisted and bent to make their shots, displaying their naked or nearly naked bodies in interesting angles. From time to time there was a particularly interesting pay-off to a bet.
"There's some big dick in this town," I commented to Byron.
"Yeah, I don't know who determined what average is. They sure didn't measure nobody around here."
"But wait till they see yours!" added Romeo. "You've definitely got the Carter cock!"
For a moment, I had the thought that I had never actually seen any Carter cocks other than my own, not hard at least. But suddenly, a memory did come to me, though, one that I had not thought of for years. I was about seven years old. My dad had brought me down to visit the grandparents for much of the summer, and he had stayed several days, too. He and Grand-daddy and I had gone to a cabin way out in the woods, by a good-sized lake. It was all very private, and I had the idea it belonged to Grand-daddy, but I wasn't sure. But Dr. Dupree, his son Dalton, and Dalton's son Roman had been out there for a couple of days with us. And we had all gone naked together the whole time! We swam, fished, played badminton, hiked, and even just sat around totally in the all- together. I remembered how Grand-daddy's and the doctor's dicks had hung so long, and my dad's was even thicker than theirs, and sometimes it did kind of swell up and grow. Even Roman's little pecker seemed big compared to mine. It was a wonderful time, and it was never repeated. I wondered where that place was and what had happened to it.
"O. K., we're up." Romeo broke my reverie.
A table was now vacant, and someone over in the corner was looking at his list and waving to Romeo.
"You're going to put on quite a show, Ace. We each only have on four pieces of clothing, and that counts shoes!"
"Maybe we'll both put on a show, then."
He laughed. "Maybe we will."
"You seem to have this all planned out. What's the penalty to be?"
Romeo gave me a self-satisfied smirk. "Loser is slave to winner for twelve hours."
"Well, that will suit you either way, won't it, Mr. Versatility. O. K., I agree, under the restrictions we laid out earlier."
We shook hands and began to select a cue from the rack.
During this conversation, the table next to ours had also cleared, with two nude young men, one loud and effeminate, the other quiet and manly-looking, making their way out hand in hand. Suddenly, a sort of hush came over the crowd for just a moment, and heads turned toward the door. I looked also, and what I saw froze me in my tracks for maybe ten seconds, which seemed like ten minutes.
A stunningly gorgeous man had entered the room. He was about my height, and of a similar build, though maybe with slightly broader shoulders. His carriage was elegant and poised. His hair was medium length and very black, but his skin was smooth and almost fair, though lightly tanned. He wore khaki cargo shorts, a blue golf shirt, and heel-less, closed-toe, suede sandals. He had on fashionable, gold-rimmed glasses, which made him look at the same time smart, sexy, confident, and shy. The expression on his handsome face was friendly and pleasant, but reserved, and that was what made me realize after an agonizing moment who this guy had to be-Roman Dupree! He exchanged greetings with several men, seemingly looking about for someone. His eye fell on me and lingered for a moment, his smile widening a bit. Then he became aware of Byron approaching him, and he moved forward to meet the younger man, grabbing him and hugging him, making eye contact. The crowd parted to let Byron lead his friend over to the vacant pool table next to ours. The two put their heads together, laughed, jabbed at one another playfully, shook hands, and reached for pool cues.
"Your tongue is hanging out."
That sour remark from Romeo brought me back to my senses, and I realized I had been staring for far too long.
"I'm sorry. Did I drool?"
"Just a little. Don't worry, you'll get a taste of him soon enough. He's particular who he hooks up with, but you're the only one here as good-looking as he is. He won't pass you by."
"So what are you, chopped liver?"
"Nine point eight, remember. That guy is the only damn eleven on record. Yet."
I'm sorry, Romeo. I didn't mean to be rude. I just haven't seen him since he filled out. I had no idea he turned out so gorgeous. I guess I better get my mind on you and the game, or I'll wind up a naked slave!"
"You're going to, anyway."
I turned to move toward the end of the table to shoot the break shot, and almost ran right into Roman, who had come up behind me to say hello. It was an awkward greeting from my side, but Roman handled it gracefully, cool and self-possessed. He shook my hand firmly, then gripped my bicep with his left hand and drew me closer in a hug as he told me how much he'd miss my Grand-daddy, and what a great guy he was. I suspected that Roman actually knew J. P. better than I did, because his parents had divorced a few years earlier than mine, and he had largely been raised by his dad, who lived in Columbia, not far away. The two of them had seemed to spend a lot of time here in Hebron as we were growing up.
My brief conversation with him was a stammering nonsense. "I just learned about this place today...I had no idea...well, I've had a lot of surprises today, as you can imagine...it really blows my mind to find out that you, and Grand-daddy, and Dr. Dupree...that you...well, I'm really glad to see you...you've...you've really changed a lot... I like the glasses...I'm really sorry about this afternoon by the pool, I guess I looked like an alley cat out there...I'm not usually so..."
"I'm really glad to see you, too," he finally interrupted, putting me out of my misery. "Don't worry about this afternoon. Don't worry about anything. Welcome to Hebron."
As he let me go to return to his game with Byron, I fired off one more volley. "So what are your stakes with Byron?" I stammered.
"Same as yours with Romeo, I hear." He gave me a grin that almost caused my bladder to give way. As he leaned on the end of his pool table to watch Byron break, his curving butt stretched the seat of his shorts, and I was mesmerized anew.
"You going to play or watch?" Romeo jibed.
It looked like I would forever be the idiotic little twerp next to Roman's cool competency. Chagrined at being so incapable of maintaining my focus, I tried to get back some concentration, but I flubbed the break almost totally. Romeo was chuckling at me as he leaned into his first shot.
"Like fish in a barrel," he commented.
He completed the break with his shot and sank the one ball. So I was stripes. I sighed, and ceremoniously removed one sandal. Several guys standing about clapped. I looked around and observed that they were staring, no leering, at me optimistically. All that for one shoe!
I heard a whoop from the next table and turned to see Byron raise his arms.
"I'm stripes!" he exulted. He looked meaningfully at Roman, who, still smiling, also removed one Birk and tossed it under the table. He glanced sympathetically at me. There was more applause.
Both games proceeded apace. I sank the ten and took a flip-flop from Romeo. We both missed on two rounds. Then he sank the five, putting me in bare feet. Two shots later, I followed with the stripe.
At the next table, Byron was playing bare-chested! Roman seemed to be
on a tear, having lost only the one shoe.
I concentrated on my follow-up shot, which required a careful bank. Miraculously, it worked perfectly, and I watched another striped ball roll gracefully into the side pocket. Romeo doffed his tee shirt to the applause of the growing crowd. I looked out to notice that every member in the place had gravitated down to our end of the room. The other two pool tables were idle, as all present focused on these two contests. Bets were being made and odds discussed.
I narrowly missed my next shot, and left Romeo in good position to take my shirt. There was kind of a low moan followed by a murmuring of conversation from the crowd as I pulled it over my head.
Then a second moan alerted me to the other table. Roman was pulling his shirt over his head, too, revealing a sleek, smooth abdomen with muscular ripples, and firm, well-delineated pectorals. The only hair visible was a tiny trail beginning at the navel and descending tantalizingly into the shorts.
The excitement increased among the onlookers. I knew that three of us were down to one item of clothing, and there was no sign of an underwear elastic showing at Roman's waist, either.
It was Roman who struck first, causing Byron to drop his shorts. There was applause for his incredible physique, but after all, everyone had seen it before. Byron answered Roman with authority, however, and my old childhood playmate slipped out of his shorts, too. Even this, he managed with bemused dignity. The applause was a bit more sustained this time, as he was not quite so much a fixture of the place as Byron. I stopped watching Romeo's turn at the table to take a good look.
I find that before I see a man naked, I'm tantalized with curiosity, picturing various sizes and shapes of dick, pubic bush, scrotum, and ass cheeks with or without tan lines, and wondering which vision is closest to the real thing. Once I see the guy, though, I always wonder how I could have imagined him any different than he is. It seems so inevitable, as if I should have known all along. Roman was like that, too. His naked form was perfect in its symmetry, balance, and proportion. His cut cock was meaty and substantial, even totally flaccid, which it was. His balls were large and heavy-hanging. His pubic bush was full and triangular-in fact, I saw no sign of any trimming whatsoever, nor any real need for it. In his totally natural state, the man was a perfect specimen of masculine beauty, European division. Looking at him made me feel over- groomed.
In the back of my mind, I heard the balls striking and rolling on my own table. Then Romeo's voice broke in.
"Well, well. The spotlight now moves to the Center Ring, Stud-cakes. Drop 'em!"
He had sunk his ball, and now my shorts must sink as well.
The whole crowd of men turned as one to watch. I'm not the least bit modest, but when I saw Roman standing there naked, looking at me and smiling, and everyone else but Byron dressed, I actually blushed. I unhitched my belt and opened the button and zipper in one smooth motion, trying to be as cool and nonchalant as they had been, but to me it felt bashful and awkward. My shorts dropped to the floor like a shot bird. I kicked out of them and pushed them under the table near my shirt and shoes, and stood there like an idiot, stark naked among thirty or forty clothed men.
For just a couple of seconds, there was a strange silence. Then a lone whistle, and after that the applause began. It seemed to go on forever, and I blushed even deeper under my tan.
Romeo had a resigned set to his jaw. I wondered if he might be feeling a little worried about losing some of the distinction of being the club Adonis. He muffed his next shot.
The only way to regain my composure was to focus on the business at hand. I bent over my pool cue with a vengeance and sank two striped balls. Off came Romeo's shorts, to an appropriate level of audience appreciation. Romeo's aw-shucks grin returned, but not his concentration on the game. He was now part of a show in which the four sexiest men in the room were performing naked for the pleasure of the rest, and he seemed more interested in posturing and posing than in playing.
I'm going to take this guy, I exulted to myself.
I was down to the eight-ball, while Romeo had two left on the table. I had an easy shot, a sucker-shot. I lined it up perfectly and gave just the right tap on the cue ball. The eight rolled smoothly toward the called corner pocket. It dropped in with a clunk.
And so did the cue ball, right behind it. I had scratched on the eight-ball, losing the game.
The crowd groaned loudly. Romeo whooped. I know he had had visions of himself as my slave (not that he would have minded all that much), but I figured that, in proposing this wager, he must have plans for my ass that night. Now, he could have his way with me.
At the next table, Byron was close to defeating Roman as well. He was pointing to a side pocket and preparing to end the game; Roman still had one ball left on the table. Byron tapped expertly on the cue ball, and it glanced precisely off the eight, knocking the eight into the side pocket while bouncing safely against the side, inches from the hole. Their game was ended, too, and Roman was to be a slave to Byron. Several men slapped Byron on the shoulder, and there were congratulations and condolences all around. Money was changing hands, too, as side bets were paid.
Romeo came up to me and wrapped his arms around me. He planted his mouth on mine and gave me a big, deep kiss, to the delight of the onlookers.
"Your ass is mine, Baby!"
I didn't mind that concept at all, but I did wonder what Romeo might have in mind for me.
"O. K., first, we have to reward these fine gentlemen for their support and encouragement. Hop up on the table and lie down on your back."
On my back? I wondered. It looked like some kind of public display was coming, but what?
I did as I was told, perhaps a bit sheepishly, and noticed as I was lying down that Roman was doing the same thing on his table. Hmmm. There seemed to be some kind of coordination going on between Romeo and Byron. Those two had some kind of plan together. I lay back nervously.
Byron then hopped up onto the table with me and straddled me at the waist. My hands spontaneously fell onto his strong thighs. His dick approached my chin as he scooted up a bit on my torso. As he leered at me from above, his cock was growing larger and firmer. In short order, it was tapping gently on my chin.
"O. K., slave, it's time to service your master. Let's see some submission, boy." He took my wrists and pulled them up over my head, leaning forward so that his cock lay across my lips.
Ah, so I was going to get throat-fucked. Kind of embarrassing in front of all these strangers, but oh so sexy as well. I felt my own cock rising toward Romeo's anus, and I heard the murmur of commentary from the men around the table. I could no longer see what was going on, because I had Romeo hanging over me. I opened my mouth to receive his long dick.
Suddenly, I felt firm hands, several of them gripping my ankles and calves, and extra ones on my forearms, too. Straps were fastened quickly around my wrists and ankles. The hands were removed, but I remained immobilized. I had been bound to the table.
"What the..." I mumbled around Romeo's dick.
"Shit, what is this!" I heard Roman call out from the next table. Something similar was happening to him also.
There were obviously a number of conspirators in this prank.
"You fucker. What would you have done if had beaten you?"
"Then I'd be lying there like you are, Stud-muffin. I almost wish I was." He swung his leg over me and hopped down off the table.
"What are you going to do to us?"
"Well, the strip pool tournament is over now, and we're ready for another contest. This one is between you and Roman, only the winnings go to me and Byron, since we're the owners."
"What contest?"
"It's milkin' time, hon. We got us two purebred Holsteins here, and we're gonna find out which one gets the blue ribbon for production. The one with the most cums before six in the morning is the winner."
"You guys are going to stay up all night and jack us off?"
"Oh, there's lots of us, we'll get some sleep. Y
ou can too, if you can manage it. You'll get some breaks, say half an hour or so between cums."
I groaned. This was going to be a long night. My dick would no doubt be raw by six o'clock. I turned my head to look over toward Roman. His dick was already hard and pointing straight up into the air, being pistoned by a shirtless, strapping man about thirty years old. My own dick responded by reaching for my navel across my abdomen. Roman had an easy eight inches of beautiful, straight cock, and seeing him restrained and manhandled there was an enormous turn-on.
"This is no fair, I've already cum twice this afternoon!" I wailed childishly, as if it mattered.
"So did Roman," chortled Byron. "Romeo went over and sucked him off at his grand-parents' house this afternoon, while I was getting started with you. And then my buddy, Duke, the bakery delivery driver, did him when he got to the club. That's why he was almost late to the pool game!"
Roman groaned good-naturedly. "We've been had, Jack. Might as well lie back and enjoy it."