The 8-ball thunked against one bank, then another, angled back down the table and made directly for the corner pocket. It plunked in as someone in the group that had gathered to watch muttered "Fuck!" in surprise. I smiled to myself. The stakes were a buck a game plus the quarter to start the game, and after three hours of non-stop play the row of quarters was still as long as ever, but I had not had to put up another one. I had won every game.

"Shit, right into his pocket," my opponent said to no one in particular, and threw a dollar down onto the table. We were playing "Last Pocket," an 8-ball game where one must sink the 8-ball into whichever pocket the last of his seven regulation balls has gone. "I lose again. God damn it!" he cursed as he thrust his cue-stick into the hand of someone standing nearby, pushed his way though the crowd and went to the bar without glancing back. He was pissed off.

They were all pissed off. I was a stranger. I could sense their hostility in the unasked question that hung in the smoky air: "Who the fuck are you to come in here and take our money?" They didn't like it but could say nothing to me because my play appeared routine, neither flashy nor spectacular. Most of the time, the loser gave the game away by accidentally sinking the 8-ball out of turn or into the wrong pocket, or by failing several attempts to get it into his last pocket before I sank it into mine. My evident incompetence only added to their annoyance, frustration and growing determination to see me beaten.

To the call of "Who's next?" a slim, crafty looking young guy in black T-shirt and black jeans moved out of the crowd of on-lookers and grabbed one of the quarters. He squatted down at the side of the table, put the coin into the slot, freed the balls for the next game, and still squatting, looked up at me and smirked. I stopped chalking my cue and smiled at him.

"They call me 'Duke'," he offered. "What's yer name, kid?"

"Jack," I answered, still smiling at him.

"Jack?" he asked, talking loudly, playing to the crowd, "That's a good handle, but you'd get along in here better if it was Jack-off." Then he laughed. Others started laughing with him. He moved to the opposite end of the table and began racking the balls. His expression seemed open, almost friendly, but from an underlying intensity I sensed in him, I realized he simply did not want to lose. He wanted to get me angry so I'd mess up my game. "You one of them queers?" he asked with a sneer.

"I've been called worse," I said with a blank expression.

"Oh yeah? Like what? Cocksucker? Pussy? Asshole? What?" His sneer was twisting into a grimace of disgust.

"Right now, I'm being called 'The Winner'." I smiled at him, again.

"I'll change all that," he announced to the crowd, grandstanding, strutting in place with his chin raised defiantly. They cheered him on.

I glanced around. I'd been keeping my eye on the crowd and had come to realize I'd stumbled by chance into a hangout for male hustlers and those fellows who curry their favor. They were about evenly split between the two groups and, from their easygoing banter, it seemed that nearly everyone knew everyone else real well. I'd seen many of these hustlers in a nearby one-square-block city park which has a reputation for available boys, but I hadn't known they hung out at this particular seedy little bar, which I had passed by often enough. Today I had decided to check it out, have a beer, maybe shoot some pool, and then found myself in the middle of this ongoing winning streak.

"I'll beat you fast," he challenged.

"Wanna bet?" I spoke quietly, but everyone in the place heard me. A murmur went through the crowd as they realized I was suggesting we up the one-dollar ante.

"Yeah. Sure," he replied without hesitation. "I'll bet you anything you want that I'll win," he said belligerently, adding with a boastful cockiness, "I'm better than you are."

"Well, put your money where your mouth is."

"Yeah, money. Everything's money," he said with annoyance. "I ain't got much money." He paused, gave me a look which I found sexually tantalizing but which I'm sure he thought imparted innocence, then he slipped a hand down into his crotch, rubbed lewdly, and asked, "How about playin' for somethin' more interestin'?"

"Like what?" I asked apprehensively.

"Like a piece of ass, man. Like a piece of your ass." He leered and rolled the words smoothly off snarling lips. The crowd was silent, expecting an outburst of anger from me.

"What do you mean?" I felt my face get hot. It flustered me to realize this tough, mean, but undeniably sexy, hustler was turning me on.

"Wadda I mean? Shit, man, I mean if I win I'll fuck that humpy little butt you've been stickin' out and wavin' around in front of us all afternoon, bending over this pool table. That's what I mean. I'll fuck it right here, on this here table, in front of everyone. Here." His free hand loudly thumped the felt-covered table each time he said "here", while his other hand continue to palm his crotch, obviously, getting his fingers up behind his balls and displaying a great bulk of hidden menace. Several of the hustlers began hooting and hollering, laughing and slapping each other on the back, saying things like, "Do it, Duke! We're rootin' for ya. Let's see ya pound it to this faggot."

When they quieted down, I said, "I see." I paused, watching with growing arousal as Duke continued to paw at his crotch as much for his own enjoyment as for display. "And, if you lose, what do I win?"

His eyes flashed a momentary sign of concern, as he looked me in the eye. The others couldn't have seen it, but it was there. The thought worried him. "Wadda ya want?" He paused. "A blow-job?" I guess he meant to divert my attention.

With a stern sincerity, I said, "Here, I want to fuck that tight, macho butt of yours, that you've been hiding from us all afternoon, right on this here table, in front of everyone. Here!" My hand thudded onto the table with equal emphasis each time I said "here," just as his had. As I spoke, the only sound that came from the crowd was a sharp intake of breath, but, suddenly, after a moment for the idea to sink in, a roar of approval went up.

Duke looked surprised but could say nothing above the noise. Word raced through the bar - the loser of the next game was going to get fucked on the pool table by the winner. They didn't care who won or who lost, someone was going to get screwed right here. Everyone got up to press in among the on-lookers, trying to get a good vantage spot, sizing up the two of us as we stared each other down from opposite ends of the table. The crowd quieted, anxious to hear Duke accept the challenge.

"Umm... Er..., I ain't never..." His voice trailed off. He was hesitant, but then became aggressive. "I don't know, now. I don't like anyone puttin' moves on me, man." He looked angrily at me for a moment, his eyes squinting.

"Come on!" someone yelled out, "you ain't gonna lose, Duke." Lots of voices chimed in to offer support. "Yeah," someone else called out, "you're the best pool shark in the city, Duke. You ain't gonna lose. Show this pussy who's boss."

Duke took a deep breath and tried to act bold. "Yeah, what the fuck am I thinkin'. I ain't gonna lose to this guy." He smiled but his hand dropped from his crotch. This was a turn of events he hadn't thought through far enough ahead to anticipate.

Another hustler shouted out of the crowd, "What's this faggot got to threaten you with, anyhow, Duke? An inch and a half? He probably couldn't get it in, even if he could get it up in front of all of us, which I doubt." Everyone started laughing and talking all at once, trying to get Duke to agree to the wager. I just kept looking steadily at Duke, without smiling.

Duke took a deep breath, put out his hand, and said boldly, "All right. You're on. It's a bet." Everyone cheered. I had to walk around the table to shake on the deal. He wouldn't budge. So I went up to him, my hands at my sides, getting right into his face, looking him right in the eye.

"It's a bet," I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. I grasped his scrawny hand firmly and said, quietly and directly to Duke, "When I finish this game, I'm gonna to fuck you in the ass, man." For an instant, fear again flashed in his eyes. I doubt the others saw it. I smiled.

Duke became animated and assertive. "Bullshit! You ain't fuckin' nothin', Pussy. I'm the one who'll be doin' the fuckin'." We released our handshake and, as I started to move back to the head of the table, he added, "Just remember, after this game, the next thing you're gonna feel is my hot eight inches bulldozin' that cute behind." The crowd loved it.

As I moved, I heard someone whisper to his friend, "Eight inches, my ass. If Duke's got six, I'll lick 'em in front of everybody before he starts fuckin' this guy, just to supply the lubricant."

I smiled at the whisperer and asked him, in a whisper, "If I've got better than six, and win, will you lubricate 'em for me?" He looked at me in surprise, then smiled. His eyes got large. "Better than six," he repeated, "well..." His friend poked him in the ribs and said in annoyance, "What the fuck you doin', Jerry? You ain't lubricatin' nothin'." I laughed and got back to the head of the table, ready for the break, chalking my cue.

Duke watched me as he completed racking the balls. I pretended disinterest in him as I studied the tip of my cue. His manner and bearing combined to give him an aura of extreme sexiness. I liked that. He wasn't my type, but his aggressive, masculine confidence appealed to me. Actually, I was really getting turned on. My gut was churning, my heart was pounding, and my balls were pulling up tight in their sac in both arousal and anticipation. My cock was easing its way down my pants' leg, getting interested. I had agreed to either fuck or be fucked, publicly, on the outcome of this game. Either way, the idea was getting me excited. Either way, how could I lose?

On the break, I sank a striped ball. The crowd groaned. My next shot had to be from the foot of the table, so I moved down, next to Duke. He wouldn't shift to make room for me, so to make the shot, I had to press up close to him, leaning over the table. He grabbed a cheek of my ass roughly through my jeans and said for the benefit of the crowd, "Won't be long now." Laughter rose until I sank my next ball. Then it stopped.

I sank two more balls in quick succession. Everyone was silent. Then I missed a shot. Everyone called encouragement to Duke and he put away five balls in row to the growing enthusiasm of the crowd. He missed the next but left me without a clear shot, so on his turn he sank one more. He missed a fairly easy shot with his seventh ball, his "last ball". On my turn, I sank two in a row. Then I missed a hard shot on my "last ball".

To make it more difficult for me to win, Duke then sank my last ball into a side pocket, making it my "last pocket" into which I had to put the 8-ball. But it cost him his turn. Now, in my opinion, that's dirty pool because the side pockets are harder to reach than the end pockets and because he ought to shoot only his own balls, but they'd been doing this sort of thing to me all afternoon, as often as they could manage, so there was no point in complaining. And there was a universal muttering of approval from the crowd over what he had done.

I took careful aim at an odd spot on the bank, poked the cue ball sharply into the 8-ball, and watched as the 8-ball hit one bank, then another, then angled directly for my "last pocket". There was a generalized sharply hissing intake of breath as the crowd gasped. "It's gonna go in!" someone called out in surprise. All eyes in the place watched as the 8-ball rolled smoothly into the side pocket and made a resounding "plop". I had won. The crowd was struck dumb.

Duke's immediate reaction was to drop his cue-stick and bolt for the door. Three of the onlookers, big guys, stopped him from running out. One of them said, "Oh, no you don't. No one runs out on a bet in this place. We all want to see you pay up."

"No," Duke cried loudly, as they struggled to bring him back to the pool table, "I've changed my mind. I don't want to be fucked. Please, you guys, help me."

One of the bartenders came over and said, "Wait a minute! No one's going to do any fucking in here while I'm running this place. It's against the law. We could lose our license. You faggots want to fuck, go outside."

Someone in the crowd with a powerful, deep voice said, "Bullshit!" Well, now, there were probably 25 or 30 men encircling the pool table by this time, all anticipating a free, live, sex show, and none of them seemed in the mood to take "No" for an answer. Someone else demanded, "Lock the doors and make sure we're not disturbed."

Duke was maneuvered to stand in front of me, arms held on both sides. I smiled at him and said, "Looks like we've make a bet neither of us can get out of. These guys..." I waved my hand around, "...want to watch us fuck. We'd better not disappoint them." I was surprised how aroused I was becoming at the thought of actually stripping off and screwing this tough, angry stud in front of a crowd of eager on-lookers.

"You can let me out of the bet with one word, man," he pleaded. I could feel the tension in the crowd as they waited for my reaction.

"No," I responded, "I was willing to take my loss and get fucked if you had won. Now, you've got to take your loss."

"Yeah, take it like a man!" someone shouted. The place broke up in laughter.

Duke looked wretched. "I've never been fucked," he admitted in a rush, "but since you don't mind getting fucked, let me fuck you."

"I've never been fucked, either," I lied, "and I don't want to be now."

"Let me give you a blow-job, then, or a hand-job." He was desperate. The crowd quieted to hear my reply.

"No. A bet's a bet. We gave our word. We shook on it. We must do it."

Several men said, "All right!" excited at the prospect of a show, and pleased with my reaction.

Duke sighed, looking forlorn, still being held firmly. He nodded agreement, looking at the floor for a moment. "OK," he said quietly, but his shifty eyes kept me on the alert.

The crowd cheered. Several fellows cleared the pool table off. "Here," the bartender said, resignedly, tossing over the poll table cover, "don't get cum stains all over the felt." He didn't go back to the bar, but stayed in a place where he'd have a great view. The idea of watching the two of us in sexual combat was beginning to intrigue him, just as it had fascinated the rest of the crowd. I heard lots of comments being muttered among the spectators, like, "Wow, I don't want to miss this," and "I've never seen somethin' like this before," and "Shit, just look at these two sexy guys," and "Don't you wish it was you up there, Babe?" I noticed a number of hands palming full crotches in anticipation of the forthcoming fireworks.

"Let's get 'em naked!" someone called out. The crowd seemed to surge forward, getting in even closer. As the three big fellows around Duke released him, they stripped him of his black T-shirt in one motion. A murmur of approval washed through the crowd. With his shirt on, he had seemed scrawny, but with it off there was no doubt that he was well muscled and trim, with a swimmer's lean build. His dark nipples were taut and erect with excitement, either from fear or arousal, or both, and they highlighted his attractive, lightly hairy upper body. The swirls of jet black hair came together to form a dark line well above his navel, like an arrow pointing to his crotch.

"Take it all off," came the classic chant, and in a flash Duke's pants, shoes and socks were stripped off. He stood there in a dull, faded jockstrap. His muscular thighs and washboard abs were impressive, but what caught everyone's attention was the fullness of his jock pouch. He may protest, and apparently be fearful of getting fucked, but he was aroused by the idea, that much was clear from the exciting way the pouch was filled out. As he watched me being stripped, the pouch continued to enlarge.

My clothes were being removed by several of the spectators. They were efficient and not too rough, but they weren't gentle, either. It was stimulating to be undressed by strangers who were obviously enjoying the task, as their hands made closer, more intimate contact with my body than the simple purpose of stripping me required. If anyone in the crowd had seriously thought I'd be humiliated by my nakedness, they found out differently; the moment my jeans came off my cock sprang up out of the pants leg and completed its surge to full rigidity as they watched. Although they couldn't have known it, I'll admit that being naked and aroused in front of a group of guys has been a turn on for me ever since I joined one of the best J/O clubs in the country. J/O encounters are most popularly enjoyed amidst a crowd, so this was a piece of cake. They wanted eagerly to watch. I became a willing performer.

Someone knelt at Duke's feet and slid his bulging jock down. His penis bounced outward, straining upward, dangling above a tight set of large balls, framed by an abundance of shiny black pubic hair. His cock was puffy and full, not yet hard but obviously engorged sufficiently to make his growing arousal evident to every onlooker. Its fullness, thickness and deepening colors made it so attractive that its size was unimportant, even though my experienced eye told me it would, indeed, reach an erected state of better than six inches, and perhaps even the eight he had boasted of. The crowd murmured approval. The kneeling man looked like he wanted to suck the cock into his mouth, as he strained forward in admiration, apparently enjoying the aroma of crotch odors so near his nose as he breathed deeply.

Jerry, the guy who had whispered about lubrication, minced, "I declare! They look good enough to eat, Sugar." Some of the crowd chuckled. Duke ignored him, fluffing up his crotch hair as he stared at me.

"Go to it!" someone called out. People moved away from Duke and me, giving us room as we watched each other. I got a clear impression that Duke liked what he was seeing. I moved forward, my erection floating out ahead of me, while I listened to flattering comments from the onlookers like, "What a body. Look at that cock, man. I wish I was one of 'em up there." It didn't matter who the comments were about, they were turning both Duke and me on. I was proud of my body and I could see Duke was proud of his, too. My cock was the first thing to touch him, poking at his belly as it slipped past his lengthening rod. He slid a hand around my waist, suddenly, and grasped an asscheek firmly, massaging it roughly.

"This is what you like, man," he grunted huskily, pumping his crotch into mine, "Let me hump you, now." His fingers slipped knowingly into the cleft of my ass and found their way to the puckered hole, quickly dancing around it and deftly probing to gain access. "You know you'll love it," he said, "and so will I." His other hand pinched a tit. His actions took my breath away and I stretched upwards onto the tips of my toes, sliding my cock up his hard belly while pushing my chest into his face. His tongue lapped at the tit freed by his hand and his mouth slid over it, sucking the hard nipple energetically, expertly, nipping at it with his teeth. It felt great. He was obviously experienced in giving pleasure, but I realized that if I didn't take charge, this guy would have me pinned before I could protest.

My hands grabbed his buttocks, pulling the cheeks apart, as I settled back on my heels and lifted him off my chest. His head came up, he looked me in the eye, and then I kissed him. His eyes opened wide. As my mouth covered his, he opened up to thrust out his tongue, but my tongue forced itself inward insistently. The kiss started as a form of combat to see who'd gain the upper hand but rapidly became increasingly passionate. His mouth was harsh and defensive, clean and inviting, demanding and suctioning, yielding and sensitive, tender and loving, all at the same wildly invigorating time. It made my head spin. I watched his eyes slowly lose focus, then close. Mine closed then, too. The environment faded, the crowd disappeared, as the kiss grew more and more giving from each of us, less and less demanding. It was remarkable. The longer we held the kiss, the more overwhelmingly passionate we both became, as we let our hands roam the others' body, giving pleasure, touching, rubbing, pinching, exploring. Our hard cocks stood next to one another, pressed against our stomachs, throbbing with desire. I could feel warm, sticky liquid at the head of each. I felt my balls tickle his, touching his arousal-tightened scrotum. I knew he was feeling these same wonderful sensations and I sensed that his arousal and enjoyment was as deep as my own.

The tension went out of him. It wasn't really submission from him that I felt, as much as it was pure sexual pleasure. Passion caused him to relax. At a certain moment, had I relented, it would have been natural for him to take command and initiate the fucking. We had become partners in the act, not combatants.

By moving slightly, I pressed his thigh against the pool table. Instead of tensing with concern, he raised himself up and settled his butt on the edge of the table. Still locked in the kiss, I bent slightly and raised his legs onto the table, guiding his whole body in my embrace until he was lying well inside the table's raised bank. We held the kiss as I lifted one knee and slipped it between his knees, climbing up onto the table above him, my large throbbing erection pulsing with desire in the air between us.

His hand found my cock and he skinned it back and began a deft, skillful manipulation, pulling the skin upwards, covering the corona, then pushing it down all the way to my tightly drawn up testicles, and back again. The crowd was watching all this until I slowly lowered my body down upon his.

Noises from the crowd had quieted. They had witnessed the changes developing between us during the kiss and they seemed to understand what was happening. Duke may not want to be fucked, but he wanted to be made love to. That was obvious and it shifted the encounter from the purely sensual to the erotically sensational. Many in the crowd began breathing heavily. Comments kept flowing from them, but were less raucous. The "Let's see you slip it to him" type of comment, became the "That's it, do that. Keep it goin'" type of real enthusiasm. I could hear zippers being opened and buttons being popped all around us.

I stretched an arm down, grabbed one of Duke's legs under the knee and bent it upward until his foot was near my hip. Then I grabbed the other leg and did the same. Duke didn't resist. His hips were shifting against me as he poked his cock into my belly, its slick-coated cockhead burning from the heat of his excitement. I pulled back my hips, tugging my cock out of his tight grip. He let go reluctantly. The moment had come to break the kiss.

I slid my mouth down his chin to his throat and down onto his chest, clamping onto one of his hard nipples. I sucked and nibbled with such pressures that he drew in a huge breath of air, lifting his chest and pressing his hips down. I used the opportunity to push his legs forward, towards his head, and brought his asshole into contact with the moist tip of my cock. I rocked against him, sending my cockhead in spirals around his rough-edged hole, moistening it. The contact was electrical for both of us. His asshole seemed alive with shifting muscles and welcoming impulses, steering my cock towards its center as I applied gradual forward pressures.

He tensed, so I moved my mouth to the other nipple and distracted him. His intake of breath at the delight of my mouth, caused him to push against my cockhead, which parted the portal and, sensing the heat inside, developed a life of its own, expanding to its fullest and hardest. The initial opening occurred at a moment of failed attention, and before he could recover, the entire helmet-crowned cap of my cock surged into the moist heat of him and was trapped by his tightness. It was fantastic.

He gasped and called out, "It's too big! It won't go in. Stop!"

My mouth made a slurping noise as it came off of his nipple. "It's in already," I said tenderly. "Relax. Enjoy it."

He calmed, momentarily, looking me in the eye, his lips an oval of concern.

"Breathe deeply," I instructed.

He started to breathe rapidly through his ovaled lips as if he were doing a weight training exercise.

"Deep, deep breaths," I cautioned, using a tone to calm him. We were looking into each other's eyes. I didn't move. My rock hard cockhead throbbed in the moist fire of his asshole, clamped firmly by the sphincter tightened around it.

He began to breathe deeply, cooperating. I kept my hands at the backs of his knees and pulled my upper body off of him, exposing his erection to view. It throbbed with excitement, raised itself above his abdomen, and looked completely engorged. Some in the crowd commented on how great it looked. Others shifted to get a look at my cock poking into him. I strained back some more so we all could see, holding my arms straight out into his legs.

The head of my broad, long cock was out of sight, secure in Duke's rectum. The long shaft looked stretched to the limits, almost luminous with tension, as it poked straight out from my body and straight into his. I heard several men say, "Wow!" as they saw the seriousness of the connection between the two of us.

I licked my lips and smiled at Duke, puckering up for a kiss. He automatically puckered up and then strained his body to raise his head towards mine. The movement forced an inch or so of cock into him. He looked cross-eyed for a moment and then looked into my eyes again. It hadn't hurt him. I saw that in his expression.

I pulled back a bit, forcing my cock to tug against his gripping sphincter, then I eased forward. He lowered his hips at the same moment and the combined movement caused several more inches of cock to surge into the hot, moist canal. "Uhn... uhn...," he whimpered, quietly. "Man, it's too big. You're too big. You'll split me in two."

"You can handle it, Duke," someone called out huskily, voice quivering. "Yeah," another called encouragingly, "you've got it made. He's almost home to the bone."

"Ram it home!" a deep voice said above us, as I felt a rough, muscular hand slide onto my buttocks and give a firm push. It felt terrific, but I didn't want this to turn immediately into an orgy.

"Keep your hands to yourself, goddammit," I cursed, "this is the payoff for a wager, not a do-it-yourself-kit."

"Yeah, that's right!" Duke said suddenly, "Keep your hands OFF, motherfucker, we're doin' alright on our own." The crowd reacted with good humor and berated the guy whose hand still played with my ass, saying things like, "You tell 'im, Duke. Keep your hands to yourself, Larry. You're doing great, Duke. Take it all, man, this looks fantastic!"

Someone else called out, "It looks so great, I'm about to shoot a load!"

I looked over in his direction. So did Duke. A young hustler on the edge of the crowd was jacking off. He had opened his jeans and slid them down onto his thighs. His T-shirt was pulled up with on hand, and he was beating his meat with the other. It looked breath taking, but another moving hand, close by, caught my attention, and I saw another cock being pounded. I glanced around quickly and saw that most of the crowd had their meat out, stroking slowly as the watched the two of us fucking on the pool table. It was incredible - we were the center of a mammoth circle jerk.

As I looked down at Duke, I saw that he was amazed by the activity all around us, too. His inattention allowed me to poke more cock into him. He looked up at me immediately, appearing anxious, but then he relaxed and widened his knees, accepting the inevitable. He grinned.

I began a series of quick jabs and parries, tightly controlled, working to overcome the reflex of his tight sphincter. It paid off, and my thrusts became longer and fuller, getting more and more of the shaft into his heat. Then, amazingly, I began to feel rhythmic counter-movements as he began welcoming my thick cock into his body. Within moments, we were locked into a tremendously stimulating complete fuck, driving cock into maximum depth, jarring my balls against his asscheeks, feeling my cockhair and pubic bone bang into his tightly drawn up balls and hard cockbase, pulling back till his sphincter grabbed behind the head of my cock so it wouldn't slip out, driving back in again to his welcoming moist heat. The full thrusting of my long cock caused both bodies to posture erotically before the crowd.

"Oh, that's got it!" the guy who'd said he was about to shoot called out, and we looked over to see his large cock launch a wad of white cum into the air towards us. It landed on Duke's chest and we both looked at it in astonishment. A quick-thinking young man near the spouting geyser swooped down onto the cockhead and sucked it into his mouth. The grunts and movements from both of them told us they were delivering and receiving a big load.

The shining sperm on Duke's chest invigorated our fucking. The hand on my ass kept rubbing as it felt the increase of effort on both our parts. We took the fucking to a higher plane, drawing the eager thrusts to shorter and shorter bursts of rhythmic collisions, getting down to the short strokes. I was amazed that Duke was able to take me in with so little problem. It made me wonder if his protestations of never having been fucked weren't just as insincere as my own, sown to protect his macho image. In any event, he was really enjoying himself. So was I. And we were both keeping an eye on the crowd, as most of them were openly jacking-off while they watched us fuck.

Suddenly, Duke flexed and tightened on my throbbing column and it felt like my entire cock was being massaged. A wave of passion swept through me lifting me to another level. I knew I was about to come, and that I was past the point of any chance of holding off. "I'm going to come, too," I told him loudly enough for everyone to hear. Duke smiled, looking very happy, and said, "Let 'em see you shoot, man! Make sure they see you ain't pretendin'."

My breath drew in deeply as I lunged a final time against his heat. A quiver went through me and I felt the first magnificent explosion of my orgasm send a surge of jism deep into Duke. With no hesitation, and with little concern for my partner, I pulled out of Duke's ass with a quick motion, leaning back. My cock sprang upwards, slapped against my stomach with a wet smack, quivered rigidly in front of my navel, and continued to spew its heavy load. Jet after jet of thick fluid spurted from the thick cockhead into the air, sailed up and then fell onto Duke's chest, belly and cock.

This was all happening so fast it was difficult to take in everything that was going on. Many in the crowd began erupting with orgasms of their own. Some seemed to be doing it on their own, simply watching me come. Others seemed to have formed small groups which were both watching us and watching themselves beating off. Several of the small groups were having mutual orgasms, timed precisely with my own. It was overwhelming.

As I kept looking, I grabbed my cock and milked out the remaining vestiges of a terrific orgasm. I noticed that Duke's hand was capturing my cum and smearing it onto his throbbing erection. He wasn't using it to jack off. He was getting prepared.

"Looks good, don't it," he said, looking me in the eye, displaying the large cock to me, shiny with my own cum. It looked great in his hand, standing straight, helmeted glans thick and so fully engorged it look like fine red porcelain buffed to a glowing sheen, shiny cockskin moving easily in his grip. "What a cock," I said, staring at it.

Duke pushed his legs to straighten them out, stretching them alongside mine. Then he reached up, grabbed one of my arms, pulled me onto himself and rolled us over, all in one smooth motion. Now he was on top.

He wasted no time in sliding his cock up against my asshole. I offered no resistance and the slippery, shiny cockhead forced its way in with little difficulty. This boy has fucked before, I thought to myself. He had a knowing technique and an easy manner. Before I knew it, he was sunk in up to the hilt. Everyone in the place watched the skill and dexterity he used to plug me, and they loved it.

The maneuver brought us close to the other side of the pool table. Two of the big guys that had first held Duke from escaping were standing near the table, jacking each other off. They seemed to have huge cocks. They fascinated both Duke and me as Duke developed an energetic pace to his fucking. The two guys looked at one another and then came closer to the table, freeing their cocks as the moved. One leaned in from near the corner pocket and offered his cock to Duke, over my head. The other's cock came straight for my face as he leaned in next to his friend. I watched in amazement as Duke opened his mouth, licked his lips and put out his tongue to lick the swollen head of the cock being offered to him. Then he sucked in the entire glans and began to work the cock, never letting up on the pile-driving strokes into me, which were giving such pleasure. I turned my head slightly and opened for the cock straining to be sucked. It slid in easily and tasted great, if slightly flavored with tobacco from one of the hands used to jack it off. The hairy scrotum of the cock Duke was sucking brushed erotically against my temple each time the man humped forward. It was fantastic!

My legs were pushed further apart by the guy called Larry climbing onto the pool table and pushing his face into Duke's ass. The contact caused Duke to plunge as deeply as possible into me, then pull out while pushing back into the face servicing his delighted ass, then pounding back into me. Larry, the ass-eater, was also beating his meat, as I felt his fist moving unfalteringly back and forth in long strokes against my leg.

Someone reached from the other side of the pool table, grabbed my arm and guided my hand to a long, hard, throbbing tube of flesh. My fingers flitted over the organ taking its measure. It was very big. The flanges of the cockhead were remarkably thick and well defined with a very deep indentation at the tip, which was wet with a large volume of sticky pre-cum. I grasped at mid-shaft and pulled the loose skin covering all the way up over the protruding flanges of the cockhead. I heard a sigh. I pumped down the shaft till the skin held taut and then returned to the head. As I pumped more and more energetically, I felt counter-thrusts of pleasure from the unseen man.

My free hand was around Duke's waist, urging him on, but another hand reached in from the edge of the pool table next to the big man I was sucking and guided it to another large erection. It took some concentration to synchronize the pumping of a cock in both hands, but there I was, simultaneously getting fucked, sucking cock, and jacking two guys off, while a man jacked-off against my leg. I'd just had an orgasm but my cock was as hard as ever, pressed between Duke and myself as he maintained an energetic tempo.

I felt sperm hitting my foot. Someone in the crowd was coming. I heard several comments, like, "Look at that, man. He's taking 'em all on. Ooh, I can't hold off, I'm gonna shoot!" Another guy asked, "Does he give good head, Alex?" Alex, the fellow I was sucking, muttered something like, "This is amazing! Best blow-job I've ever had." He proved the point to me by forcing himself into me even further, shuttering to complete stillness, then beginning to empty his tremendous load of semen into my eager throat, calling out, "God! What a cocksucker! Here, take... my... jism." The last three words were highlighted by mighty pokes of his cock. His sperm tasted salty and smooth, slightly acidic and very spicy. He didn't withdraw.

The fellow next to him, being sucked by Duke, grunted when Alex said "jism" and I could see Duke's throat contracting as he swallowed the big guy's heavy load. He and Alex then both pulled out together and grabbed each other's cock to pump out all remaining residues. Duke and I watched for a moment, then looked at each other. Excitement gleamed in his eyes, as it must have in mine. He pressed his lips to mine. We tasted the semen on each other's tongues. The mixture of cum and saliva was delicious.

Duke's eyes opened wide. He pulled back, lifting himself off of me. He was about to erupt into orgasm. I quickly glanced at the two cocks I was holding, and saw that one of them, the guy next to Alex, belonged to the bartender! The other belonged to Jerry. The bartender eased Alex out of the way and moved up-table with my hand on his cock, hoping I'd suck it, too. I was too interested in what Duke was up to at that moment and so I ignored his silent pleas as he humped cock into my hand near my face.

Duke was moving onto an orgasmic plateau. He breathing was deep and rhythmic, his muscles were taunt and well defined, his color was darkening, and his expression was changing from intense concentration to rapture. "I'm coming," he whispered to me. He was stretched back, his arms pressed down against my hips, the only contact between us at our crotches. He humped forward and I felt a great expansion of his cockshaft and knew an initial spurt of cum was being ejaculated into me.

"Pull out, now," I instructed. "Let 'em see you come!"

"It feels so good, I don't want to," he hissed suddenly as I felt a second spurt of semen shoot into me.

"Pull out!" I insisted. "They want to see!" I sucked in my stomach and pulled myself up and away. He relented and pulled back. He cock slid out of me in an amazingly erotic way, then popped upright and spit a long string of cum right into my face. The crowd loved it. It rained sperm around us for a moment as men aimed their cum at us. Duke grabbed his cock and kept pumping out semen, which landed on my chest and belly. Both cocks in my hands began shooting at the same time, pumping out jism onto Duke and me.

I let go of Jerry's cock, grabbed some of Duke's sperm and spread it onto my throbbing member. It took only a stroke or two to bring myself off. Duke was still coming as the first spurt of cum burst out of my cockhead and sailed over my head. Duke sighed, "Oh, yeah, man! Beat that meat. Shoot that second load!"

Our hands touched back-to-back as we pounded out the remains of our orgasms. We could both see many other men at the same pinnacle of pleasure. "What a sight," Duke whispered.

I heard others repeat his words, saying to themselves, "Yeah, what a sight!"

The bartender brought Duke and me warm, damp towels. We cleaned up and several people helped us into our clothes. I was surprised that the place hadn't erupted into an uncontrolled orgy. Duke grinned at me and said, "How about another game?"

No one complained that Duke was playing out of turn as he racked and I broke. Nothing fell. Duke ran the table, making all of his balls and then sinking the 8-ball into his "last pocket". I didn't get a shot.

"I knew I was better than you," he said defiantly.

"Sure you are," I replied with a grin. "You just like losing every now and again to see how it feels."

"Yeah!" he agreed, "It feels GREAT!" The crowd, still tense with excitement, gave the two of us a long round of applause.

* * * * *


Jack Sofelot


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