Chapter 18 - Big Top Club

There it was in the back of HX Magazine, the ad for a new private club that opened recently in the Bronx.

I was at Colin's place in Chelsea. I went there almost every Monday afternoon to get f.u.c.k.e.d. We were lying on his sweat-soaked sheets, my heart still pounding from the poppers and the huge d.i.c.k that had just left my asshole. Colin lit a cigarette and asked me what I thought about trying the place out. He handed me the magazine and drew a deep hit of smoke, exhaling slowly through his nose as I read the ad:

'BTC Membership by invitation only.

Send three pics via e-mail for consideration:

Face, Torso, and D.i.c.k.'

He told me the initials stood for 'Big Top Club'.

'Shit, Colin, I'm sure not gonna qualify for that!' I said. 'You can go, but I'm just gonna save myself the embarrassment... they aren't gonna want me as a member!

'You asshole! I'm gonna be the member! Don't think they're gonna turn me down, do you?' He growled, stroking his fat nine-inch c.o.c.k, now going soft but still a mighty impressive sight. He was such a f.u.c.k.i.n.g good top! I loved coming over to his place, so glad he decided I was worthy of a regular plowing with his very prodigious c.o.c.k.

Colin was not attractive... his scarred, craggy face showed years of hard living. He smoked, he drank too many beers, and s.e.x with him was anything but romantic. Still, I couldn't stay away from his huge muscular body, the broad hairy shoulders and beefy arms, the thick torso and rock-hard belly that pinned me to the bed as he slid his fat uncut c.o.c.k into my gut every Monday.

My buddy Rick tells me that they have a B.Y.O.B. policy. Colin chuckled. I looked at him, the sweat still glistening on the wooly mat of brown hair that crossed his expansive c.h.e.s.t from armpit to armpit. Colin explained, 'The BTC is kinda like a pot-luck dinner, all the members are expected to contribute to the buffet.' He smirked, 'So there's a Bring-Your-Own-Bottom policy!'

The club was formed solely for the enjoyment and satisfaction of very largely endowed men. Colin certainly fit the profile, and I was sure that he would be welcomed into the club as soon as his pics hit the BTC in-box. I was right... Friday I got a text message to be at his place, Saturday night at ten p.m., ready to hit the BTC with him.

I shivered as I dried myself from the shower, and spread a little lube into my a.s.s before pulling on my black 2X(ist) b.r.i.e.f.s and tank. A pair of 501's, and I was out the door, my hair still wet, eager to get to Colin's place before ten. He didn't like me to be late, ever!

Colin looked awesome tall and beefy, dressed in black jeans and a white cotton tee shirt that fit him like an extra skin. I gazed at the stretchy material, straining across his massive pecs and rock-hard belly. I could see the texture of his coarse brown c.h.e.s.t hair under the thin opaque knit.

Okay, buddy, you ready for this?' He hummed in my ear as he came up behind me and pressed his crotch into my a.s.s. I loved the feel of his huge arms around my waist, his meaty hands grabbing my c.h.e.s.t.

'You know what happens to you tonight, right?' He asked, his breath sweet and musty from beer and cigarettes. I nodded yes.

'You're so f.u.c.kin' cute, bet you're gonna be the most popular p.u.s.s.y at the club!'

I smiled. His words were gruff and l.e.w.d, but buried in the slur was a complement, and I lived to please Colin.

We walked in silence to the uptown train. Colin wanted to take the subway up to the Bronx, so he could save enough money for the initiation fee and still have enough left for a cab home, sometime early tomorrow morning. I had a secret stash of bills in my pocket, just in case he ditched me, a real possibility if he got carried away tonight!

The men didn't give us a second look, maybe because they've seen the likes of us headed down the block before, headed towards the club. The door opened into a brightly lit reception area. It looked more like an office storage room, garishly lit with fluorescent tubes and painted an ugly mint green. The color reminded me of a hospital.

'Wait here, I'll be right back, just gonna check in!' He said, and lumbered across the room towards a mountain of a man, sitting behind the counter.

Colin returned with a couple pens and some paper. 'I gotta fill out a form, and you gotta sign this waiver.' He said, shoving a pen into my hand. I started to read it, but he smacked me on the side of the head.

'F.u.c.k, there's no time to read this shit, I wanna get the hell inside! It's just a standard form at places like this! he grinned. The club doesn't want to be responsible if anyone gets hurt during consensual activity, get it?'

I took the pen and signed the paper. I shivered, thinking of what waited behind the sickly green wall. Colin returned the forms, and after the big dude at the

desk checked them over, the door opened and Colin stepped inside. I jumped up to follow him, but was stopped at the door.

'Hey, hey, little man, where do you think you're going? You'll have plenty of time to play with the big boys soon enough!' The doorman snickered as he led me across the room, roughly pushing me towards a short flight of stairs. I went down, aware of the muffled m.o.a.ns and shouts that drifted through the walls.

At the bottom of the stairs was a locker room lit with one industrial light hanging from a pipe on the ceiling. The b.a.r.e bulb in a yellow plastic cage shot harsh shadows across the room, highlighting the other boys already there. I huddled in the middle with them, unsure what to do next. The attendant followed us down and started barking orders:

Ok, faggots, get your girlie asses n.a.k.e.d. I'll be around in a sec to assign you a locker. He yelled to the group. And put your personal shit in the yellow envelope on the top shelf!

The twelve of us stood shivering in the damp bas.e.m.e.nt room, fearful of what was to come, but also secretly anticipating what was surely to be the most exciting night of our lives. A few of the boys were visibly shaken, asking to leave, but of course they could not. They had been promised to the club by their sponsor, they had signed sealed the deal. Others, like me, trembled in anticipation. A cute little Hispanic kid was jerking on his uncut meat, a silly grin on his face as he glanced around at the other chickens. I was anxious to see what was to be our fate.

The side door opened and the blare and thump of the dance music at the end of the hall grew thunderous as we scurried to the party room. We emerged into a huge space, lit with strobes and red spotlights. The floor was poured concrete, the walls cinder block painted out in black. The two garage doors on the far wall told of the buildings previous use, probably a garage or body repair shop.

Huge flat panel television monitors hung suspended over the two bars, and images of men performing various s.e.x.u.a.l acts flickered and flashed on the screens as the patrons swilled beers at the rail. As my eyes adjusted to the flashing lights, I saw that the images were actually real-time, the sweating and gyrating broadcast live as they s.u.c.k.e.d and f.u.c.k.e.d in front of a roving video camera man.

My group was ushered to a far wall, where we lined up along a thickly padded bench about twenty feet long. Behind the bench was a wooden rail of openings. I realized as I was pushed down onto the leather bench that it was a large stockade, with enough shackles for all twelve of us. The men gathered around to watch us installed in the gruesome apparatus. Most of them were partially clothed, lots of leather pants and jock-straps, but many of the big burly men were entirely n.a.k.e.d except for socks and boots.

They cheered and grunted like pigs as they watched us struggle against our imprisonment. Finally we were all firmly secured, heads and wrists tightly held in the pine boards, our n.a.k.e.d bodies dr.a.p.ed over the bench, shivering asses high in the air, waiting for our destruction. I heard soft sobbing from a couple of the kids, but I was too excited to be concerned. This was f.u.c.k.i.n.g amazing!

The hot, sweaty men circled us, d.i.c.ks swaying, hairy legs flexing in front of our faces, big furry bellies rubbing against our heads. I felt hands c.a.r.e.s.s my a.s.s as they passed behind me, sometimes slapping, sometimes gently stroking. The men continued around us as the club music increased: Thump, Thump...it was hypnotic, dreamlike.

The men were all going in the same direction, slowly rounding the end of the long bench of boys, then up the other side. I suddenly realized what this was...Thump, athump-thump... It was Musical Chairs! As the dance instrumental reached its zenith, suddenly it stopped. The electronic hum of the speakers is all that could be heard as silence overtook the great room. Then, mayhem!

The line of boys screamed in terror, as mammoth c.o.c.ks suddenly forced themselves between their legs. The screaming died down to a whimper and groan as we were simultaneously confronted with hard fleshy c.o.c.ks baring down against our lips, forcing jaws open as fat mushroom heads, slick with pre-c.u.m, pressed urgently against the back of our throats! Thoroughly skewered front to back, we were pounded against the stockade as the brutes thrust themselves into our helpless bodies. Any circling top unlucky enough to have no hole to plug ended up back at the bar.

I couldn't see behind me, but I knew all I needed to know about the man suddenly f.u.c.k.i.n.g my a.s.s. He was big, thick, and hurt like hell. His pounding c.o.c.k went long and deep, burning thrusts that I felt intensely in my gut like a punch.

The man in front of me grabbed me roughly by the face and pried my mouth open with his thumbs, like a groomer checking a mare's teeth. I heard him chuckle as he slid his fat d.i.c.k into my mouth, the head dancing on my tongue, it's musty odor of urine and salty taste already filling my senses.

Open wide, little bitch! I don't want any teeth, either, you unnerstan'? He slurred.

I glanced up at him. He was short, black, maybe five-seven, and built like a fireplug. All muscle, wide and brawny, almost hairless except for a small patch of fuzz around each chocolate brown n.i.p.p.l.e and a little square of kinky black hair above his huge c.o.c.k. Not long, but as thick as a beer can, the man's d.i.c.k stretched my lips till they stung. I gagged, but he insisted, and soon his fragrant p.e.n.i.s was firmly lodged in my throat. I couldn't really even suck him; he filled me so completely, so he just continued to pump it against my throat till he came, a thick load of his DNA mainlining to my stomach.

The f.u.c.ker behind me grabbed me by the shoulders, and I felt his weight on top of me as he collapsed on my back, driving his c.o.c.k deeper into my gut. I could only imagine his size... maybe three hundred pounds easy, a thick hard belly, big calloused hands scraping on the nape of my neck. His grunts were like an animal, a beast, panting as he pounded his h.i.p.s against my a.s.s, his broad hairy c.h.e.s.t rubbing on my back like a coarse woolen blanket. I smelled the sweet beer on his breath as he shuddered and blew his nut into my anus. The two men pulled out of me at the same time, and my a.s.s made a sickly wet thwop noise as I released his c.o.c.k.

The men all congratulated themselves, slapping each other's butts and ordering a new round of beer as the music once again shot out of the big speakers mounted in the ceiling. Da-Boom, Thump, Thump... a spacey techno dance tune from last summer. The members began the ritual again, slowly circling the bench. I saw a couple of the boys being removed, shackles opened, limping off with one of the tops into the darkness. Apparently the only way off the bench was to be chosen for some one-on-one by a member. Otherwise, you would be tortured on the bench continuously, without relief, the rest of the night as part of the Musical Chairs game.

I saw Colin join the parade this time, he marched around the remaining kids, laughing and joking with his new friends. When he passed me, I saw a funny look in his eyes. I couldn't be sure, but he almost looked sorry. Did he regret bringing me here? How did he feel about watching me get r.a.p.ed and tortured like this? The moment passed and he proceeded down the line, just as the music abruptly died.

I lost track of the time. Had hours gone by, or was it just a few minutes? The game had continued, and I played through about five rounds. My a.s.s was on fire, and my face ached like I had been punched square on the jaw. The slimy c.u.m in my mouth mixed with saliva and drooled down my chin to the cement floor.

Thirty-six! I heard a click and the wooden panel lifted from around my shoulders. I felt a hand grab me under the arm and lift me off the bench. I didn't look up at my emancipator until he had guided me across the floor to the bar.

Hey there, little p.u.s.s.y, you were pretty awesome out there! You f.u.c.kin' took everything they threw ya, and took it like a man! He drawled. How many f.u.c.kin' rounds did you go through? Six? Thought maybe you needed a break from the bench!

I looked up at the man. Maybe 35, he was very tall, not huge, but muscular and defined. His shoulders were broad, his belly rippling with a distinct six-pack. He was almost nude except for an orange jock-strap that stretched tightly across something enormous!

Come over to the end of the bar and grab somethin' to drink! He said as he led me to a barstool. I pulled myself up and he stood behind me, his big hands on my shoulders. I studied him in the big plate glass mirror behind the bar. His dark features were refined, although his skin sunburned and rough. He looked vaguely Mediterranean, maybe Egyptian or Syrian. His curly black hair fell in glossy rings on his forehead. I imagined he was a construction worker, or maybe a landscape guy, someone who worked long hours outdoors. I could see the ghost of his tee shirt on his sleek biceps, pale shoulders where the sun had not baked his skin an olive tan. The wide expanse of his c.h.e.s.t was entirely blacked out in a wooly mat of shiny coarse hair.

I focused on the most striking thing about the man, a huge tattoo of a snake that began on his right hand and spiraled up his arm. It continued to wrap around his traps and across his back, down the other arm and ended with a vicious serpent's head on his left wrist. Emerald green eyes glared from the head, the creature's fangs seemed to cut into his flesh, and drops of tattooed blood dripped from the puncture wounds. I touched the ink, as if I expected the scales to be real.

You like? He asked. It's a python. That's my name, you call me Python.

The bartender delivered a couple beers and a glass of water. I gulped down the water immediately as Python swigged on his brew.

Just relax, and this will be fun for both of us! He hissed, and I thought of the fantastic snake coiling around the mans back. I'm just gonna slip the python in your pretty little a.s.s for a few minutes, okay? He pressed his body up against my back and pulled the bench out from under me. It felt good to be manhandled, and I didn't resist.

The bartender smirked and passed me a bottle of Amyl as Python dropped his jock strap around his h.i.p.s. I huffed on the little brown vial and watched again in the mirror as he mounted me.

I reached behind me for his c.o.c.k. It startled me! Its size and girth took me by surprise until I remembered where I was, the Big Top Club! It truly was serpentine, long and sinuous, its slippery head popping out of a thick meaty foreskin. It felt hot, ready to explode; it pulsed and throbbed in my hand as I guided it against my asshole.

Oh, Yeaaaah, baby, you want the python, don'cha? He grunted in my ear, as I felt him twist his c.o.c.khead against my rosebud.

The Amyl was taking effect. I began to open for him, and although I was still aching from the Musical Chairs ordeal, he went in pretty easy. I zoned out, dreaming of a huge snake coiling and twisting in my belly. I could feel its head searching deep in my gut, tongue fl.i.c.k.i.n.g inside me as Python f.u.c.k.e.d my flaming a.s.s.

I laid my head on the beer-soaked bar as he pounded me up against the rail. His hands held me firmly by the shoulders, driving his python d.i.c.k deeper and deeper into my rectum. I was euphoric! This was insane. I could feel him swelling, and I reached back and squeezed his fleshy balls.

Oh, shit! You f.u.c.kin' cunt! You gonna take my load, baby? That what you want, my f.u.c.kin' load? Well, here you f.u.c.kin' go!!!! Python shouted, as he released himself into me, filling me with his hot venom.

His body shook violently as he slammed against my a.s.s, the last of his special delivery pounded into my hole. My legs collapsed, and I fell to the floor. Awesome! Just incredible. He had pierced deep into my psyche... I was thoroughly satisfied, and I hadn't even e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed.

Python threw a few dollars to the bartender and sauntered off into the throbbing red light, wiping his d.i.c.k with a c.o.c.ktail napkin. I pulled myself up off the floor and picked up my beer with a shaky hand. Trembling, I brought the cold liquid to my lips and drank.

Don't know how you goddamn bottoms do it. I been f.u.c.k.e.d a couple times in my life... it was okay I guess, but how you f.u.c.kin' take it over and over, I just don't get it! The bartender said, as he picked up my empty bottle from the sticky bar. You're either a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t or f.u.c.kin' nuts!

I stared at myself critically in the mirror. I looked like a pathetic drowned rat, or a marathon runner after 25K. The sweat dripped from my matted hair, my face looked haggard, and my eyes vacant. What was it that made me come back for more, and more? I couldn't answer myself.

I decided I needed to get cleaned up. The bartender pointed me in the direction of the bathrooms. I staggered across the floor, past the many couples in various acts of submission and aggression, till I came to a tiled doorway. It was a big room, with sinks on one wall and open stalls across the other. It served several purposes in the BTC, one of which was as a lavatory. It also seemed to be a playroom for water sports and scat. I never got into that stuff but these guys, soaked and smeared, who languished around the cold porcelain room, seemed to be having a great time. The odor was overwhelming, so I rinsed my face and got out of there as quickly as I could.

As I left the bathroom, I caught Colin's eye again. He was making out in a corner with a cute young black guy, his nappy ebony hair contrasting against his white belly as the kid went down on Colin's fantastic d.i.c.k. He frowned at me, and then turned his face. Embarrassed? Didn't seem possible, but there it was... that look of regret in his face.

I went back to the garage doors, where they had placed several mattresses. Since one was empty, I decided to lie down briefly and recuperate. A shadow fell across my face. I squinted and looked up to see who it was. An enormous man was looming over me. The dude was built like a Buddha, pectorals like cannonballs over a large hard belly. His entire body was covered in dark swirls of black hair, his big n.i.p.p.l.es standing out from his frame like pencil erasers. I instinctively looked to his crotch, and was amazed to see a thickset c.o.c.k dangling under his plump gut, at least ten inches of soft, meaty salami. It was crossed with veins, angry red, with a fleshy foreskin folded over a huge mushroom head. My mind raced to comprehend what I saw. If it was this enormous soft, what in hell would it look like engorged and hard?

The man's features were obscured by a leather mask. He dropped to his knees above my face. I tried to jump up, but he held me down with his big beefy hands and smeared the tip of his c.o.c.k on my lips. I opened my mouth, resigned to his advances. Slowly he lowered himself on my face until his huge d.i.c.k was straining to go around the bend at the back of my throat. He sat fully on me, his thick muscular t.h.i.g.hs wrapped tightly around my head, blocking all senses. I was completely overwhelmed, unable to hear, breath or shout out.

The monstrous c.o.c.k hardened in my mouth, gagging me. The pressure of his hands on my c.h.e.s.t crushed the air out of me. I struggled to break free, but the man, laughing hysterically, just pushed his p.e.n.i.s farther down my esophagus. Several minutes he crushed my head under his crotch, as I thrashed under his overwhelming weight. Lights suddenly danced in my head and I felt no pain, no suffering. I hallucinated, lifting up off the mattress, my consciousness floating in the air, and looked down on the wooly behemoth who was strangling me.

Suddenly, release! I choked and gasped for air as I shook off the effects of asphyxiation. Lying limply on the mattress, wheezing, I saw that Colin had pulled the massive beast off of me and was now pounding him hard, his fists clenched, anger and fury in his face.

You f.u.c.kin' pile of rotten shit! Get the f.u.c.k off the kid! You wanna hurt someone? Try me, you fat bastard! I'll f.u.c.kin' beat the crap outta that goddam big a.s.s of yours! He yelled.

I got up and staggered weakly to the side. I felt queasy, and threw up against the black concrete wall. Another kid gave me a towel, and I hugged it to my face as Colin continued to beat the shit out of my tormentor. The other members began to gather around the mattress, mostly just watching, but some shouting obscenities at Colin:

Hey, asshole, who made you the hall monitor?

The guys gathering around decided it was time to rescue their fat friend, as it was clear Colin was about to beat him senseless unless they came to his rescue. Colin, in his fury, thrashed wildly at the big hairy brutes as they pounded on his head and shoulders, grabbing at him in an attempt to get him off their comrade.

Let the f.u.c.kin' guy alone, he was just havin' some fun!

Somebody go get management!

Colin pulled himself up off the man. His nose was bleeding, the gang of bullies had gotten in a few good punches on Colin‘s face. I could see even in the dim light that his cheek was bruised and swelling. His eye would be shut in a few minutes. I held my towel to his bloody nose as we stumbled towards the locker room. The attendant let us in, and then locked the door behind us.

Get your shit on fast, and get the hell outta here, I can't hold them back much longer. And I don't think it's a good idea for either of you to come back to the BTC any time soon! He snickered, as he handed me the envelope with 36 written in black marker. We dressed hurriedly, and ran out the front door, shirtless and sweating.

Outside, the cool night air hit us in the face like an arctic wind. I saw shadows at the corner, men from the club who had come out the garage doors were trying to head us off at the pass. Colin coming to my rescue had set off some pretty strong emotions in this gang of testosterone freaks! I guessed they didn't like anyone muscling in on their party!

Colin, are you okay? Where's your cell? Should we call an ambulance?

The thugs moved around the front of the building, and I could see there were about ten of them headed our way.

F.u.c.k, no, let's just get the hell outta here! He replied as we dashed towards the river, as the men had our exit back to 175th blocked. I heard their shouts as we came to the end of the road, where it abruptly stopped at the edge of the embankment to the murky water.

There they are! We ran along the fence at the riverbank, looking for an opening. I felt like a rat, trapped in a maze. You guys get the big one; Let me take care of the little p.u.s.s.y! I wasn't looking forward to a dip in that river water, like smelly garbage soup, but the alternative would be painful if not deadly if these idiots caught up with us.

Suddenly, the gang of men split in two; jumping towards the curbs as a sleek Japanese motorcycle came barreling up through them. I heard the w.h.i.n.e of the engine as it geared down to a stop in front of us. A man, dressed in black denim and leather sat straddled on the hot motor, his shiny chrome helmet obscuring his features. I recognized him immediately, the tall, muscular body and broad shoulders could only be Python! Sure enough, the emerald eyes of the serpent glared angrily from under the leather cuff of the rider's jacket.

My heart was racing. Python had just f.u.c.k.e.d me, what, 30 minutes ago? It had been a dream, a fantasy, the most amazing s.e.x.u.a.l experience I ever had, but was he also to be my worst nightmare? I felt the warmth radiating from the fevered motorcycle idling in our path, as the other thugs came up quickly behind us. Python had our only escape to the water blocked!

Get on, both of you get on the f.u.c.kin' bike NOW! He shouted over the hum of the motor. Colin leapt onto the bitch seat and I hopped across the gas tank. Python grabbed the front of my shirt, yanked me into his l.a.p and gunned the powerful engine. We took off with a squeal, the motorcycle leaving nothing but dust and exhaust for the thugs to choke on.

We flew downtown, through valleys of hulking Bronx apartment buildings filled with sleeping humans, streets soundless and still but for the w.h.i.n.e of the motorcycle as we raced past their darkened bedroom windows. Python relaxed his hold on my shirt, and held me firmly by the waist. It was comforting and extremely arousing to be coddled safely in the tall man's secure grip, wedged tightly against his powerful c.h.e.s.t, the hum of the motor between our legs. The wind slapped me in the face, fresh and invigorating, whipping my hair into frenzied rings. It was good to blow the stink of the BTC off my body!

There was never a question as to where we were headed. I was just so glad to have gotten out of the Bronx with no broken bones. Python pulled the bike into a parking deck at 23rd and 8th, and the three of us took the elevator to the sixth floor.

Python's apartment was simple, clean, and surprisingly large. It was in a converted factory space so the high ceilings were crossed with sprinkler pipes, and high-hat lights puddled soft glowing circles around the soaring room. A wall of huge industrial windows looked out on the still bustling action on the street below. The moon was full, and bathed his big platform bed in a blue-white glow.

Clean up, the bathroom is there on the left. Soap and shit is on the windowsill! Python said, as he threw me a fluffy white towel. Colin was in the kitchen, helping himself to a beer. He pulled a frosty bottle of Budweiser from the shelf and held it's coldness to his swollen eye. His bruises made him look like a prizefighter...masculine, potent, yet somehow vulnerable.

Hey Bro! Wanna beer? Damn, that Colin! He could make himself at home in the middle of a tornado. I never met such a cool character! It was his self-assured attitude that made him such a narcotic for me.

The hot water felt great as I gently massaged the soapy washcloth between my sore a.s.s cheeks. I finally got the stink of the big fat man's smelly crotch off my skin, and the moist steam flushed his odor out of my nostrils. Invigorated, I dried off and came back into the loft, the towel wrapped loosely around my waist.

Colin and Python were sitting on the edge of the bed together. They had wasted no time with introductions, but got right to it. Python held Colin's head to his c.h.e.s.t, as Colin s.u.c.k.e.d energetically on Python's big brown n.i.p.p.l.es. Python saw me enter, and grinned.

Come here. Your horny buddy here decided he wanted to stay awhile. I think you better get your sweet little a.s.s over here and help us out! He said, his voice deep and resonant. Colin looked up at me with that shit-eating grin that I can't resist.

I dropped my towel, exposing an outrageous hard-on that jutted from my belly like a flagpole. I was definitely turned on at the thought of Colin, one of the best tops I ever met and Python, the man with the astoundingly huge d.i.c.k, taking turns with my body. I gazed at Python's awesome serpent tattoo flexing and writhing on his big, powerful biceps. Colin had opened Python's pants, and his thick meaty c.o.c.k rose into the air like an Egyptian obelisk, as hard and unyielding as granite.

I fell instantly to my knees, pulling Python's leather pants from his powerfully built legs and tossing them in a pile. His c.o.c.k was as enormous as I had ever seen. Its size was daunting, but I resolved to do the best I could, to get as much of its majestic girth into my mouth as possible. Python saw my eagerness, and grabbed my head in his broad, calloused hands.

Eat my meat, baby! Take it all... C'mon, it's almost all in! Jus' a little more, c.o.c.ksucker! He hissed, as he pulled my head onto his c.o.c.k. Let's see if your mouth is as good as your f.u.c.kin' asshole is! Only about six inches of his gloriously large phallus had entered my mouth, the rest just wouldn't fit. The pressure of his c.o.c.khead on my throat made me gag. Python held me firmly impaled on his d.i.c.k, but stopped pushing for a second to let me recover.

I sensed Colin coming up behind me. He held my waist and pulled me up onto my feet. I was bent in half, my mouth furiously bobbing on Python's c.o.c.k, my a.s.s raised up in the air as Colin spread my legs wide and guided himself in. I propped myself up in Python's c.h.e.s.t and held on tight as Colin entered my ravaged asshole. I had been f.u.c.k.e.d eight, maybe nine times tonight, but I shook with anticipation of what was still to come...Colin in my a.s.s and Python in my throat!

I knew Colin's c.o.c.k... it was familiar, yet always exciting. He forced the head against my rosy pucker...sharp intense pain as the thick shaft entered me, his foreskin pulled back as it stretched my ring of muscle. He slid himself inch at a time into my body, a long sweet penetration. When he had entirely buried himself in my gut, he stopped.

Colin leaned forward. I felt the weight of his body pressing on my back, his c.o.c.k wedged firmly inside me, as the two men kissed each other. A perfect circle, masculine energy united on an unbroken loop between the three of us. Each man taking what he needed, and giving what was required.

Colin spit in his palm and reached around me, massaging my d.i.c.k as he started to rock himself against my b.u.t.t. Every plunge pushed me harder onto Python's phallus, forcing him hard against my throat. My lips were so chapped and swollen from the action earlier at the BTC, but I didn't care. I was stretched to my limit, front and back, but the pain had subsided into an e.r.o.t.i.c burn. Skewered as I was between these two potent, intoxicating men was a bottom boy's dream! I savored every inch, every moment.

The men continued to make out above me. I reached up and massaged Python's hard pectorals, twisting his n.i.p.p.l.es. He seemed to like that, m.o.a.ning loudly, Colin's tongue deep in his mouth. Colin was now jerking me off in time with his mighty thrusts. I was getting close, and could feel that Python was too. His already thick c.o.c.k was swelling in my mouth, and I felt his ejaculation filling the shaft, ready to erupt in my hungry mouth. I wanted every drop, I wanted to swallow his seed, have him deep inside my belly.

Colin came first, his body shaking in waves of ecstasy as he released himself inside me with an ultimate thrust of his h.i.p.s against mine.

F.u.c.k yeah, what a f.u.c.kin' load, man! I f.u.c.kin' filled you up, baby! He g.r.o.a.n.e.d, his big c.o.c.k popping out of my slippery asshole. I felt his c.u.m slithering down my leg as he continued to jerk me off. I felt my balls tighten, as the sticky stuff rushed up my d.i.c.k and shot onto the b.a.r.e wooden floor beneath me.

I fell forward into Python's l.a.p, shuddering, just as he unloaded himself into me. He had managed to coax his enormous rod far into my mouth, and was now releasing his c.u.m directly into my throat. He started m.o.a.ning something in a language I didn't recognize, but I knew it was all good!

I gagged down as much of the salty, thick e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.e as I could but a lot of it spewed from my mouth and puddled around the base of his c.o.c.k. I pressed my glistening wet face into his wiry pubic hairs, l.i.c.k.i.n.g up the last of Python's precious gel. I was exhausted, but felt really fulfilled... I shot an amazing load thanks to Colin's rough handling of my d.i.c.k, the pool of my c.u.m still slippery and wet at my feet. And these two hot f.u.c.k.i.n.g tops had gotten off deep inside me. A triple o.r.g.a.s.m!

Python stopped mumbling in his swarthy language, jumped out from under my dead weight and strode into the kitchen next to Colin. They stood together, two huge n.a.k.e.d bodies backlit by the dim bulb of the refrigerator as Python pulled out a couple more cold beers.

I glanced down and laughed to see the number 36 still scrawled across my sweat-soaked c.h.e.s.t.