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It was 11pm on a Tuesday, and I was finally leaving my office. We were in busy season, short-staffed as usual, and I had spent 20 hours that week already in my shitty cubicle. I turned on my car, and reluctantly drove out of the garage. I was glad to be leaving, but I knew once I got home I would pass out, wake up, and be right back at work, staring at my bright computer screen all day. To delay the inevitable, I took a longer route home, taking smaller city streets instead of the highway.

I needed a break. I needed to relax.

I needed a drink.

As luck would have it, a block ahead of me a red neon light let me know I was passing a place called Leather Hogs. I wasn’t familiar with it, or the area in general, but the sign promised cheap drinks, and at that moment nothing sounded better than cold beer in a place that wasn’t my apartment or office.

I pulled into the dirt lot, one of only a few cars surrounded by rows of motorcycles. Hoping the rundown establishment took card, I hopped out of my car and walked inside. I was immediately hit by the pungent combination of beer, cigars, and weed, and coughed hard. The room was dark and packed with men all dressed in leather and street clothes. I navigated my way through a couple groups to the bar, sat down, and ordered an IPA, which came out in a grimy mug.

“‘You don’t hang out here much, do you?” growled a deep voice behind me.

I turned in my barstool and looked up at an gruff man in a leather jacket. He was older than me for sure, maybe 40 to my 30 years, but looked good for his age. The seams of his black leather jacket bulged over his biceps. His jacket was open showing a slightly stained white tank that clung tightly to his beefy pecs and rounded muscular belly. His legs were similarly beefy, and the black leather pants led all the way to his black boots. His bald head shone with sweat and his short-cropped beard had beads of beer in it. His blue eyes were bright and piercing. I gulped involuntarily.

“How could you tell?” My voice came out higher than I intended.

He frowned at me. “Most regulars don’t tend to order that.” He hooked his thumb towards my IPA. I looked around the bar and realized it was true. “We also don’t tend to show up in button down shirts and fancy shoes.” Also true, as I looked around at the leather clad men. I instinctively ruffled my hair and loosened my tie. I’d heard of bad things that happened to guys who walked into the wrong bar.

Stupid idea, I thought. I should’ve just gone home.

“You’re a long way from home, boy.” he growled in an even lower voice.

“Look man, I don’t want any kind of tr-” my plea was interrupted by his deep laughter, coming all the way from his belly.

“I’m just fucking with you man. I’m not gonna beat you up just for wearing a tie. I’m Charles, by the way.” I breathed a sigh of relief and he settled into the barstool next to me. Now that we were face to face, I realized how hot he was. He reminded me of a lot of the daddy types that I regularly hooked up with. Or at least the type I used to hook up with before being worked to death. I hoped he couldn’t read my thoughts. Maybe he won’t beat me up for buying the wrong drink, but he DEFINITELY wouldn’t like me hitting on him. Or so I thought.

“I’m Alex, nice to meet you.”

“That’s a nice name. Alex. It does make me wonder though, what’s a preppy guy like you doing on this side of the tracks?” He took a swig of the dark beer in his glass.

“Ah, just wasting some time before having to go to work tomorrow.” I grimaced and explained my dead-end job to the cool biker. He listened thoughtfully the whole time, and by the time I finished, he took the last gulp of his beer.

“That sounds fucking miserable.”

“It’s the worst!” Again, I felt almost childish in my outburst, but my frustration was boiling over. “It’s so stupid, why do I work so hard just to sleep, eat, and work more? I haven’t seen my friends in forever, I haven’t had a vacation in forever.” As I ranted, Charles had been moving his stool closer to mine, until they were practically touching my knees which I had tucked tight together. Charles had his legs spread far apart, and I could see a thick bulge in his crotch. “Sometimes I wish I could just tell my boss…” I realized I had been staring down at his crotch way too long and looked back up into his face, blushing.

“Sounds like you need some fun. Something to take your mind off things,” he said in a low growl.

“Damn right I do.” I pounded the last dregs of my drink, feeling tingly. “But I think I gotta head out now, otherwise I’ll be dead at work tomorrow.” I reluctantly tried turning in my stool, but Charles planted his feet on my stool’s footrest and closed his legs around mine, keeping me in place. He tipped my chin so I stared into his eyes.

“I think I know what you want.” His voice was almost a whisper. “I think I know exactly why you came here.” A shiver went down my spine. He leaned in to my ear, whispering, tuzla escort “And I can give it to you, Alex.” He put his hand on my knee.

My mouth was watering. It had been so long. I hadn’t even had the energy to jack off in the last week, and my begging cock stiffened at his attention.

“Where do you want to go? We can do mine-“. He cut me off.

“Follow me.” He put his hands on my thighs then stood up. I eagerly followed as he pushed his way through the crowd to a door. Standing up I realized he was almost half a foot taller than me. As we passed the pool table, a couple of the other guys whistled, and Charles winked at me. My heart pounded as he pushed open the door and led me into a dark room. He flipped on the light. A single red bulb lit the room. In a past life it was clearly a large storeroom, but it had been renovated into a kind of sex dungeon. A dirty mattress lay in the middle, with different bondage implements lining the wall. A wooden stockade stood in the corner. Before I could take more in, Charles closed the door behind me and ordered, “On your knees.”

I turned to face him. Charles had thrown off his jacket. His meaty arms flexed with every movement. His nipples were hard and peeked out the sides of his tank. Tufts of brown hair sprouted from his chest and armpits. His expression was firm, set, demanding, and I immediately fell to my knees, banging them on the hard floor.

Charles grabbed me by my carefully styled, work-appropriate hair, and pushed my face into his leather crotch. I licked the cigar smelling material, probing the outline of his cock with my tongue, wishing it were free. His bulge was so thick I worried I wouldn’t be able to fit it in my mouth, but I wanted to try. His cock pushed against the leather. All of my exhaustion was forgotten in the adrenaline.

He grabbed me again by my now ruffled hair and pushed me away. I fell to the ground on my ass, and didn’t get up. “Strip.” he commanded. As I pulled off my tie and unbuckled my belt, he went to the wall and selected a chain and collar.

“Too slow,” he grunted as I was sliding my belt out of the hoops. He grabbed it by the end and roughly pulled it away, throwing it carelessly in the corner. Then he ripped my shirt open at the buttons, breaking some of them in the process.

“Hey!” I protested, but he pushed me on the ground again. “Shut up.” He continued forcibly stripping me, dragging off my shoes, socks, and pants, until I was just in my underwear. Now I was blushing embarrassed again, feeling exposed only in my white briefs. Finally he lasped the leather collar around my neck and held the end of the chain leash in his right hand. “That’s better.” He raised the leash, forcing me to my knees as the collar squeezed my neck. I gasped, and looked up into his face. I’d never been treated so harshly before, but my cock had never been harder, and I felt exhilarated. My 7″ cock rebelled against my briefs.

“You want my cock, boy?”

“Yessir.” The words felt natural in my mouth.

He deftly undid a hidden zipper, and the crotch of his biker pants fell to the floor, exposing his rod. It was even bigger than it looked in his pants, and looked monstrous even with a large bush concealing part of his base. Veins ran from tip to base, and it pulsed with desire. His balls hung low and were swollen. I felt like mine were microscopic in comparison. His crotch smelled incredible, sweaty and manly, and I eagerly moved my mouth to his cock. I had to open my mouth as wide as possible, and he slowly pushed his hips towards my face. His cock, dripping with precum, touched my tongue, and I almost orgasmed in pleasure. He tasted as good as he smelled, and a moan rose from my throat. He pushed further, and I lapped at the veins of his shaft as he went deeper. His cock hit the back of my throat and I gagged, but held my place, breathing deep in my nose.

“Good boy.”

He continued pushing until half of his cock was in my mouth, then held it there. He growled in pleasure, and began fucking my mouth, slowly at first, but building his speed quickly until my head was rattling and my uvula was being slapped by his cock every second. He teased my throat, never entering fully. As he held my head in place, I stuck my tongue out fully, tasting his cock closer to the base. My gagging subsided and was replaced by gulping. My moans vibrated his cock and he moaned in turn.

“You have experience, don’t you you little cocksucker?”

I moaned my agreement.

“You want to feel my full cock in your throat, don’t you.”

It wasn’t a question, but I moaned my agreement anyways. He laid me on the ground face up, planted himself above me with his head facing my legs, kneeling on either side of my head, and reentered my mouth from the new angle. I lifted my head up to line up my mouth and throat. He began fucking my mouth as deeply as before, his tip touching the back of my throat. After a üçyol escort minute of this, he pushed deep inside my throat. I felt his cock stretch my throat, starting at the top and slowly pushing down. My breathing stopped as his thick cock filled my throat, and I instinctively stuck out my tongue again. This time, he pushed so far my tongue touched his bush. My eyes watered. My moan was stifled by cock. He pushed the last inch until my face was smothered by his crotch. His ballsack pressed warm against my face, and I could feel the weight of his balls against my now blinded eyes. The leather collar pressed tighter against my swollen neck.

“Fuckkkk, you little bitch. Fuck that feels so good.” Charles moaned as he rested his weight on my face. The seconds passed, and I began to twitch out of my need to breathe. I started gagging and squirming, raising my hands to try to push him, but he grabbed my limp wrists in his strong, capable hands, and pinned me to the floor. Circles swam in my vision, and just before I felt like I was going to faint, he pulled out. I could feel his cock retracting, inch by inch, until my throat then my mouth were clear. I took in deep shuddering breaths, and opened my eyes. My vision was blurry from my tears and constriction, and I shuddered.

“You liked that, didn’t you boy?”

I was still struggling for breath. I was in pain. But it was true. I didn’t just like it. I loved it. The feeling from my head to toes was euphoric.

“Yes, sir” I rasped.

“You want to keep doing, don’t you.”

Again, not a question, but I responded, “Please.”

This time, he did not hold back. He cradled my head under one hand and continued his brutal fucking my mouth. He thrust fully into my throat and back out, over and over. My mouth made an involuntary glugging sound with each thrust, and while my eyes still teared up, streaks of tears now running into my tousled hair, I adjusted to the rhythm, taking small breaths when possible. I was still lightheaded, but it felt good. Streaks of precum were pushed against my mouth and throat, and I greedily swallowed the precious fluid.

I was so preoccupied with my throat being destroyed, I didn’t hear the sound of the door quietly opening and then closing. While Charles continued to pound my face, I felt two more strong hands grab my ankles, and I let out a small scream.

“Shhh. Shhh. It’s ok.” Charles held my head firm, cock in my mouth, until I stopped struggling. “Glad you could join, John.” I heard another deep voice chuckle. “I wouldn’t miss out on the chance to pound some desperate ass, you know that.”

My head held in place, I strained and lowered my eyes to my feet. There was another biker kneeling there, holding my ankles spread apart in the air. He was bigger than Charles, but no less hot and with plenty muscle of his own. He slowly rubbed his thick cock against my briefs, soaked in my own precum. He wore a steel cock ring, a thick prince albert piercing his tip, and had barbells through his nipples. Unlike Charles, John kept his jacket on over his naked chest, but ditched his pants entirely, still keeping his boots on. He grinned at me. “You’re going to have a fun night, boy.”

He continued to rub his cock against mine, and as he did, Charles began drilling my mouth again, still holding my hands down. I couldn’t see what John was doing, only feel him. I could feel the steel ring at the tip of his cock rub against my shaft, the hair on his legs brush against mine. I could hear him growling as he moved, albeit muffled by my own gagging. I eagerly squeezed and wriggled my cheeks, signaling my need. John didn’t need any more of a hint. He ripped my underwear in half, the two tattered sides hanging limply around my thighs. My cock, which I once thought was large but now felt insignificant, sprang free and pointed up. My round cheeks bounced and clapped as he roughly positioned me. He spread my cheeks apart with his hands, then I felt his beard press against my ass as he began to tongue my hole.

I almost cried in pleasure. My throat was being pummeled by Charles and my ass was being greedily licked by John, and the combination of roughness and gentleness, anger and passion, was too much. Without my cock being touched once, I orgasmed, twitching as I feebly oozed cum across my stomach. Some of my week long load flowed from my cock as I shook. John’s tongue moved from my ass to my balls, and licked some of the cum up, moaning in delight.

“This one must be a real slut, cumming like that,” observed John.

“You bet he is. And he’s still got a long night ahead of him,” growled Charles. He had paused his pounding when he saw my twitching cock blow a load, but now that it was over, he began his thrusting again. The wave of orgasmic euphoria didn’t have time to wash through my body before I was once again being fucked. My cock softened and sat untouched, covered in my wasted semen.

John began tonguing my ass again, ulus escort and I was immediately aroused again by their attention. He pushed past my ring and tongued inside my hole, each lick giving me deep pleasure. I moaned around Charles’ cock, and he angrily pounded my mouth harder. His thrusts were now so quick I didn’t have time to breathe until he gave me respite. Every minute or so, he would withdraw, laying his monster cock and balls across my face while I regained my breath, then he would grab my head and resume the pounding.

John withdrew his tongue, and then I felt something hard press against my ass. I was familiar enough with the feeling, but couldn’t help a moan of pain when he pushed in. He wasn’t the longest cock I’d ever taken, but he was the thickest, and his ringed dick stretched my hole to its limits. As he fully entered me, his prince albert rubbed against my prostate, and my cock, still covered in sticky cum, stiffened again.

The two bikers began to fuck me in unison, pounding my ass and mouth at the same time. Charles’ balls slapped my face with each thrust, and John’s slapped my ass cheeks, making them jiggle. Charles had started slapping my face occasionally, making my head dizzy and my cheek sting. I began to squeeze and relax my hole as John pounded me, toying his cock. He grunted louder and louder, until he bellowed and clenched my thighs hard. I felt his cock pulse as he came deep inside me. His cum covered my guts, and the orgasm lasted a whole minute. At last, he pulled out. A thin drizzle of cum leaked out of my used hole, now gaping and begging for more. Charles also pulled out of my mouth, but he hadn’t cum and seemed as sex-crazed as ever.

“You know the drill,” he said to John. John nodded, grabbed a sharpie, and lifting my ass, made a mark on my cheek. He then sat in a chair and began rubbing his cock, staring hungrily, clearly wanting more.

I was laying on the floor, exhausted but exhilarated. “I think it’s time we really tested you.” Charles said, staring down at me. If what I just went through wasn’t a test, I shuddered at what he meant. With ease, Charles scooped me up in his burly arms and lay me down on the mattress. I realized with embarrassment I hadn’t even moved to the mattress, instead just fucking on the floor like an animal. The shame made me harder.

Charles moved as if to leave the room, then turned around. “Urinal still broken?” he asked John. John nodded with a grin. Charles sighed, then pointed his hard cock at me. A jet of piss hit me in the face, and I gasped. Some of the salty fluid came in my mouth, and I had no choice but to swallow it. He continued releasing on my, spraying across my body, until the urine dripped from his tip onto my head. “Ahh, that’s better.” He left the room, and a minute later, came back in with five more men. They hooted and hollered as they saw me ruined on the mattress. One was smoking a cigar. Two had big glasses of half-drunk beer.

“Looks like we’ve got a fun one!” said one towards the back.

“Just remember the rules fellas!” said Charles, and then they were on me. I didn’t have time to move or resist, not that I wanted to. Two grabbed my arms and legs while the others lined up in front of my ass. I felt my neck pulled, and looking up saw Charles loop the end of my leash through a bracket in the wall. The men entered me one after the other, each massive and brutal with their fucking. Just as one was about to cum, he would pull out and rotate, letting another hard man thrust into me. I moaned and screamed, alternating between begging for more and begging for release. They played with my body, slapping my cheeks, pulling my nipples, spitting in my mouth.

“Take it faggot!”

“Your hole is asking for it, bitch!”

“Beg for my cum, slut!”

They degraded and humiliated me. One poured his beer over my head, stinging my eyes and wetting my hair. Another blew his cigar into my face, making me cough. They took turns pissing and spitting in my mouth, and I gratefully swallowed their liquid, needing the fluid. I went in an out of consciousness, my body exhausted. I orgasmed more times than I could count, and by the end my cock was pitifully dribbling cum as I writhed. I don’t know how long the gangbang lasted, only that one time I came to, and a shorter muscle pig was fucking me, then moaned loudly, and I knew they were finally unloading in me. One by one, they took my hole for a final fuck, blowing their hot, heavy loads. My insides squirmed, my ass was covered in cum, and one by one they marked another tally on my cheek. At last, the final biker, a strung out, lanky addict-looking guy, came deep in me. The men let go of my limbs, and I collapsed on the mattress, shaking.

One by one, the other men left the room, until it was just me and Charles once again. He walked over slowly, his boots sticky in piss and cum from the floor. He stood by my head, and I rolled my eyes to look at him, too exhausted to turn my head. He planted his boot on my face. “Lick it. Lick it clean.” With a monstrous effort, I stuck out my tongue, and began to lick the bottom of his boot. I loved the taste, and cried as I moaned. He shifted his feet, and I cleaned the other boot. Finally, he stood in front of me. “You’re in no shape to drive tonight. I think I’ll take you home. Don’t you agree?”

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