Leather Skin Biker

Since the Chicago Eagle closed at the end of the summer, I’ve been spending more time at Jackhammer (The Hole). I’ve been having some fun there visiting with friends and making new ones. Jackhammer has come a long way since I first patronized the place in 2006. They added “The Hole,” which is the basement bar. It is kind of amazing that it was not until about a month ago that I finally visited “The Hole.” I have to say that I’m glad I did.

It’s an interesting place, “The Hole.” There is a decent size bar, a tub for watersports, a St. Andrew’s cross for flogging and such, and a row of urinals lined up across from the bar. There is a short wall on which the urinals are attached, so men can piss and still see the bar and the crowd, and depending how close other men are, it’s easy to see the men pissing. I really enjoy that feature of the place. There is also a long narrow backroom, which I will say more about later.

I had heard some time ago that “The Hole” serves “recycled beer,” so I asked the bartender about that. He told me that they do, indeed, serve recycled beer, but that he would have to make some for me. That having been said, I made it a point of checking back in with him from time to time, and eventually he had a fresh batch ready. So he came around from behind the bar, walked over near the tub, and pulled out his cock. I crouched down, took his cock in my mouth, and then he fed me the whole load of his freshly made man piss. It was good. Since then, he always remembers me when I come to the bar.

Last Saturday night me and my boy went to “The Hole,” and met a couple of our friends there. The energy that night was just odd somehow. I wasn’t really feeling it so much, but didn’t want to leave, so we stayed. I think it was the late start that kind of threw things off. I had used and abused smokedog earlier in the evening, and that put us behind schedule for the bar. But more about my reconnection with smokedog in another post. Suffice to say that we arrived late and the energy was just kind of weird.

After meeting up with our friends and chit chatting a bit, my slave asked me if he could have permission to venture into the backroom. I told him it would be fine. So that left me to roam about, check out the upstairs bars, etc. I made a quick run upstairs and there really wasn’t anything of interest up there. For me, it’s all about “The Hole,” down in the basement. So I was just sipping a Heineken outside the entrance to the backroom when this guy steps out and stands next to me. I took a quick look at his face, and had the distinct feeling that I knew him from somewhere. After a couple of minutes, I just turned to him and asked him if I knew him from somewhere. Then it clicked. This was a guy I had chatted with online for over two years. We had never met before, but I recognized the face. As soon as I heard his online ID, then it all came together.

So this guy was nice looking, about 5 feet 10 inches tall, I would say. He had a nice smile, and it became obvious very quickly that he liked what he saw. He gave me a lot of compliments and smiled quite a bit too. I’m not opposed to men showing their appreciation for me, as my regular readers are probably well aware. I needed to piss, so told him I was heading over to the open urinal area. He decided to follow me, which was cool. He kind of hung out behind me while I pissed. It felt right.

Not long after that, he asked me if I needed another beer. By that time I did, so he bought me one. I would guess that probably 30 or 40 minutes had passed since my slave went into the backroom, and I suggested we step into the backroom, just to see if there were anything “interesting” going on back there. It was so full that I couldn’t even see my slave. I wasn’t sure he was still back there, but I had heard from one of my friends who had been in the backroom that he saw him. In any case, me and my online friend just kind of hung out a bit and took in the ambience. The backroom is dimly lit, humid, and smells of sweat and cum. There is an unwritten code against loud talking. Most men observe that code. Generally, the only sounds one hears are those of men slurping on other men’s cocks, or the pounding of hard cock into warm, wet, hungry hole. It’s not an altogether unpleasant environment for a pig like me.

My friend was standing with his back against the wall, and I was basically standing about six inches in front of him. He started to grope my crotch, and I reached down to find that his fly was unzipped, so I reached in and felt his cock and balls. At just about that time, my slave appeared, standing next to me, sweated and looking thirsty. I asked him if he’d like a drink. He replied yes, and so I gave him some money to go get a drink. With my slave put on that task, I focused back on my Internet friend. I rearranged him, so that I was leaning against the wall with him standing in front of me. I started pressing down on his head, and he complied with my request by dropping down to his knees slowly. On the way down he sucked on my left nipple. What I had in mind was him sucking something down lower.

Keep in mind that the space was still full, and that there was a guy getting a blow job standing immediately to my left. The guy sucking him had reached over and felt my cock. On my immediate right was a guy with a bottle of poppers. He had also felt my cock, was pressing himself in pretty close to me and my Internet friend. Finally, my online buddy got down to his knees and took my cock in his mouth. He was a very good cocksucker, and made it easy for me to thrust into his throat. Just as I put my hands on his head and continued thrusting, the guy standing to my right offered me poppers. I inhaled deeply through each nostril, and held them in long enough before exhaling to make sure I’d get a buzz off them. Slightly high on poppers, I kept thrusting into his throat, and couldn’t hold back any longer. With a loud moan I let go of my hot load. I felt my ejaculation pulsing into his warm mouth, and he sucked every drop out of me, and swallowed it all down. Not one drop wasted. My Internet bud got back up on his feet pretty quickly, and said, “That tasted great.”

I zipped up my leather jeans and stepped back out into the bar area, now very thirsty myself. I ordered a beer for myself and one for my slave from my new best friend, the recycled beer bartender. It wasn’t long after that when I decided I was ready to go. So we went back upstairs to the coat check, who happens to be a hunky, built, friendly boy. Always a pleasure doing business with that one. With coat retrieved, tight leather cop gloves back on, me and my slave were off. Another fun evening at “The Hole.” I look forward to my next visit.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, November 25th, 2008 at 9:34 pm and is filed under Backrooms, Cum, Fucking, Internal, Swallowing, Unwrapped, Watersports.