Son of the Playhouse

Valerie's friends became gradually more and more beside themselves, staring openly at my crotch while they chattered, yet they acted like I was not in on their growing lust -- they made like they weren't really staring, getting louder and laughing a lot. Of course, I saw right thru them as well. While I stared at Valerie's enormous bosoms swaying, they leered at my growing discomfort. Everybody was pleased as punch.

I was dressed for the occasion. My slacks were thin, snug, and of a soft material, and they hugged my ass cheeks and swollen front. When the women finally finished their game, it was my turn to rack and I squatted to lift the balls out from the end of the table. I spilled them into the rack, then stood and bent forward over the table to tighten them before lifting the rack off the triangle. I spread my legs as I bent over the table to tighten the rack and I could feel Valerie's friends eyeing my ass ... I knew my slacks were just right against my heavy balls, highlighting them, and as I bent I could feel their eyes up under me and on my balls, sizing them up and maybe even wanting to reach over and give them a bawdy squeeze. The loudness of their laughter made the whole game so obvious . . .

One of Valerie's friends even emitted a low whistle while I was bent over and that was music to my ears. The touch of their glances on the fabric that caressed my fat, hanging testicles was so palpable a shiver ran down my spine. At any second I expected to feel a hand groping me under my butt, but when I looked for Valerie after I'd finished racking, she had gone over to the jukebox. I stared over at her where she stood punching in the selections ... I couldn't stop staring at how broad and inviting Valerie's magnificent ass was, till I noticed someone else . . .

The other woman was standing there also, bending over to scan the selections. She was wearing a long skirt that fell almost to her ankles, but there was no way of concealing the spellbinding broad girth of those incredible hips -- she leaned at the jukebox with her legs spread, just as mine had been, but it was the heft and spread of her hams that drew my eye. Her hip cheeks were lusty loaves awaiting the test of taste, and the way she was bent into the box made those great loaves thrust out, high and full. My cock grew ever heavy and prominent as I fantasized giving my oral talents to those generous charms. I knew that when and if I ever sank my miraculous tongue in there, that gal would groan like ... like a day spent falling slowly from the sky, like a night spent rising slowly from the bottom of sea . . . she wouldn't know what hit her, and I wouldn't be able to get rid of her. My tongue was already a good two inches longer than it had been, close to six inches by now. It was strong and nimble, triple-jointed or so it seemed, and still growing! And what I wanted to do, staring at both extraordinary women bent to pick songs off the box, was sink my tongue deeply where the sun don’t shine . . .

Without knowing what I was doing, I found myself walking over to where she leaned, pulled by the gravity of those enormous buttocks which reared out behind her so that I had to edge very carefully around them… I pretended to be looking for the chalk and I brushed her hips lightly as I passed. They were without doubt the largest, lushest pair of cheeks I had seen since my transformation had started happening, and I was certain we were meant for each other! Out of the corner of my eye I noticed her look sharply around at me, then turn back to the jukebox.

Oh but my obsession with enormous buttocks was making me careless, so that I had to mentally kick myself, else I would be found out as the hungry, worshipful sap I was. I chalked my cue tip carefully as Valerie swung into her break, hitting the balls squarely and with a solid loud whack! that showed her athleticism. She didn't make any balls off her break, but the power of her stroke was undeniable.

"You go, girl!" the Black gal called out. The balls were nicely spread around the table, but I was in no hurry and missed after making just one.

"Are you laying down on me?" Valerie teased. "Not yet," I grinned. The gals hooted at this. Valerie got a look of serious intent on her face as she bent to her shot. She held her posture longer than I thought was necessary, so long that I figured she was teasing me back. Her heavy breasts swayed hypnotically, their tips just touching the green felt as she kept slowly stroking. No one spoke, so that it seemed everyone else was also entranced by her. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed even the woman in the long skirt over at the jukebox had turned to stare. When Valerie finally let the tip of her stick glide thru the cueball, everyone exhaled. She made the shot, then made a couple more before missing. And each time she had lined up a subsequent shot, she continued to take her time, teasing us all. When she finally stood up and backed away from the table her nipples were prominent under her sweatshirt. She knew how to perform, and she was proud of how she’d caught us all. So that even though my prick stayed hard, it was as if I'd just lost my audience. Valerie was like an old time stripper who strutted her stuff with skillful indirection. We stayed glued to her every deliberate move, each of us excited by her in our own way.

Toward the end of the game the cueball was in a difficult place on the table so that I had to lean to it awkwardly. To make it easier, I had to lift my leg along the rail, standing on one foot. Once again my ass and balls were on display, taking the attention back from Valerie. As deliberate as she had been, I held my posture longer than necessary, slowly moving my stick back and forth. Except for the music on the jukebox, the room grew still and tense. I drew it out even longer, continuing the slow swing of my stick and savoring the attention. Getting my audience back, I even licked my lips, and did so in such a way that Valerie’s two seated pals saw my true gift. I let my tongue curl down under my chin, teasing them. My secret weapon, and I silently gloated. The seated gals stopped laughing.

From where she had been standing, Valerie did not see me lick my chin that way . . . she was getting impatient, wondering what the hell was going on. When Valerie took the butt end of her cuestick and wedged it roughly up under my ass against my balls, it was with just enough force to cause me real pain.

Startled, I jumped back off the rail, reflexively clutching at the pain, making it seem that the hurt was greater than it was. Truth be known, it hurt a lot, what with my balls already being in such a swollen condition, but not as much as I made it seem. The gals were again laughing and hooting loudly, but Valerie rushed up to me with a look of concern that was also fake.

"Oh, I'm so sorry ... I was just kidding around!" she said, "Does it hurt so much?"

I looked into her eyes, but they were not at all truly sympathetic. There was mischief mingled with a strong taste of triumphant cruelty flickering deeply in those married woman eyes. She’d imbibed just enough merry booze to reveal the edgy unbridled side of herself. Disguising my true hurt, I painted a look of controlled alarm upon my face, pretending to be brave.

"It's ok," I managed, "just give me a second." "Take all the time you need, honey ... I can wait," she said. Cruel, fat, married bitch. She strode over and stood by her pals. I tried to walk it off, passing the gal in the long skirt, who had by then taken a seat by the jukebox. I could tell she hadn't seen my tongue either. She looked me over candidly, staring at my hand that was still cupped protectively at my crotch. When her eyes lifted, there was definite interest, but tinged with amusement.

"That wasn't very nice of her," the woman in the long skirt said. She crossed her legs then, hiking her hemline high enough that I could at least see her calves. Despite my discomfort, or maybe because of it, I could have sunk to my knees right then and licked her calf, it was so beautiful and full. "Maybe you should give it a rest for awhile, Honey. Concede the game and take a seat. Give yourself a break."

I stared at her, considering her advice, well aware that she was hitting on me. I put up my cue, telling Valerie, "I think I'm overmatched," and then I walked over to the bar and carefully got onto a barstool. My testicles still smarted, so I sat gingerly on the edge of the stool with my legs widespread. I wondered more about the gal in the long skirt than about Valerie, and then, still laughing loudly, the three gals strolled out of the bar. Glancing at them, I saw a look of appreciative wonder on the dirty blonde's face. And the Black gal murmured, "Licked the girls and made them cry!" As Valerie passed, she just had to mock me: "I truly am sorry, sweetie, but you really left yourself open for that one! Such a nice butt you have -! How could I resist? Try keeping both feet on the floor next time!" In my pride, I silently cursed her on her way, but in my abject libido I silently cried out for her to stay.

I nursed my beer and stared at my reflection in the mirror behind the bar. The humiliation I felt was not the kind that gave me secret pleasure. I just felt crummy and sad. I ordered another and was almost done with it when the barmaid, Jolene, sat yet a third one in front of me. Jolene was a good gal who knew I worked as the Friendly Man over at Secrets. "It's from the lady," she said, nodding back at the woman in the chair with the long skirt. "I didn't see what went down, but she said you were sorely taken advantage of ... she wanted you to know we're not all such bad asses."

I looked back, prepared to raise my bottle in thank you, but the woman in the chair was not looking my way. I walked back to the men’s room, still hoping to catch her eye, but still she was looking the other way. I wondered if she was ignoring me, but then out of the corner of my eye I saw that her long skirt had risen higher, up to her kneecaps now. I knew that if I bent lower, I could probably caress her underthighs with my eyes, but I resisted that temptation . . .

I went into a stall in the men’s room and dropped my britches, checking to see if Valerie's rough nudge had left a mark. Tenderly lifting my sac, I could see no evidence of her unkind act. Ever since I’d been hung from the wall up at the Playhouse, with a vibrating butt plug up my ass so they could milk ungodly loads of my cum over and over again, my testicles had swollen and had kept generating sperm in unprecedented amounts, so that sperm just kept backing up in me, causing my balls to become so engorged and huge. It also made them extremely sensitive, which Valerie had so cavalierly discovered. I cupped each heavy testicle in turn and they both seemed as full and ready as they had ever been, just as throbbingly primed with juice as ever. Oh how I longed to unload!

I was surprised that my cock was also still up, and I smiled to myself at that, aware that for me pain and humiliation were two-sided -- the more I considered it, the more it all seemed not such a bad thing after all. When I emerged from the john, my spirits were back. Feelings of having been mistreated had passed. I decided that the only really bad thing that had happened was that I hadn't been prepared, that I was just too surprised to get off on Valerie's nasty wee deed when it had happened ... had I known what was coming, I'd probably have lifted higher and spread wider, and even stayed with my posture awhile longer after the hit, inviting another!

Coming out of the john, I looked to the long-skirted gal, but she was nowhere to be seen. I asked Jolene if she'd gone and learned she had indeed left the bar. But Jolene told me the gal's name was Marlene. She also said she’d let Marlene know I worked the afternoon shift at Secrets. I winked at Jolene, eyeballing her figure appreciatively, and told her I owed her one.

"One what?" Jolene laughed. "Just what is it a Friendly Man does to earn his keep over at Secrets?"

"I just try to pay attention to the bottom line," I replied. "Melannie appreciates my attention to the basics." Again, I let my eyes rove down over Jolene's full-figured abundance. "You can drop by anytime - my treat!" I was pretty sure Jolene had a perfectly accurate notion of my usefulness to the Secrets agenda, and I was quite willing to give her a free demonstration.

"Whatever... " Jolene offered, but I noted the edgy glint in her eyes. To bring out a woman's deeply suppressed will to dominance was my mission in life, the low rung on the sexual/social ladder that I occupied with such eager aplomb. That edgy look that crept into Jolene's eyes was the confirmation of my usefulness to inhibited women. They all needed a Friendly Man to abase and abuse, one who could return their avid interest with fervent adoration, always asking for more, begging for more, giving it up enthusiastically. I was a bar-star to all their lowest aspirations. Hard to beat. Easy to beat. And one hell of a sap for big ass!

I left Jolene a generous tip and savored the distinct possibility that I might be seeing her, and also the heavy goddess Marlene and those enormous hips of hers, again soon. I vowed inwardly to stay well prepared for that eventuality. No more rough surprises from the rear that caught me so off guard. Or at least none that I couldn't get off on and ask for more of.

When I told the tale to Melannie the following morning, she seemed strangely indignant. She was nude on her back on the weights bench and I was standing near her head, spotting her to make sure she didn't have an accident. Melannie was sweating profusely, the juices making her body shine.

"Squat little bitch with big titties, eh? If I see her, I'll cut one off and feed it to her, the cunt!"

I was bare-chested, wearing gym shorts with no jock strap, the way Melannie liked when I assisted her in her training ... she liked to stare up under my shorts at my privates while she worked out. Not that Melannie was much of a cock lover, far be it -- she just liked to monitor my states of arousal. Whenever my dick would start to get hard, she'd start telling me how bad she was going to fuck my ass when she got done with her lifting. It would make her exercise all the more vigorously, actually, and the more vigorously Melannie worked out, the harder I got. I liked her hard breathing, and I liked it when she sweated a lot. I always lapped her out when she finished, and the wetness was tart and savory. A distinct treat.

"I got a new strap-on for you, Lover, thickest one I ever found, about a foot long," she panted as she hefted the weights. "When my day gal opens up, she's gonna wonder why you're so bowlegged today ... knowing her, she'll probably be all sympathetic ... I bet you really liked the feel of the butt end of that cue socking your balls, eh?"

Blushing, I looked down at her and wanted to start eating her out right then, while the sweat was still flowing and her skin was hot from her efforts. My ass was hungry for the thick new strap-on, and I was having flashbacks of being up on the rail at Dillinger's, with Valerie jamming the butt end of her cue into me. I started breathing shallowly and Melannie noticed.

"Hotter'n a pistol, balls like grapefruits, dick all stretched and bobbing ... I'd say my Friendly Man's ready for some deep butt fucking," she growled, rising from the bench. She strode over to her desk and bent over it, leaning across it to a drawer that she opened and reached into. Bent over the desk that way, her strong cheeks were high and out-thrust and I quickly knelt behind her, opening my jaws wide and pressing the length of my tongue up into the sweaty canyon between them. I was tasting the rivulets of sweat running down into the crack of her ass when Melannie suddenly pushed back vigorously and sent me sprawling. She turned around, in her hand the fierce new strap-on . . . I looked up at it in awe. It was indeed longer and thicker than the others she'd used on me.

She held its apple-headed tip down against my lips, forcing me to suck. I knew that the wetter I got it, the easier it would slide into me, so I opened wide and slicked the thing thoroughly. She then belted it in place around her waist, adjusting its straps so it rode down against her cunt, so that when she fucked me its specially contoured backside would rub against her clit. I got to my feet and stepped quickly out of my gym shorts and went over to the bench, spreading myself, lowering my face and lips to the still-wet bench and raising my buttocks high.

I sniffed and licked at Melannie's sweaty bench as the big tool worked its way relentlessly deeper into my bowels. She grabbed hold of my sides for better leverage and the thing sank wholly up into my ass. Very quickly my passage adjusted to the invader, and chills of ecstatic pleasure rocked thru me. Melannie panted and cursed, building up a steady steaming deep rhythm that soon had me panting as well. We were both moaning as Melannie's strokes gained in strength -- she was frigging her cunt with its motion while she fucked my brains out, and tears fell from my eyes, mixing in with Melannie's own sweat already on the bench. I looked back under my own thighs as Melannie's vigor reamed into me relentlessly and I watched as my heavy balls swung crazily beneath the gut-wrenching power of those brutally bawdy & pitiless strokes. What joy!

After the long reaming, Melannie pulled the thing out and it gave an audible pop! as it sprang free. She spun me onto my back onto the wet bench and she swung a leg over and squatted her sweaty ass upon my face. Her big bad dildo slapped down onto my chest as my tongue disappeared up into the butter and jam of her hungry anal ring. She tensed her sphincter and I was caught snug and tight. She tightened even more and then began lifting, pulling on my tongue so that my head was pulled upwards off the bench. She began a series of lifts and lowers, clenching on my tongue, holding my tongue up inside her ass, banging my head down onto the bench then yanking it back up again, over and over as she swooned into a series of butt-hole orgasms. I loved to feel the spasms in her rectum as it enclosed my tongue when those orgasms came on. I’d feel well used and well tended, but then she suddenly let her sphincter relax and my tongue slipped easily out of her. I licked around my lips and left my tongue just hanging there. I must have made quite the obscene spectacle, what with that long hanging tongue and my face greased and sloppy from the copious flow of Melannie’s work-out inspired juices.

Melannie never permitted me to touch myself to get off (she had other ways to take my cum) so I laid uncomfortably on the bench while she showered. My balls had commenced to throb in their familiar achy way as I listened to her shower. When she came out all sopping wet she squatted her now immaculate cunt directly onto my mouth. I knew what was coming and opened wide to drink from her pussy lips. Her piss was hot and sprayed over my fat tongue and down my throat in a pressurized stream. I didn't waste a drop, and Melannie laughed delightedly when she lifted off my face. She called her piss my aperitif, my toast and my reward, and in truth her hot golden nectar never failed to intoxicate and invigorate me.

"Better get your own shower now, bub ... Doris the day girl's due any minute."

After I'd showered, I stood at one of the two-way mirrors, watching Melannie out in the bar, getting things ready at the cash register. I adored her, tall and strong and bawdy and demanding woman that she was. Damn my hide, it felt like love. What an honor to receive from and to give to such a wondrous lady. I was one lucky guy, I decided.

Doris was in the ladies room so I walked over to that mirror and watched her as I dried off. The blue ache in my groin was very strong as I watched her apply her make-up. The aching was my ally, that very discomfort a sensation borne of controlled, pent-up frustration, a sign of my denial and of my devotion. I relished how the pain radiated from my lower manhood, for yes, it was the very proof of my useful and ennobling submission to my betters.