I’d just ridden into San Francisco from the East Bay on a cold, foggy Sunday afternoon.

Thank God I had worn leather head to toe. The chill on the bridge was no joke.

I parked my cruiser out in front of the old Hole in The Wall, a notorious gay biker bar.

Opening the windowless door, I stepped inside and a blast of hot air surrounded me. Hard rock pounded out from overhead speakers.

The place was pretty dark. There looked to be about ten people hanging out.

The bar’s layout was what you might call a shotgun setup, long and narrow – the kind of place someone could kill everyone with a single shotgun blast.

Five feet from the door, a pool table sat in the middle of the room. To the right of the door was a long bar. To the left of the door was a wall with a couple of barber chairs and pinball machines. The back third of The Hole was a dark empty room, with benches on the walls. I learned later that people called it the Play Space.

Every inch of the walls were covered in street signs, rock posters, photos of naked men, stickers, and more.

The heat was stifling. The bar smelled like old beer, man funk, and weed, which was steadily being smoked in the play space.

I tossed my leather jacket onto a bar stool and greeted the blonde bartender. He wore a jockstrap and tennis shoes.

“Howdy, stud. What can I get you?”

“Hi there.” I smiled at the sexy young dude. “I’ll take a draft, and some quarters for the pool table.”

“Sure thing. It’s a dollar off for guys with bike helmets” He served the beer and asked, “New in town, mister?”

“Yeah, I live in the East Bay and this is my first trip into the city.”

“You picked a cold fucking day for a ride, friend.”

“Yeah, no shit. If not for all this leather, I’d have frozen my dick off.”

“That would have been a cryin’ shame. Welcome to San Francisco. My name’s Chad.”

“I’m Doug. Nice to meet you.”

“If you’re going to play pool, the rule today is, no pants, just so you know.”

“Um, okay. It’s hot as fuck in here, so that works for me.”

“If you’ll have a shot with me, I’ll shoot a game with you. Jerry can cover the bar for me.”

He poured two shots of bourbon and we knocked them back.

“Sounds good, Chad. I’ll rack ’em.”

“Perfect! You look great in those leather pants, but they do need to come off your sexy ass.”

I took off my engineer boots, stripped down to my leather jock and a tank top, and stepped back into my boots.

“Oooh, now we’re talkin’ baby! Nice leather jock.” said Chad. “Grab a stick and let’s get to it.”

I racked the balls and Chad broke. Nothing went in.

“Tough break,” I said.

I stepped up to the table and knocked in four balls pretty quickly, then scratched.

“You’re solids, Chad.”

Chad almost ran the table on me. His tight little smooth ass looked tasty bent over the table.

He hit in all of his balls and missed the eight.

“Damn, man. I have my work cut out for me.”

With Chad’s balls off the table, I had a pretty good setup. I pocketed all of my remaining balls and nailed the eight ball, winning the game.

“Good game, Chad.” We shook hands.

“Well, aren’t you a big shooter, Doug!? Thanks for the game. Can you go again?”

“I can usually go again, yeah. And yes, I’ve been told I’m a big shooter.” We chuckled at my cheesy joke.

“How about another bourbon, on me?”

“Sounds good!” We downed a couple more shots and I grabbed another beer.

“Rack ’em, man,” I said. I was starting to feel a little tipsy.

Chase set up the balls and before he pulled the rack away, he said, “Wanna play for top?”

“Sure, buddy. I’m game.” I was fairly certain he was joking.

The music was rockin’ and we were having a great time. I stepped up to the table and cracked the balls.

I dropped one stripe and one solid.

“Nice, break, man.”

“Thanks, let’s see if I can work with this clusterfuck.” The balls were clumped together in weird ways, and the eightball was right next to a side pocket.

I managed to hit two solids in, and missed my next shot.

Chad, chalked his cue stick and walked around the table. He was cute. His ass looked fantastic, and he had barbell piercings in his nipples.

Despite his slender frame, or maybe because of it, the dude’s jockstrap looked a bit too small for his package.

Chad chose a shot that caused him to reach for it. He bent over and cocked a leg up onto the edge of the table. His little hole winked at me from between his buns. I wanted to bury my tongue.

He shot, and missed. “Fuck, man. I think your eyes on my hole distracted me.” He laughed. “Your shot, studmuffin.”

He had a slight lisp, which I found adorable. He was my favorite kind of flirty bottom.

I hit in two more balls, then the cue ball rolled across and knocked the eightball into the side pocket. Shit. I’d lost the game.

“I didn’t expect to win like that, Doug. It looks like you’re the lucky bottom tonight!”

“He, he. You’re funny, man.”

“Hey, a bet’s a bet, buddy.” He smiled warmly. “I don’t joke about fucking.” He could tell I was surprised that he had been serious. “Tell you what, let’s head to the back and smoke a joint. Maybe we can negotiate.” He gave me a wicked smile.

Chad went behind the bar and handed me two more beers. He grabbed a joint, a lighter, and a small bottle of lube. He really was serious. Things were getting interesting.

I pulled my jacket off the bar stool and followed him into the dim back room. We sat in the corner. Chad fired up the joint and passed it to me. I’m not a big smoker, but I took a puff, and held it.

We both exhaled and Chad took another toke, passing the joint back to me. I held it for a few seconds, then took a second hit. That shit was tasty, and strong. I coughed a bit.

“Good shit, man.” I passed him the joint.

“Thanks. It’s indoor. I grew it myself. It was a great crop this year.”

“Cool, that sounds like a fun hobby.”

“Hobby, nothing. It’s a business.”

I was pretty high and more than tipsy. “That’s enough for me, man.”

Chad sat set the joint on the bench beside him. He hopped to his feet and stood between my legs, his hands on my thighs.

“Let me give you a proper SF welcome, you sexy fucker.”

He leaned in and kissed my lips, I opened my mouth and our tongues danced. His hands fondled my jock pouch. My hands massaged his tight butt.

We made out and my cockhead poked out the top of my jock. Chad’s thumb rubbed my head.

I pulled him closer, our crotches touching. My teeth tugged one of his piercings.

“Fuck yeah, man, tug on my tit. Pull it hard.” He ground his dick into mine. “You’re so fucking hot, biker man.”

I reached into my jacket and pulled out some poppers.

Chad said, “Oh, hell yeah, man!”

I handed him the bottle and he held it to his nose, taking in a deep breath.

Taking the bottle from him, I did the same.

We kissed again, our hard cocks grinding, our heads spinning.

Chad reached over and grabbed the lube. Next thing I knew, he was shoving a finger into my ass without ceremony. It felt great. I moaned into his mouth.

“Oooh, daddy likes, does he?”

He slid a second finger into me. I don’t bottom, so it took effort to jam two fingers inside my ass.

“You’re tight, buddy.”

“I’m not a bottom, so yeah, I probably am. Go easy, fuck!”

“You’re a bottom tonight, baby.” He found my prostate and pressed it hard.

“Ooof. Is this your idea of negotiating?”

“No, this is.” He extracted his fingers and whipped out his cock.

Chad’s dick had felt big when we frotted, but I was not prepared for just how thick he was. My cock is a good size and this skinny dude had me beat in length and definitely in width.

Chad poured lube into his hand and greased up his rod.

“I don’t know, man.” I was suddenly very unsure about the situation. “You’re pretty big. I don’t think this’ll work.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard that. I’m sure bottoms have said that to you too, right? You’re pretty big too. But it always fits, doesn’t it.” I nodded. But I wasn’t so sure.

“Stand up, buddy. It’ll be easier for both of us that way.”

I stood and he turned me around. I was bent over the bench, supported by my arms.

Chad handed me the brown bottle. “Take a big hit of those poppers.”

I inhaled the chemicals and held my breath. Just as I exhaled, Chad stepped close and positioned his cock at my hole.

He pushed slightly into my ring, backed out, then pushed hard and steady. His fat meat squeezed into me.

The poppers had me relaxed, but I still felt it.

“Fuck, man. You’re fucking huge. Gimme a second, huh?”

Chad reached around and squeezed my dick. “Fuck yeah, daddy. You’re so hard with my cock in your tight little asshole. He pushed further into my depths.

I cried out, “Oh, man, fuck that feels…I’m so full. It’s so, so fucking good.” His girth filled me completely. I pushed my ass back every time he leaned his dick into me.

“Yes, buddy, now we’re fucking!” His hand slapped my ass hard. “Hot, meaty biker ass, man. Take that fat cock.” I dropped my chest to the bench. “Yes, man, bend over for me.”

He worked his ridiculous hog in and out of my hole. I breathed hard and took it, hoping he wasn’t casusing permanent damage.

“Lift your leg up onto the bench. Yeah, just like that. Now you’re really open for me, man.”

His cock worked my guts over, pounding into me relentlessly. I realized how good bottoms must feel when I’m fucking them. It was incredible, how my ass wanted more and more of his dick.

The familiar urge to cum centered itself in my groin. My hole was squeezing then distending, squeezing, then distending.

“That’s it, man. Work that virgin hole on my dick. Fuck yeah, man. I’m gonna fuck the cum right outa you.”

Chad wasn’t wrong. My dick wasn’t even fully hard, but I knew I was gonna cum. He was hitting my insides just right and I felt my orgasm hit.

Bam! I filled my jock with shot after shot of hot cum. It kept oozing out of my soft dick. My entire back passage spasmed and milked Chad’s amazing cock.

“I feel you cumming, man, that’s so fucking good. I’m close, buddy.”

He grabbed my hips and really laid into me. He was frantic, grunting and groaning.

“Ahh, filling you up, man. Fucker, take my load.” Chad speared into me hard, three times, knocking the air from my lungs. He shook and wailed, “Fuuuuck, man!”

My ass was stuffed. Cum dripped from my jock pouch. Damn, I thought: I really just got fucked in the back of a bar. I was definitely planning to explore bottoming more.

Chad pulled his cock from my battered ass. It gaped, Cum poured from my hole.

“Beautiful, man. Your tiny pucker aint so tiny any more. Yeah, push my load out, man. So hot.”

He stuck a couple of finger in me and felt my slimy passage.

“Yeah, buddy, I loaded you up good.”

I stood, turned around, and grabbed my beer. Cold suds had never tasted better.

Chad smiled and kissed me. “You did pretty well, Mr. I’m Not A Bottom. How’d it feel getting fucked?”

“Honestly, I loved it. My ass still tingles, like it wants more.”

“Ah, yes, they don’t call me The Bottom-Maker for nothing. I’d fuck you again, but I got nothing left in the tank.”

“Bottom Maker, indeed. You certainly turned me out.”

“What do you say we play another game? It’ll be the best two out of three. Loser will host the other, at some point in the near future.”

“I’m game!”

We walked back out to the front of the bar. His cum squelched between my cheeks.