.....He pushed my head down so my chest was right on the sticky bar stool. Then he cuffed me so that the connecting chain went around behind the bar-stool pole. I heard guys laughing but could only see a foot rail and the toes of a bunch of boots. 
.....Then he yanked up on the waistband of my Levi’s and I felt the knife blade. The fucker sliced right through my favorite belt and all the way down my left pant leg like they were butter. I felt the cool air rush onto my balls & asshole.
.....He yanked down the right pant leg and I was exposed to the whole damn bar. I started to put my feet together but he grabbed my sack, put the blade to it and said, “I don’t think so pup!” More laughs.
.....“Spread ‘em punk!”, he bellowed. Not being in any position to argue, I spread my feet as far apart as I could. He kicked my boots wider. My dick was hard as a hunk of rebar.
.....He grabbed both cheeks and must’ve put his face within inches of my hole ‘cause I could feel his hot breath. I heard, and felt, the hot spittle at the same time. He shoved in one finger, then two, then three in as many seconds.
.....“Looks like we got us a real pro here lads!” he laughed. He twisted his fingers around one way, then the other. Then he curled them into me, fingertips up, and lifted me clear up off the floor. I groaned in pleasure and felt my asshole open to him.   
.....“You are a pig, aren’t you boy?” he growled. He set me back down, kicked my boots apart again, and then pulled me open using both hands, three fingers in each side of my cave. He spit four or five times deep inside me and then I heard someone say, “Hey Blackie, use some of this!” I felt the cold inside first, then the trail of cold beer foam dripping off my balls.
.....“How the fuck did I get myself in this position!” I thought as I felt his big paw pop into my rectum…

.....It was going to be a typical Saturday night at the Cell Block. You know, ramble in about 11, get a cold one from Bill at the bar. Then slowly walk the length of the bar checking eyes & baskets. Head to the back bar—making sure to count the number of boots sticking out of the stool stall.
.....Check out the black room and maybe, just maybe, find me a bottom I liked. Didn’t happen that way…
.....After getting to the back room bar area. I stopped moving and casually let my eyes wander over the crowd of black-hide men. Mostly regulars, a few former one-nighters I nodded to.. nothing outstanding. Then I saw him—or I should say, then he finally locked onto my eyes.
.....He was taller than I, about 6’5” with a rangy build. Sizeable arms and chest but no steroid junkie. Leather chaps, vest, well-used motorocycle hat and an arm band; simple & effective. He had a two-day growth of the blackest beard I can remember—up high under the eyes like he was Bedouin, but he looked more Italian than anything.
.....It was his eyes that did it though. Piercing, cold, black eyes staring across the room right through me from under brooding black brows. A casual looker would’ve called it a smirk, but I’d seen the look before; it was a grimace of satisfaction. Before I’d ever said a word to this guy, he knew I was interested.
.....He didn’t make a move. Just kept staring at me. Same knowing expression. But I could hear the message loud and clear. “Get yer ass over here now!”
.....“What the Hell,” I thought, “won't hurt to hear his line.” I worked my way through the standing-room-only mass of man-flesh and finally came up to him. “Unsnap your vest boy.” He said. His stare was relentless and I couldn’t maintain eye contact. I looked down… Damn! Game, set & match.
.....Almost in a zone, I unsnapped the vest. He latched onto my two nipple rings like they had been his the day they were planted. He started off slow. Worked them left and right, tugged on them, pinched the stiffening flesh behind them almost gently. I watched him work, mesmerized.
.....“You got other steel?” He queried. I looked at him again and nodded… and then found my voice. “Yes sir, “ I whispered. He pinched my nipples hard then. “Where boy? Where?”
.....I gasped out “Apydravya Sir! Apydravya”. His smirk grew. “That’s good boy. Gives a man something to hang onto don’t it?” I just nodded and looked down again. I felt my dick straining hard against my 501s.
.....He yanked me right up to his chest, straddling his thigh. “Look up here boy!” he ordered. I looked up to him, half nervous, half ready to do anything he wanted me to. He let go of my left tit ring and grabbed my jaw. Then he pulled me to him.
.....His tongue was halfway down my throat the instant I parted my lips. He tasted of cigar and whiskey and smelled all man. I let my arms hang at my side, taking whatever he wanted to give. He explored my mouth for a long time, his rough beard scratching me right through my goatee.
.....This one was very, very good.
.....When he finally pulled away, he really broke into a broad smile. I knew why too… it was the look on my face. He had me and he knew it.
.....I don’t bottom to too many men. I’m 6’2” and go 250 with a solid build and a grimace of my own. I sure as shit wasn’t looking to bottom to anyone when I walked in off Clark Street less than a half-hour ago! Now this mystery stud had me by the tits and mind…

.....He pulled his big fist out of me real slowly… he knew what the fuck he was doing. Whoever was pouring their beer in me must’ve had a pint, ‘cause “Blackie” pulled me open from both sides again and my ass filled up with more cold draft. It foamed out of my hole and dripped off my sack again.
.....I felt his mouth on my asshole and heard him slurp some brew right out of me. He “chewed “ on my asshole with his teeth, driving me crazy. Men on both sides cheered and clapped—and I felt the first drops of precum drip off the stainless steel ball of my apydravya as I groaned.
.....I was in another world completely. I closed my eyes. Blackie popped his fist back into me again and I felt him begin to work up into me. He rolled his hand and made me growl with pleasure. He fanned his fingers and he kneaded my prostate with his knuckles. I was groaning like a pig and cum was dripping from me onto the floor in big gobs.
.....He bent down to my ear and asked, “You ready for some depth pig?” I just grunted back, “GIMME!!”
.....He worked his fingers up into my rectum and slowly pumped them ‘till I opened up like a damned garage door. When he slid that huge hand through my sigmoid & up into my colon I let out a squeal that rolled over into a long, low moan. Somewhere, I heard someone say, “GAAAWDDAMN!”
.....Blackie worked up my tube, teasing me every millimeter of the way. Finally I felt him at the top turn. He asked me, “Anyone every been here before pig?” I nodded and said, “Only the Pope!” Everyone laughed.
.....I felt Blackie’s elbow rolling across my anus, first a little in, then a bit out. That went on for a long, long time, with me moaning in sheer ecstasy the whole damn time, trying to ram back onto him.
.....Finally I felt that bony joint slip in just as I felt his hand push right up to my diaphragm. “Damn, boys! I can feel his hear pumpin’ like a banshee right on the back of my knuckles!” Blackie said sofly.
.....I’m not sure what he did with his fingers, but when he did it I shot cum all over the floor and bellowed like a wounded dog. I came and came and came till I thought I was shootin' dry. Blackie later told me that the whole bar went quiet in an instant.
.....After I started cuming, Blackie told me that he’d stopped moving completely Then, when I was draped like a wet wrag over the stool, completely spent, he started coming out. I bucked like a horse and started cuming again instantly—but without any cum. I was bone dry. 
.....That only made the orgasm more intense! I felt hands holding my arms down, hands on my back, hands holding my thighs still. I just kept screaming.
.....Blackie kept pulling out of me, waving his goodbyes with his fingers… driving me up the fuckin’ wall! I was shakin’ all over like a tree in a hurricane! 
.....When his hand finally came clear, I wanted him back in immediately. I begged him for it. I pleaded! He finally obliged me, laughing as he punch-fucked my hole for a long time. I just kept moanin’ & groanin’, out of my mind, my dick still tryin’ to make man-milk. 
.....He finally insisted that we stop—the damn bar was closing!
.....He unlocked my cuffs and it was only then that I realized I’d rubbed them raw & bloody. The barkeep had some clean towels he and Blackie tied them in. Blackie borrowed some string, pulled up my one pant leg and used the string both as a belt and to wrap around the slit leg of my pants so I’d be street legal.
.....As we walked out the front bar, Blackie turned to David, the bar manager, and said, “Pay up hoss!” David laughed and pulled out his wallet, slapping five $20 into Blackie’s big hand. “Welcome back to Chicago Blackie—always a pleasure!”.
.....“What the hell was that about?” I asked Blackie. “You’re just easier than even I thought Jack!” David laughed, showing us the door.
.....As we walked down the street, Blackie’s arms around my shoulder, I had to ask. “Did you bet David you could get me tonight?” I protested. “Well, I’m not sayin’ I did and not sayin’ I didn’t… but if I did, are you sorry about it?” Blackie asked.
.....We walked on a few steps before I answered. “Not one damn bit amigo. Not one damn bit.”

[This is one of a three short stories (a future short novel) involving Jack & Blackie; please let me know if you like this one and/or have suggestions. ]