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Chapter Review
It's now 10 weeks into Mike's agreement with Jim Cartwright, the night manager of the Intercontinental Hotel in Buckhead, Atlanta.
10 weeks ago, when this all started, Jim was able to line up 4 men for Mike's first session this evening that lasted about 2 hours.
Those men were:
Clark, with his 11-inch uncut monster.
Tyrus, with a gym body, a shaved head and a 10-inch uncut cock
Jerry, with tightly cropped hair and beard and 8 inches but gigantic balls.
Cal, a quiet man, with a shaved head and beard, he was 9 inches but the thickest of them all.
Mike let all 4 men fuck him as a group for the last 2 hours. Most of them came twice; Mike swallowed them all.
As Mike's desire grew, Jim Cartwright lined up 4 more men to add to each gangbang session. The new men were:
Ray was Mike's first top; he was 6 feet 8 inches tall with a 9-inch cock.
Leo is the hotel chef; he has a nice 8-inch cock.
Roger is the hotel engineer; he has a 9-inch cock and he's the only cut cock in the group.
Ed is Mike's favorite bartender; He has a massive 13-inch cock.
Mike agreed to take the men in 3 groups of 3. That way everyone could spend the most time fucking vs standing around and waiting for one of Mike's holes to become available.
For the first month, all the men attended every night Mike was in town. But as weeks passed, men started dropping off the roster. Mike was still taking dozens of cocks a week and swallowing at least that many loads of cum, but he was disappointed that he couldn't keep all the men interested.
After 8 weeks, the gang was down to only 3 men, plus Jim Cartwright who always showed to collect on the two blowjobs a night that Mike had promised to deliver.
We join Mike's story on Sunday afternoon as he arrives for his 10th week on the job.
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Back for a New Week in Atlanta
As soon as I landed and got situated in my hotel room, I threw on my golf shorts and shirt and headed over to visit Ed at my favorite dive bar. I needed a dry martini and some advice from the most well-hung bartender in Atlanta.
Even though it was late autumn, Atlanta was experiencing heat wave. I was working up a slight sweat on my walk over to the bar. Soon, I was at the door and entering the cool, dark bar that I'd come to know and love.
"Hey Mike," Ed smiled, "back for another week with your nose to the grindstone?"
"I think you know where my nose will be," I smirked and took my seat at the bar.
Ed handed me my martini in a chilled glass. He even poured a little extra into a sidecar for me to enjoy as I waited for my second drink. I haven't paid for a martini here in months, ever since Jim added Ed to my roster of "guests" that I entertain in my room.
Ed was still a faithful regular and hadn't missed a session since he first started joining them. He didn't care that the group had dwindled, it gave him more access to me and I think he liked how I took his big cock with abandon.
"How was your weekend, Ed?" I asked, "anything exciting I missed?"
"You should know that you create most of the excitement in this town, Mike," Ed laughed, "are you looking forward to your week?"
"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that, Ed," I replied, "it seems like my little hotel side hustle is losing steam."
"Why don't we go down to the quiet end of the bar to discuss," Ed said as he gestured with his hand to the open seats at the far end of the bar.
In Ed We Trust
I grabbed my martini and headed down to the far end of the bar and grabbed an empty seat.
"Let's get your food order in before we get lost in what I think is going to be a longer conversation," Ed suggested, "you want your usual?"
"Yes, please, Ed, thanks," I replied, "thank God for this bar, or I'd go nuts in this town."
"So, what did you want to say about your hotel parties?" Ed asked with a concerned look on his face, "you aren't thinking about ending them, are you?"
"I don't think so," I replied, "but I'm just not getting as much action as I need, and Jim can't seem to muster up a large group anymore."
"Mike, at the peak, you were taking more black cock than any white guy I've ever even heard about," Ed consoled, "you had to know that intensity couldn't last forever."
"I get it," I replied, "but I kind of got used to the sexual overload. Most nights I would go to bed pretty beat up with two dozen or so loads in my belly. It was kind of incredible."
"Well, if just the volume of guys is what your seeking, I can help with that," Ed offered, "but Jim won't let most of the guys I send over into the hotel. They are just not suitable for that upscale venue."
"Yeah, Jim holds the reigns tight on attendees," I agreed, "what kind of interest do you think you could generate?"
"Have you ever heard of a Queen of Spades?" Ed asked, leaning in so he could talk quietly.
"Yeah, white women who prefer black dick, right?" I replied.
"Exactly. Well, the male version of that is a Jack of Spades," Ed explained, "that's what you're turning out to be."
"That's exactly what I am," I replied, "I only give it up for black cock."
"This bar has almost a dozen Queen's of spades that frequent," Ed confided, "I've even tapped a few of them myself."
"Wow, really?" I asked, "do they meet guys here?"