By Norm
Hey boys, glad you could make it to our monthly fetish night poker game. We are up to 5, last one in makes stud. Mike, the host for the evening said. The dress code of leather or rubber was strictly enforced, and tonight was no different. A leather cop or two, as well as rubber men gathered in Mike’s garage, turned playroom. Not long after, Kurby, came in, out of breath. Tonight he was in his motorcycle leathers, chaps and a jacket, and what looked like something rubber underneath tightly plastered to his skin.
“I’m not late am I fellas, my cycle broke down and I had to push it 4 blocks.” Kurby was an ass, really just a young kid, on his own, always late, and usually hitchin’ a ride. Most times he was pretty broke, and thought he could win some extra money at the games. The guys had met him at the local bar and if it wasn’t for his great body, no one would have bothered. Most of his ability to think centered around his dick, and not much else. Tonight he was the betting stud, and the opportunity to dish out some needed training.
“Well Kurby boy, I’d say you’re just in time. You’re the designated betting stud tonight.”
“Shit, guys, not again, last time it took me a month to grow my hair back.” Kurby moaned.
