"Oh, fuck me..."

It's easily a disappointing moment, and the words just slip out, but you're still unsure who the other team is. As you settle back in your seat, you soon realize the rest of the huddle has grown unusually quiet. You turn your attention on the men to find all eyes locked on you...

You're surprised when the man sitting beside you suddenly slides his hand onto your leg, working his way up to your crotch. What the fuck? You recoil back as the man makes his advances more aggressive, moving his chair closer to yours as he snakes his free arm around your back. One by one, the group begins to swarm around you. Uh oh.

You feel a hand break the barrier between you and your underwear, as the hand slides down to caress your ass. You're concerned; not that seven men are getting more and more handsy with your pecker, but that number eight is simply enjoying the game on the TV, ignorant to this powerplay. Horny bastard.

The heavy-set man from before makes his debut, shuffling to the front of the group and standing in front of you. You look into his eyes and see nothing but lust. In an instant, the man has you in his arms and hoists you onto a dining table nearby. From there, the men surround the table, taking positions around you as they each expose their dicks for you.

A slim man in a number 17 jersey meets you at your side, and works the shirt off your body, as the heavy-set man removes your pants like a tablecloth magic trick. Four men take turns fondling your body, two on each side of you, as the heavy-set man takes you up from the rear. Both number 17 and 13 have their dicks out around your face as they both begin to stroke themselves on you.

You feel a sharp jolt and everything goes black for a second, returning to reality when the heavy-set man's cock rests 'comfortably' inside you. The man begins to thrust back and forth with little friction and you look up at the man like he's some kind of wizard.

"Butter," the man replies, seemingly reading your mind.

You set your head back onto the table, trying to get a full view of the seven men pleasuring you. The sensations are too much, and it's hard to know what to focus on. Four men continuously stroke your chest, with one who has a ****-grip on your cock, while the two men behind you, grunting and moaning as their seed begins to leak out all over your forehead.

The most intense feeling, however, goes to the heavy-set man and his prehensile dick inside of you; if he's got a girlfriend... hot damn. With every thrust you feel the clap of his ballsack hitting your rear, much akin to a light spanking, followed by an orgasmic sensation extending upward into your lower abdomen.

You're not sure you can take much more. You simply wanted to watch the game with some rabid sports-fans; and look how that turned out. Your world is now being rocked by seven men and the spectation of a DD. Horny bastard.

At those mental words you cum, being stroked violently by the man to your side, who slows down as you spurt your seed toward the ceiling. A loud moan escapes your mouth and a stray rope of cum from the men behind you lands inside it, causing you to gag. The heavy-set man continues to pound your ass, slowing down with each thrust, which sends your dick into a spasm frenzy, drenching your waist.

You pant heavily as the heavy-set man removes his cock from your rear. One by one, the men lose their aggressive stance, drawing their fingers away from your body like feathers to the wind. You're left behind, used on a dining table, sticky, to your own devices. As you get up from your position, the bartender comes to the table with a spray bottle filled with some liquid and spritzes the table down with it before wiping it off with a rag.