Date: Mon, 17 May 1999 15:11:15 PDT From: Horatio Nimier Subject: LES PRELUDES - II This post contains explicit descriptions of sex between consenting adults. Much of it portrays homosexual actions and lifestyle. If homosexuality, sexually explicit language, or swearing offends you, or if reading material that contains these violates any law or personal or religious beliefs you must exit now without proceeding further. If you're under 18 years old you may not read it either because it is against the law. I regret this because I was once a randy teenager and I feel somewhat two-faced in helping to enforce the law. Hopefully, one day, censorship may disappear along with other vestiges of Big Brother and Mother Grundy. The story is fictional inasmuch as things did not unfold as portrayed. It is based on events that happened on two business trips that did take place. These memories have been cemented together with strips of fiction to make the story cohere. Names and places have been changed. Moreover, the early 80's were different from the present time. Unprotected sex with people whom you don't know well is, like, dangerous and stupid. If you are a young guy reading this, I must advise you to be very circumspect when going to the home of an older guy: you can get yourself into deep doo-doo. Always let a buddy know where you're going and with whom. The stories are dedicated to the memory of my friend, Kerry. LES PRELUDES - II ================= The first ring of the phone pierced our slumbers and the Neanderthal defense mechanisms that still lurked deep within us went right to DEFCON 3. Raw adrenaline being dumped into our systems launched both Pete and me toward the side table and our hands made frantic grabs in the direction of the sound trying to locate the handset. The phone was on my side of the bed so I hit the target first, strained my brain figuring out which end to put to my ear and finally managed a grunt into the mouthpiece. Mike's voice, clean and bright and very wide awake, came through the earpiece and I listened to his instructions that we were all going to meet in half an hour for breakfast. By squinting I managed to focus on the clock next to the bed: 7:30. I made a mental note to myself to have Mike killed. I let the handset drop back into place and fell back on my pillow. About a foot above me, Pete's face looked down into mine. By now the adrenaline had fired up sufficient neurons in my brain for half the memory and logic modules to become operational. That my straight buddy was lying totally naked millimeters away from me probably meant that the sex I remembered from the night before hadn't been a dream. He gave a puzzled smile. "Who was that?" "Fuckin' Mike wanting to get on the road in an hour. Who else would it have been at this hour?" He grinned and his face-stubble grazed my cheek as he gave me a kiss. "Well, after last night I wouldn't have been surprised if it were Dave wanting my ass." "Sorry to disappoint you then," I grinned. "You could always phone him and call him over." "Wise ass," said Pete. Right now I need to recycle all that beer." He swung his legs up and in one movement rolled out of the bed and was standing on the floor. He stretched as he walked into the bathroom giving me a chance to admire his firm muscled body. My bladder was at capacity, too, so I followed him into the bathroom and we stood next to each other willing our cocks to relax and let the old beer flow out. When we were finished we staggered back to the bed. I lay down next to him, looking at the ceiling and feeling his body warmth. I ran my hand up his leg and felt his cock. Without looking at him I asked, "Still OK with all this ?" "Sure." He turned and looked at me. "Why didn't we start in college?" "We were nearly expelled as it was. If we'd have been into sex as well they'd have nailed us." "Yeah....you're probably right." His hand came over and gripped my erection. "We've got a lot to catch up." We lay there together, slowly jacking each other. The early morning sleepiness began to evaporate as the passion took over within me. I rolled over to use my right hand on his cock and that brought our faces closer together and within seconds our tongues were wrestling with each other again. Letting go of his mouth I took his right nipple in my mouth and sucked on it, then gripped it gently with my teeth and nibbled at it, pulling it hard. "Hmmm," he said, "I could get used to waking up like this. You into threesomes, huh?" "I'm into a lot of things," I said as my tongue probed into his navel on its way south. I paused as I got to the pubes. "But I'm not into getting my dick cut off by a jealous girl friend." He laughed and pushed into my mouth as I put my lips over his glans. I sucked him for a few minutes, jacking myself with my left hand. Pete was lying back, his eyes closed, his body occasionally quivering as some sensation exceeded the threshold. Somehow the years of waiting and fantasizing made him so much hotter to me. My wildest fantasies had not been as good as this was turning out to be. I began to feel my muscles squeezing, doing sperm roll call as they lined the little swimmers up ready for their journey. I knelt up and took his cock in my right hand jacking him hard as I got myself to climax with my left. My spurts of jism erupted over his stomach and I scooped some up to lubricate my hand on his shaft. The warm cum was better than my drying saliva and it didn't take more than fifteen seconds for him to start shooting his morning load. Creamy white frosting burst out his piss slit and ran down his shaft into his bush. I stroked him slowly, squeezing the last drip out. When no more was forthcoming I went down again and cleaned him up as best I could with my tongue. Pete watched me as his breathing subsided. "You like cum, don't you ?" he smiled. "Oh, yes. I'm hooked." We walked through to the bathroom. Taking turns to stand under the water and taking turns to wash the best parts of each other, we managed to shower. We stood next to each other, naked, shaving and then went through to get dressed. Socks, blue T-shirt, black leather jeans, harness boots went onto my body in a couple of minutes and in another sixty seconds I was following Pete's blue-denim-covered ass out the door as we pulled our leather jackets on to ward off the morning nip. We walked across the parking lot to the restaurant. Mike, naturally, was there as was Dave who grinned at us as we came in. "I was having a bet with Mike whether you'd make breakfast or not." "Hey, you need more than sperm soup to live," I said as I walked over behind Mike. I picked up a knife from one of the places and held it at his Adam's apple. "Listen, lover boy, if you ever phone me again before I've had eight hours of sleep and it ain't an emergency involving flowing blood, you'll be able to see Neil's cock in your throat through the hole I'm going to cut there." He grinned up at me "You only need seven hours of sleep -- the rest's just laziness. Let's get going so's we can get to the house in daylight." I ordered a stack of pancakes and some orange juice and sat down next to Mike. Our cute waiter of the night before had been replaced by a waitress whose apron couldn't hide the fact that she had a pretty neat ass. As she leaned across the table to fill my coffee cup I had a bird's-eye view down the front of her blouse. No bra. Aaaagh. I looked up and saw her looking at me with a half-smile on her face and, like a naughty schoolboy, I felt the blood go to my cheeks. My right leg jerked back in pain as Pete's foot connected with it just above my boot line. The waitress laughed and walked away. "Hey, stop muscling in on my turf," he laughed at me. We both turned to look at her ass bounce away from us like a doe running through a field. "Wanna make a threesome ?" I asked him. "We can do sandwiches." "Oh, man! Can you imagine it? Or, take her doggy style while she blew you, or...." "Can't you guys get your minds outta your pants for a minute ?" interrupted Mike. He wagged his fork at me, "I'm going to tell Colin on you, buddy." As if on cue, Neil and Colin walked in the door and sauntered over to the table as a few of the locals stared at Neil in his tight fitting racing-leathers. The zipper was open at the neck and it was obvious he had no shirt on underneath. "Hi, guys," said Colin as he sat down. "D'y'all sleep well ?" "Well, yes. Long, no." I said. "No kidding, man. I was just telling Neil that he's going to have to take Mike in hand about the hours he keeps," Colin said picking up a menu card. "You'd better start getting up a bit earlier yourself if you don't want your buddy here running off with any woman that comes past," said Mike smiling devilishly at me. Colin raised his eyebrows in my direction and I pointed at our waitress at another table. "Oh, you like her ?" he laughed looking at her. He studied her for a few seconds then turned back to me. "Naah! I can give better head than she can. Look at her mouth -- you can tell right away that she can't give good head." We laughed and got on with the breakfast. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Thanks to Mike getting us up with the sparrows it was in the early afternoon that Colin, Neil and I bunched our bikes together behind Dave's Jeep as we headed past Charleston, over the Cooper River and followed U.S. Highway 17. We hung right down 703 and rumbled up through the homes of the wealthy on Sullivan's Isand and the Island of Palms. Colin had the map on top of his tank bag and as we made several sharp turns to get to Back Bay drive I kept my distance to give me maneuvering room. Eventually we found the poorly marked Dewees Lane. The road was in rough shape and my rear wheel was skittish under me as it traversed the gravel. Eventually we came to the house. It stood well away from any other building and overlooked the beach. Not another house for a good quarter mile or more. There was a concrete driveway leading underneath the house that was built up on pilings. We couldn't have designed a better place for our stay. We found the key in the electrical switch panel as we'd been told it would be and then climbed up the weather-beaten stairs to the small porch at the front door. Inside it was just great. The door opened into a hall. On one side was a kitchen with white cabinets. Little chips in the paint and the style of the range and fridge showed the age of the house but it was spotlessly clean. A small bar-counter separated the kitchen from a living room whose full length glass doors opened onto a deck. From the living room a door led into the master bedroom and that, too, had sliding doors onto the deck. To the other side of the front door was a spiral staircase and when we climbed that we found two bedrooms with deep windows overlooking the ocean. The area above the kitchen was the upstairs bathroom and laundry area. It was an isolated paradise. "Who gets which room ?" asked Dave. "We'll draw for them," replied Neil. He picked up a notepad off the counter and tore out a page. Tearing it into three pieces he wrote a bedroom name on each of them and then folded them into little balls and dropped them into his helmet. He rolled them about and held the helmet out to Mike. "Make it a good one, buddy," he said as his lover took a ball. Neil held his helmet out to me and I chose one of the two remaining balls of paper. Pete picked out the remaining one and we unraveled them. "Yes!" yelled Mike. "Master bedroom." "Right bedroom," I read from mine. "Left bedroom," called Pete. "Funny how the guy that did the vote gets the master bedroom," grinned Colin sardonically. "Hey, it was fair," said Neil, "you saw it. Anyway, we're going to have to listen to you guys screwing all night above us." "I don't think it matters much," I pointed out. "I guess most of the time we're here we'll be together anyway in one room or another." I draped my jacket over a chair and put my helmet on the seat. "Let's get the stuff inside." Two hours later we had everything inside, had made a foray to the local shops to get foodstuff, sodas and beers and were sitting stark naked on the deck enjoying the late afternoon sun and having a Coke. Nobody was out and about on the beach and, even if there had been, they could not have seen onto the deck. After a while Dave said, "I'm going to see what the water's like. Anybody else coming?" We scrambled through our stuff to find our swimsuits and walked down to the beach. Neil, Mike and Pete wore Speedo's that left little to the imagination, Colin, and I had trunks and Dave had donned a pair of cut-offs. By the time we got to the water's edge the beach was deserted. Colin and I raced across the sand like kids to see who would be first in. I made it by a step and the cool Atlantic water splashed all over us as we tumbled in. The breakers weren't too high and we could go in a ways before the water was at our waists. We turned around. Mike, Neil and Pete were in the shallows and they were looking at Dave. He had shucked the cutoffs and was coming into the water wearing only a thong that barely covered his manhood. His muscled young ass was otherwise completely naked. "You going to get arrested, Boy," called Colin. "This ain't New York or the West Coast, ya know!" "I thought I'd help The South rise again," laughed Dave splashing up to us. Close up and with the material wet, the thong left even less to the imagination. Pete put out his hand and rubbed Dave's mound. "I dunno, Dave. I think you're rape bait, buddy." The six of us fooled around in the water like kids, swimming and splashing for about three quarters of an hour until the tensions of the trip were out of our shoulders and backs. Dragging long shadows behind us we scuffed our feet through the warm sand all the way back to the house. We wanted to have a closer look at Charleston so, after a quick shower, I found myself balancing the VFR as Pete climbed on behind me. He nestled his body up to mine and his hands rested comfortably on my crotch. Dave was already up behind Colin on the sleek Katana and as I looked toward them he held a warning index finger out to me. I grinned under my helmet: he was turning the tables because, any time he went somewhere with Colin, I'd hold my finger out in mock warning that Colin was mine and Dave wasn't to muscle in on my turf. Now he was staking his claim on Pete. I jerked my head up in acknowledgement and scanned back to Neil as Mike swung his leg over the pillion of the GPZ600R and snuggled into his lover's back. All mounted and ready to go. I kicked down into first, twisted the throttle open and led the group back up to the highway. The three bikes hauled ass back across the river and then settled down to a sedate speed as they swung south into the heart of the city. We cruised down through the town reveling in the stares we got from car drivers envious of our mounts. Down we rode to White Point Gardens where we parked to look over the bay toward Fort Sumter. There were quite a few bikers around and some came over to talk to us when they saw our `Show Me State' tags. From them we elicited a list of several good restaurants and a cute guy with bubble-butt and a blond flat top passed on the names of a couple of gay bars as well. So, under order from our stomachs, we rode back into the town, our bikes' engines rumbling gently--the subtle advertising of the untapped power that rested between our legs. Near the old market we backed our rides into a single parking space and walked around for a while looking at the little stores and the other shops. With the friendly people around us it was hard to keep in mind that slaves had once been sold here. How many tears lay crystallized in the earth beneath our feet, I wondered, and set my feet down softly in deference to their memory. The first restaurant we looked at seemed a bit expensive and, in looking for the second, we came by chance across a small place set back from the road in a brick courtyard. The night was warm and the gaslights made the shadows flicker on the walls. Entering between wrought iron gates, we were greeted by a friendly young woman in a loose white blouse and long black skirt. "I'm thinking of going straight again," Pete whispered in my ear and I grinned at him. "Y'all want to sit outside?" she asked. We did indeed and helped her pull a couple of tables together. Soon we were sipping chilled Chenin blanc and taking the edge off our hunger with hot garlic bread. Relying on his Southern heritage, Colin ordered us all an okra gumbo and it was so good that we almost felt the need to apologize for the ribbing we'd given him when he ordered salmon and grits. I must admit, though, that when I traded half my baked flounder and apricot chutney for half of his dish, I was pleasantly surprised by the flavor of this unique combination. As we relaxed in the warm evening air and talked about the trip down a feeling of warm contentment swept over me: life couldn't get much better than this. The effects of the trip slipped away during dinner and, after a couple of cups of coffee, Dave suggested that we hit one of the gay bars, but Colin, Neil and I were more in favor of leaving that for a night when only one person was driving. That was a better idea anyway, we all agreed, especially since, after riding all day, we wanted to kick back and have some beers. We had many a night still to come when we could come in to town and booze `n' cruise, we reasoned. As the three bikes moved together out of the town center I was aware of heads turning to watch us. I smiled to myself as I wondered how many minds entertained the idea of taking a biker to bed. The phrase `Chicks dig us and guys think we're cool' flashed through my mind from some long-forgotten story. A bare fifteen minutes later three headlights were cutting the darkness across the flat land out to our house and ten minutes after that six guys, stark naked, were lounging back on the deck furniture, their bodies amber and quivering in the light of four mosquito repellant candles. From time to time the flames were reflected back from six bottles of beer as they were raised to thirsty lips above which twelve eyes looked out into the complete blackness. Other than the occasional flashing lights that moved amongst the stars as aircraft headed North or South along the coast, the planet was ours alone. "So," Dave said scanning us with a grin, "Who's going to lay bare their sexual initiation for our edification tonight?" "I haven't heard about your fist sexual blossoming, lover boy," Pete said kicking my leg gently with his bare foot. "I was a virgin until yesterday afternoon with you, Pete," I said deadpan. "Oh, fuck! Chris is having delusions again," called Colin. "Let me whack him upside the head to get his mind straight." "It's too late for that," I quipped dodging his hand, "it's set on gay." "Yeah, Chris, I don't think I've heard your story, either," Mike said. "Who led you by the hand into manhood ?" "Come on, Chris, tell us," said Dave, "make me randy again." I laughed at him. Dave needing someone to make him randy was like the Pope needing someone to make him pray. "OK," I said looking down at my beer can while I collected my memories. "It was back down in Texas. I was just out of high school and I was working in a restaurant so's I could buy a bike before I went to college. It was a steak house in Plano that was a bit more upscale than a fast food place. The sort of place business people would come to at lunchtime and couples or families with older kids at night. "There was this one guy, Brad, who came in about twice a week for lunch with business men. He was always real neat: smart suits, white shirt, tie. A Mike-kind of guy." Mike showed me his fist, middle finger raised. "I guessed he was in sales, because they always had pads and calculators and he always paid for lunch. He wasn't a bad tipper either. "I was going through a rough time because I didn't really understand the concept of bisexuality -- I thought you were either a regular straight or a complete homo. So I was really confused since I had no real strong objections to sex either way. I had a girlfriend and she turned me on and we had great sex and I had about five buddies and they'd turn me on and we'd jack-off and suck. But something was really burning inside me: I wanted to make love to a guy real bad. "Well, right from when I first saw him, I knew that, given a chance, I would like to get this Brad guy into bed. Most nights in my room were passed with me having these great fantasies about him leaving me a note instead of a tip to meet him in his car outside." I took a mouthful of beer and smiled as I recollected my naivete. "After all this, it came as a big surprise and disappointment when one night in he walks with a wife and a kid about fourteen years old. Fuck, I was devastated. My fantasy was a breeder! Even worse he was a teaser, `cause he had on these tight jeans and a white shirt that showed his chest, so the whole meal I was being tantalized by what I believed to be the unobtainable." "Shit! Isn't that always the case," said Neil. "The hottest guys turn out to be straight. What a fuckin' waste." He grinned at my buddy. "No offense, Pete !" "None taken." I went on "Anyway, Brad was real friendly, introduced me to his wife and son, they had dinner, he tipped me well as usual and they all left. My fantasies continued, but the edge had gone -- now, even to me in my randy haze, they seemed unrealistic. "The following week he had lunch at the restaurant again and it was then I found out from the staff that he was asking to be seated at one of my tables. Actually, this isn't such a big deal as it seems. When folk go to a place regularly they often get a preference for one or other of the servers, so I was pleased that he liked me, but didn't set much importance on it. "Then, about two weeks after the visit with his family, about five motorcycles roll up outside one evening. Of course I was paying a _whole_ lot of attention to them. I was into bikes, and, of course, into bikers, too. Well, as they took their helmets off, I recognized Brad. My jeans just went into a tent when I saw him. Tight jeans, leather jacket, cowboy boots: instant precum leak. Anyway, they get one of my tables and Brad said `hi' to me. They were all real friendly -- a lot more boisterous than the usual patrons as a party of guys together usually is. Like, when they'd order there'd be sexual innuendoes in what they asked for and stuff like that. They were having a good time, but they didn't hassle me none. "Comes to dessert time. A couple of them ordered something and Brad just asked for his `usual'. He almost always finished off his meal with ice cream and normally we served it in a glass, one scoop on top of another. But I was a bit heady having these five bikers around so I got two big scoops and put them next to each other in a plate and put one of those rolled ice-cream wafers upright between them so, with the right imagination, it looked like an erect cock and balls. "As soon as I put it in front of him I regretted it. There was a sort of stunned silence and then as I walked away I heard the other guys start talking to Brad all at once. Well, I thought, fuck that -- I wasn't getting anywhere with him other than in my mind and the only real regret was that, as I said, he was a good tipper. "Later, when I was filling up their coffee cups, one of the guys, sort of making conversation, asked me when I finished work. We worked ten-hour shifts and it was nine to seven, eleven to nine or two to close. So I told him that I'd end my shift at nine. There were some general comments about it being hard work, but little else of import. A bit later I was up at the cash register entering various items onto bills to close my float when Brad comes over. `I liked the ice cream,' he said, `nice arrangement.' I swear when he said that his eyes flicked down to my crotch and up again. The waiters all wore black jeans and blue denim shirts and my jeans were tight. `We're going back to one of the guy's places for some beers and maybe a porno flick. You wanna come?' "Well, my mama didn't raise no dumb kids (except for my brother, that is). I knew that this was a Rubicon for me. My left brain and right brain started this huge battle to take control, but my mouth didn't wait for any decision and, without waiting for the brain to connect, I heard it saying `Sure'. What a prick -- like a fuckin' schoolgirl my hand started to shake and I felt my face getting hot. `I'll be finished up here in about ten minutes -- as soon as I have your bill rung up.' "`We'll wait for you out front,' he said. "Well, closing up my float took for fucking ever because I made so many mistakes. But eventually I took my apron off, phoned my folks and told them I was going out with a buddy from the restaurant and might just stay over, grabbed my biker jacket and headed for the door. The guys were all standing around their cycles and they sort of stopped talking when I got over to them. I noticed that they were looking me over and that their eyes would linger just around my belt. Man, I was nervous as shit. But they were cool. They mounted their bikes and I followed them in my mom's car. The whole time I was second-guessing my decision and, if I wasn't even more scared of being thought a wuss, I would have abandoned the whole thing. Eventually we got to this house: It was down the end of a street and sort of secluded. "As the guys parked their bikes I went over to Brad and stuck with him as we walked inside. It was real nice place. Everywhere you looked there were pieces of airplanes, pictures of airplanes, model airplanes. The owner's name, I discovered, was Steve and he told me he was a pilot for a charter company and flew mainly cargo, but sometimes people, too, who wanted to go somewhere out of the ordinary. "The guys were nice to me in a kind of reserved way. Like being the boss's kid at a new job. They gave me a beer and Steve asked me what kind of porn I liked to watch. I had no fuckin' idea. I didn't even know there were different kinds. So I said whatever they normally watched was just fine by me. Fuck, I cringe now to think what a complete wuss I was back then. It's _so_ embarrassing." I took up my beer again -- my throat was getting dry. "Anyway, Steve puts in this movie and we all sit around on two big sofas. I stick close to Brad, still nervous -- this is my dream fuck, I'm sitting next to him and I don't even have a hard on." As I recounted the story I could still feel the anxiety that had been inside me then. What if I couldn't get a hard-on? What if I didn't come? What if…. "The movie started off pretty much OK. A guy riding his motorcycle in the wide-open country comes across a gorgeous 20-year old hitchhiking. He stops for him, hitcher feels his crotch, they strip, they suck, they fuck. I was sitting there with my chin on my knees. Guys could fuck like this for a movie? In front of a camera crew? I kinda wondered what it took to be a cameraman for such an outfit. My hormones were just running all over my body doing flip-flops. Anyway, where was I? Oh, yeah! The movie. The two guys go to the hitcher's house. Ya know, in porn movies _every_ twenty something young guy is too poor to own a car so he has to hitch, but he has a ranch out in Montana. There his brother (or cousin, or friend) arrives with another buddy on bikes and the rest of the movie is about sex every which way between the four of them: on bikes, on horses, in fields, on the kitchen floor, in bed. "Well, about in the first five minutes, right when the biker and the hitcher start to feel each other up, I am as hard as anything and my jeans are straining. I check around and all the other guys have their hands in their crotches squeezing away. Suddenly I felt Brad's hand on my crotch and he begins to rub my prick through the cloth. After about a minute he calls out `Hey, guys, I think Chris has some trouble fitting into his jeans. I think we'd all feel more comfortable if we strip.' So Steve stops the movie and we all strip. Fuckin' hell -- I'd never seen man-meat like this before. "The other guys are standing around me chatting and looking me over. My cock got held and massaged by each of them and I took the chance and felt theirs. Then Steve put a beach towel on the floor and we sorta got into a circle over it. We started off with each guy jacking the guy on his right. I was handling Brad and some other guy was pumping at me. Brad's cock was real hard and curved up so the tip was close to his belly button. I swear, I couldn't believe where I was. I kept on looking from one cock to the next. Then one of the guys looked at me and asked if I liked cookies and cream. I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but was smart enough to know that there was more to it than the name implied, so I asked him what he meant. `Get some Oreos, Steve,' he said and we rested for a minute, our cocks bobbing at each other like some crazed mating dance of exotic birds. Steve came back with a plate of about four or five Oreos and put it down on the towel. `What the fuck, surely nobody can pick a cookie up with their cock ?' I asked, and everybody laughed because I was so naive. "`The game is, Chris,' Brad explained, `to shoot over the cookies. The last guy to cum has to eat them all.' Fuck me, George, and call me Harry! These were grown men and they had this game like kids would invent. I nearly blasted my load at the thought of it. We formed back into the circle, but changed hands so now I had the guy on my left in my hand and Brad was handling me. Looking around at all these man-cocks being pumped by someone else was mind-blowing for me. The guy on my left was a blond guy in his twenties with this real long, thin uncut cock. He kept up this monologue of `Yeah, Chris, pull it hard,' and `Oh, Chris, that is so good' the whole time I was pulling him. And of course, I had Brad working my cock into a frenzy. I remember, still, his firm grasp on my root. We went for about a minute, but I was so over stimulated that, try to relax as I might, I shot first. As soon as I warned Brad, he pointed my dick down and I blasted the Oreos and the plate and the towel around it and the feet of the guy across from me. "`You fucking horny bastard,' Steve said to me, `when last did you come ?' "`About three this afternoon,' I admitted, embarrassed at all the attention I was getting but managing to keep on pumping on the blond guy. A bit later, he and two other came almost together. I'd felt his ass bucking his cock into my hand then his voice kinda went all high as he said `Oh, yeah! Oh, yeah!' And I could feel the spunk surging through his shaft. I was so engrossed in watching him spurt that forgot to aim his dick at the plate and he had to push it down after the first shot landed back on my arm. The plate looked a complete mess. Brad yelled that he was going to cum, but before he did another guy shot up the plate and the cookies. So Brad was last and, as he was cumming, everyone was teasing him about eating the Oreos. When he was spent, we all stood around watching him and he picked up the plate and took the first chocolate disk, dripping with spent sperm, into his mouth. I couldn't fuckin' believe it. He chews it and swallows and then he held out the plate to me and asked me if I'd like to try one. Shit! My guts cringed, but I felt that I had been such so juvenile all evening that I could hardly back down now and so I took one and smelled that guy-juice smell as I real gingerly put it into my mouth. I mean, I'd sucked a buddy's cock and taken his load, so it wasn't a new taste, but it's one thing when you take it in the heat of coming and a totally different matter when it's a mixture of six guys jism in the aftermath. I put it in my mouth and, fuck, it tasted great -- the saltiness and the sweetness and the chocolate all mixed up. I tell you, from that moment on I was hooked as a cum junkie. I had hardly finished the first cookie than I took another. The guys thought that this was cool and everyone said I was great and hit me on the back and I felt real good. I didn't feel such a kid any more." I paused for a drink. All hands not involved in beer drinking were on their owner's meat, I noticed. I looked down at my own boner, wiped the precum off it and licked my finger before continuing. "We cleaned up some then and then sat around watching the rest of the movie and drank beers. The blond guy and Brad took turns at smooching me and pulling at my tits and they got me to come again. Actually, as the movie went on, there was always someone in the room working at their own or someone else's cock, so it was pretty wild. After the movie we cleaned up ourselves then the party broke up and everyone started to go home. Brad was worried that I was too drunk to drive (which I was -- I didn't drink much back then and the excitement had caused the beer to knock me for a loop). There was a half-hearted plan for him to drive me home in my mom's car and Steve would follow on his bike to bring Brad back, but eventually it was settled that I would sleep on the couch at Steve's place. " I heard Brad talking to Steve and then he left, thanking me profusely for joining them. Steve put out a sleeping bag for me and then went to bed in his own room. Well, I wasn't feeling all that good right then and, as soon as I lay down and closed my eyes I felt the whole room start to tumble around and around. My guts were churning and I knew I was going to hurl. I grabbed my shirt and held it in front of my mouth as I ran to the guest bathroom and just hurled my guts out. I couldn't stand without barfing, so I stayed there, kneeling on the floor in front of the crapper for about twenty minutes until all I had was the dry heaves. Eventually I cleaned up the place and myself as best I could and then crashed on the sleeping bag and went to sleep. "I woke up at about 6:30 the next morning with my brain pounding at my skull and my eyes barely able to focus. Steve was moving around in the kitchen making coffee and, when he saw me sit up, he brought me a glass of orange juice and asked if I wanted to shower. My mouth tasted like a whore's cunt and I guess I smelled of restaurant and cum and barf, so I said sure. He showed me the bathroom where the shower was and gave me a towel. I made the water scalding hot and just let it run over me for a while so, by the time I got out, I felt a whole lot better. I put my jeans back on, took one sniff at my shirt and nearly hurled again, so I threw it in the corner and pulled my biker jacket on over my bare chest. I walked back into the kitchen and found the table set with coffee and toast. I didn't really feel like eating, but Steve made me have a whole piece of toast. That managed to stay down and I took a couple of aspirin with the coffee while we sat there and talked. "Shit, talking with Steve was like having someone who is both your grandfather and your older brother. There was absolutely no taboo in the discussion. We talked about his flying, my school, why I was going to Washington to college. Fuck, everything. He didn't have a flight scheduled and I wasn't due at work until two. I just talked and talked. Steve made another pot of coffee and, since the aspirins had kicked in, some more toast. I told him stuff I'd never told any one else. I even admitted to him that guys turned me on same as chicks. And everything I said was cool with him, like he didn't put me down or laugh or even raise an eyebrow. He spoke to me like a real adult and made everything seem quite normal. He told me that a guy who flew with him had been to UW and had done OK there; he explained to me that being bi was fine --pretty normal, in fact -- it was just like Brad was, he said. "That got us talking about the night before and what the guys did together. And then I got on to asking him what guy sex was all about, I mean, like what they did. Well, after about fifteen minutes of this my cock was pumping precum into my jeans and I said that I wanted him to show me. He laughed and said that he would really like to do that, but Brad had made him promise not to take advantage of me. Whatever I fucking said made no difference even when I hauled my prick out and started to jack in front of him, he wouldn't do anything with me. He wouldn't even let me phone Brad -- he said if everyone phoned everyone else every time they wanted sex there'd be no work done." "Doesn't seem like a problem that'd bother me," said Neil. "Anyone want another beer?" He got up and brought back another six for us, his cock swinging out in front like a snake searching for prey. As I drained one can and opened the next I looked over to where Dave and Pete were massaging each other's groins. Pete seemed happy enough, so I went on with my tale. "Where was I? Oh, yeah, at Steve's place. Well, the best I could get out of Steve was that he'd talk to Brad and everything I wanted to know and do would be taken care of in a matter of time. So, kinda disappointed, but also feeling that I was being treated like a man, I had to accept that. I asked him for a mop and I cleaned up the guest bathroom some more, found my shirt, thanked him for letting me stay over and went home to get changed and go back to work. "The rest of that day and night I relived the circle jerk about every hour I was awake. I just wanted to see Brad or Steve again. Then on the next day, Friday, Brad came in for lunch with some other business dude. He acted like nothing had happened and I guessed he didn't want to say anything in front of the other guy, but, let me tell you, they got the best, fuckin' service anyone had ever had in that restaurant. Afterwards, instead of using his card, Brad came up to the cash register and asked me for change for a $50 bill. While I was giving it to him he asked me how I was and said that Steve had told him about the morning talk we'd had. As I handed out the change he asked if I was off work on the weekend. Well, I had Sunday off, so he said I should come over to Steve's place round about 11 and we'd have a brunch. Apparently his wife was going out of town for the weekend and he was spending it with Steve. "Man, from Friday to Sunday I didn't touch my cock. I wanted every sperm I made to be available. Sunday morning I got dressed in my tightest jeans, no briefs, took my leather jacket and headed over to Steve's house. It was just the two of them there sitting around in tank tops and tight shorts. While I'm waiting for Steve to pour me a beer, Brad comes over and starts to feel my bulge. `I need to refresh my memory as to what this looks like,' he says. `Show it to me, Chris!' In about two seconds and I'm naked and my cock is dripping all over the place. He feels me up and I started to get those shorts off his ass. While I was getting his clothes off I asked him about the Thursday night setup and he told me that he and these guys had formed this JO club that met every Thursday night and they would typically watch porn and have a jack off session. "`I thought you were married,' I said to him. "`Yeah, I am,' he says. `My wife knows about all this and as long as I keep to guys, don't get a disease and don't touch another woman it's all right with her. It improves my sex with her, too, she says.' "For a while we stood there and jacked each other for a while. I had really been fantasizing about sucking Brad's cock and eventually I got up the guts to ask him if I could. `Sure,' he said. So I went down on my knees and took his cock in my mouth like I did with my buddies. With my buddies, though, it was like getting your rocks off quickly, so I wasn't real good. After I had been at his pole for about a minute he stopped me. He told me I was too fast and too impatient. `Watch me!' he said and knelt down in front of Steve, but instead of going for his cock he started on his balls. He took them and pulled at them gently with one hand and then licked the scrotum all over. Then he took each ball into his mouth gently and sucked on it for about half a minute. `It's like talking to someone, you've got to get their attention first,' he old me. Then he told me to try on Steve while he watched. "I knelt down in front of Steve and Brad stood next to us. He told me to keep my left hand on Steve's ass so's I could feel him move and that way I'd know when I was hitting a sensitive spot. Steve's sack was still all wet from Brad's licking and that made me real horny to think I was licking his spit off his buddy's scrotum. I tried to do what he had showed me, `Now take his cock in your mouth,' he said after I'd given the nuts a good tongue washing. I didn't need no second invitation and put out my tongue to taste his bland precum. `Stay back, just keep the tip in your mouth, put your lips just past the ridge' Brad instructed me. I got that right, so he says `Explore it with your tongue. Feel it everywhere. Probe the piss-slit to see if there's any precum hiding there.' And I did all that. `Rub him underneath, where the glans joins the shaft, that's where the nerves are.' That was good -- I could feel his ass tremble when I did it hard. Then Brad told me to rub round and round the piss-slit, too, in little circles." I turned to Pete. "Remember Dave doing that to you ? Guess who taught him ?" "I thought I had had a varied sex life," he laughed, "compared to you guys I've had just one lot of sex over and over again." "Don't sweat it, Pete," said Mike, "Your life has just begun." "So, then Brad tells me to start licking behind the rim of the glans. That's where you taste the guy's cock, rather than his cum, he says. After I'd done that, he tells me to see how much of Steve's shaft I can manage to take. I got his glans to the back of my throat then stopped. `You can take more,' Brad says. I tried, but I started to gag and pulled back. `That's OK,' he said, `it always happens. Just take it easy and pretend you're going to swallow it. Drop your back tongue and let Steve just flow over it.' Well, I kept gagging, so then Steve had an idea. He made me lie on the kitchen table, on my stomach with my head sticking over the edge. "`Now try,' he said. It was a whole lot easier now because in this position my head was back and more open to my throat. I held his hips and guided him in. Within a couple of tries I had my nose in his pubes and then he started to fuck my mouth. "Brad watched and told me what to do. `Enjoy it going in. Explore as much of the underneath as you can with your tongue tip as it comes in. The glans is where the sensation is. Suck at his precum and use your tongue on the underneath, then as you go down his shaft rub your tongue on the underneath of the shaft. When he's all in, then his glans is getting rubbed by your throat, so push the base of the shaft with your tongue. Then as you pull off, suck at it like it's got chocolate over it and you need to get it off.' Of course Steve was getting really hot with all this chat and he was moaning like shit while he fucked my face hard. "Then Brad tells me that nobody can be real good at sucking cock if they don't know what it's like. `You've got to be able to imagine what the guy is getting out of what you do,' he says, `that's why chicks are usually poor cock suckers.' He made me kneel in front of Steve again while he grabbed some cushions and put them on the floor and lay between Steve's legs, resting on his elbows and took my cock in his mouth. `You do whatever I do to you,' he said, `and keep thinking that this is what Steve's feeling. Don't worry if you can't take it all in - that'll come with practice.' He demonstrated everything on me that he'd taught me to do. Finally Steve began to throw his head around and gasp and I could really feel his passion through his ass. He was like that for a minute and then he began to groan and shout and his cock started to shoot. Shit, my mouth was suddenly filled with his thick cum and I was trying to swallow it but his cock was still in my throat. It was just too much for my hormones and I let my load blast off into Brad's mouth without warning. As soon as I had come I let Steve's cock out of my mouth, but Brad slapped the side of my ass and pointed at Steve's rod, so I guessed I should carry on. I sucked some more, and sure enough I noticed small amounts of cum still dripped into my mouth even after he stopped thrusting. "After about a minute Brad let go of me and I let Steve's cock out of my mouth. `OK, Chris,' Brad said to me, `now's the test. Suck me dry.' He lay back, his meat pointing to the ceiling and I knelt over him. And then I went through everything just as I'd done on Steve, but now I was solo. Brad was uncut, and I took my time pushing the foreskin back with my tongue, tasting hot man-cock. He was squirming and I could see I aroused him. It took him only about two minutes to get to climax and then he pushed my face away from him. `Jack me off,' he said. I couldn't understand it. Was my sucking so bad ? But I gave him five or six strokes and he shot all over his stomach and chest. Spurt after spurt. Then I found out why he wanted me to jack him off. `Lick me clean,' he told me. `Don't leave one drop to make my T-shirt stink.' "So I licked. Up and down, over and over. Lick, swallow, lick, swallow, until his torso glistened with saliva and not a taste of cum could I find anywhere. "After that we sat and had a beer together and talked about sex we'd had with other guys. Brad never mentioned his wife and I never asked. By the time we'd downed two beers we were all pretty hard again with the conversation. `You ever been fucked or fucked a guy ?' Brad asked me. This was the opening I'd been waiting for. I knew I wanted to try this, but I had heard that it hurt like hell, so I was really quite scared, too. After the suck session I had begun to feel grown up and experienced, but now I had to admit I was a virgin and I felt like a dumb-ass kid again." "Been there, done that, got the T-shirt," said Dave smiling. "Hey, you weren't bad," I said, "anyway, at least you learned fast." "You were a good teacher," he said. "What'cha mean ?" asked Colin. "I was out of town for a week and he wanted to claim as much of you for himself as he could get before I got back." He leaned over and put his tongue between my lips and pumped my hard cock a couple of times. When we separated I continued. "So we went through to Steve's bedroom and they told me to lie on my back. Brad knelt between my legs and put my feet over his shoulders and Steve pushed pillows under my back getting my ass into the air. They had a tube of K-Y and Brad put some on his finger and began to gently rub the rim of my ass-hole, smearing the jelly along the ridge. As soon as he touched the ridge I instinctively clamped hard, but he slapped my cheeks a couple of times and told me to relax. So, I forced my ass to be loose and I felt his finger go in. I could feel it making circles inside me and then I suddenly felt like a huge surge of randiness explode in me. He'd hit my prostate. He massaged it gently for maybe a minute then pulled his finger out. `Wanna feel virgin ass?' he asked Steve and so Steve took his place and fingered my ass. He soon started to use two fingers, using the knuckles to pry my ass wider. He asked me how I felt and I said great. It wasn't sore at all. Then he told Brad that he thought I was ready and, once again they changed places between my legs. Brad lubed his cock and used one hand to position it at my hole. `Tell me if it hurts and I'll stop. Anytime.' he said. I really wanted him inside me bad so I told him to just fuck me. I felt his cock at my ass and I couldn't help but clamp a bit as he started to go in. He didn't slap me again, just held steady, pushing gently, and told me to relax. I did and his shaft went in. It slid in and felt strange at first `til it hit my prostate and again the surge came over me. Slowly he went all the way in until I felt his balls on my ass. When he was all in he stopped and checked if I was OK and then he pulled out and then back again. It was sore, but not real bad, but, fuck, there was no way I would tell him to stop. I had never had feelings like this. Steve knelt next to us, watching his buddy fuck me and working on his own shaft and mine. Brad slow fucked me for maybe three minutes and then started to go faster and faster, thrusting hard so his balls hit my ass each time. As he started to shout that he was coming, my balls loosed a whole load of cum over my chest. Steve's hand was going up and down like lightning and, for the second time that afternoon he unloaded. My chest was awash with my own and his cum and then Brad withdrew and leant forward and started to lick me as I had licked him. "He kissed me, letting me taste the cum on his tongue. `How d'you feel, Chris ?' he asked me when he finished. "`Like I'm empty inside.' I told him. I mean I was really emotionally as well as sexually drained. We just lay on the bed for about half an hour. Not talking much, just touching each other's bodies. Just touching, being together. Just us three guys: it was magic. We showered together, jammed tight into the single shower, then, still naked, went into the kitchen and made bacon, eggs, toast. Fuck, it was the best meal of my whole life. I was with men and being treated like an adult. After we'd eaten we sat back and watched a porn movie about a guy hitching a ride from two guys in an open jeep. About half way through the three of them were on the hood forming a sandwich, the driver getting sucked by his buddy and fucked by the hitcher. `Wanna try that?' Brad asked me, `You still haven't fucked a man, you know.' "Shit, it took me all of two microseconds to get off that couch and run to Steve's room for the K-Y. I smeared it on my cock and got behind Brad. He bent forward some and I lubed his rim. His ass was ready and my finger went in easily. I had no idea what to expect inside, but it felt great, like putting on a living glove. I went in deeper and when I felt a firmer area Brad trembled slightly and I knew where I was. I pulled my finger out and, holding his hips I positioned my cock and leaned into him. I couldn't get in at first, but then I pushed a bit more and it overcame the rim pressure and slid in. It felt _so_ good on my prick -- so firm all the way around it. "Suddenly I realized what I was doing. I was fucking a guy. It was what I wanted to do for such a long time. I ran my hands forward and felt Steve's face coming and going on Brad's shaft as I slid in and out of his ass. My cock had a mind of its own and I started to slam it into Brad's ass like crazy. Real man sex. I dunno how long I lasted, but it seemed way too soon and I was just pumping spunk into him. He took about another minute or more to come and I just hung on his back with my meat getting soft inside him until he was finished." "You lucky son of a bitch," said Neil. "Most of us have to experiment with one teenage buddy and you get private tutoring from two adults. Did you have to become their slave, or what ?" "Naah. They were real nice to me. I joined their Thursday circle -jerk club. Most times the guys'd come to the restaurant first for dinner and give me a hard time, you know, sending perfectly clean cutlery back saying it was dirty and that sort of crap. Then they'd tell me I had to come home with them if I wanted my tip, so we'd go to some guy's place and j/o and watch porn like buddies." "And Brad's wife was OK with all of this?" asked Mike. "Yeah. He never messed with another woman, and he never did anything with a guy at their house." "She know about you ?" "I dunno. I guess -- she never said and he never said and I never asked, but I was around him a whole lot. When I was at college I used to go home in the summer and Brad got me summer jobs where he worked. I went out to their place for a barbecue a couple of times. I even tutored their kid in math one summer. But in their house Brad and I never touched or said anything sexual to each other. It was all cool. We'd go to our circle-jerks once a week and an occasional fuck session with Steve." I finished off my beer. " I'll tell you when I was in hospital after my brother fucked me up and I didn't want to go home..." "Your brother beat you up ?" asked Pete incredulously. "Yeah. I took the family by surprise and came out on my birthday. Apparently real Texans don't have gay brothers." Pete went red, I guess he remembered our fight, but his face showed real concern. "Shit, I'm sorry, Chris. I didn't know." "Hey, doesn't matter. Anyway, I couldn't go back home and I didn't know what I was going to do while I finished off down there. The morning I was discharged, Colleen, that's Brad's wife, walked in and said that she and Brad had talked it over and if I wanted to use their spare room for a while until things got straightened out again I would be very welcome. She never mentioned the sex at all. Real classy lady. I stayed with them for a couple of weeks while I worked my notice. Brad and I never did anything. They were real natural about things. Their son knew why I had got beaten up and I've come to the conclusion that Brad wanted him to see what bigotry really came down to. When it came time for me to pack my stuff up all three of them came to my parents' place to help me load the rental truck `cause I still had some problems lifting stuff. I didn't really want to get into my Texas departure again so I drained my beer, got up and stretched. "Hey, guys, I've had a long day. I think I'm gonna hit the sack." "Yeah, I'm zonked, too," said Dave getting up. "We need to try that Oreo thing," he said. "Sounds sort of neat." "Fuck that," said Neil turning off the lights. "I'll lie in the center and you can cum over me. Last one to cum gets to eat me." We laughed and headed for our rooms. At the top of the stairs Pete turned and gave me a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry about Texas," he said, "but if that hadn't happened, we wouldn't be here now." His words stayed with me long after Colin and I had turned our light out. How ironic: I had Colin -- my lover and soul mate; I had my best friend with me learning guy sex; there were three other guys who cared about me. And I owed it all to my brother's homophobia. I burst out laughing and Colin turned over sluggishly, slapped my thigh and said, "Go to sleep." I gave him a kiss, held him in my arms and drifted off into a contented dreamland. Copyright 1999 Horatio. I relate these stories because I enjoy writing and I enjoy the subject matter. If you have any comments you can email me at horatio_nimier@hotmail.com I'll even accept criticism if expressed in an adult, objective and polite manner. Hate mail will be flushed without reading. Grow up.