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The First Time is Always a Bitch

By: peeder_exposed



The first time is always a bitch. That's what everybody tells you, and for me, the old adage keeps proving to be the case. I am a married man—23 years—with four kids, ages fifteen to twenty-one, so I'm what they call "old enough to know better." That's why when I first received an invitation to a JO party I told myself I had lived a quiet respectable life in a small community and didn't need to risk it all for one evening of new and unsampled pleasures. 

The invitation came from a co-worker we'll call Dave, who had just gotten run through the wringer on a knock-down drag-out divorce and wound up with what they call the "former marital residence," a cracker-box house in a working-class neighborhood in a town we'll call Peoria, IL, together with back-breaking payments to his former wife. Understandably, he was bitter as hell about the whole rigamarole. That's why the invite was kind of a surprise and yet not really surprising either. The thing was, neither one of us had ever harbored any doubts about our sexual orientation. We were hetero to a fault. Or so we told ourselves until that fateful night.

The only time I had strayed after two decades of marriage was with a co-worker we'll call Jane—even though her real name is Yvonne Faye Hobbs, dob 12/19/59. Yvonne was and still is married to an asshole named Mickey Hobbs, who sells luxury cars at a local dealership. Mickey must have been giving Yvonne a more-than-ordinary hard time because when opportunity presented itself she went for it and took me with her. It happened like this: our boss has a condo across town, the rich bastard. He uses it for his little flings with secretaries, waitresses, dirty legs he picks up at Hardee's, whatever. Anyway, Yvonne had a job-training DVD we were supposed to review and write a report on, and time had gotten away from us, so the boss lent her his condo keys. Since I had to see the DVD too, Yvonne drove herself and me to the boss's condo in her Explorer. I wondered why she was driving so fast—we had an hour for lunch and the boss knew it would be a working lunch—but soon I realized the reason for her hurry. 

Yvonne locked the Explorer and I followed her up the walk to the condo. It was a new development, well landscaped and designed to please the eye. So was Yvonne, I couldn't help noticing as I admired her trim ass and shapely legs going up the stairs. She fumbled a bit unlocking the door, muttering, "Fucking keys," which was unusual. I don't know what she did with Mickey at home, but Yvonne never swore at the office, let alone letting go with the "f-bomb" in another man's hearing. 

The condo was stuffy, so Yvonne flipped on the air and found some scented candles. "Funny if we burn the place down," I said, trying to make her laugh. 

"If you're thinking of starting any fires, include me in your plans," she said, looking me right in the eye.

I didn't know what to say, so I didn't say anything. Yvonne finally broke eye contact, shrugged and led the way into the living room, saying, "I guess we better get started." She sat down on one sumptuous white couch, beckoning for me to join her. Then, taking the DVD out of her purse, she handed it to me and said, "Do the honors?"

I walked over to the boss's LCD big-screen, trying to figure out how to turn it on. Yvonne said, "The player's built-in. See that slot toward the bottom?"

I tried to insert the training disc but there was already a disc in there. I ejected it but then clumsily allowed it to re-insert. The TV came on, spontaneously I thought but later realized Yvonne must have used the remote. At any rate, the DVD in the player set the bar to a whole new level for hard-core porn.

Like every guy my age, in my early years I saw Linda Lovelace, Seka, Jody Maxwell and the women of their generation getting it on onscreen. I still wasn't prepared for what I was seeing: a grand cavalcade of the boss's favorites, including maybe twenty women in a wrestling ring taking bukkake shots from men of all ages, sizes and shapes, women gagging and then asking for more, women puking from taking too much cock in their mouths or having it forced on them, naked elderly women in their late seventies sucking young mens' cocks, and men casually sucking each other off in public with the angry disgusted public reaction painstakingly recorded so you knew it had to be a candid shot.

I must have stared at the screen for ten solid minutes without turning around. When I finally did, Yvonne was seated on the couch completely nude.

Yvonne's breasts were heavy and pendulous even for a woman in her early forties. Her nipples were big as my wide-open mouth must have been, and her expression left no doubt as to her intent. Without a word, I shuffled over to her, heart pounding, and knelt between her legs. First she offered me her breasts. I sucked them, slavering over them greedily before, remembering my manners, I politely teased each nipple in turn with the tip of my tongue. With gentle pressure against the back of my head, Yvonne soon directed me downward to the silken treasure that lay between her legs like a rare jewel hidden in layers of downy softness. I gave the edge of her pussy lips a slow, generous lap that made her sigh and ask for more. Her pussy was musky and moist, and as I licked rhythmically I brought out the intimate slickening that is every woman's telltale prelude to climax. Yvonne's fingers tightened in my hair, pulling it with a sensation that was painful but not distracting. I plunged my tongue into the crevice of her, encountering her "pearl of great price," swirled my tongue tip around the slick firmness I found there, and realized with satisfaction that Yvonne was experiencing a clitoral erection. 

Trying to remember what I'd read about a woman's g-spot, I pressed a broader expanse of my tongue against her now exquisitely sensitive clit, at the same time plunging a probing index and middle finger as far as I could up her vagina. She moaned, then gave forth with a startled whoop as my wayward fingers explored her. Slightly curling my fingers upward, I found what I was looking for: a round bump that in Yvonne's case was at least an inch in diameter, while my own wife's is more the size of a mosquito bite. Still licking, I circled her g-spot with the gentlest of tickling motions until she gasped, "Harder!" Always willing to oblige, I pressed and massaged the spot, bearing down each time she demanded, "Harder!" 

Suddenly Yvonne seemed to struggle against my lewd embrace. "I gotta pee," she whispered urgently. "You're making me have to go pee!"

I moved to withdraw but she said, "Don't stop!" I bent again to lick her clit and pressed one final time on her g-spot like ringing the doorbell. She quivered, cried out and came instantly, in waves. Moments later, she started her stream.

I don't know if you've ever been pissed on or tasted piss, but when you're sexually excited already, it's a not altogether unpleasant experience. As son as she was through, Yvonne apologized even more profusely than she'd pissed, running through the condo nude, frantically searching for paper towels. After she found some I helped her soak up her pee before it permeated the couch, which, lucky for us, had been scotch-guarded. She sprayed a liberal quantity of Febreze all over the wet spot and then started picking up her clothes to get dressed. Noticing my disappointed expression she said, "I'm sorry, Gary, but I just can't do it to Barb. I just couldn't live with myself if, you know, you'd cheated with me. At least now you can honestly tell yourself we never technically had intercourse and you never once had an orgasm while you were with me. Trust me, you'll be glad we didn't, once you come to your senses. Now let's get down to business. Mind putting in that DVD, Sweets?"

I blew out the scented candles and abandoned any burning sensual fantasies involving Yvonne. She and I never spoke of the experience again, even though we see each other every day at the office.

Getting back to the JO party invite, Dave ran into me in the corridor and asked me if I could keep something under my hat. I said sure. He said, "you ever hear of something called a 'circle jerk'?"

"Not since the seventh grade," I replied.

"This whole divorce bummer has got me logy. Time to kick out the cobwebs, but everybody says don't get hung up with a new woman for at least two or three years."

"Sounds like good advice," I offered.

"Still, two or three years is a brutal amount of time to go without getting any, know what I mean?"

"Impossible. My heart goes out to you, buddy," I joked.

"So here's the idea: Now that I own the fucking house AND the fucking payments, I was thinking about throwing a new kind of party." Dave looked kind of sheepish, but I knew him well enough that it was clear to me he was leading up to something he was shy about. He looked down, cupped his hand and seemed to study his fingernails.

"What kind of party?" I asked quietly.

Whispering barely enough to be heard, Dave said, "A jackoff party. Men only. Well, that's not strictly correct: Janis Stauder will be there with Scott. The two of them already RSVP'd."

"Janis and Scott Stauder agreed to come to a jackoff party?" 

I most have raised my voice because Dave shushed me angrily and said, "Hey, man, cool it. You know, some guys would consider it a privilege to even be considered for an invitation to a deal like this."

"Sorry, Dave," I said, looking around, but nobody had heard us. "So when are you thinking of having your party, anyway?"

This Thursday night, starting about eight. Everybody but Scott tells his old lady they have to cheer me up, I'm so broke up over the divorce, they're meeting at my place to play some cards and lift a few brews. Instead of cards, we'll have a few drinks to loosen up, shoot the shit, and then at nine the bell rings and a very special card game begins. Technically nobody's lying to his wife; it's just that you're not giving her the whole truth."

"What do you mean about a bell? A special card game?"

"No way. You have to accept my invitation to find that out. See, I've read on the Internet all about putting on one of these things. Thursday at eight: can you make it? I gotta have an answer now, Gar."

So I said yes. 

Getting out of the house was not an easy proposition by any means, but I bullshitted Barb just like Dave told me and by God, it worked! By 7:45 PM that Thursday I had driven the few miles to Dave's house, parked three blocks away at a strip mall and hiked the rest of the way. I couldn't help noticing that for a closed strip mall, there were quite a few cars parked there before mine, hoods still warm, and men walking furtively ahead of me toward Dave's house on the darkened street in East Peoria. I arrived at Dave's front porch alongside one of them. We avoided each other's glances. I rang the doorbell for both of us.

Dave answered the door. "Look what the cat drug in. Gary, glad you could come, man—no pun intended. Gary, meet Mark. Mark, Gary." Mark uncertainly offered me a firm handshake. Knowing what other uses that hand might be put to later in the evening, I shook it. 

"You guys are in for a special treat tonight. We'll hang this night on the wall, trust me." 

"Mind if we come inside?" I said. "Worried what the neighbors might think."

"Fuck the neighbors," Dave said too loudly. That's when I realized he'd already had a few. When your host has had a few, you have a few to catch up. So I did, jack and cokes poured strong at the wet bar in Dave's basement rumpus room. 

There were at least twenty men, maybe twenty-five, already mingling and drinking downstairs, and one woman: Janis Stauder, all five-feet eleven inches of her, long lithe legs leading up to a big ass, if you like such things. Janis's was a big ass but well proportioned and attractive. Bloody Mary in hand, she was engaged in lively flirtatious conversation with a small group of men, none of whom was her husband. Now and then she gave forth with her characteristic loopy horselaugh, which made the men laugh even louder. Spotting me, she shook her finger at me as if to say naughty, naughty, along with a smirking, knowing smile meant only for me. Now I had to worry about Janis and Barb making girl talk and the subject of the JO party coming up. I told myself Janis wasn't the kind of woman to betray that sensitive a confidence.

Janis, her husband Scott, and Dave were the only people I knew who were in attendance; the others were strangers. I wondered what Janis was expected to do when the time came for the evening's festivities to get underway. The idea intrigued me.

It was nearly nine when I was just buzzed enough to go over and ask her. Before three words were out of my mouth, though, Dave rang a loud bell like ringside at a boxing match to get everybody's attention. 

He was talking like it was a pep rally. "All right, everybody fuckin' listen up! We all know why we're here tonight, so let's fuckin' strip and put your clothes where you can find them again later, 'cause I'm not responsible for lost or misplaced articles of clothing, like it says at the health club. This ain't the fuckin' health club, by the way. I got only one shower, and the invite specified you'd be already showered and clean enough to eat off before coming here tonight. I ain't you fuckers's mother, but I got a big jug of cocoa butter lotion here on the table for you guys that need it, and a large economy size Kleenex box and a dozen rolls of the quicker picker-upper paper towels for, shall we say, spills? So c'mon, guys, let's hustle. Time's a wastin'. Last one naked is a fuckin' rotten egg!"

We all stripped inside of three minutes. Janis deliberately waited until last, then provided us with a stimulating strip tease. The men roared when she peeled off her bra to release her 44DDD tits and expose them to everyone in the room. It was almost an anticlimax when she stepped out of her panties to reveal a most generous thickness of black wiry bush. Seeming stung by the mens' rowdy cheering at his wife's full frontal nudity, Scott pursed his lips and shifted from one foot to the other, his cock hanging out. I for one had never known that Scott was uncut, or that he was so well hung.

"All of you fuckers jaybird naked?" Dave shouted, then added, "Sorry, Janis, I didn't mean to call you a fucker."

"I am one, though; right, Scott?" Janis retorted to an even more raucous cheer.

When the noise subsided to a low roar, Dave called out the rules: "All right. Here's the fuckin' card game you lyin' fucks all told your old ladies about. I'm gonna shuffle a cut-down deck of only two suits: hearts and spades. I'm gonna deal each one of you one card. Just the men, I mean. Sorry again, Janis." Janis pretended to be disappointed; maybe she really was, I thought at the time.

"With me so far?" Dave continued. "When each of you's got a card, I'm gonna draw one card from another cut-down deck that's got only the spades suit and call that card out, get it? Whosever's got spade card to match's gotta call it out. Then we pair up the guy holding that card with whoever's been dealt the same face or number card in the hearts suit. Got it?"

"This game ain't in Hoyles, is it, Dave?" an older red-faced balding man with a short thick cock asked to nervous laughter from some of the men.

"You're fucking A this game ain't in Hoyles, Artie. This here game's According to Dave. So, everybody ready? Anybody wanna cut the cards?"

"Cut the bullshit instead," some guy hollered out from the back. Everybody laughed again. It looked and sounded like a Super Bowl party except everybody was naked.

"Here goes nothing," Dave said. He began circulation throughout the room dealing off cards to the men one by one. When he was out of cards he asked, "Everybody got one? This shit don't work right unless everybody's got one."

Four or so guys said they didn't have a card. "That's okay," Dave said, "you'll be floaters in case anybody chickens out. We all know what we're here for, don't we guys? We know what happens next, right? So if anybody's having any second thoughts or wants to pussy out before the action gets going, now's the time. Last call before the games begin."

A few men shamefacedly collected their clothes and made their way up the stairs. Several boos rang out. Dave shouted them down. "Shut the fuck up. These guys are my guests; I respect their decisions. Thanks for coming, guys, I mean it. Maybe next time," he called out after them.

"You gonna throw these parties on a regular basis, Dave?" Mark inquired.

"Let's see how it goes. Maybe, maybe not. So, we all ready for the first pair-up of the evening? Here goes." Dave held up another quarter-deck of cards, drew one off the top and announced, "Jack of spades. Hey, how 'bout that, jack of spades is number one? You can't make shit like this up. Which of you fuckers drew the jack of spades."

One guess. I was holding the jack of spades in my hand. I held my arm up high and displayed the card to whoops and cheers. Janis clapped and hollered, "Yay, Gar."

"Okay. C'mon up here, Gar. Get ready to bust your cherry, man." Naked and nervous, the fight or flight reflex rattling around my rib cage, I made my way to the front of the room where Dave had covered a ratty couch with furniture-preserving plastic like at your grandmother's house. 

"Now, who's gonna be this man's partner in crime? Who's the lucky fucker that drew the jack of hearts? C'mon, I know somebody's gotta have the jack of hearts."

An arm extended above the crowd holding up the card. "We have a winner," Dave yelled. Janis's horselaugh could be heard above the din. As soon as the crowd parted, I understood why.

Scott, my co-worker, had drawn the crucial card. In moments, Scott and I would mutually masturbate in full view and for the entertainment of his wife and a roomful of strange men.

TO BE CONTINUED...

The First Time is Always a Bitch Ch. 02



Scott loped to the front of the room and sidled tensely up to me. While we were standing there uncertain, Dave said, "Gentlemen, what these two men and eventually all of you are about to engage in is sort of the flip side of the traditional circle jerk. As you recall, in the circle jerk, the first man to cum wins the money in the pot. This game is a little bit different. The two of you get acquainted, select your own pace and start jacking each other off. When both men are fully hard, the definition of fully hard being in my sole discretion, I'll click on this stopwatch."

"Then what?" Somebody yelled. 

"Then when the second man comes, I click the stopwatch again. The team with the longest time, not the shortest, wins the game."

"What do we win?" a couple of guys asked. I thought I detected Scott flinch.

"Why do you think our gal Janis is here, dummy?" Dave said. "The two winners will finish out the evening joining in a three-way with our game girl Janis here. It's already been decided: the man in the winning team who came first gets to fuck her, while at the same time, the man on the winning team who came last—the MVP of the evening's entertainment—gets a blowjob from her. She's even agreed to swallow his cum for him, without even knowing who he is at this point? How's about a big hand for our game gal Janis?"

The crowd gave Janis a deafening ovation. I worried again about the neighbors calling the cops, especially considering the activity I would soon be engaged in with Scott.

"Ready to start?" I asked him, as much to take his mind off the grand prize as anything else.

"Sure," he nodded. We sat down next to each other on the couch. My hands and arms suddenly felt awkward, like they belonged to somebody else. Sensing my embarrassment, Scott reached slowly between my legs and gently cradled my cock in his palm. It felt so good, rougher than a woman's hand but the still the same thrilling tickling sensation. I must have jumped; some men laughed. 

"Relax," Scott said to me, but I could sense him shaking a bit all the same as he affectionately fondled the stiffening shaft and swelling head of my cock in full view of all the men in the room, not to mention his wife, who softly murmured, "oh, yeah, Baby," in apparent approval. When I groped to touch Scott's penis, averting my eyes from his face, his shaking grew almost violent; he began shuddering to the point I thought he might be having some kind of seizure. Still, I didn't want either of us to stop for any reason. 

Scott was uncut, and there seemed to be so much hide on his that it fairly slid up and down like an elephant's. Soon the head of his cock grew massive, to the point where the hole at the end opened up like a blind eye. 

I heard the first click of the stopwatch.

Scott's shivering continued. I maintained a steady rhythm, pumping his cock, but gently, for I wanted desperately to win the prize. 

It was becoming fiendishly clear that there had been a method in Dave's madness in setting the rules: the promise of a fuck or a blowjob from Janis would make all the men do everything in their power to prolong the mutual JO sessions. Dave, whom I realized was the only man in the room not to have drawn a card, had made himself the observer. He would be complicit in every heretofore-straight married man's humiliation, turning every ostensibly hetero male in the room into a bisexual in one night. 

I realized something else: if Scott and I won the prize, he would only have to share Janis with one other man in the room—me. But I sensed also that Scott was getting close to cumming already from my ministrations.

"Think about dying, Scott," I offered. "Think about disease. Think about pain."

"Pinch the tip of it," Scott leaned over and gasped into my ear. "Pinch hard. Use your fingernails."

I did. "Ah, fuck!" Scott cried out in pain like pulling off a bandage, but he stayed hard.

"How'd you like to have him suck on it, Scott?" Dave suggested malevolently. "Gar wouldn't mind, would you, Gar?" I felt Scott's prick grow even harder, stiff as a pole after he heard Dave's insinuation. And my own cock was already leaking precum as Scott stroked it, even though he slackened his pace, deliberately I thought. 

I tried something else: with the palm of my hand I pressed down on the tip of Scott's penis in a steady rolling motion. If I had thought this trick would delay Scott's orgasm, I couldn't have been more wrong. With an explosive gasp, Scott pulled my hand away' rolled toward me and started rubbing his cock against my thigh. I felt hot spurting cum shoot all over my inner thigh and against my abdomen, an awesome load that clung to me like glue.

"Whoo, looks like Scott really had to get off," Dave jeered. "Maybe Janis hasn't been taking care of him often enough at home, right, guys?"

Scott mumbled, "sorry," but kept away at me, jacking my cock in slow rhythm to the music Dave had put on the stereo. I recognized it as an old Fiona Apple number: Criminal. Scott never took his eyes off mine, as though trying to read something in my face. Maybe he thought staring me down would distract me from cumming, I don't know, but before the song was over, I lost my chance at Janis when I came in her husband's hand. It had felt so dirty and so good, better than any hand job I'd ever gotten from Barb. I guess it takes a man to know what thrills another man. 

TO BE CONTINUED 



The First Time is Always a Bitch Ch. 03



The stopwatch clicked a second time. "Eight minutes thirty-seven seconds," Dave announced. "Not bad. Not bad at all. Okay, round two. We have the seven of spades. Seven of spades is Markie Mark. Way to go, buddy. Who's got the seven of hearts? All right, Ralphie, my main man, front and center."

Two other men took our places on the couch and got down and dirty. Having been preoccupied with my own performance and Scott's, I hadn't realized two things that were becoming increasingly apparent. One, the guys on the teams that got called up later were likely to be progressively drunker and drunker as the night wore on and nervousness led to more drinking. If either member of the team could not get hard, the team forfeited. Two, Dave was going to disqualify any man who came prematurely, either accidentally or on purpose, before his card was drawn. After all, once the object of the game was disclosed and everybody knew that the last man standing, so to speak, won a blowjob from Janis, it wouldn't be fair. That's why Dave was careful to keep an eye on the spectators to make sure no one came secretly to increase his endurance during the main event. Even so, many of the older men were twiddling with themselves, fanning their fingers and whipping their cocks around trying to stay hard.

I could gauge by Mark's breathing and the purple veins bulging out on his forehead, not to mention his cock, that he was close to cumming. Sure enough, within moments he shot a big load easily three feet into the air. Some of it hit his partner across the nose. His partner, an insurance-salesman type with glasses and love handles, took it in stride. Maybe being hit in the face with another man's semen turned him on, because by the count of ten he was spasmodically pumping his pelvis, gasping and groaning over his own very public orgasm.

"Two minutes twelve seconds," Dave sounded off. "Leaders are still Gary and Scott. Next card is the deuce of spades. Who do we have on deck? Josh and Shawn. This could be a contest. Fellas, whenever you're ready."

Two young guys swaggered up to the couch. They made the mistake of squirting some lotion on themselves before getting started—a tactical error. For the first time I dared think that maybe Scott and I had a chance to win, which would mean a public blowjob from Janis while Scott looked on and fucked her. My prediction proved accurate. The lotion increased the slipperiness of the jackoff session and in under a minute both men came. 

It was going on eleven o'clock. Team after team had taken their turns at bat but so far no one had gone even eight minutes to give us a serious challenge. Some of the older men who'd been drinking couldn't get it up even with a bi guy acting as a fluffer, and so were disqualified under a ten-minute rule Dave had enacted on the spot. After two hours of this kind of action it began to seem the most natural and innocent entertainment in the world watching pairs of men masturbate each other trying to hold out the longest. For her part Janis watched intently the whole time, offering frequent and timely encouragement.

Finally, well after midnight the last two cards were drawn: the queen of spades and the queen of hearts. No one had beaten our time or even come close. The last two men, Derrick and Kyle, assumed their positions on the couch and started in. Both looked like construction workers or personal trainers, both about thirty-five. Derrick was hairy as a bear, Kyle smooth-shaven like a swimmer. Derrick prefaced the action by saying, "Give me what you got" to Kyle, and they started jacking each other. Both were hard in no time; Dave admiringly said, "geez," and clicked the stopwatch the first time. I glanced at the wall clock: twelve twenty-four AM. Kyle and Derrick each breathed evenly from his diaphragm. Clearly they both were concentrating, trying to forestall climax and prolong and control pleasure. But pleasure is a tricky thing to control. Six minutes passed, then seven. The only sounds were the mens' breathing and the squeak and rustle of the plastic slipcover in tempo to the team players' pumping motions. 

It was quiet enough to hear a cell phone on vibration mode. Dave answered it and informed Derrick, "It's your old lady, Dude. You want I should tell her you'll call her back, or what?" Wordlessly Derrick reached for the cell phone, took it in his free hand and said, "Yeah?" He listened for half a minute while Dave motioned for the crowd to stay quiet. Derrick kept jacking Kyle with his right hand, saying nothing. I looked again at the wall clock: twelve thirty-two.

But something was happening. Derrick tensed, then said, "Yeah I know what time it is. It's—hold on a minute, okay?" He waved the phone frantically at Dave, who took it from him and hung on to it. Pulsing jets of semen erupted from the tip of Derrick's massive cock. At the same time Kyle groaned, "Aw, shit," and came along with his partner. Derrick said, "Bitch fucked up my concentration."

Dave clicked the stopwatch and announced, "Eight minutes, seventeen seconds. The winners and new champions by a count of twenty seconds: Scott and Gary!" All the men cheered loudly if begrudgingly. Derrick was back on the phone trying to explain to his wife what was going on and why there was so much noise at a card game.

The crowd parted for Janis's relaxed stride. She stood facing us, hands on hips. "Looks like you boys won fair and square," she said. "Ready for your prize?"

I glanced at Scott, who said, "Go for it, man. She wants you to."

"Ready as I'll ever be, Janis," I said. 

The men crammed in three-deep to watch us position ourselves. Janis crouched on all fours on top of the coffee table and waited; Scott moved to Janis's rear while I stood in front. Some man behind Scott said, "Oh, man, he's gonna fuck her in the ass with that fucking salami." 

Scott squirted some of the lotion on his burgeoning member, then asked me, "Little help, Gar?" I rubbed it in for him, feeling him get even harder than the first time. I could scarcely get my hand around the powerful base of his cock. "Do the honors?" he then asked. "I never could get the damn thing in." 

So after smearing a liberal quantity of lotion around Janis's asshole—she moaned, "That feels so cool,"—I guided Scott's cock in for him. Janis grunted and moaned like someone straining at a big turd, and then he was in. Janis's asshole looked stretched to the limit. "God, that hurts sooo good," she groaned. Scott began gingerly fucking her in the ass. The more Janis moaned and gasped, the harder Scott fucked her. 

"Yes, it really does feel like I'm taking a great big shit right now, in case anybody's interested," Janis confided to the room. Then looking up at me, she added, "Don't you have something for me, Gar?" She smiled; Janis has buck teeth but they give her a glamour look, quite attractive. Wondering if she would take it easy with those prominent teeth against my cock, I moved closer and offered it to her luscious mouth. She kissed the very tip, then lewdly licked up and down the shaft. Several men sighed with envy. 

I stood there naked with my hands behind my back while my friend's wife took my entire penis into her mouth and sucked it expertly while her husband and twenty-some other men watched our every move. Janis looked up at me, watching my expression with every downstroke. I could feel the lewd pressure of her tongue against the sensitive underbelly of my penis. Every time she'd come up for air she'd release her tender suction on the head of my cock with an audible popping sound. Every release made my dick bounce like a spring. The only time I felt the teeth was when she released suction and caught her breath. Scott fucking her in the ass made it impossible for her to breathe normally it seemed.

I found myself looking into Scott's eyes while the three of us worked. Scott reached under Janis and began fondling one of her huge breasts, both of them hanging down like water balloons full to bursting. He nodded to me and whispered, "Go ahead," inviting me to join him. I fondled her other breast. The feel of her mouth on my cock was indescribable the harder I became. I didn't want her to gag but could not resist adding some hip-pumping motion of my own, fucking her in the face. One time I went too far; Janis gagged and choked. I withdrew at once, but she caught her breath in time and said, "S'awright. More, give me more. Give me every inch you got, Stud."

All at once I felt some man's hand on my ass, then a probing finger fumbling for my asshole. The pleasure Janis was giving me was too intense to interrupt. The persistent finger became two, finding the portal of my asshole and wriggling in, deeper and deeper. I felt the cold squirt of creamy lotion being applied to the crack of my ass, followed by penetration by what could only have been a man's hard cock. The friction inside of me gave me a new and shuddering kind of thrill, especially when I felt the firm urging pressure against my prostate.

"Now you know how I feel," Janis said. I twisted and craned my neck but with my cock in Janis's mouth I couldn't turn far enough to make out whose cock was up my ass, and he did not have the good manners to introduce himself. He fucked me for many minutes after that, his hands squeezing and spreading the cheeks of my ass; I didn't protest, it was too gratifying in a disgraceful way.

Finally Janis asked, "Are you getting ready to cum for me, Gar?" The ass-fucking came harder and harder. I couldn't answer, but then the pressure from within grew so intense I exploded in Janis's mouth. 

As soon as she sensed my cum in her she opened her mouth and extended the full breadth of her tongue, capturing my semen like a living spoon. Some of it caught on her front teeth and dripped down; a few stray drops caught her in one eye so that in managing it she appeared to be winking. I thought I was done, but a few seconds later I called out, "Oh, shit," and a few more drops of my cum pulsated all over her face and into her long auburn hair. 

All the men noisily expressed their raucous approval at my climax, which my anonymous male partner had deeply intensified by his unexpected but not unwelcome intrusion. He must have withdrawn during my dizzying oral climax with Janis. Unperturbed, Scott continued to pump away at Janis's asshole.

I felt a hand on my shoulder, turned and met Dave's leering expression. "It was you, wasn't it?" I demanded.

"You think I'd want to fuck you in the ass? No way, Dude. That's not my scene. No, I was going to ask you if you'd like to reciprocate for Scott."

"Say what?"

"Scott seems to be having some trouble getting off. Now that Scott's wife Janis has been so kind as to give you a life-changing blow job, some of the guys thought it would be only fair if you'd offer to reciprocate, and give Scott the same thing you got from Janis. Interested?"

He may have meant it as a joke, but after the evening's activities I considered the question. I turned and asked Scott, "The question is, are you interested?" Looking me right in the eye, he nodded affirmatively.

The men whooped and hollered when I approached Scott and kneeled facing him. Scott withdrew from Janis's asshole—she moaned at first, then said, "Whoo that tingles. I feel all jingly and numb down there, like I just shit out a whale. Anybody wanna kiss my boo boo?" Several men spontaneously volunteered. Janis selected one, upended her big ass and let him bend over and tongue her anus for a minute or two. She thanked him, then turned and lay back on her elbows to watch the action between her husband and me. 

Scott's cock still bore traces of Janis's shit. He halfheartedly wiped it off with a single swipe of thumb and forefinger before presenting his big cock to me. I spread my fingers across his taut abdomen, braced my thumbs under his tender inflamed balls and took the head of his engorged penis into my mouth. The taste of it was bitter, but if I didn't breathe through my nose I found I couldn't taste the shit. And anyway, after a few full-shaft sucks on Scott's penis the taste went away.



The First Time is Always a Bitch Ch. 04



While I was blowing Scott, Janis was engaging in conversation with some of the men, including the one who'd tongued her asshole. In addition to carrying on a conversation, she was carrying on with some of them, jacking two cocks at once and playing with a third man's using her extraordinarily dexterous toes. "Modern women know it's very sophisticated for their men to be bi," she asserted. "For instance, do you know what Scotty and I did last weekend? Shall I tell, Scotty?"

Scott responded, "What?" and then, "Oh, okay," and laughed.

Janis said, "Last weekend Scott and I took our utility van—the one I use in my catering business—to one of the gentleman's clubs, you know, the upscale strip clubs, one of the nicer ones. I dance there occasionally; the tips come in handy." 

I made a mental note to find out which one and be ringside the next time Janis decided to perform. "Anyway," she went on, "we parked in the lot and, whenever a man who seemed to be a likely prospect walked by, I'd lean out the window and say, 'Excuse me, sir, may I interest you in a blow job?' Well, of course every one of them comes over and says yes. Scott's sitting right there in the passenger seat. Then I say, 'Would you mind letting my husband do the honors?' You'd be amazed—or maybe you wouldn't—how many men go in the back of the van for Scott to blow them. How many did we count, Honey?"

"Fourteen," Scott sighed in answer as I sucked away on his huge cock.

"Fourteen men. So don't think this is the button-down fifties anymore: most men are interested in sexual action with other men as well as women. They just don't always admit it, think its unmasculine or something. I think it's broadminded and fantastic for my man to be sucking cock, or like tonight, getting blown by one of our men friends. Stick a finger up his ass if you want him to cum good, Gar."

"Are you two swingers?" one man asked her, Janis's big toe and second toe of each foot forming twin V's and running leisurely up and down the shaft of his cock.

"Duh," she said. "Sure we flirted with The Lifestyle for a while, but even that got kind of routine, fucking and sucking the same old married couples every weekend. No, for it to be exciting there always has to be new blood. Somebody's first time, that kind of action. Like tonight, for instance. This is a great idea of Dave's—I commend you, dear heart—but week in, week out even this scene could get dull and boring, seeing the same men jack each other off all the time."

"Wait 'til you hear what I have in mind for next Thursday," Dave said. 

"I can't imagine. There you go, Sweetie. See how you are?" Janis added as one of the men she was jacking off came in her hand.

Dave explained: "Gar and Scott have given me an idea: blow job marathons. See, the plan is that we draw two guys at random. They flip a coin to see which one sucks the other one's cock. I hold a stopwatch on them. It's a competition. The sucker is trying to make the suckee cum as fast as possible, while the suckee is trying to hold out as long as he can. When the first guy cums, they switch off."

"How do you pick a winner?" someone asked.

"I haven't worked out all the details, but there would be some kind of elimination, like in a basketball tournament, with the winner being the guy who held out the longest after all the times are compared. See, the trouble with tonight was every team was trying to hold out. My new idea is more every man for himself: you have every guy trying to make every other guy cum as quick as possible, to make him lose, in other words."

"Sounds to me like even when he loses, he wins," Janis observed. 

"That's right. Look, Janis, I think Gar's finally taking your advice."

It was true. I had never stuck my finger up another man's asshole before, but it went in almost effortlessly with the cocoa butter lotion, and Scott's prostate was easy to find. I massaged it from inside. Before long I began to taste the warm slick of his semen in my mouth. Wanting it to look like the action in a porno movie, I withdrew and jacked his cock with rapid strokes, aiming it directly at my face mere inches away. 

Scott came like a river. The man seemed to have an infinite capacity to ejaculate. "Hoo, there she blows," Janis whooped. I milked and milked, tongue-kissing the tip of his cock to get the last few drops out. At the sight of Scott's cumming, the man Janis was toe-jacking came all over her feet. He was one of the older guys who couldn't get it up with another man earlier in the evening, and was a total failure with the fluffer. Feet must have been his thing.

Dave seemed to have read my mind. "I got it," he said. "To make it even more interesting, let's have the first guy who cums in under a minute, say, let's make him the fluffer. Yeah, that's it: tonight was too slow. We need to have a fluffer going around and sucking everybody's cock to keep all the men stimulated and hard. Then when they step up to be counted, it's gonna be difficult as hell to hold out."

"What if some guy cums in the fluffer's mouth, though?" Janis asked.

"Then he's disqualified. And another thing: I don't mind hosting, but the booze and snacks can get expensive, not to mention the pain in the ass cleanup. How would you guys feel about a nominal cover charge, say ten bucks? Buys you all you can eat and drink?" Some men laughed at the "all you can eat" reference, so Dave added, "You fuckers know what I mean."

Judging from the voice vote, everyone agreed. "What if I bring along a girlfriend or two next time?" Janis asked.

"Sounds hot," Dave replied.

Next Thursday seemed to take forever to arrive. Scott and I rarely spoke at the office all week, as though we were pretending we did not share a secret bond that had not existed a mere week ago, an intimate knowledge of one another the world would refuse to understand or accept. Dave was the same old Dave, reminding me whenever we were alone about his "BJ party" on Thursday night, and how I should be sure to hand the same lame card- game story to my old lady so I could get out of the house. It wasn't nearly so easy as the first time.

"How about spending some quality time with your wife instead of that loser?" Barb bitched Thursday at about seven when the two of us were alone in the master bedroom. "Didn't you go over there no more than a week ago, and not get home until three AM or whatever?"

"Barb, the guy is all broken up about his wife leaving him. What can I say? I'm afraid of what might happen if his friends don't give him the support he needs now in this crisis."

"I don't know," Barb snarled. "How do I know all you're doing is playing cards and not going out to a strip club or whorehouse?"

"After twenty-three years of marriage don't you even trust me that much?"

"Well, okay. But call me every now and then, okay? Don't forget you have a wife who's got certain needs, too."

"I won't forget." My heart sang with the knowledge I'd gotten away with it once more. On the drive over my mind raced with the anticipation of oral delights. For an extra added bonus, Scott had confirmed that Janis would indeed be bringing along "a girlfriend or two." for the evening.

Recklessly I parked directly in front of Dave's house. Janis's van was nowhere to be seen. Dave answered the door and collected ten bucks a head, no pun intended. Then it was down to the basement rumpus room and off with the clothes. Word had certainly gotten around; there were maybe thirty guys or more milling around naked, drinks in hand. Among them was Mickey Hobbs, Yvonne's husband, and my boss Mr. Reid from the office. He raised his eyebrows at seeing me, but I didn't care. After all, we were both there looking for the same thing. I wondered what it would be like to suck my boss's cock in public. I'd already been kissing his ass for years.

Every few minutes the doorbell rang. Soon Dave's house was filled to capacity with naked men, but no Janis. Oh, well: it's a lady's prerogative to be late. 

It was after eight-thirty when Janis finally made her grand entrance, nude descending the stairs. Her breasts were spectacular with a sheen of glowing perspiration from the closeness; I wanted to explore the jungle recesses of her luxuriant bush with my tongue. Those legs of hers did not quit, either.

"Evening, fellas," she called out. "Hope you men don't mind—I've brought along a couple of new playmates for you to get to know."

Roars of appreciation filled the rafters. 

"Thought you wouldn't object. Well, then, without further ado here's my first little playmate, and I use the term 'little' advisedly: say hello to Yvette Smith!"

My jaw nearly dropped into my Jack and coke when I witnessed Yvonne Hobbs coming down the stairway, naked as the day she was born and a whole lot sexier. If I was surprised, you should have seen Mickey's reaction. He sidled over to her and hissed, "Goddamnit, Yvonne, put your clothes on!"

"Beg pardon?" Yvonne addressed him archly. "Do I know you, sir?" 

Every hothead who abuses women is also a coward. Amidst cries of "Let her alone," and "Back off," Mickey the hothead stood down and retreated into a neutral corner, licking his jealousy wounds. Yvonne was much in demand, instantly drawing a small throng of male admirers and obviously reveling in every minute of it. I moved toward her but the press of the crowd made it difficult to navigate.

"I thought you said you'd brought along was one more little friend, Janis," Dave reminded her.

"Why, now that you mention it, so I did, Dave," Janis clowned. "Where has she been hiding herself? Maybe a quick trip to the little girls' room to freshen up. Angie? Angie, don't be shy, dear, you're among friends. Come down here and let everyone see you."

Familiar feet appeared at the head of the stairs, familiar feet that turned into familiar legs and a familiar pussy and ass, familiar tits and a familiar face. It was Barb! 

The men roared and clapped with approval. Mickey shot me a look that said How do you like it, asshole?

I was speechless. It was Janis who broke the tension, explaining, "I told Barb all about it even before you came last Thursday. Why did you think you had it so easy getting out of the house on a weeknight?"

Barb stood and posed midway down the stairway. Her honey hair with dark highlights shone like spun gold, which always made a startling contrast to her natural black pussy hair. Barb always kept her bush neatly trimmed, but for tonight she had shaved it clean, revealing the tender peach mound and exposing the fleshy distended apricot lips that are the hallmark of a mature woman's vulva. She gave everyone an extra-special get-acquainted gynecological look at herself by balancing her right heel on the banister for a full minute.

Barb had been dancing at a strip club in Carbondale, IL when we first met. She was older now but still knew all the moves. She could easily squat, grasp and pick up a Bud longneck with her pussy lips back then. I found myself wanting to see her try that trick again. Seeing Barb naked for a roomful of appreciative men stripped thirty years off me. My cock got hard just looking at her. 

Barb made good on her entrance, crossed the room amid a sea of hands groping her breasts, ass and pussy to get to me. She brushed her naked body against mine, grasped the head of my cock and shook it like shaking hands, repeating the very same words she had first uttered to me the first time we met so many years ago: "Welcome to the Chalet Lounge. Pleased to meet you. My name's Barb."

"Gary," I replied, and tenderly kissed her.

Dave rang a bell. "Listen up, you fuckers: it's showtime!" I looked at Barb; she looked at me lovingly. "Go ahead, Gar," she whispered. "Momma knows. It's okay. I don't want to deprive you of this."

The cards were drawn. This time I wasn't first. Instead, Mickey Hobbs got teamed up with Mr. Reid. Dave flipped the coin; Mickey called it heads.

"Are they really going to go through with this? In front of everybody?" Barb wondered aloud.

"Keep watching," I said.

Dave checked the coin. "Heads it is. And head it is," he added. 

Mr. Reid got down on his knees and inspected Mickey's cock like you do when you're not sure whether something's good to eat. He took a breath like going for a dive underwater, then plunged right in, sucking like a pro. Dave clicked the stopwatch as soon as my boss's lips touched Mickey's penis.

"Oh, my!" Barb marveled. "He's really going at it, isn't he?"

"He plays to win," I said. On the other side of the room, Yvonne looked up from her marathon male-pleasing conversation just long enough to see her husband's cock in another man's mouth, and gave a quick, startled laugh. The laugh seemed to get to Mickey. He clenched his jaw and stubbornly crossed his arms over his chest, fighting what by now, judging from my boss's full-fledged assault on his manhood, must have been an almost unbearable urge to cum.

He lasted four minutes. Dave clicked the stopwatch just as the first jets of semen began decorating Mr. Reid's face. My boss said, "piker," wiped his face with a paper towel and turned away like nothing had happened. 

"Hold on," Dave said. "Now we switch places. Mr. Reid, front and center. Mickey, on your knees."

Mickey sucked halfheartedly at Mr. Reid's thin curved cock. When Mickey came up for air we all noticed that the head of my boss's erect peter seemed oversized for the thin shaft, almost like a mushroom. "He certainly has an unusually shaped penis, your boss," Barb observed.

In just under five minutes Mr. Reid came, shivering spasmodically when he did so.

"Okay. All right. Next card drawn is...four of clubs. Who's holding four if diamonds?" The unexpected throng of men had made it necessary for Dave to use the entire 52-card deck including the jokers. The four of clubs was an older guy with sagging man-boobs and a thin white thatch of hair on his chest and a thicker one on his pubes. I had drawn the four of diamonds. It looked to be turning into a long evening.

"Are you really going to suck that guy's cock while your wife and everybody else watches? Barb asked, incredulous.

"That's how the game is played," I replied. The guy couldn't ever get more than semi-erect. Finally Dave called time. "Disqualified. Next time take Viagra," he said. My mouth was sore and I had to keep picking white pubic hairs out of my mouth while the old guy went down on me. I kept staring at Barb the whole time, also looking over her shoulder at Yvonne, who had moved forward to survey the action. Yvonne's tits were so low-slung they went halfway to her waist, but something about her sure turned me on. Before I realized what was happening, Dave had clicked the stopwatch on me a second time.

"Fifty-four seconds, man!" Dave sneered. "What a fucking disgrace! Looks like we've got us a new fluffer for the evening."



The First Time is Always a Bitch Ch. 05



Chapter Five: Short-Arm-ageddon

"Gary, what does he mean? What's a fluffer?" Barb despite her marginal and distant background in the adult entertainment industry was woefully ignorant of porn terminology.

Dave clued her in. "That's somebody who sucks cocks off-screen to keep everybody up. Looks like we got us a few men in the crowd losing air pressure already. Better get busy and start doing your new job, Gar."

I balked. "Nobody ever told us what the prize is tonight. Like for instance, last Thursday was a session with Janis. What's the winner gonna get this time besides a face covered in cum?"

"Funny you should mention that," Dave said. "Our three lovely ladies in attendance this evening have graciously agreed to pose for a bukkake session for the ten lucky winners. This time it's not winner take all."

Mickey went ballistic. "Yvonne! That fucking does it! We're getting the hell out of here. Now!"

"Do you hear something?" Yvonne mocked him, cupping a hand to her ear.

"Not a thing," Barb replied, playing along.

"Total silence," Janis agreed. Cursing under his breath, Mickey stalked up the stairs, shooting the whole room a look that dared anyone to follow him.

"You know, Dave," Janis said, "the thing is, it's getting kinda late, and I don't wanna see Gary have to fluff everybody up all night long. I have an idea."

"What's that?"

"Let's throw in all the cards and turn this into a bukkakefest right now. If you girls agree?"

Barb and Yvonne nodded eagerly, if a bit shyly. 

"Best idea I've heard all night," Dave said. "Give me a hand with this plastic tarp, Gar. Roll it out over that open floor area there." In no time we had set up an impromptu bukkake arena for the ladies, who kneeled back-to-back in a circle at the center. 

"How about video?" somebody asked.

"Do I think of everything or what?" Dave laughed, producing a small videocam he'd somehow managed to hold back in the divorce. "Any of you ladies camera-shy?"

"Long as you don't show our faces," Janis laughed.

"Great fucking bukkake vid if I can't show your faces," Dave said. "Look, what say I make a deal with you; if you gals let me videotape the whole thing, I promise not to post it on the Internet or anything. Nobody gets a look at it outside of the people in this room. How's that?"

"What do you say, Yvonne? Barb? Shall we let him?" Janis asked.

"I'd love a keepsake," Yvonne said. "I don't know about you, Barb."

Looking straight at me, Barb said, "Whatever it takes to get this party going."

"All right, men," Dave said. "Mind your manners, no crowding or shoving. They'll be plenty opportunities for everybody to get a turn. Or two. Or three." 

Six men gathered around like it was a scrimmage. Janis took one cock, then added a second in her mouth. Yvonne jacked two and sucked on a third. The third guy was me. Getting a world-class blow job from Yvonne that fulfilled all my fantasies and then some, I watched as three men crowded around my wife and offered her their cocks. She'd pump a few quick sucks on one, then switch to the next and so on, doing a round robin. 

When the man on Barb's right seemed to be getting close, she focused all her attention on him. He moaned once before his voice caught and he ejaculated his cum profusely all over Barb's forehead and the bridge of her nose. She squealed with surprised delight, then said in a smoky sensuous voice, "Who else wants to cum on my face?"

The second man Barb was blowing started pumping away, forcefully fucking my wife in the face with a broad-headed cock that looked eight or nine inches long and was sheathed in veins that bulged like those in a power lifter's arms. He whispered something to her that sounded like "be my cocksucking whore." A moment later he withdrew just in time to shoot a load of cum so powerfully that most of it landed in Barb's hair. She caught the last few shots in her mouth and, after running her tongue across her upper teeth, affected a sultry expression and mouthed the words, "Thank you." 

The two men who had cum on Barb were quickly replaced, and soon my wife's face was egged with so much cum she couldn't open her eyes. The next few men moved on to her tits; soon those too were plastered. Barb took a cue from Janis and took two cocks at a time into her mouth while two other men waiting for blowjobs swirled their dickheads around her nipples that were already slick with semen. 

Yvonne favored me with a long slow blowjob that outlasted two sets of men getting hand jobs from her. You had to give Yvonne credit: that girl sure was ambidextrous. 

When I told her, "Baby, I'm getting close," she winked at me. The wild pleasure was building in me like a volcano as she sucked away; she sensed it and sucked even harder trying to bring out the cum. Yvonne knew tricks to stimulate me that a woman only learns with practice and that are impossible unless the woman truly enjoys sucking a man's cock. Yvonne wasn't faking; I could tell she was reveling in the experience of fellating me while squatting ass cheek to ass cheek with Barb who was busy doing the same thing to two other men.

Dave circled around like a referee with the videocam, moving in for extreme close-ups every time there was a money shot, meanwhile giving forth with a play-by-play monologue of encouragement. He had zeroed in for a closeup of my penis in Yvonne's mouth, her head pumping away so fast it must have blurred the image on video, when I reached the breaking point. 

"I'm cumming," I gasped. Yvonne instantly pulled her mouth away and caressed the head of my cock against her face. Her cheek was so soft. I felt a hot urgency to paint her entire face with my cum. Maybe it was the presence of the camera: there is a bit of the exhibitionist in my, as you've no doubt surmised if you've managed to read this far. I blasted a load of cum that strung from Yvonne's lips to her hairline and pooled alongside her left nostril. She posed with eyes fully open and a wide smile across her face. After I finally withdrew to give someone else a chance at her, a persistent droolstring of cum stretched between my cock tip and one corner of her mouth. She broke it when she spoke these words: "Did you know it's been my secret dream to have your cum on my face for a long, long time now? I hope you enjoyed it."

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Barb pause in running head for a couple of guys. "Thanks, Baby," I said. "It's one fantasy that we've definitely shared; only neither of us knew it until now."

"Come here, Gary." Barb's voice was a command. I obeyed, kneeling down beside her. Her face was a mess of commingled cum. Her mascara ran into it like clown tears; her lipstick looked as smeared as though a child playing dress-up had applied it. She leaned over, pressed her face against mine and gave me a deep tongue kiss. With deft index fingers she swept the cum from both eyes and blinked.

"Why don't you see if you can get me a wet washcloth, Gar? Most of this party's all over my face." I complied. She sponged her face and tits, then said, "Is our marriage ever going to be the same after this?"

"I don't know. Better, maybe?"

"Better it is, then. Let's go home; it's late and you have to get up for work in the morning."

"I don't think work is going to be the same again either."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"I don't know. It's a thing."

"Do you think Mickey and Yvonne are going to stay together?"

"God," I said, "I hope not."

Barb hesitated a long time before saying, "I suppose we could invite her over sometime next week for dinner."

"Any day but Thursday," I said.

"You read my mind, Gar. You read my mind."