Date: Mon, 16 May 2016 19:46:31 +0000 (UTC)
From: simon peter <simon23232@yahoo.com>
Subject: Simon's Twenty-second Birthday Party

Dear Reader

This story, like many of my other stories, has elements that are based on
real personal experiences.

However, the names and places are all fictitious.

If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so:
simon23232@yahoo.com

I would love to read your comments and suggestions.

Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks.

Simon


Simon's Twenty-second Birthday Party

By Simon Peter


Note: This story is fictitious. I used the names Simon and Peter because I
love those names. They are special to me and I thought I needed to use
them. They do not refer to my pen-name, although I wish the events of this
story were real for me. Unhappily, the story is the work of my own
imagination based on an idea of a hundred-people birthday party given to me
by one of my readers. Except that I couldn't think of 100 people!

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please share
with me your comments and perhaps suggestions.

Simon

"I'm going to invite one hundred guys to my birthday party."

Simon smiled as he watched the look his lover, Peter, gave him.

"You have to be kidding me," Peter said, his eyes wide.

"Nope. One hundred... and their partners," Simon added mischievously.

Peter knew that Simon was a slut. But he loved the guy. They had been
together for two months now and it seemed that they would stay together for
a while longer, although Peter had caught Simon ogling guys that passed
by. Simon was not the one to stick to one dick exclusively; he just slutted
for cock, and Peter knew that and accepted it.

"No way, Simes. Where are you going to get 100 guys? And where would they
fit?"

"They'll fit," Simon kept the smile. "Here. If they stay close to each
other, that is," he laughed.

The house was not that big, but it had a yard, a porch and a small swimming
pool and Jacuzzi. They had moved into the house when they piled their
incomes together. Simon had accumulated some money from the editing job he
had, even after he paid his college tuition for a Masters in English. Peter
was doing good money also in sales commission.

"Come on, baby. There's no way that you can have so many people. Besides,
where would you get the 100?"

"Easy. There are 32 classmates."

"But, Simes, half of them are chicks. And you don't know how many of the
guys are gay."

"People are people, Petey. Guys or chicks, all are welcome. And I do know
about the guys, by the way, Four." Simon winked.

"There are 4 gay guys in your class?" Peter asked.

"Possibly more. These are the ones I did," Simon smiled, raising his
eyebrows.

"Man, you're such a slut. And the rest?"

"Well, there are the guys at the gym, five. That's 37. Also, I will invite
the neighbors. This way there will be no complaints about the noise and
music. Eight younger ones. 45. Do you think we should invite the parents?"

"Fuck, no. Are you crazy?"

Simon laughed. "And you know these two guys that drive by in their private
security cruiser? Them.

One of them is cuter than cute. And the swimming pool cleaner, Miguel, the
Mexican hunk. So that's 48."

"How about the pizza delivery boy?" Peter said jokingly.

"Oh, yes. 49."

"You must be kidding, Simes. The pizza delivery guy?"

"We did have some fun with him last week, didn't we? He gobbled on your
dick like a siphon."

Peter put up his hands in hopeless despair. "You're incorrigible."

"Uuuuu, Big word, Petey. Bigger than your dick," Simon teased, grabbing at
Peter's crotch.

"Hey, man. Stop it. We just fucked a half an hour ago. And you loved being
plowed by my big dick, didn't you? You even screamed for more." Robert was
teasing back. But it was true. Simon was insatiable for cock once his ass
was open, which was pretty often.

"So? We can fuck again. Unless you're not man enough?" Simon kneaded the
front of Peter's boxers, feeling the cock inside lengthen.

"Oh, man, I'm so going to fuck you. Simon, I'm going so deep into you that
your fucking bowels are going to eject out of your fucking mouth."

"Promises, promises," Simon said, squeezing on the now erecting penis. He
loved Robert's penis. He was crazy about Robert's penis. Actually, among
the men who fucked him, Robert was the best. And that was saying much!

"You're still way behind your hundred," Peter said as he looked down and
watched Simon making him erect.

"There's eight from the office. How many in your office can you invite?"
Simon said, snaking his hand inside the boxers fly, finding the semi-erect
cock and pulling on it.

"Oh, man, fuck," Peter breathed deeply, arching his back as he felt Simon's
hand around his dick. "Ten.

I can get ten," he said in a voice turning husky. Simon could do this to
him. He could get him hard and willing even seconds after he ejaculated.

"Ok, then 18," Simon said, feeling the erection harden in the palm of his
hand. Oh, yea, he loved Peter's cut, mushroomed cock. "Plus 49, that's
what? 67. Great. All we need is 33 more."

"How about the football and basketball and rugby teams while you're at it?"
Peter managed to joke as he humped Simon's hand.

"Fuck, yea, reminds me: the guys from the gym. Four. And the massage guys:
2. And my tennis partner: 1. Ok, 74." Simon knelt in front of Peter, fished
out the hard rod, and kissed the cut knob.

Peter moaned. He wasn't counting anymore. But he was sure that Simon, now
working the knob with his lips and tongue, would get a hundred and more.

"Suck my dick, Simon," Peter moaned.

Simon looked up. "And remember those four guys we met at the bar?" he said
as he stroked the hard cock, licking the underside of the ridge, managing
to speak at the same time.

"Suck my fucking dick, man," Peter thrust his hips forward.

"78," Simon said before he resumed taking Peter's cock between his lips. He
dove down on the shaft and swallowed all the way, pursing his lips around
the base.

Peter almost passed out. He placed both hands on Simon's head and pushed
harder, almost driving his balls into the hungry mouth.

"Not to forget my study group," Simon gurgled as he got off the throbbing
cock. "Five."

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you." Peter was so horny that he couldn't understand
what Simon was talking about. He grabbed Simon, pulled down his shorts,
lifted his ass, and drove in, with force.

"83," Simon managed to say, inhaling, as Peter's cock split his now sore
ass from the earlier fucking. "I need 17 more."

Peter thrust hard and deep. "Keep counting, bitch," Peter plowed faster,
holding onto Simon's hair, riding him like a dog, pulling his head
back. "Count, you hot fuck."

Simon grunted under Peter's thrusts. "Eigh... eighty th.. th.. three. My
six ex-lovers, th... th... ahhh...

those still in town... ahh... fuck, yea Petey, baby, deeper you hot
fucker. eighty-fucking-nine."

Peter exploded with a vengeance. He felt his nuts following his semen out
of his buried cock, spewing deep into Simon.

"Ohgodohgodohgoooooddddd!" he screamed as squirt after squirt shot out of
him.

Peter dropped back on his ass, heaving from the intensity of his
ejaculation. Simon turned around and took the dripping cock into his mouth,
sending further sensations through Peter's body.

"I need eleven more," Simon slobbered on the cock, looking up into Peter's
eyes. "Just eleven."

"Keep sucking, you little fuck-shit," Peter ordered.

Simon swallowed the slimy cock to the base.

"I will ask my ex," Peter managed to say.

"Ninety," Simon held the cock in the palm of his hand, licking the sweat
off Peter's taught belly and stomach. "Ten more, baby."

They kissed, tasting cum.

"We can call our parents," Simon joked and Peter slapped his butt.

Simon couldn't get the ten more to reach one hundred, so they settled for
ninety.

The party was going to be the following Saturday, 7 May, Simon's 22nd
birthday. Ninety people with their partners would crowd the house; that was
for sure.

The party was in full swing. Simon dressed in white cotton pants, showing
red string jocks underneath, accentuating his butt, and a red cotton top,
Indian style. He wore sandals. He tied his pony tail pulling his long hair
straight back from his face, showing his handsome, somewhat feminine
features. He bustled around, full of smiles and drinks, and finger foods,
which every one of the invitees brought with them.

Peter, on the other hand, looked straighter than straight, groomed, short
hair, blue jeans, a bit tight on the crotch, white buttoned-down shirt,
with one button open at the neck. Just a regular, handsome, straight
boy. Simon had unbuttoned the top two buttons, showing Peter's patch of
hair.

"You're so fucking sexy," Simon mooned as he fondled the dark, curly chest
hairs.

Everyone was enjoying the party, crowded, noisy, but full of joy. There
were people out on the swimming pool/Jacuzzi deck, in the yard, and all
over the house.

Simon had sent to each of the three neighboring houses a bouquet of
flowers, a bottle of wine, and a basket of cheese, apologizing for the
noise that he anticipated the party would make, appeasing the neighbors.

"So fucking thoughtful of you, babe," Peter had exclaimed, planting a wet
kiss on Simon's lips.

"Thoughtful is my middle name," Simon had laughed, licking his lower lip.

"You're still a slut," Peter had joked, slapping Simon's butt.

Around ten-thirty, the music stopped. People hushed down in
anticipation. Out of the speakers boomed: tum-ta ta-ra-taa. "Baby take off
your coat, reeeeaaaal slow." Joe Cocker rumbled his "You can you're your
hat on." Three hot young men in tight clothes entered the living room,
making people form a circle around them. The men were model-handsome, both
in face and in body.

Slowly, to the music, they started to strip. Peter pulled Simon to the
front row. "Happy birthday, baby," he whispered in Simon's ear and kissed
his neck, holding him from behind.

Simon was speechless, his mouth hung open, his eyes glued onto the hot
bodies getting naked right there in front of him. Peter pressed on him,
encircled his arms around Simon's waist, licked the back of his ear and
neck. Simon melted in his lover's arms.

The crowd was clapping and singing along, some reaching over and patting
Simon on the shoulder.

"You give me reason to live, you give me reason to live," Cocker went on in
his ultra-sexy, masculine, grating voice. There were tears in Simon's eyes
and an erection in his jockeys.

When the strippers got down to bare torsos and started to unbutton the
fronts of their jeans to the screams of girls and whistles of guys, one of
them found Peter and winked. Peter nodded. The stripper approached Simon
and pulled him over to their middle. The three boys then started to strip
Simon, their hands all over him, their bodies rubbing on him. Simon almost
swooned.

The strippers went all out on Simon. He felt the caressing hands, the wet
lips, the pressing bulges. His whole body was electrified. He felt he was
going to shoot his load right there, in his undies. They pulled off his
Indian top. Sandwiching Simon, the three hot guys, now in jockey briefs,
grinded on him, fondled his nipples, licked at his neck, pressed on him,
gyrating to the music.

"You can leave your hat on," the crowd chanted along with Cocker.

Slowly, the taller stripper pushed Simon down. Weakly, Simon slid onto his
knees, the stripper's crotch in his face. He reached out and grabbed the
crotch, feeling the meat inside.

"Go, baby, go," he faintly heard Peter's voice among the clapping and
whooping.

The stripper thrust his hips forward and Simon met him halfway, burying his
face in the handsome crotch. To everyone's surprise-except Peter-the
stripper pulled down his jockeys. The guy was hung. At least five inches of
soft cock snaked down. Simon gulped him into his mouth in an instant,
closing his eyes, savoring the satiny skin. The two other strippers were
kissing, pulling down each other's jockeys, grinding on each other. Simon's
mouth was full. He gulped and sucked and the cock hardened in his mouth,
pushing deep into his throat. Simon was a good cocksucker. He swallowed
what seemed like 10 inches of meat.

The two other strippers, now totally naked and erected, also hung, pulled
Simon off the tall guy's dick.

Simon looked around, noticing the looks of those in the front row,
wide-eyed, both male and female, surprised at Simon's ability to swallow
the whole ten inches of man meat. Some couples in the back had started to
make out. Peter had a wide grin on his face, as if to say, "Hey, people,
this is my guy, my guy."

Simon was engulfed between the three naked males. He was lost among hard
cocks, fondling hands, licking tongues, and kissing lips. One of the
strippers squatted behind him and pulled down the white cotton pants to the
cheers and whistles and cat-calls of the crowd. The other stripper slid his
hand down Simon's front and grabbed his dick while the first one was biting
and licking his ass. Simon bent and took the tall stripper's ten inches
again in his mouth and went at it, swallowing, slurping, licking, as
sensations from his groin and his butt cheeks wracked his body with lust.

Suddenly, without warning, Simon stood up and moved away from the
strippers. There were aww's and ohh's from all around. But instead of
leaving, he reached to Peter and pulled him back into the center. The crowd
cheered.

Peter had had a couple of beers, and the scene with Simon and the three hot
men made him horny as ever. Simon started to strip him and he couldn't
resist. A few of the girls moaned with appreciation as Simon pulled Peter's
shirt off, baring his sexy man chest. Simon worked the jeans, pulled them
down, followed by the boxers. Peter's cock stood at attention and Simon
grabbed for it, kissing, licking, sucking. Peter looked so handsome, so
male, so straight, in contrast to Simon's camp.

The strippers joined the couple, and the mass of five naked male bodies, of
cocks and mouths and hands moved as if one body. The cheers of the crowd
were reaching frenzy level, when Peter pushed Simon on fours and entered
him, doggy. The taller stripper fed his ten-incher to Simon's gaping mouth,
who took him with gusto. The other two went down under the fucking couple,
sucking on Peter's swinging balls as he thrust in and out of Simon's ass
and Simon's dripping dick, hard and throbbing.

The climax was out of this world. Already, there were other couples fucking
and sucking, on the couches, on the carpet, on the dining table, out in the
pool and the Jacuzzi, on the grass in the yard. It was the orgy of orgies.

Peter emptied gallons of semen inside Simon. When he pulled out, one of the
strippers took his place behind Simon's exposed butt. Unlike Peter, he had
slipped a condom onto his thick dick, and using Peter's semen as lube, he
entered Simon.

Simon took the fucking and sucking in a euphoria of sex. He could tell that
someone other than Peter was fucking him. The tall stripper feeding him was
close to cumming. Simon could feel the guy's nuts shrink into his scrotum
ready to explode. Taking him deep into his throat, pulling on his balls,
Simon felt the guy squirting straight into his stomach. As the last squirt
hit the back of his mouth, another hard cock replaced the spent one. The
third stripper moved in front of him and fed him. Simon nursed as his ass
burned with rock hard cock-fucking.

As soon as the guy behind him froze and exploded, he stroked himself. He
hadn't dared touch himself before for fear of cumming too soon. But now, he
couldn't take it any longer. He squirted on the floor under him as the guy
who was feeding him shot his load into his mouth. He savored every second
knowing that this would never be repeated.

As Simon lay on the floor, totally spent, his dick dripping juice, his
mouth full of man cum, his ass seeping Peter's semen, Peter entered the
room carrying a 4-layered cake with 22 lit candles on top.

"Simon, baby, happy birthday."

All joined in "For he's a jolly good fellow" as Simon beamed, naked. The
three strippers stood around him, also naked. They were beautiful, all
flushed and sweaty after their fucking.

"Simon," Peter clapped for attention. "Party isn't over yet."

Simon raised his eyebrows, flutters in his stomach. How could the fuck
session he had just had be topped?

"Baby," Peter continued as the room hushed, "for every candle you blow, you
have to blow a guy. You have to make him cum in your mouth before you can
blow another candle."

Twenty-two. Oh, Simon wished he was 92. He clapped his hands, very camp
now, and chose a hunk of a guy, still clothed, a girl's arm wrapped around
his waist.

He blew out the first candle, and then pulled the guy over to middle. He
fished out the guy's cock, soft, and sucked him to erection among the
cheers and whoops. Simon could hear the guy's girlfriend cheering him on as
well.

As the guy erected in Simon's mouth, he looked down at Simon and said: "You
know, Simon, Gwenda never agreed to blow me. This is a first."

Simon sucked and gobbled. The guy ejaculated, hard. Every one cheered.
Other guys were lining up, both straight and gay. To Simon, there was no
difference: a cock was a cock, there to nurse on.

Simon blew the second candle, sucked the second cock to orgasm. Third, and
fourth, to twenty-two. If Simon were to throw up, the liquid coming out of
his stomach would have been sperm-laden, creamy and white.

"All this sperm," someone said, tucking his spent dick into his
pants. "Wow!"

Simon's twenty-second birthday was the talk of the town for weeks.