Date: Sun, 30 Oct 2016 15:18:25 -0700
From: Jack <strokebudaz@gmail.com>
Subject: Mama's Getting Married Pt. 2

Disclaimer: The following story is fictional. Any resemblance to actual
person, living or dead is purely coincidental. This work is the property of
the author and legal action would be taken if it is reproduced, modified or
reworked without the author's written consent. All rights reserved.

This is a fictional erotic story where men of different ages indulge into
sexual activities with each other. Some characters are related to each
other performing incest. If any such thing offends you, then you mustn't
proceed anymore further and perhaps click the back button. And for those
who are not supposed to read this because of their country's law or
cultural norms, age or other important things, well god help you if you get
caught.

This story may have grammatical errors, so please ignore that and don't let
it ruin your experience.

Let me know what you think about my stories at strokebudaz@gmail.com

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Mama's Getting Married

Pt. 2

I looked back and forth between my mother and Doyle, who kept that smile on
his face, but I noticed just a hint of doubt in his eyes. Was he worried I
was going to expose him to my mother, right here, right now?

`It's wonderful to meet you too, Doyle.' I replied, attempting to mimic his
upbeat tone.

`I have to admit, I don't know as much about you, but just seeing the joy
on my Mama's face tells me a lot. I'm glad you make her so happy.'

Doyle let go of my hand and stepped back, looking up at my mother, who was
about 3 inches taller than he was. They embraced, and looked at each
other. `She makes me happy, too, son. I never thought I could feel this way
again.' They embraced again, his head turned toward me, and I saw a subtle,
but unmistakable wink. My confusion and astonishment was replaced by the
first flickers of anger.

When they separated again, I reached over and placed my hand firmly on
Doyle's shoulder. I felt the slightest jump at my grasp, and I pulled him
to me, slinging my arm across his shoulder.

`Mama, if you don't mind, I think I want to get to know
Mr. Heywood...Doyle, a little better. I think we're gonna take a little
stroll around the yard. Do some talking...man to man.' I kept Doyle's gaze,
trying to see if there was any concern for his safety. If there was, he
wasn't showing it. I looked over at my mother, looking for her answer.

`Oh, of course. You boys get to know each other. I'm gonna head back to the
kitchen and see what needs doing.' She leaned over and gave both Doyle and
me a peck on the cheek and turned, heading for the kitchen door.

I took my arm off Doyle's shoulder, stepping around a small group of folks
deep in conversation about something I couldn't pick up. Doyle followed me,
and soon we were side by side, walking casually, most of the partygoers
behind us, the sounds of laughter, music and celebration fading.

`So, Doyle. I guess I just want to know one thing...' I began, looking out
over the green meadows and deep forests that spread out in the valley
before us. The first stars of the night were appearing, and the sky was
turning a beautiful dark blue. I didn't look at Doyle at all.

I continued, keeping my voice at a calm level, `I'd like to know why I
shouldn't beat the fuck out of you right now.' I turned to him, my eyes
blazing.  `Do you really love my mother? Does she know you go out getting
your rocks off with other men?' I stood back, feeling disoriented again,
slightly dizzy.

`Calm down, boy.' Doyle answered. `What I feel for your mother is something
very special. I cherish her. I love her with all my heart. But after
Lynnette, my first wife, passed away, I discovered something about myself.'

`I was turned on by other men. But purely in a physical, animal lust kind
of way. My heart yearned for the contentment of a woman's love, but my cock
throbbed and ached for beefy, hairy, sweaty men.' He paused a moment, then
continued, `I understand from your mother that you're similarly inclined.'
He smiled again.

`Well, if you mean I'm gay, yes.' I had come out to Mama when I moved to
Los Angeles. She was very understanding, and only wanted me to be
happy. She admitted she was a little disappointed that she wouldn't have
grandkids. I looked Doyle up and down, and continued, `But you found that
out in the park this afternoon.' He nodded in agreement, saying, `Boy, did
I ever.'

He continued explaining. 'Being a single man, I was free to pursue those
desires. But being a well-respected businessman, I also knew I had to be
extremely discreet. And I learned that there were other men who enjoyed
occasional man-to-man sexual encounters. When your mother and I reached the
point in our relationship where we discussed being `intimate', your mother
repeatedly maintained that physical relations aren't that important to her,
and I have made a vow that no other woman would come between us. She has
chosen to stay blissfully uninterested in my `extracurricular' activities,
and I never let them interfere with our time together.'

Doyle placed his hand on my shoulder, and I turned to look at him. His face
was sincere, his eyes glistening with unspilled tears.

`I love your mama, and I would die before I would hurt her. You have to
believe me.'

After a moment, I nodded. `I do.' I said. But I still had a few questions.

`So, you have fuckbuddies you get together with? From around here?' I
glanced back at the dozens of family friends and acquaintances, and some
complete strangers, who were gathering around the porch, now lighted, as a
local bluegrass band got ready to perform.

Doyle turned back, quickly scanning the crowd. `I can point out about a
half dozen fellas here, right now, that have done the exact same thing you
and I did this afternoon.' I looked over the crowd, trying to picture which
of these men, some just over 21, some in their 60's or older, had enjoyed
the taste of Doyle's cum, and the feeling of release as he swallowed their
hot manseed. I absentmindedly adjusted my cock as it started to grow.

Doyle noticed my growing bulge and chuckled, He pointed to the stage where
the band was beginning their first song.

`You see the fella playin' the fiddle?' I looked to the stage. The man
Doyle was referring to looked about 50, with a thick salt & pepper beard,
and standing a little over 6 feet tall. His jeans were worn and fit him
very snug, displaying a thick tube along the inside of his left thigh that
rose and fell as his foot tapped to the music. Beneath the beard, a thatch
of thick dark hair showed from the thin tank top. He turned around, showing
a nice firm ass. I nodded, groping my dick while we stood back in the
shadows.

`Just a couple weeks ago, I had my dick slamming that sweet ass while he
was eating out a state trooper's hairy butthole. Over at one of the motels
by the interchange south of here. Got us out of a $320 traffic ticket. ' I
wondered if it could have been the motel where I was staying, and if any
other encounters like that were occurring there. I know I'd love to be able
to look out the motel room window and see the rooms across from me, their
curtains open enough to observe naked. hairy, muscled men together
stroking, sucking and fucking til they pumped thick strands of jizz in and
on each other.'

I responded with a quiet `Mmmmm...' I stopped rubbing and squeezing my
quickly hardening cock and felt Doyle's hand grasp it and begin stroking
back and forth over the fabric. I reached over with my left hand and easily
located Doyle's meat, already hard and pushing against the confines of his
slacks. We stood side by side, deep in the darkening shadows of the night,
our hips moving forward and back slightly as we stroked and teased each
other.I felt the precum from Doyle's throbbing hardon as it soaked his
khakis, leaving a great dark wet spot. My cock responded with its own
release of fluid.

I realized that we were both in a sexual haze, and risking an embarrassing
moment if anyone caught us. I stepped back releasing Doyle's throbbing
bulge, and at the same time pushing his hand off my stiff pecker. `We gotta
stop this for now. What if one of the kids comes running by?' I took a
couple more steps back, turning away and breathing in and out deeply,
trying to slow my heartbeat, feeling my cock relax little by little.

`You're right.' Doyle agreed. Let's just go back and enjoy the party.' We
checked each other's baskets, and our own, chuckling as we figured the wet
spots weren't too visible in the shadowy evening.

We both started back toward the crowd, clapping and dancing and singing
along with the band. They finished singing to a hearty round of applause
and cheers. I saw Mama weaving her way toward us, her cheeks flushed, her
smile broad and genuine. She opened her arms as we approached and Doyle and
I were engulfed in her firm embrace, the scent of her perfume, `Jasmine
Breeze' deep in our nostrils. She released us, and then looked at me with
mock seriousness.

`So, Mr. Burditt, does Doyle meet with your approval? Or will I have to
call it off and live my remaining years hidden away in shameful solitude?'
Her smile was infectious, as we three looked from one to the other.

`Yes, Mama. He's quite a catch. I'm glad he's going to be a part of this
family after the wedding Saturday.'

Mama looked toward Doyle, her face frowning, but her eyes still smiling, so
I knew she wasn't actually upset.

`That is if you boys don't raise too much heck on Friday night.' She smiled
at Doyle, who blushed a bit. I looked at both of them, confused.

Doyle placed his hand on my shoulder and said, with a lascivious smirk and
a knowing wink, `Why, my bachelor party on Friday night. I'm getting
together with some of my closest buddies for one last hurrah.' He looked at
Mama with a cartoonish scowl, `Before the soon-to-be Mrs. Heywood starts
leading me around by the nose.' Mama playfully smacked Doyle on the chest
and stepped back, releasing the two men from her maternal embrace.

`Oh, you...' she admonished Doyle. As she moved toward the house, slowly
being engulfed by the crowd of well-wishers, she added. `You boys and your
parties. I'm sure it will be just beastly. Cigar smoke and cursing
and...breaking wind. I'll happily enjoy my spa day with the girls.' She
turned and was swallowed by the crowd, her fingers waggling joyfully, until
they too disappeared. Doyle turned to me, his face a mixture of lust and
youthful anticipation, both his hands gripping my shoulders. He stepped a
little closer, and I could feel the heat of his crotch radiating against
mine. Someone brushed by him, and his hips pushed forward, letting his
hefty thickening cock press against my thigh.

`You have to come.' He said, his voice a husky whisper. His hardon pressed
against my inner thigh and he begans pressing back and forth. I leaned
closer to him, feeling his mustache brushing against my ear. Doyle
concluded by saying 4 words.

`I will be epic.' And without warning, I felt his hand press against my
rising cock., gripping it.



(Four)

The Bachelor Party

It was easy to imagine what kind of `boys night out' bachelor party Doyle
Heywood, locally well-known businessman, and underground perverted sexual
party promoter, could devise. His public story was that it was just going
to be a night of scotch and cigars and sharing bullshit stories with a few
friends. But I had a feeling Doyle had something else in mind.

The location was Carson Lake Lodge, a small secluded resort about 25 miles
from town. It had a rustic look to it, but definitely not shoddy or worn. I
parked my car, noticing about a dozen others in the otherwise empty lot,
and went inside. The main lobby was empty, and a sign with a bright yellow
arrow read simply `Heywood Party'.

I entered the open doors of the only ballroom. A fair number of men had
already arrived, and were in good spirits. A large banner over the far wall
read, `Congratulations, Doyle!!!' and seemed to be the only major
decoration in the room. I counted 6 large round tables set for six guests
each. A closer glance revealed place cards with each guest's name. Classic
rock was playing at a moderate level from a few compact speakers on raised
stands against the walls of the room. I looked around, seeing many men I
recognized from the previous night's festivities. But, I was at a loss to
fix a name to most of them. I made my way toward the bar area, which was a
few feet from a hallway that led to a set of restrooms.

But as I moved through the ballroom, I noticed that there were several
large couches and sectionals throughout the space. I had to navigate around
a few to make my way to the bar. There were also large padded square
hassocks, and even a few bean bag chairs and large sofa pillows were piled
against the wall.

I addressed the bartender, ordering a scotch and soda. There were two other
men leaning against the padded railing, casually scanning the crowd, making
quiet comments to each other occasionally. They both looked to be in their
early 50's. On man sported a thick light brown mustache, which was showing
a fair amount of silver. It matched the silver and brown hair on his head,
cut in a precise military flat top. His clothes weren't too tight, but I
could see he was fit. The open collar on his cotton shirt revealed a nice
covering of trimmed chest hair. The other man looked to be somewhat older,
and a little rounder through his midsection. He was clean shaven, and his
hair, which was completely silver, was long enough to be pulled back into a
ponytail which extended about six inches down his back. His clothing was a
little more snug. His tshirt displaying two protruding nipples on top of a
pair of broad firm pecs. His large biceps stretched the sleeves. His faded
501's contained an impressive basket, with a thick tube pressed along his
right thigh.

They both straightened up as I stepped forward, extending my hand and
introducing myself. The man with the military look was Col. Mark Winslow
(Ret.). He worked as a security consultant for the West Virginia State
Bank. The other gentleman was Oliver McKay, a theater professor at the UWV
campus in Parkersburg.

They both congratulated me on my mother's upcoming wedding, and we shared a
toast for many years of happiness for her and Doyle.

Then Mark added, with a smile spreading across his face, `But tonight is
all about Doyle sowing his wild oats one last time. At least symbolically.'
He chuckled, giving Oliver a bit of a nudge.

`Damm right.' Oliver agreed. He reached down and took hold of the bulging
tube of flesh in his jeans, rubbing its length, feeling it respond. I
couldn't help but stare, but I noticed Mark watching intently also. `Ain't
no way you can keep a horndog like Doyle Heywood penned up for long. And
when he gets the need to feed, you can be damm sure I'll be ready and
waiting.' Oliver continued groping and rubbing the length of his massive
cock, the three of us pressed close together, all three men with our heads
lowered, enjoying Oliver's obscene exhibition. Mark and I had begun groping
our bulging baskets also, quietly grunting sighing and grunting.

Mark broke our trance, saying, `We gotta cool it, guys. Save this hot
fucking shit for later.' We stepped back from our little huddle, letting
our heads clear. I felt a little nervous, and tried turning toward the bar
to try and block my still obvious hardon.

Mark leaned in close and whispered in my ear, `Don't worry about who's
gonna see your boner, Ben.' He turned around and leaned back against the
bar, his legs crossed and his broad cockhead pressing outward against his
cotton cargo shorts. A large round dark spot showed the leaking precum from
Mark's cock. `That's really the point of tonight. All of us guys getting
together to celebrate, and express our gratitude and excitement in the best
way we know how. With a big hot fucking orgy.` I turned around, imitating
Mark's pose. A few of the guests nearby checked out our bulges and nodded
favorably, a couple even giving their own baskets a quick grope in return.

Dinner began just after 7pm. Doyle entered and moved to the middle of the
room, instantly getting everyone's complete attention. His sentiment was
sincere and simple.

`I want to thank you all for coming tonight. I know this is going to be a
party none of us are going to forget for a long time. I've had so many of
my friends share their joy and good wishes with me. I appreciate that. But
here, in this room, with all of you, I feel something so much
deeper. Something more complete. It's our unique bond with each other, my
buddies, my brothers. It makes me feel alive.'

Doyle grabbed his crotch, chuckling and lewdly pawed it and squeezed it,
his hips humping forward and back. A collective animal grunt passed through
the group, all our lust surfacing for a moment.

`It also makes me really fucking horny!' A rousing cheer filled the
ballroom, followed by applause. I looked around to see most of the men
giving their own swelling baskets at least a mild tug.

`But that's for later on. Right now, Dinner is served! Enjoy!' And with
that, Doyle stepped aside, ushering in a parade of chefs and servers
presenting an amazing feast of BBQ ribs, brisket, and chicken. There was
cole slaw and cornbread and cherry cobbler with vanilla ice cream for
dessert. When the buffet line was set, Doyle called out, `Come and get it,
boys!' Another round of applause and hoots and hollers as we all got up and
headed for the food.

 We all stuffed ourselves, laughing, sharing stories, and becoming close. I
was instantly accepted as a family member, and one of only a half dozen or
so in the room who were openly gay. The majority of the men were either
married, divorced, or happily single. Most of the men still enjoyed sex
with women, at least enough to keep any nosy neighbors or self-appointed
morality monitors from raising too many questions.

I shared a table with 5 pretty unique and diverse men. There was
Col. Winslow, and Antoni Gianetti, the owner and chef of an upscale Italian
restaurant. He was a thick man, obviously from a life of rich food. He had
a head of curly black hair, crystal blue eyes, and a thick Italian
accent. Wearing a tank top, he showed off a thick pelt of dark curly hair
covering nearly every exposed part of his body, as well as two prominent
delectable nipples. He had a bit of a belly, and thick forearms covered in
the same dense fur.

Next to him was Frank Fisher, a manager for one of Doyle's dealerships. He
was a tall, slender black man in his late 50's. He sported a trimmed gray
beard, and an infectious laugh. He was somewhat soft spoken, but not shy,
and had a broad knowledge of classic cars.

Next to Frank was a man who looked to be around my age, with a trimmed
reddish-brown goatee, matching the remaining hair on his head. Looking at
him started to stir some memories, as if I'd known him, but I couldn't
place where.



He saw my inner conflict, and smiled, extending his hand to me. `I'm
Cal. Cal Carpenter. But I knew you wouldn't remember me. We went to high
school together.'

It took a moment, but the memories clicked into place. A nervous, awkward
kid with long red hair and thick eyeglasses. I saw him sitting at a grand
piano, staring intently at his hands as they expertly danced across the
keys, glancing at sheet music in front of him.

The final piece of the puzzle dropped into place. `You were the accompanist
for the high school choir. I remember you'd sometimes roll a piano into the
cafeteria and play for all of us during lunch.' Cal nodded in agreement,
smiling at the pleasant memories of our youth.

He gave me a quick synopsis of his life up to that point. He had left
Parkersburg as soon as he was able, like me. He headed to New York where he
went from playing in a piano bar to working as a studio musician for a
fairly reputable record label. He played keyboards and provided backup
vocals for a couple albums by k.d. lang and Gwen Stefani's original group,
No Doubt. Everything was going well, until his father had a stroke and
ultimately died in 1994. When he came back, he could tell his mother had
been very traumatized by her husband's death. Cal didn't think twice about
leaving his life in New York and returning to Parkersburg to care for his
mother.

He became the music teacher at our old high school, as well as the music
director and organist at the Riverside Baptist Church.

At that point, the Colonel straightened up and asked, looking around the
room, `By the way, where is Reverend Dolan? I'm sure he would have been on
the guest list.'

Cal tore off a thick, juicy chunk of BBQ chicken and followed that with a
heaping forkful of cole slaw. After chewing and swallowing, he answered,
`My guess would be he's at home with his wife and kids, trying desperately
not to think about what's going on here tonight.'

He turned toward me and continued, since it was obvious from the others'
expressions that they knew about what Cal was about to share.

`Reverend Thomas Dolan is a bit of a throwback to times past. For a while,
when he first came here, he'd freely admit being a member of the KKK, and
that his Daddy was a Grand Wizard. He preached about how the Bible proved
that black folks are less than the rest of us. He has since recanted most
of what he said, and severed his ties with the KKK.'

`But being an ignorant racist was only a small secret compared to his REAL
dirty secret. He loves cock. Needs it, like an addict needs heroin.'

`Whenever Reverend Dolan is craving some cock, he goes out desperately
searching out some naked anonymous contact. He calls it `being overwhelmed
by the carnal beast.'

Cal looked over the group, and after a moment's pause, said, `Yeah, I'll
admit, I've fed that beast a few times. The dude shows up one Saturday when
I'm practicing up in the organ loft, starts talking about the `big pipes'
on the organ. Grabbing his crotch, seeing his hardon. I told him to check
out this pipe.' Cal grabbed his crotch, showing a healthy mound of
cockflesh. He continued explaining.

`But afterwards, he's so tormented by his beliefs and self-hatred, and his
church's dogma that he spends days in an insane tornado of mental and
emotional self-abuse.'

`...Until...?' I asked.

Frank Fisher leaned forward and explained, `He's back from a `sabbatical'
and full of fire and brimstone and hatred and twisted logic to explain why
the `homosexual agenda' is killing America's soul. Personally I think he
secretly enjoys those times after, when he's drowning in his own guilt,
crying out for forgiveness from a god who he thinks hates him. I think he
enjoys it almost as much as he loves worshipping my big nine inch uncut
niggerdick.'

`Choking on it while I hold his lily white face against my crotch, seeing
him stroking his greasy stubby cock. I like making him beg to get fucked,
and when I do, I make sure it hurts.'

Frank and the Colonel chuckled lewdly, the rest of us just nervously picked
at the remnants of barbeque on our plates.

Doyle moved around all the tables during dinner, making sure to thank
everyone for being here, accepting congratulations on the wedding.

The desserts were stupendous, and afterwards, we were relaxing around the
table with brandy and Cuban cigars, a shimmering haze hovering just above
the heads of most of the men.

`So,' I said looking around at the new friends I had found, `since I'm the
`new' kid around here, I want to ask a little favor. A way to get to know
you all a little better.'

I leaned forward again, and said, `I want to hear how each of you first got
`involved' with Doyle Heywood. I'll start...'

I told them my tale, and one by one, they all shared their first encounter
with Daddy Doyle. (All those accounts will be in an entirely different
story collection. Watch for it.)

As we were finishing up our brandy, I noticed the hotel banquet staff
clearing out the buffet setup and rolling in big screen TV's on 5'
stands. There were 4 screens placed in various areas of the room. Some of
the men began to converge around each set. The room's lighting subtly
dimmed. The hotel's housekeeping staff brought in large stacks of clean
towels, as well as baskets holding bottles of different lubes, condoms and
poppers, placing them near the extra couches, chairs and hassocks. And as
each TV flickered to life, they displayed different porno movies. This
elicited another round of whoops and hollers from the guests. I strolled
around the room, checking each video to see what different offerings were
getting all the men revved up. All the screens showed pretty hot gay
porn. One was a young man, maybe 22, being fucked, front and back, by two
hairy, bearded, tattooed bikers who were kissing each other deeply, running
their hands over each other's furry bodies. There was one video titled `JO
Party 2010'. It looked to be a large warehouse with dozens of random men
some clothed, most naked, having a great marathon masturbation
session. There was a video of a group of men, all in suits & ties, seated
around a large table, looking bored, while another man, apparently their
boss, berates them for some minor mistake. They decide they've had enough
and, as a group, overpower the boss and strip him and take turns filling
his ass and mouth with their hard cocks. The last video was of a more
amateur quality, but still looked interesting. The title was `Birthday Bang
2014'. There were shots of numerous men singing `Happy Birthday', and as
the song ended, the camera turned to reveal Doyle Heywood, standing naked
in front of a large birthday cake blowing out the candles. Around him were
a large group of men, some he immediately recognized as being here
tonight. They were also naked and all stroking their hard throbbing
cocks. Doyle dug two fingers into the cake, and turned, smearing the cake
and frosting on one of the hard cocks and then immediately stuffing the
whole sweet hard rod into his mouth. Someone else grabbed a small chunk of
cake and smeared it along Doyle's hairy, exposed butt crack and then
immediately knelt down and buried his face in the gooey sweaty hole,
swabbing his tongue back and forth. I could see it was Colonel Winslow, and
he was obviously enjoying himself.

The videos were having the desired effect and soon all the guests were
either naked or getting naked. Cocks were being stroked and sucked, men
passionately kissing, their bodies writhing, pressing close together, hands
roaming, exploring. I was getting happily aroused watching the activity
around me, sensing the entire room filling with hot electric sexual energy,
taking in that energy myself and feeling a basic animal connection to every
man here. Groping my hard, insistent cock, I saw Doyle standing about ten
feet from me in the middle of a group of 4 men, all helping him strip off
his clothes. He saw me and called out, `Hey Benji! Don't just stand there,
get naked and get that hot cock into a nice warm hole! And save a load for
me!' He laughed, returning his attention to the men worshipping him, as he
was soon swallowed into the group.

Someone approached from behind me, and felt a pair of strong arms wrap
around me pressing me back against a hard cock rubbing insistently against
my ass. I felt a moustache brush my ear, kissing my neck, a low deep rumble
of lust vibrating from his chest. I leaned back, allowing the unknown
partner to pull my shirt up and paw, grope and tug at my furry belly and
chest, flicking my hard nipples and making me gasp excitedly. I turned
around to discover the Colonel, naked and hard, his muscular hairy body
pressed against mine. His face just inches away. His eyes shimmering with
lust. He kissed me, quickly sliding his tongue into my mouth. He stepped
back briefly while I quickly stripped off my clothes, storing them in one
of the baskets.

He pulled me over to one of the large flat cushioned seats. Grabbing a
nearby bottle of poppers, he gave me a couple of deep hits, then took a
couple himself. The buzzing in my head grew, my body became energized and
my entire world became this man, our bodies and our all-consuming need for
each other.

I closed my eyes and let the sensations carry me up and over and through
the entire encounter. I vaguely recalled other hands, other bodies, other
mouths, cocks and asses joining us. I saw some faces, some familiar, most
unknown. Cocks of different shapes, sizes and colors were either in my
hands or in my mouth, and a few even slid into my ass. I remember watching
as the Colonel and Frank Fisher were kissing and stroking each other while
my cock slid back and forth between their mouths. The Colonel laid on his
back, offering his taut muscular ass, spreading his hairy cheeks, making
his tight brown pucker open and close greedily. His hard thick seven inch
cock bounced, and a thick drop of clear precum oozed from the tip onto his
belly, a shimmering strand remaining connected. I swiped it up with my
finger, quickly sliding it into my mouth. I leaned over, placing his legs
on my shoulders, and fastened my lips against his, our tongues moving back
and forth, sharing the sweet taste of his cock juice. My own cock was
producing large amounts of precum, too, while I slid it back and forth
against his eager fuckhole.

I was reaching over for a condom, but the Colonel stopped my hand, and
said, breathlessly, `No. I want your raw meat sliding in my hole. I want
you to pump your hot seed deep into my guts.' He grabbed my hard dick,
pressing the swollen head against his flexing hole.

And then, in his most commanding military voice he growled, `Fuck me, NOW,
soldier!' I automatically replied, `Yes SIR!' and pushed my hips forward,
sinking my entire cock into his hot gripping ass til my balls slammed
against him.

`Yeaaah FUCK!' he cried out, and my primitive, lust-filled brain took over
and I began slamming his ass steadily back and forth, pulling all the way
out til just my cockhead was inside and then sliding back in, grinding my
crotch against his bucking, bouncing ass, responding with only animal like
grunts and groans.

Around us, the men who had been intertwined with us moved off to either
watch us fuck like mad, jacking their greasy shiny cocks In appreciation,
or they found a new cock or ass to get to know.

Col. Mark Winslow and I kept up our sweaty fucking, and I was rather
impressed at how resilient his hole was. At one point, he was exclaiming,
`Oh, fuck me! Fuck me! I love your cock pounding my hole!'

I answered, with a bit of a smirk, `You fucking whore, you'd love ANY cock
pounding your hole.'

Between beats when my hips slammed against his insatiable ass, he
considered this, then nodded, replying, `You're right. But yours is the one
that's in there right now.' We both chuckled, feeling a shift in both our
bodies. I felt my balls begin to rise up toward the shaft, still plunging
in and out of Mark's flexing assring. With a rather surprised `Oh', Mark
looked at me still stroking his cock, slower, stopping at the top and just
squeezing before stroking the shaft again. His mouth was clamped tight,
only muffled grunts escaping as I continued my careful, but still complete
deep thrusts of my pulsing meat. I pulled my dick back out, leaving only
the head inside. Mark's sensitive fuckhole spasmed and squeezed in time
with his stroking.

We stared at each other, amazed at the shared sensation, anxious and
excited to share a mind-blowing orgasm. I felt like we were climbing that
first giant hill on an insane roller coaster, teetering on the edge,
wanting to go over, but also enjoying that shivering sense of anticipation.

`You ready?' I asked, smiling at Mark. In my peripheral vision, I saw Doyle
approach, naked, stroking his hardon.

`Mind if I watch?' He placed his hand softly on my lower back, feeling my
muscles quivering, sweat running down into my hairy asscrack. Other men
began to gather, keeping a respectful distance, their desire, lust, and
arousal evident. Hard pulsing cocks brought to the edge of orgasm, waiting
to plunge over the edge with the Colonel and me.

I addressed Doyle, but kept my eyes locked on Mark's, his look almost
pleading, begging for release.

`It's your party, Doyle. But this is my ride.' And I began sliding my cock
in and out, Mark's fist moved up and down his hard cock. Both of us gasping
and grunting as my hairy, sweaty crotch pushed against his quivering
ass. Mark cried out, `Yes! Yes! FUUUUUCCCKKK!' and I raised up, holding my
cock deep in his ass, feeling it squeezing my swollen dick, his prostate
pulsing and his cock releasing three, four, five thick volleys of hot cum
across his chest and stomach.

I couldn't hold back, and forced acouple more thick rivers of cum to pulse
out of Mark's cock, running over his fingers, dripping onto his balls. I
pumped my hips four times, grunting incomprehensibly, releasing load after
load of sweet manseed deep into his guts.

My balls ached, my entire cock felt too tender to touch as I pulled out of
Marks glistening tender ass. I rolled over on my back, next to Mark, both
of us panting and exhausted, and thoroughly drained. A considerate party
guest handed both of us small cold bottles of water.

There was applause from some of the spectators.



(Five)

Surprise Party Guest

The celebration continued while Mark and I laid together on the large
square seat. He had rolled over and his leg and arm were draped over my
body, his head resting on my shoulder. It felt good holding him, and he
sighed contentedly, our breathing and heartbeat slowing, the sweat on our
bodies drying and cooling us. But because this was a sex party, there were
still men around us and next to us, engaging in their own sexual coupling,
and we could only lay there for five minutes before the writhing bodies,
moaning, grunting participants and occasional random hand, foot or dick
bumped and jostled us into getting up and moving.

Mark and I both sensed that we were parting, and he thanked me. We kissed
one more time, and he pulled back, separating us.

`That was awesome.' I said, the Colonel nodding in agreement. He started
toward the bar, saying over his shoulder, `I'll check with you later,
buddy!'

There was a plastic tub filled with ice and bottles of water, juice and
cans of soda. I grabbed a soda and took a deep swallow, looking around the
room, enjoying the sight of such sexual satisfaction. I saw Doyle in the
middle of one of the couches, flanked by two other men, all three slowly
stroking their hard dicks, watching each other, and all the activity around
them. Doyle saw me and motioned me over to join him. As I approached, he
said,

"Hey, Ben, how's about you show your new Daddy a little love, huh?" He
shook his hard, glistening meat back and forth, smacking it against his
palm.

I approached, jacking my own cock to full hardness. I dropped to my knees
in front of him and wrapped my hand around his hardon. He sighed, leaning
back, placing his arms across the shoulders of his two buddies, who watched
with lustful interest. I briefly glanced at them both, not immediately
recognizing either. Both looked to be in their 60's, with silver hair. The
man on the right jacked his thick uncut dick, maybe just over 6". He had a
fair amount of silver chest hair. The other observer had a silver goatee,
and massaged his long slender cock.

`I don't think you've met these two friends, yet, have you?' Doyle asked. I
just shook my head, as I continued, stroking my own cock with one hand, and
Doyle's with the other.

He indicated the man with the goatee, and said, `This is Larry McBride,
he's the owner of the Herald Theater where we'll hold the wedding
tomorrow.' Larry and I exchanged a nod and a quick `Howdy'. Doyle turned to
the other man, moving his arm from behind him to run his fingers back and
forth through the thick patch of silver fur on the man's chest, quickly
reaching for one of his nipples, and giving it a quick, playful tug, which
made the man hiss, arch his back, and squeeze his cock, releasing a nice
clear drop of precum, which ran down the length of his meat.

`And this is the Honorable Judge Marvin Kramer. He'll be officiating the
ceremony tomorrow.' Again we nodded our greetings. Doyle's hand moved to
the back of my head as he said,

`C'mon, boy, I think I need some more of that good cocksucking you learned
in the big city.' My mouth opened as he pushed my head down, sliding his
meat in until it met the resistance at the back of my throat. I pushed his
hand off my head, pulled off his dick, and looked him square in the eye,
saying,

`Just lay back and enjoy this, Daddy. Let me take care of you.' Doyle
smiled and returned his arm behind the judge.

I took a deep breath and slipped my mouth back over Doyle's cock. I felt
his head press against my throat and relaxed, breathing out through my nose
as I felt his cock bend slightly and slip down those last inches until my
nose and lips were rubbing against his pubic hair. He bucked his hips
upward, feeling my throat trigger a gag reflex, gripping his shaft. I
continued to swallow, my throat muscles squeezing his throbbing dick. He
moaned and swore as I slid back up, releasing his cock, and then, after
another deep breath, taking his cock down to the hilt and holding it there.

Doyle's hands moved to my shoulders and back, rubbing and squeezing the
muscles as they flexed. I just closed my eyes and began a steady rhythm of
sliding my mouth up and down his cock. He whispered my name, telling me
what a good boy I was, and how happy I was making Daddy.

`I think I need to give you a little present for being such a good
boy. Would you like that?' I just nodded and continued to worship Doyle's
hardon.

I felt a pair of strong hands grab my ass, kneading both cheeks, spreading
them apart, pressing a thumb against my hole, as it opened and closed. I
head a low growl of appreciation as the hands moved across my back.

I felt warm breath against my hairy asscrack, and the same deep growling
voice commenting, `Fuck yeah' as I flexed my hole, greedily begging for
attention. Again, the hands spread my ass wide, and a warm, wet, wide,
rough tongue slurped from the bottom of my balls, across my spasming hole
to the top of my crack.  I automatically pushed back, bearing down to
expose the sensitive flesh inside my hole. The strange tongue dove in,
pushing, drilling deep. Slurping and slobbering, his bearded face scraping
back and forth across my ass, pulling back and biting each asscheek, then
lobbing a thick wad of spit into my gaping ass. He smacked my ass, making
me clench tight, and then drove his tongue back into me. I humped and
pushed my hairy sweaty ass against him, groaning and grunting my need, my
lust and my appreciation. I kept up the steady oral worship of Doyle's
throbbing, thick cock as it continued to reward me with his sweet,
intoxicating precum. My hands roamed across his broad, beefy, hairy chest
and gripped and pulled on his nipples.

`You ready for some good cock, boy? Ready to get that hot ass plowed some
more?' Doyle asked playfully. All I could do was look up at him, my eyes
glazing over with animal lust, nodding, whining like a pup without his
favorite toy.

The tongue left my gaping, flexing fuck tunnel, and a moment later I felt a
large, slick cockhead rubbing up and down against my crack. It stopped at
my hole, pushing forward, spreading my ass to gain access. It was thick,
but I was so hungry for more cock that I knew it would only bring me more
pleasure. I released Doyle's engorged dick, and begged, my voice thick with
desire.

`Fuck me, please! Pound my hole!'

I felt a moment of intense pleasure as the stranger's cock pushed through
my opening, sliding all the way in until his hairy bush pressed against my
wet tender ass. He responded with a single `UUNNGGHH'before pulling back
out about halfway and slamming my ass again.

I encouraged him, hissing `Yesssss, yessss!' as he began fucking me at a
steady hard pace. I returned my attention to Doyle's cock, lapping up the
precum that ran down the shaft, sucking and slobbering on his balls that
were shiny with the same sweet juice.

The continuous pounding my ass was receiving sent shockwaves of pleasure
shooting through my body. My rock hard dick leaking thick strands of
precum, my balls rising up, preparing to release their load. Doyle's hips
bucked up and back in the same rhythm, and I could feel his balls getting
ready to discharge their seed as well.

`I think this is the greatest way for a family to be together, don't you?'
Doyle said, looking over me at my unknown anal destroyer.

`I know you're going to be a great part of this family.' The stranger
replied. For a moment, the voice seemed a little familiar, but my mind was
a little fuzzy from the drinks I'd had as well as the reaming my ass was
receiving. I began to try and look behind me to identify the man filling my
chute, when he added, `Don't you think so, little brother?'

I craned my neck around to look behind me and saw, to my shock and
surprise, my older brother Michael. He had a wide grin on his face,
surrounded by a nice thick beard. As he met my shocked gaze, his eyebrows
lifted a couple times. He continued to slam his dick in and out of my
grasping ass.

I tried to say something, but my mind was having trouble processing what I
was seeing with what I was feeling. `Michael? What the fuck...?' was all I
got out.

Michael slammed his dick into me, holding his crotch tight against my
ass. He leaned over, grabbing my shoulders and lifting and turning me onto
my back. I laid down, looking up at my older brother, naked, hairy, beefy,
covered in sweat. He held both my legs up and spread wide. I was still
trying to form words, my mind beginning to spin out of control, confusion
threatening to replace the excitement of our sexual connection. Michael
said, `This is too fucking amazing to freak out now, Benji boy. Ride this
til the end and think about it after, okay?'

I just nodded and let my body get swallowed in the full physical
atmosphere. Michael continued pummeling my hole, sending shivers from my
spine to my brain and down to every nerve in my body. Doyle knelt over my
face, his hardon bobbing and releasing precum, strands landing across my
face and beard. I opened my mouth and extended my tongue to taste it and
feel the warm hard meat sliding back and forth against my lips. Michael
leaned down, joining me. Our lips and tongues working to encourage Doyle's
orgasm. As his cock slipped away from between us, Michael and I kissed,
deep and passionate, our tongues and mouths embracing. Our shared breath
and wordless sighs and grunts of passion drove us both closer to the edge.

Doyle called out, `AWWW, fuck boys! You horny fuckers are makin' Daddy
cum!'

We pulled our mouths apart, keeping them open as Doyle sat on the edge of
the couch, quickly stroking his cock, He grunted, the first shot flying
toward Michael. It landed against his lower lip, a large drop caught in his
beard. I felt a thick warm wad splash against my tongue, and another land
on the side of my face. A few more drops oozed out of the shiny red
cockhead, running down the shaft. Michael leaned in again, taking the head
into his mouth as my tongue collected the salty thick jizz along the
underside of Doyle's twitching dick.

Michael reared up, and with an animal roar, pulled his cock out of my
tender ass, and began jacking the pole, shiny and veiny. I dropped my legs
from his shoulders and he straddled my chest, his hairy balls dripping with
his precum and the lube and precum from the night's earlier entries in my
ass.

He pushed his hardon into my mouth, and Doyle joined me, kissing me and
fondling Michael's swollen balls. Our mouths fastened onto his throbbing
cockhead as he released 4 full jets of cock cream into our mouths, shouting
`Fuck yeah!' as each spray filled our mouths. Michael leaned back after he
had finished depositing his seed, still stroking his hard cock. His free
hand found my battered fuckhole, pushing two thick fingers in all the
way. I was stroking my cock, feeling my cum build up for release. My head
flew back, I arched my back, my eyes closed. When I opened them, looking
down at my fist moving quickly up and down shaft, I saw Doyle and Michael,
side by side, slurping and sucking on my cockhead, and sharing a passionate
manly kiss.

`C'mon, Ben, I gotta taste your load!' Michael called out, his fingers
inside me finding and pressing on my sensitive, swollen prostate.

That sent me over the edge. I cried out `Fuck yeah!' as the first thick
rope of jizz shot from my cock, landing directly on Doyle's
tongue. Michael's open mouth took the next two volleys, He pushed against
my prostate one more time, then pulled his fingers out quickly, and I had
another blast of cum that landed on my chest. A few more pulses released
the remainder of my load in thick streams down my cock, over my fingers. I
released my cock, watching Doyle and Michael descend on it together,
licking, cleaning and milking the last drops of cum, and sharing it with
each other. I licked my jizz from my fingers and lovingly laid my hands on
their heads watching them lavish my cock and balls with lustful attention.

Again, as I looked around, the majority of the men were gathered
around. There was applause, mixed with the sounds of various men showing
their support by shooting their loads.

After we had caught our breath, and regained enough strength to get up,
Doyle, Michael, and I sat on the couch naked, as Michael explained how he
had become part of this sexual circus.

He had been divorced about a year when Mama invited Michael for Sunday
dinner to meet Doyle. The two men hit it off immediately, and Doyle could
sense the sexual frustration Michael was coping with. He was a 50 year old
man, with no desire to get back into the dating scene. A couple weeks
later, they happened to run into each other at a local tavern. Doyle
introduced Michael to a friend, Alan, and after a while the three men went
over to Doyle's place. They had a few more drinks, and Doyle turned on the
TV, playing some of his favorite porn. It had the desired effect. Michael
talked about how horny he was, but women were just too much trouble. Doyle
suggested that men suck dick better than women anyway, and when Michael
asked how he knew, he pointed to his friend Alan. Michael didn't believe
it, until Doyle whipped his dick out and Michael watched as Alan got
between his knees and started swallowing Doyle's hardon. Soon enough,
Michael's curiosity and lust took hold and he took out his cock and sat
next to Doyle, stroking, mesmerized by the sight of a man sucking another
man's cock. Alan took hold of Michael's cock and began giving him a BJ. It
was the most intense experience he'd had in his life. At the end of that
first night, Michael found himself in bed with Doyle and Alan. He sucked
his first cock that night (both Alan and Doyle), and fucked the tightest
hole he'd ever felt (Alan's). The next morning, he was still a little
confused, but he couldn't deny how sexually satisfied he was, and how he
felt an instant kinship with Doyle.

`Ever since, Doyle has introduced me to a number of the guys. And I've also
found a few on my own.'

`And tonight?' I asked. `Did you have this set up all along? To ambush me?'

Michael and Doyle looked at each other, a little ashamed. Then Doyle
answered, placing his hand on my naked thigh, `Well, I guess it wasn't the
most upfront way of handling it. But you gotta admit, it was a great
surprise.'

I had to agree. The three of us shared a naked hug, and another passionate
kiss.

The party wound down about a half hour later. Doyle reminding everyone that
if anyone wanted to stay the night, the front desk had a number of rooms
set aside for us. I was physically drained, and still a little drunk, and
feeling rather sticky and grimy. I asked Michael if he'd want to stay, and
he agreed. We both showered and crawled into the soft, cool king size bed
together, naked. I immediately laid up against him, his big hairy arm
pulling me closer, my face resting on his firm hairy chest. My arm laid
across him, softly stroking the fur on his chest and stomach. He kissed me
lightly on the forehead, whispering, `G'night, bro. I love you.' I just
sighed and relaxed my whole body, enjoying the feeling of comfort and
safety that only comes when you're with family.



(Epilogue)

The wedding was a beautiful event. Mama wore a sky blue silk gown (accented
with hand-sewn sequins and crystals) designed and sewn by a former finalist
from Project Runway, as a special favor for `Uncle Doyle'. She looked
stunning. Michael and I walked her down the aisle, both of us with joyful
tears glistening on our beards. The ceremony was relatively brief. Doyle
and Mama read their own vows, and when the judge pronounced them married,
the theater erupted with cheers and applause. Then the screen behind them
brightened, and wedding scenes from dozens of different movies began to
play as the newlyweds made their way up the aisle and out of the theater.

The lobby was large enough to serve as a fine reception hall, and all those
in attendance congratulated Mama and Doyle, wishing them the best, and bon
voyage on their upcoming honeymoon cruise through the Bahamas and Mexico. I
maneuvered through the crowd, shaking hands, accepting well wishes,
enjoying the general festive atmosphere. I felt a moment of odd disconnect,
seeing many of the men from the night before, some with their wives close
by their side, both looking lovingly at each other. I wondered how many of
the women knew, or suspected what their husbands' secret activity was all
about? Did it matter? Everyone seemed happy, and right now, that's what
mattered.

A man approached me, his hand extended and a broad smile evident even with
the long dark beard he wore. He was the fiddle player from the night of the
barbecue at Mama's house.

`Ben, I don't think we ever had the chance to be properly introduced. I'm
Earl Conroy.' We shook hands, and Earl pulled me closer, his voice quieter.

`I saw you last night at the bachelor party. I was hoping we'd get a chance
to fuck around some, but you looked like you had a pretty full dance
card. Are you staying in town for a while?' He looked at me hopefully.

`As a matter of fact, I am.' I replied, casually placing a hand lightly on
Earl's shoulder and leading him to a dim alcove away from the lobby, under
a wide staircase leading to the balcony. I pressed him into the corner,
grabbing and squeezing his already bulging basket, pressing my mouth
against his, forcing my tongue into his open mouth. I moved my hand around
to his firm round ass, pressing our hard crotches together, grinding and
rubbing. Exchanging breaths, both of us moaning. I pulled back, staring
with pure lust, both of us breathing hard, like we'd just run 5 blocks to
catch a bus.

`I'm at the Sharidon, you know where Highway 12 meets the interstate?' Earl
just nodded.

`Room 17. How about six o'clock tomorrow night?'  Again he nodded, smiling.
He was adjusting his clothes, trying to conceal his semi hard dick, but not
being very successful. I reached over and groped and rubbed his bulging
basket, watching it press against the light fabric of his slacks.

`Don't bother trying to hide it. I know you love showing it off. Seeing
other guys checking out that bulge. Or staring when you pull that fucker
out at a public urinal. I really want to feel that cock tearing my ass
apart.' Earl stepped back again, panting.

`Oh, yeah.' I added, as I walked away, my own hardon obvious, `Bring a few
friends. There's a bunch of guys from the party last night I didn't get to
meet.' I walked off, not waiting for his answer, feeling a little cocky.

I found my brother and told him about tomorrow night. He loved the idea.

I stayed an extra three days.

Sometimes you have to come home to get what you look for everywhere else.