Monday Supper

When Shelby first proposed that we spend Monday together, I was delighted to think that she would join me in breaking my five-day fast from sex.

Checking my calendar, though, I saw a conflict. I had already committed to co-host an all-male orgy at my place on Monday night with my pal Jimmy.

Shelby would have been more than happy to stick around for the show, but the rules on Jimmy’s parties are clear: no girls allowed.

She could just go home, but we wanted to sleep in each other’s arms. The orgy would only last two or three hours, so it didn’t make sense for her to go all the way to her place and then come back.

What to do?

Well, she said, I could go hang out with Todd. I’ve been meaning to see his place and meet his kittens.

Todd is the proud papa to two adorable kittens.

Good idea, I thought. I contacted Gentleman Todd, who was more than happy to entertain my sweetheart while I tended to my gay orgy.

He suggested that they have dinner and watch a movie, as both Shelby and Todd are film geeks. Shelby liked that idea.

Of course, it was safe to assume that they would also fuck.

We acknowledge that ours is not a conventional romance.

I bundled up Shelby and sent her out into the snow just before the first men arrived. Jimmy processed his crew according to the routine—they arrived, sign off a check list, pay a fee, strip naked and check their clothes in bags marked by name. All very efficient.

Things went largely as planned, but Jimmy was perturbed. He had expected seventeen men, but with the snow, only eight or so had shown up. A few more might arrive late, but still . . . you plan a sex party for weeks, and Mother Nature wrecks it. This put him out of sorts.

Never mind that tonight’s theme was bukkake. One of the men had asked to be the bottom for a cum fest. “You can’t do a decent bukkake party with so few men,” Jimmy fumed. “The guys will be happy doing what they do, whatever, but I like to deliver as advertised.”

The fellow who had requested the theme was also absent, which only irked him more.

I toured the party, still dressed, glass of wine in hand.

The men were doing fine, theme or no theme. Four were on my bed in a side-by-side sixty-nine, while one sat in my chair blowing two cocks.

A loner sat in another chair, watching and jerking. I had my eyes on him for later, if I decided to play along. He was a frat boy type: twenty-five, built, dark crew cut.

For now though, I was content to watch or chat with Jimmy.

The first round of cum shots was fired. Men untangled from one another, washed up, and began to retrieve clothes. It was a small party. Maybe it would end early, and I could get back to fucking my Shelby.

About that time, Oak arrived.

He was full of apologies for being late—after all, he had requested the bukakke shower. Jimmy forgave him, taking his money and clothes.

Oak was fucking hot.

Tall, blonde, smooth body, pierced nipples, with tattoos derived from Eskimo designs. His hair was in a shag; he looked like a cuter version of the young Keith Richards.

Another fellow, Larry, was dressing to leave. He saw Oak stripping down, and reversed his own actions, taking down the pants he had just buckled.

Now we’re talking.

Larry, Oak and I went to the bedroom. We stood to one side watching as the remaining men went at it. Their eyes duly noted the arrival of a hot number like Oak.

“So,” I whispered to my companions. “Who was it that requested a bukakke scene?” Oak smiled meekly and raised his hand. “Nice. Should we get on that, then?”

I asked the men on my bed to push aside to make room. Larry sat on the bed, and Oak began to suck his cock. I ditched my clothes, dropping my cock into Larry’s mouth.

Oak’s long lean body was just too tempting a target. We soon had him stretched out on the bed. He sucked Larry’s cock as the frat boy blew him. Three fellows stood around, jerking. He was set for a nice drenching.

“Hey Oak,” I asked. “You like to get fucked?”

He took the cock from his mouth and looked at me.

“Not really,” he answered. He sucked some more, then looked back. “Well, sometimes.”

Sounds like he meant to say: fuck me hard, cowboy.

I tugged on a condom and lubed up. I nudged the frat boy aside. He sucked Oak from another position as I entered his ass.

Now Oak was full. Cock in his mouth, cock in his ass, his cock in a cute boy’s mouth, surrounded by jerking men.

I revved up, fucking him hard and deep.

The first load came with a noisy release, hitting Oak in his hair, on his neck.

The next was dumped on his taunt belly.

Oak sucked Larry furiously. I pounded away.

The frat boy seemed to need more space for do his work. I pulled out for a moment. He dug in, sucking Oak as intently as Oak sucked Larry.

I pulled on a latex glove, lubed up, and slid two fingers into Oak’s ass. I curved my fingers up to hit his prostate. He gasped his pleasure into Larry’s cock.

I massaged his perineum to maximize my hit. After a bit, I put the frat boy’s fingers there. “Rub, like this,” I instructed, guiding his fingers through the motion.

I pressed down on Oak’s pubis as I fingered him. He pushed himself into the pressure me. I curled my hand into a fist and pressed it hard into his gut.

Larry came for Oak, soaking his face.

Oak gave over to moans, and then shot his load.

Frat boy iced the cake.

I wasn’t going to cum. I had plans for later.

As the men cleaned up, Oak asked me, “How did you know how to do that?”

Nothing is more gratifying than a mystified sex partner. “Just a little bit of know how and a whole lot of trial and error,” I shrugged.

He gave me his phone number.

With Jimmy and the boys gone, I phoned Shelby.

The coast is clear, baby. Come home.