Got to Serve Somebody

Editor’s note: To get you caught up, gentle reader, I’m backtracking a week or so.

Seems like everybody’s trying to be my baby.

Jimmy scheduled his all-male orgy early this month, to avoid a conflict with Memorial Day weekend.

As usual, he arrived late. Anticipating this, I had set up everything in advance. When he arrived, we talked as he tinkered with his guest list.

“Looks like seventeen guys tonight,” he said. “And you’ll like this—Oak is back in town.”

I did like this.

I had a fine time meeting Oak back in March. We traded numbers, but he was moving to Japan a few days after we met, so that was going nowhere.

He was back to take care of some unfinished business.

I figured we had some unfinished business of our own.

When Oak arrived, I was sitting on my kitchen counter, chatting with Jimmy and sipping bourbon. There was already a sizable coterie of naked men going at it in my bedroom.

“Oak,” I said, pulling him close and kissing his cheek. “Long time.”

“Yeah . . . long time,” he said, grinning awkwardly.

“I hear you have moved?”

“Yeah, Japan. It’s pretty great. I love it there.” He was removing his clothes as he spoke, stuffing them into a black trash bag. Jimmy was preparing a label for it, writing “O-A-K” in block letters.

“That’s great. It’s good you are happy. Where do you live?”

“Japan . . . ” Oak looked confused by the question. He was now nude, running his hands through his bleached blonde hair.

“Yes, but I mean where in Japan?”

“Oh, right! Near Kyoto.” He looked to Jimmy. “So, are the other guys here?”

“In the bedrooms, Oak. Go make the rounds.”

“Cool. Hey, see you.” He smiled at me.

I watched him walk away, taking in his long tattoed body.

When he was gone, I turned to Jimmy. “I’m reasonably sure he didn’t remember me.”

“What, you fucked him?”

“Like he’s never been fucked.”

“Eh. He’s very cute, and very much an air head.” Jimmy put a hand on my knee. “Don’t take it personally.”

“Oh, I don’t. But gee whiz, what does a fellow have to do to make an impression? I fucked his lights out, in this very apartment, on my very bed, just six weeks ago.”

“Guess he needs a refresher course.”

I dropped my voice to a gruff octave. “We’ll see to that.”

Billy arrived soon after.

He eyed me hard as Jimmy took his information.

I returned the interest.

Billy is handsome, tall and black, with glasses and the first flecks of white in his close cropped hair.

This was Billy’s first time at one of Jimmy’s parties. He asked Jimmy a lot of the usual questions about protocol, how many tops, how many bottoms, and so on, keeping his eyes on me.

He smiled at me. “What are you drinking?”

“Bourbon.”

“Thanks, I’d love one.”

I hopped off the counter and went to the bar.

Southerners don’t deny a direct request for bourbon.

He was undressing as I returned with the glass—two fingers, two rocks. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thank you sir.”

His pants went into his assigned bag. I noted his fine build. He took the glass and downed it.

“Very nice. Thanks.”

“Not at all.”

His underwear went into the bag.

His cock was semi-erect, easily nine inches or more.

“Guess I’ll check out the bedrooms.”

“See you there.”

“I’ll be looking for you.”

I went back to the kitchen to chat with Jimmy.

In time, I decided to check in on the action. I poured another bourbon, and ditched my clothes in a closet.

One party regular is a bodybuilder with whom I have never exchanged more than a nod. He seems nice enough, but he is here with goals in mind.

He arrives at my place looking like an average Joe. Once the clothes are off, he puts in a tan baseball cap and is transformed into a silent buff top, ready to plow ass.

When he is cruising, the cap faces forward.

When he is fucking, he turns the cap backwards.

To my experience, that is the extent of his emotional range.

In one room, he was at work, cap reversed, with Oak’s ankles around his ears. Other itchy ankles jerked off as they watched, hoping for a turn.

Billy was standing across the room. One man crouched to suck his cock. Two others caressed his back and ass.

I leaned against a wall near the door, sipping my bourbon.

Billy turned to see me.

His eyes locked on me.

I glanced away, letting my eyes linger on Oak under the bouncing ass of the Joe in the baseball cap.

I looked back.

Billy’s eyes had not moved.

He glanced down, murmuring a few words to the cocksucker. He excused himself from the caresses.

He walked toward me as if heading to the door. He brushed into me, intentionally.

I instinctively pulled back to let him past.

He backed into me, again, intentionally.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I thought you were going to spank me.”

“What did you say?”

“I thought you were going to . . .”

Whack!

“ . . . unph!”

I slapped his ass again, hard.

The sudden noise reverberated in the quiet room. Heads turned.

No one has spanked at these parties.

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice dropping. I remembered what Jimmy had said—word was spreading at this party that the nice blonde is a quiet dom.

“I could tell by the way you hold your drink,” he whispered. “In your big hands.”

This giant professed to admire my large hands.

“Take my glass.”

He did.

I grabbed his tits and twisted.

“Come with me.” I pulled, walking backwards.

He followed, careful with my glass, his cock rock hard.

I dragged him to my bed. One man was on it, jerking to porn.

“Move,” I told the wanker.

He dropped his cock and jumped up.

“Put the glass on the nightstand, Billy.”

He did.

I threw him on the bed. I climbed on him, sitting over his chest.

“This boy is looking for a good sir,” Billy ventured.

“You talk a lot.” I took his glasses. I folded them and placed them on the nightstand.

I wrapped my left hand on his throat, just under his jaw.

I slapped his face.

He winced, but didn’t move.

“Good boy.” I stood on the bed over him. “Give me the ass.”

He flipped.

A crowd was gathering, tugging their cocks.

I gave him a good spanking. He took it like a man.

“Okay,” I said. “Let’s talk. C’mere boy.”

We lay back on pillows, his head in my arms. The gawkers dispersed, but for a few.

I rubbed his scalp roughly in my palms, listening as he talked out his fantasy.

“I want a sir to take me over and own his boy," he said quietly. "I want to be a good boy to a good sir. Sir can give boy to his friends, like his personal pass-around bottom. Sir can hood boy, sir, and do whatever he likes to boy. Sir will own boy.”

“That’s very hot, boy” I said, thinking that this sounded like a lot of work for the prospective “sir.”

Doms know that the subs really call the shots. The sub has to get his or her needs fulfilled and feel safe doing so. The dom has to make that happen, which can take loads of imagination, skill and dumb luck.

“Problem is,” Billy went on, “Too many are distracted my this.” He waved his huge hard cock.

“You do have a nice cock, boy” I said. “I can see why it is distracting. But it means nothing to me. It’s just a handle to hold when I fuck you.”

“Oh, yes sir!”

When Billy wiggled his member, it sent a signal to the remaining voyeurs: here is a monster cock to be admired. It was soon in the mouth of an admirer. Billy stood to accommodate the blowjob.

This was Billy’s curse. He wants to serve, but he lives with a cock others want to serve.

He is obliged to oblige.

He shrugged and bent his ass to me.

Billy is very tall. I stood in a chair and balanced a foot on the bed as I put on a condom. I pushed his head down and guided my cock into his ass.

He moaned.

His cocksucker redoubled his efforts.

I grabbed Billy’s hips and gave him a powerful rabbit fucking, rocking my weight between the bed and the chair.

Billy took it, no sweat.

I swatted away the cocksucker and tossed Billy on the bed.

The cocksucker took a turn fucking his ass. He went at it until he came.

I took over, and fucked Billy until he came.

As the party ended, it was just me, Jimmy and Billy.

“You boys have fun?” Jimmy asked.

“Righteous,” I offered.

“I want to see more of you,” Billy said, oblivious to Jimmy. “But remember, no marks and be discreet, okay?”

“That’s fine,” I said, thinking, how married are you?

We traded numbers.

sex
sexblogs
bisexuality
discipline
oral sex
anal sex
group sex
gay sex