CLAW—Warehouse Party Number Two—Sharing Hole

Cleveland—April, 2013

I woke up in plenty of time to grab a late dinner, read a little, and get dressed for the second warehouse party. 

 When I’d been online earlier in the day, I’d talked to a fuck bud who lives in Cleveland.  We had met in Detroit—the month I’d had two gangbangs. Bob wanted to do it again.  I convinced him it would be better for him to accompany me to the warehouse.  I’d had little luck in getting men to commit to a private group in the main hotel last year.  He agreed to try the warehouse party.  I hoped he’d have enough cock to satisfy him and that he wouldn’t be too fussy about who was giving it to him…

 I arrive at 11:00pm.  Doors have been open for an hour.  There are maybe 20 guys in the space.  I remove my flight suit, re-tie my chaps and adjust my cock inside the jock.  The clothes check attendant tries not to stare, but he can’t take his eyes off the swollen pouch of my yellow jock.  I head into the darkened room to see if I can find Bob.  He greets me from right inside the door.  We talk a little, than go right to the only fuckbench.  It’s wooden, but with some comfortable padding for his knees and stomach.  Bob is just a little younger than I, with dark hair on his head and everywhere else on his body.  He’s wearing a leather jock, a baseball cap and boots.

We talk a little.  He sucks my cock even less.  He climbs right up on the bench.  No one is paying any attention to us as I fall to my knees, between his protruding boots, and start to lick his furry ass.  He tastes great—hot and wet, salty and slightly metallic.  My cock grows.  I pull my lube from the waistband of my chaps and use the tiniest amount on my cock.  I can’t wait.  I stand up and slip it into him. 

The sound of my fucking draws a crowd.  Not just the 20 who were here earlier, but guys who have been arriving while my face was buried in his hole.  Hands are all over his back, all over my ass, all over my balls.  A handsome man in his 40’s works a thick dick out of his designer backless underwear and sticks it in Bob’s mouth.  Guys are stroking themselves or each other.  At the moment no one else has bent over to take advantage of all the hard flesh in this cubicle.  I pull out, spit in his hole and offer it to the man in Bob’s mouth.  Before he can move around, a trucker type, in just boots and a leather vest, is up Bob’s ass and pounding hard.  The handsome man waits his turn and a really young guy puts his cock into Bob’s mouth.

I watch the trucker.  Some guy I can’t see is sucking Bob’s ass juice off my cock.  That is just what I do to the Trucker as he pulls out and takes a breather.  The handsome man pushes in.  He groans and says, “Nice and wet.”  The words redouble the activity in our cubicle.  Another bottom I know from Michigan is bending over a bar stool and taking some of the cock waiting for Bob. 

No one is trying to get off.  It’s all about sampling ass and mouth.  I move around to Bob’s empty mouth and let him suck me.  Eventually I pull out and bend over to whisper in his ear:  “That was the fifth cock up you.  And you don’t even know what they look like…”

He grunts a response.  I take a brief turn up him again.  I let a patient leather Daddy up him next.  I’d noticed him at the beginning.  His cock is beer can thick.  I squirt lube on him and he inserts himself into Bob roughly with a “Take my dick, boy.”

Bob can only grunt around whoever is in his mouth at this point.

I fuck the Michigan bottom right there, so I can keep track of Bob.

By the time I’ve had enough from this other guy, I go to Bob’s ear again and whisper, “You’ve had at least ten guys up you.”  He grunts something I can’t hear—but the look on his face tells me the story.  Bliss.  “I have to go piss.”

I do—all over the cute boy from last night who always dominates the piss area.  I let my major stream play all over his cock—which is just a smidgeon smaller than mine. 

There is one guy watching me piss.  He looks ready to unload.  “All over you?” he asks the cute one. 

“Or down my throat,” I tell him.

He chooses my throat.  It’s great and my only mega load of the night.  He can’t stop himself—and I don’t need him to, I swallow it all, a delicious light, sweet brew of second hand beer and maybe a little soda.

I go back to Bob, past both crosses which are busy and loud.  There are still at least 12 guys in the room.  Quite a number fuck him, go off and come back for a second or third round during this first two hours--where Bob really never moves.  Just once he stands up to stretch, and gets pushed back in place for a new dick. 

Then the tall good looking guy who was my first fuck last night arrives.  He lays on his back on one of the swinging platform slings.  Suddenly his cubicle is as full as ours had been earlier.  We are left with one straggler, still fucking Bob.  He shoots a load.  He pulls out—he’s wearing a condom.  He takes it off carefully.

“Give it here.”  He looks at me, but does as he’s told.

I hold it over Bob’s hole, push my fingers deep into his ass, turning it inside out deep in his guts.  All three of us are delighted at this.  While the others all crowd around the new ass, I am left with a felching job.  Then I fuck in the remains.  Then more felching.

We walk and talk.

I fuck others.

I fuck my thin, handsome bud from yesterday.  He tells me Bob can have all the loads---the chemicals of semen in either of his holes give him a terrible headache.  Bob, of course, is thrilled.  He goes back to the bench.  A few guys follow wanting more of his hot hole.

I piss again.  Pissing with me, all over a second boy there now, is a guy who looks a lot like Chad Brock.  For a moment I think it might be.  But it’s not.  And who cares.  He’s hotter than fuck—and wants me to fuck him.  We head to the fuck bench.

I eat his hole.  He’s had a load before he got there.  I taste it.  I swallow a little, but keep most in his ass for lube.  I am rampant.  I am up him.  He barks at me to fuck him harder.  I do.  Faster he tells me.  I do.  A friend of his, with an incredible Rip Van Winkle beard, comes over to spread the cheeks of the man on the bench.  I pound.  He vocalizes loudly, but it can hardly be heard over the sounds of over 100 leather guys playing. 

Rip VW takes a turn up his pal’s hole.  He works his long, PA’ed cock up him.  “You shoot?” he asks me.  “There’s load up there.”  

I tell him it’s not mine.  He fucks a while longer, then the thought of the load is too strong for him.  He bends over and tongues the hole we’ve both fucked.  Soon he is twirling his beard (which is mid-chest length) into a thin strand.  He starts to work his beard up the man’s hole.  With each shove of his fingers, his chin is brought closer to his pal’s butt.  I hunker down next to him to watch the process.  His beard is gone.  His chin fills the cleft of the ass.  He pulls out.  He moves around and lets the bottom chew on his beard—to taste all the cum it’s brought out of his hole—a hole I am now tonguing.  RVW comes back around and does it again.  I watch fascinated.  This time, he gives me his beard to suck and chew.  I hesitate only a moment.  I suck all the semen out of his beard.  And then kiss RVW.  Then the bottom, who has gotten up to mash his tongue into both our mouths. 

We fuck some more. 

I felch another load from Bob.  Creamy and thick.  He tells me he's taken at least 18 men up his ass.

It’s now 3:00 am. 

Both Bob and I are ready to go home.  We go up to the sling, high on the platform and in the spotlight.  I fuck him.  I am joined by RVW, the piss boy (who seems to be a great top) and another hot bearded fucker.  We all take turns on Bob.  He’s jerking himself.

After we’ve all used his hole, I start the second round. 

And I’m there.  I shoot.  I can’t stop.  I hang onto the frame for dear life.  The other guys are all over me.  I let RVW clean my cock.  The bearded fucker felches.  I think RVW and the other bearded guy kiss….but I really don’t know.  I am lying on top of Bob and kissing him.