Wednesday, July 20, 2022

Fornication Weekend--Thursday: A JO Party Kicks It Off

 Rural Georgia—June, 2022

Sometime after IML, where I talked with Ray Dalton about it, I decided I wanted to go to his Fornication Men’s Wellness Retreat in Georgia.  The sensible side of me told myself that it was too far away.  “Georgia.  And Southern Georgia, no less.  Gas prices are high.  Are you stupid…?” On and on that sensible voice droned away as I tried to fall asleep.  But my more adventurous side whispered:  “Think what hot blog posts you could get out of it…”

Guess which side won.


It was a long way.  I don’t like to do more than six hours in a car in a day, so I broke it down to three days of driving with two overnights.  I wanted to arrive ready to go, not totally exhausted.  On the way down I stopped at Lexington, KY and then Spartanburg, SC.  I love taking some back roads into the camp—which is in the middle of nowhere.  (So much so Google maps couldn’t tell me how to find it, at least not correctly!)

The drive in was hot.  It hit 100 degrees on my arrival day.  I finally found it and was given a tour of the camp by a cute Latin manning the front desk.  There were many cabins, trailers full of seasonal regulars, a pool, a clubhouse with a cafe attached and, he shyly told me, a playhouse set up with ‘things,’  I was tenting and the first of the men to arrive in that area.  I set up quickly.  I took a walking tour.  I basically recovered the same ground as my tour by golf cart, but it felt really good to stretch my legs.

Thursday was sort of the unofficial kick-off to the weekend.  Many men were not there yet, including three of the porn guys, but there was a small play party scheduled for the early evening and a talk/discussion with Ray, later that night.  I read a book at my campsite, napped a little and saw/heard a flurry of activity at the clubhouse as Ray arrived.  Slings were unpacked.  Cases of water.  And crate after crate—his vehicle was truly loaded.  Ray remembered me from Chicago—by sight if not by name—hardly surprising with the number of men he meets.

I had dinner at the café by the pool.  I was given a schedule.  The theme of tonight’s get together was ‘JO Party’ hosted by Reuben Foxx down in the playhouse.  Later Ray would be talking about Sex and Intimacy in the Clubhouse.  I went back to the tent and donned my boots and jock, then added my walking shorts over them for the trek there.  I grabbed my lube and set off…

 

I like the layout of the cabin—which is the campsite’s play space.  There is big screen porn with a few old pews as benches. To the left is a room with a fuckbench and a gloryhole booth, to the right there is a room with a sling.  I am not the first person to arrive.  Reuben is sitting there naked but for a jock and boots with one other man.  This guy is around my age, and is still dressed.  There is a huge pump bottle of lube—one that I will keep seeing, slowly diminishing, all weekend.


Rueben is a newcomer to porn, making his debut at Ray’s encouragement.
  He is friendly and warm.  He strokes as I lose the shorts and shirt under a bench against the wall, and not in front of the screen where he is sitting.  My disrobing causes the other man to grope his dick.  I sit next to the clothed man and stroke.

Are we really going to just JO?  Nope.  My neighbor on the bench, who is good looking in a scholarly way, is reaching for my cock.  He strokes me—and is soon giving me head.

“Suck that big dick,” says Reuben.

The guy goes to his knees.  He is great.  He takes me to the root repeatedly.  As he switches up to just licking the head, five or six more men arrive.  They strip or open zippers.  One sucks Reuben.  A young Latin stands to the back in just a jock.  He can’t take his eyes off my dick. 

My sucker does my balls, too, leaving lots of spit that dries fast in the heat.  I reach down to feel his dick under his shorts, but he bats my hand away.  He gives my cock one last deep throat and tells me to go play with others.

I walk over to the Latin.  He feels my wet cock with his right hand.  His left guides my free hand to his ass.  No mistake there.  He jerks me as I finger his butthole.  The Latin squirms.  (The next day I learn his name is Alberto, but will use it now—even while we are still anonymous.)  I move behind him, my back to the wall.  I do down on in a deep knee bend and lick my first hole of the weekend.  He groans and grinds back against me.  He is very furry all over and his ass crack is a forest of black hair.  I eat and spit.  Loudly.  Right in Reuben’s line of vision—as he gets his cock serviced.

More men are here now.  There is a little JO—but we are sucking or getting sucked—keeping it all oral.  I change that by standing up and working the head of my cock into Alberto.  He gasps and pushes back.  He doesn’t wait for me to inch in—he wants it now.  Alberto’s hole grinds into my pubes.  I hold a moment and begin the first fuck of the weekend.  He stands straight up at first, then slightly bent.  It makes for smaller strokes—but it’s a great warm up. 

I plow him harder now.  Two guys are watching and stroking to us.  The fuck excites them enough to turn from us and give each other head.  I pull out.  Alberto spins around and cleans my cock up.  I eat his hole again, pushing him down, making him hold on to a back of the bench.

Reuben stands up.  I nod to him—hoping he’ll spit roast Alberto with me.  But Alberto seems to be all about his hole at the moment—for I am eating  him out, really enjoying his ass jizz.  I stand up and fuck him again.  I fuck him with long strokes.  The sound of our coupling fills the small cabin.

Alberto pulls off me, cleans me up and excuses himself.

“Let me taste that dick,” says a guy to the back of me.  I turn and let him clean up any ass juices that Antonio missed.  This guy is a big bear, with a big long beard.  He pulls off me.  “Tomorrow you can do that to me.”  I make a mental note.

We have been here for maybe 45 minutes—the time allotted on the schedule.  Guys have filtered away fast.  The only men left  is a couple trading blow jobs right by the screen and Rueben and me.  I go over to him and kneel.  I start with his balls.  They are dry—with all the guys sucking his dick tonight, did no one lick them?  He sighs as my tongue connects.  And strokes my head.  I move up his shaft and suck his cock fully into my mouth and down my throat.  He sighs.  Content.

The guys in front of us leave.  (It’s an open bar, after all up at the Clubhouse.)  I pull off Rueben and do his balls one more time.  My tongue flicks over his taint—but I know that’s for another day.

Short and sweet.  No one trying to get off.

Very much a Welcome to Fornication.

2 comments:

  1. I don't think I'm brave enough to venture into the south, much less Georgia! You're a brave man. But then, this blog would seem to stand as a testament to that fact! Kizzes.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks. I am doing better at finding it in myself to do the braver thing.

      (A side note, this Georgia small town loves the owner of the campground. While I was there, law enforcement went out of their way to help out one of the campers because they have such a good rapport with the owner.)

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