The Yacht Race (mostly m/f, some light m/m)

[Duke610]

Greg, Jeff, Brett and Hank all went in on a syndicate to buy a racing sailboat after their divorces were final. It made the financial burden easier, and always ensured there was a crew for the races. It was about 30’ long, with a small cabin just about right for two people, with a small, triangular-shaped bed in a tiny cabin in the bow.

Greg is your total linebacker type – big, beefy, blonde, hairy, quite a lot like the guy in the “Your Dad Wasn’t A Metrosexual” Canadian Club ads. Jeff & Brett get teased all the time about being brothers. They don’t look all that much alike, but they have the same average frame, short wavy brown hair and wire-framed glasses. Post-divorces, they also both appear to be bi these days. Hank is the classic Southern Italian stocky bear, with wolfish gray/blue eyes, and a face that perpetually needs a shave.

For the race out to the Farallons and back, Greg announced that he was bringing, “…a bottle of Jack Daniels, a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken, and a hooker.” Yeah right, but sure enough if he didn’t come striding down the dock, in that rangy, rolling sailor’s gate of his with all three. The hooker’s name was Steffi, and she actually seemed nice, and not skanky at all. She settled in up in the front cabin with her bag and a book. “Come down whenever you want,” she said airily.

“So what’s this little adventure going to costs us?” I asked Greg. “Well, with tip it works out to about $150 each. She’ll do anything we ask her to, but we only get to fuck her 10 times total between the four of us. So I figure we’ll pro-rate it that way once we get back.”

We got the boat ready, left the marina, and joined the small flotilla of sailboats heading out the Golden Gate. About an hour into the race, Greg announced, “Okay boys, I’m in.” He went down into the cabin, and with his back to us, stripped off his t-shirt, and kicked off his sandals and cargo shorts. He thumbed down his white jockey shorts and walked ahead into the cabin. You could almost sense more than see his big, thick penis swaying in the air in front of him. He ducked into the cabin and pulled the curtain closed behind him.

Steffi’s eyes widened. “Your picture doesn’t do you justice,” she purred. “You’re one really well endowed man.” “Yeah, and I’m one really horny, well-endowed man,” Greg replied, “Let’s get the party started!” She opened her legs and gave a little wave of encouragement – as if he needed it. In the cramped, small space, he crawled between her legs, with his huge, swollen erection bouncing back and forth against her thighs. He grabbed the top of his huge shaft with one hand, with his index finger sticking out, and pushed his finger inside her, with his cock following right behind. He slipped in easily until he was about halfway in and then she grimaced, “Hold on a moment baby, give me a little time.” So Greg rocked back and forth, in and out, gently and slowly easing more of his prodigious length inside of her. Eventually, with one last gasp from her and one more groan from him, he was buried inside her. At this point, with the process of penetration behind them, they began to fuck. And how. Her feet were braced up against the low ceiling of the cabin, and he thrust himself in and out of her with long, deep, plunging strokes of his big, red 9” cock. The motion of the boat rocking in the waves only added to their heightened pleasure. After about 10 minutes, his breath started to come in gasps. She reached down between his thickly forested legs and squeezed his congested, stone-like testicles. “Hold on baby, wait for me,” she whispered. “Can’t. So fuckin’ horny, gonna blow,” Greg gasped. His thrusts became faster, even frenzied, and a low growl began deep in his throat. Incredibly, Steffi felt his penis get even longer and thicker as his orgasm swept over him, and he roared like a bull as rope after thick, squirting rope of his semen poured deep inside her.

After a moment to get their breath back, he rolled to one side and in long, slow, delicious motion, his still-erect penis slid out of her, ending with a small, wet plop that made them giggle. His sperm was everywhere, on the bed, in their pubic hair, on their bellies. “Wow, I’ll be getting more of that today, won’t I?”Steffi asked? “You betcha,” Greg said with a lazy grin as he got up and came out into the cabin.

The three other guys were in the cockpit applauding when he came out. His penis was now flaccid, but still very long and thick, an angry purplish-red, glistening with his and Steffi's juices. He grabbed the base and twirled it at the guys helicopter style. He grabbed a cloth from the galley, and wrapped his penis in it, rolling it from side to side to dry himself off, then dabbing at the copious amounts of semen on his legs and belly and pubic hair. Then, he tugged on his jockey shorts, still obscenely swollen and stretched by his big genitals, threw on the rest of his clothes and sauntered up on deck.

He collapsed in the corner and grabbed a Heineken out of the cooler. All expansive and last-name basis now, he turned to Jeff and Brett and said, “Okay, Costerman and Ettore. Does one of ya wanna go jump that shit, or you just gonna homo yourselves off all day?”

More to come shortly. Everybody gets off at least twice before the day is through.

 

[Duke610]

While Greg had been down in the cabin giving Steffi her first serious fuck of the day, Jeff and Brett had been lounging around playing peekaboo with each other, letting their cocks and balls fall out of their shorts “accidentally.” They were both now rigidly erect, practically drooling with desire. Sipping a beer and working the rudder, Hank appeared oblivious.

“So, Costerman and Ettore,” Greg said, “Is one of you gonna go down and hit that shit, or are ya just gonna homo yourselves off all day?” He’d obviously sized up what was going on between them. Jeff shot him a look of venomous contempt but then, without a word, they got up and went down into the cabin together. They began the same ritual of stepping out of their clothes – but helping each other with the buttons and snaps, and as hairy chests and penises came free, gently touching and stroking each other. “See,” exclaimed Greg triumphantly, “What’d I tell you. What a waste of perfectly good pussy.” Hank had been paying more attention than it appeared, and he had a pretty good idea of what was about to happen. He just snorted and said nothing.

Jeff and Brett shot Greg the bird over the shoulders and then went into the small cabin where Steffi lay waiting. “Well,” she exclaimed. “If it isn’t the boys who like boys? What can I do for you? Whatever it is, it won’t be as much effort as fucking your buddy Captain Longhorn!” “I’m not so sure,” said Jeff. “We want to double you.” Steffi was a shrewd woman and it didn’t take her long to figure out. “So, gay, only not so gay with you both in me at once,” she stated. “And you figure your buddy Greg stretched me out with that big horsecock of his.” Jeff and Brett just grinned and nodded.

She examined their cocks with a professional’s judicious eye. “Brett, you’re thicker. Lie down on your back.” He did, and straddled him and impaled herself with one smooth motion that left them both gasping. She glanced over her shoulder at Jeff. “Okay, go for the prize, you know what to do. I think.” she said with a wicked grin.

Up on deck, Greg and Hank were wondering what was going to happen. There had been silence for several minutes. All of a sudden there was a loud bang, a muffled curse, and then the hatch cover on the front deck popped open and the top of Jeff’s head popped out. From the motions he was making, he was obviously fucking.

After a moment of struggle, he’d slipped his cock inside Steffi, rubbing right along the swollen length of his buddy Jeff, who was already inside her. Struggling to get a purchase and maneuver in the small cabin, he bashed his head against the ceiling, swore, and then undogged and popped open the hatch with one hand.

“’tha fuck?!?” shouted Greg, unsure of what was going on. “Double penetration! Yeah BAY-BEE, YEAH!” yelled Jeff. It was getting more than a bit hot in the cabin as the three of them contorted themselves. Two bi guys fucking a girl all at once was too much for the three of them to bear. “I don’t know how much of this I can take,” groaned Steffi. “Us either,” said Jeff and Brett almost simultaneously. The sheer eroticism of the moment swept over the three of them and they all came, noisily, within seconds of each other. “Funny, I didn’t make her do that,” thought Greg. “Funny, Greg didn’t make me do that,” thought Steffi. With almost zero room to maneuver in the cramped cabin, Jeff and Brett & Steffi managed to untangle themselves and fell back on their elbows, laughing uproariously. “God that was fun,” giggled Steffi. “Are you guys always like that?” Jeff and Brett blushed and ducked their heads.

Easing out of the tiny cabin, they found another towel and gently wiped each other off as best they could before getting dressed and coming back up on deck. Greg looked at them with a lecherous leer. “So it took the two of you fruits to get her off, maybe there’s some hope for you after all.”

Next, Hank gets off. Then an orgy.

 

[62911]

This is one of the best stories I have read on this site, a huge turn on. Please keep going.

 

[Duke610]

Greg’s divorce happened because of his rampant infidelity. Jeff and Brett’s happened because they’d grown apart from their wives and were coming to grips with their desire for other men. Hank’s was the worst of all, because his wife woke up one day and with absolutely no warning said she was leaving him for another woman. Although nowhere near as well-endowed as Greg, Hank’s cock was incredibly thick, he had nuts each the size of a small woman’s clenched fists, and his beefy body was covered from neck to toes with thick, curly dark hair. So, not every woman‘s cup of tea, but extremely virile in his own specific way. The notion that his marriage had ended because of his wife’s total lack of attraction for him hit home even more than the other three who, for various reasons, blew their marriages up with issues around their own sexuality.

He tolerated Greg’s blustering promiscuity, and he was secretly amused by Jeff and Brett’s fumbling attempts to realize their true desires, but he felt if any of the four of them truly needed and desired the comfort of a woman like Steffi, it was him. So, as Hank and Brett clambered out of the cabin, red-faced and nudging each other, he pushed past them and went in. The now-familiar ritual of discarded clothing, and the other three watched his hairy back as he lumbered forward into the cabin.

Steffi at this point was starting to feel like maybe she’d be getting a bit more than she bargained for with this crew. On sight, she’d thought Hank was adorable in a cuddly-bear sort of way. And, she’d been with enough men like him to know that beefy hairy guys can be hung a little to the short side. After what she’d just been through with the other three, she thought, a little something – figuratively and literally – would be a welcome relief. But Greg had told her what he’d been through with his wife, and she had a little flicker of worry about what he might have in mind.

That flicker turned into a raging brushfire as she saw the look of lust on his face as he threw the curtain aside and clambered into the cabin. His cock was rigidly erect and, almost impossibly, nearly as wide as it was long. And it wasn’t exactly short. The musky smell of his sweat in the curls of hair all over his body clung in the air, with the pungent, bleachy odor of semen from his three predecessors.

“On your hands and knees. Please.” he ordered. Bracing herself for yet another vaginal assault, Steffi did as he asked. Knowing she’d be – if nothing else – well lubricated, Hank pushed her forward so he could stick his head up through the hatch, and then impaled her in one continuous, smooth motion that left them both gasping. “Godamighty DAMN! You’re easily as thick as the two of them put together. Jesus!” groaned Steffi. He’d pushed himself all the way inside her and was now rocking and bucking and ramming as he tried to push every last millimeter of himself inside her. She reached back between their legs, reaching for his enormous dangling testicles. They were swaying back and forth so violently – both from his lunging motions as from the swaying of the boat – that she missed them on the first pass, but caught them expertly as they swung back. She pulled his distended, heavy scrotum down, feeling his huge eggs that overflowed from her hand. Pulling and tugging and twisting his sac seemed only to inflame his desire and he now began pile-driving himself in and out of her – pulling his impossibly thick cock out to the point that only his loose foreskin was still inside her, and then cramming himself back in again.

Greg was a hot fuck, Steffi thought to herself, the boys were a nifty little kink, but this is a whole ‘nother thing. He’s using me to get back at his wife, if not all women in general. That thought, for some reason, coupled with doggie being a position she actually liked, plus her attraction for him, plus the unusual sensation of his oddly enormous cock inside her, drove her quickly to a series of noisy, powerful orgasms. She came and came and came with a joy and abandon that she rarely felt these days. Hank continued his bucking and ramming and then just as she sensed he was getting ready to come, instead of speeding up as Greg and Hank & Brett had, he actually slowed down.

Then, in one quick and completely unexpected move, he pulled out of her, grabbed her by her hips with his hairy paws, and flipped her over on her back. Completely helpless and unable to move, she laid on her back staring up at this big, beefy hairy guy kneeling down near her feet, starting to jack himself off. My God, she thought to herself, he almost can’t get both of his hands around his own penis! His balls slapped back and forth against her thighs and his groans became shouts and he came and the whole world stopped.

Hank let out a huge “U-N-N-N-H-H!”, and a rope of sperm of incredible thickness, length and duration came out of him. For at least three seconds his semen continuously sprayed into the cabin. He powered his cock around like a firehose, dousing her belly, her tits, her face and hair, the cabin wall. It stopped and he paused, gasping for breath for a second. Then, another “U-N-N-N-H-H!” and he pointed his penis straight up in the air and another volley shot up through the hatch and disappeared above them. Then, one more, only somewhat smaller and shorter again all over her. After that, things subsided somewhat and he sank back against the cabin wall, gasping.

“Sweet Jesus,” Steffi whispered. “I’ve never in my entire life seen anything like that!” Hank grinned lazily, and said nothing. He could hear the shouts and cries of the other three up on deck. The funk of sweat and sex and sperm in the cabin was now over-powering. He rolled over to leave, and Steffi said, “There’s a box of stuff I brought in the galley, could you toss it in? And, tell the fellas nobody else for at least an hour. I’ve gotta do some maintenance work here!”

Obligingly, he rolled out of the cabin, and found the box full of towels, handi-wipes and other useful supplies for cleaning up after an orgy held in a small space. He passed it in to her. Ignoring his clothes, he stepped up naked on the deck where the other three were staring over his shoulders in silence.

He turned around and looked up. On the jib, about 6’ up, just above the hatch, was one long, continuous stripe of his semen slowly oozing down and dripping onto the deck. “You fuckin’ moron,” Greg growled, “do you have any idea how much that sail cost?” “Whatever, dude,” said Hank airily, “You’re the only one who hasn’t managed to get her off. Put it on my bill.” Sitting down in the corner, with his hairy legs wide open, and his heavy genitals swaying back and forth to the motion of the boat, he added, “No more takers for an hour, she’s gotta freshen up. After that, we’ll have to decide what to do.”

Next, I think Greg goes back for seconds. Then, perhaps the orgy. And did I mention they’re about to bump into an around-the-world solo sailor who hasn’t gotten laid in six months?

 

[Duke610]

With Steffi below decks happily ensconced cleaning up the horrendous mess in the cabin, the men readied themselves for the end of the first half of the race, as they rounded the Farallons to race back in to San Francisco Bay. This involved photographing one of them holding up the morning’s paper with the far side of the island in the background as proof of life that they’d been there. But, that over, they settled into the long run back into the bay. Leaning against the cabin wall, staring back behind them, Jeff sat up suddenly. Approaching them with surprising speed was another racing yacht, about the same length but considerably wider. It had a large Australian flag sewn into the mainsail, and the side of the boat said Spirit of Oz, with many sponsorship decals all over it.

“My God, it’s Rod Barson!” Jeff shouted. And indeed it was, Rod Barson, the daredevil explorer who was attempting a solo circumnavigation of the globe in his sailboat. His adventures had been in the news and posted on his web site for weeks, and it had been known for sometime that his landfall in California might be the same day as the race. They’d hoped they might catch a glimpse of him from afar, but were really pumped they’d seem him up close.

As he drew alongside, Greg – ever the fratboy – yelled, “Hey, Barson! Wanna beer?!?” “Sure, mate!” exclaimed Barson. He was easily 6’4” and 240# of ripped Aussie muscle, wearing only a very skimpy, torn and faded pair of levi cutoffs. His skin was tanned golden brown, and he was covered absolutely everywhere with a dense underbrush of thick red fur. He expertly maneuvered his boat alongside and they passed him an ice cold can of Heineken. He popped it open and drained it in one swallow, reared his head back and let out a war whoop. “Now THAT’S what I’m talking ‘bout!” he roared. “Haven’t had one of those since I left Hawaii 10 days ago!”

“We’ve also got a hooker aboard,” confided Greg. “REALLY! A hot piece of tail would be a whole LOT better than a cold beer,” yelled Barson. “Permission to come aboard?” With a jaunty wave, Greg brought him in. Barson tossed a dockline to Greg, who cleated it up and pulled Spirit of Oz up against the stern of Equus. Barson jumped aboard, and Greg let the line free, and Spirit of Oz fell into tow about 20 feet behind them. Standing amongst the four others in the cockpit, Rod was like a man among men – so much bigger and hairier and more virile than any of them.

But that wasn’t slowing Greg down a bit. “Oh, STEPH-a-NIE! You’ve got a VIS-i-TOR!” he yelled. Standing in the cabin, Steffi popped her head up through the hatch and was face to face with Rod Barson’s monstrously bulging crotch. “My God, it’s Barson!” she chirped and hopped up into the now crowded cockpit. “You know who he is?” gaped Greg. “Of COURSE, silly! He was on the cover of People two weeks ago when he landed in Hawaii. I read he might be along the course today and took a chance he might be along. Do you think I wanted to spend 10 hours on this tub? Not that it hasn’t been fun!” she smiled sweetly at him. “C’mon big guy, let’s go inside.” With that, Steffi and Rod jumped downstairs into the cabin.

One glance into the cabin and Rod shook his head. No way would he fit in that cramped space. Looking around, he disconnected the leg of the dinette and put the table down in between the seats, moving the cushions around to make a double bed. Steffi was already naked and he dropped his cutoffs to the floor. The five of them gaped in shock at the enormous penis dangling between his legs. For a guy has big as he was, Rod wasn’t just built ‘in proportion’ he was almost ludicrously out of proportion, dangling heavily between his hairy legs almost halfway down to his knees.

Steffi fell to the floor, picked up his gigantic phallus, rolled his prodigious foreskin back and attempted to suck his cock. She could barely get the head into her mouth, much less any of the shaft. Yet she kept trying and trying to get her jaw open wider to fit it in. “Relax, luv, most can’t even get that far,” he grinned. “Got some lube?” Still trying to take Rod’s python of a cock into her mouth, Steffi nodded vigorously. Jeff and Brett, their eyes riveted on Rod’s giant genitals, passed over a squirt bottle of lube from the counter.

“Here luv,” said Barson and he squirted a generous dollop of lube into Steffi’s palm, and guided it over the purple head of his penis, which was nearly as big as a tennis ball. “Squeeze it. More. More. More. Little more. There. Right there.” Then, he pulled his foreskin forward, up and over the first and second knuckles of her hand. Rod Barson had docked himself by pulling his foreskin up over Steffi’s hand. Everyone else but him gasped in shock, but this was obviously nothing new for him. “Move your hand around,” he commanded quietly. She did and he began groaning quietly. “So fuckin’ horny, haven’t gotten off since Hawaii,” he whispered.

After a minute or two, he hooked his big hairy paws under her armpits and hoisted her up in the air as easily as a child with a doll. She instinctively tucked her legs up over his shoulders as he lowered her onto his now-rigid cock. She could literally feel the lips of her pussy pushing his foreskin off the head of his penis as he began his monumental, relentless intrusion inside of her. Inch after inch after inch he slowly and carefully impaled her – stopping every minute or so to rotate her back and forth around his thick shaft. She whimpered and gasped and groaned alternatively trying to bury him deeper inside her, and stopping short when the pressure became too much.

“There’s no room to fuck on that little bed, and I can’t go much longer, babe,” Barson said. “Let’s change it up.” In one swift move he lifted her up off of him and set her on her feet and she immediately collapsed in shock on the floor. The sudden emptiness inside left her dizzy and wanting – craving – his mammoth cock more than ever.

“Okay, here’s the drill,” Rod instructed. “Squat on your feet, and wrap your arms real tight around your knees.” He laid back on the dinette with his feet on the floor. “You lot,” he nodded at Greg and Hank, “pick her up one hand on the elbow and one on the arse.” They did. “Hold her above me, and you lot,” nodding at Brett and Jeff, “pick up my penis and guide her inside me.” Somehow he’d figured out the dynamics – Jeff and Brett didn’t need to be asked twice. It took almost a minute of Up! Down! A little forward! Over to the left! Before THERE! – and Jeff and Brett were able to guide the Rod’s swollen phallus back inside Steffi again, as she let out a gurgling gasp of pleasure.

Without further instruction, everyone seemed to know their part. Rod lay still, as Greg and Hank hoisted her up and down off of his cock, with Jeff and Brett steadying it and maintaining everyone in position, using their one free hand each to grab his huge testicles and pull and stretch them back and forth. Looking up at Hank and Greg, Rod made a twirling motion with his big finger and – carefully – they began handing Steffi from hand to hand as they spun her in slow circles around his engorged cock. A minute of that was all it took for Rod to have an enormous, shouting, bucking orgasm. After a moment, everybody slowly relaxed and they let Steffi – still impaled on his mammoth purple member, sink down on this hairy sunburnt god.

“Pass me a towel,” she whispered. But as she lifted herself off of Rod and his cock fell out of her and slapped down onto her belly, a massive gush of his sperm fell out of her. She grabbed the towel and held it against her pussy, trying to sop up the mammoth amount of his cum that kept oozing out of her. She rolled to the side and got up. “Hate to hump and run, but I’ve got a press conference at 5 pm at Pier 39,” he stated cheerily. “Ta blokes, it’s been awesome. And Miss Steffi, I believe I’m at the Mark Hopkins all week.”

He threw his shorts back on, bounded up into the cockpit, pulled Spirit of Oz back in, jumped on her bow, untied the dockline, and jumped into the cockpit, raised the sail and quickly gained speed, passing Equus with a blast of his airhorn as he continued on into San Francisco and his next stop on his trip around the globe.

 

[Duke610]

Rod Barson’s skillful departure was unseen by Steffi and the four men, as they stood below decks, stunned and astonished at the sheer primal, animal rutting perversity of what had just happened. As if of one mind, the four men all dropped their cargo shorts and stood there, with their four rigid erections of such various sizes and shapes.

“It’s all of us now Steffi, all at once,” said Greg quietly but urgently. “If you aren’t ready now, you’ll never be.” She acquiesced and got on her hands and knees on the floor. Hank mounted her from behind, sliding his monstrously thick penis deep inside her in one smooth, assured motion. Greg stuck his long cock inside her mouth and began giving her a vigorous skull-fucking. Jeff and Brett stationed themselves to each side, and she began jacking their stiff cocks. They leaned across her back and began kissing each other. “Jesus kee-RIST you guys, give it a rest!” yelled Greg. After a few minutes, he exclaimed, “Rotate!” and they all shifted one position. Now he and Hank were getting jacked, and Jeff and Brett were getting sucked and fucked. They leaned forward with their hips, pushing their cocks as deep as possible inside her mouth and pussy. At the same time, they grabbed each other’s nipples and leaned their upper bodies backwards – pulling themselves away from each other. Greg let out a low grunt of disapproval but said nothing.

Then, a few minutes more and another rotation, and then another one so they all had been in each position once. In an earlier, more genteel time, Steffi would have been known as a courtesan. Sensing the approaching orgasms of these four hot studs, she expertly altered her pressure – a hand squeeze here, a nibble there, a hip roll there, to expertly bring all four of them to simultaneous orgasm. Within seconds of each other, all four of the men shot their loads in the air, almost of all of it landing on her back with wet splattering sounds. They wiped her back off, and she staggered forward into the cabin for some rest. But not before sending one text message and making two brief cell phone calls.

The men went on deck and spent the rest of the afternoon trying to compete at least half-heartedly in the race. But, with all inhibitions more or less gone, none of them bothered to get dressed again, oblivious to the glances and stares from others in the boats they passed. Greg finally fell asleep on the roof of the cabin.

Steffi came on deck and, realizing that she owed them one last fuck, got an idea. So, as Equus passed under Golden Gate Bridge and entered the bay, tourists up on the bridge and boats nearby were greeted with the sight of a big, athletic, hairy and extremely well-endowed man lying on the roof of a sailboat, as a pert, petite naked woman came out of the cabin, scrambled up on deck, and then impaled herself on his massive phallus.

But, then, she reached above her head and grabbed the boom with both hands, and then, amazingly, swung her legs up so she was hanging from the boom upside down like a monkey, but still with Greg’s rigid, 9” cock buried inside her. Applause, war whoops and wolf whistles erupted from the boats around them, and a few cheers could be heard drifting on the wind from observers high above them on the bridge. The sheer public vulgarity of this exotic sex act, between two incredibly sexual human beings, was mind-bending and breathtaking. Nobody who ever saw it would ever forget.

When they came and collapsed in each other’s arms, giggling, Hank said, “Ah, you two lovebirds might want to go get dressed. We’re less than 15 minutes from the finish line.” So they sailed on to a respectable mid-class position, and then returned to the marina. After they finished cleaning the boat, the five of them stood on the dock. “Well. . .” Greg said. “Greg, you’re a sweetheart, and I’ll always love you, but you’re never going to get another woman, particularly not as wonderful as Lia was, unless you cut the fratboy bullshit and grow up,” said Steffi. “You two, just admit your gay. Nobody cares anymore. Your exes will be relieved you aren’t going to hook up with women, and your kids won’t mind.” Jeff and Brett grinned at her. “Hank, it’s not your fault that your wife turned out to be a lez, and it isn’t the fault of the women of the world, either. Stop taking it out on us. I’ve got a friend, not a pro, who likes guys built like you. Here’s her number,” she said, scribbling a phone number on one of her business cards. “It was a great day, but I’ve gotta go.” The hired Town Car she had phoned from the boat sat idling in the parking lot at the top of the marina. She gave each of them a chaste kiss on the cheek, and then skipped up the dock, her hair glistening in the late afternoon sun.

There wasn’t much to say after that, so the four men shook hands, high-fived and bear-hugged each other, and then departed.

Three hours later . . .

After a long, hot bath and half a valium to relax, Greg sat alone on the edge of the bed in his apartment, and began kissing and licking the head of his penis. As it stiffened and lengthened he put it more fully in his mouth and began self-sucking, replaying the sights and sounds and tastes and touches and smells of the remarkable day.

Jeff hit the garage door opener and guided his BMW SUV into the narrow parking stall in his apartment. “Let me grab my duffel and you can let me out the door,” Brett said. Jeff hit the remote again and they were enveloped in gloom as the garage door closed. In a voice choked with emotion, he said, “No. Come upstairs. I want you to fuck me. I’m finally ready.”

There was a knock on the door of Room #850 at the Mark Hopkins. Rod Barson opened it. “Miss Stephanie, I was delighted to get your text. C’mon in, we’ve only just met and we have SO much more to find out about each other!”

In a small, candle-lit apartment far on the other side of town, Hank dropped his jockey shorts and Steffi’s friend Melinda King sank to the floor on her knees. “What do you want to do?” she whispered. “I want to fuck my way all the way inside you and never stop,” said Hank.

About thirty minutes later, five men and two women had explosive orgasms with their respective lovers, their cries, groans, shouts and screams echoing around the walls of their respective bedrooms, and out into the cold San Francisco night air.

The End. Or, perhaps, the beginning?

 

[jaodernein]

please make it the beginning........... :| Great story by the way

 

[Duke610]

Thanks!

It could go in so many directions. All of them again? Any particular interest in any combination in particular?

 

[jaodernein]

Keep going as you were, just anything haha keep it strong!

 

[jaodernein]

anything?

 

[Duke610]

Sorry, I've been giving it some thought but I'm stumped. Putting them all together for a mega-orgy would just not be plausible. I know it's fiction, but c'mon. :smile:

 

[millionman]

DUKE610, You could actually write individual chapters for each person. The way in which you finished the group story left the option open to follow the characters in separate chapters and then you can work your way back into another gathering, if you so chose.