Kent 11 - The Party
The night of Marcus' party took its time to arrive. I wasn't the only one waiting for it. Kent and Mike just about ran to the car when it was time to go over to Marcus' place.
"We'll get there in time. No rush, boys," I said. Mike shot me a big smile but didn't reply.
Since we'd all talked it over with Marcus, there was no mystery about what was going to happen. The lack of surprise did nothing to lessen their interest, and it was working for me too. As I settled into the car, I was wondering what kind of guy I'd be blowing. I imagined a few possibilities and settled on a nice fantasy. About then Kent turned around and looked at me.
"You're quiet. That's strange. Are you going to chicken out on us?" He asked like he'd accept the idea if I said that I was going to bail.
"No way! You guys know me better than that," I answered. Kent just smiled and turned back around. I went back to my mental image, which had changed to look pretty much like Kent. I closed my eyes and went back to the serious business of giving great head.
We drove a dozen blocks to a nice, newer apartment complex. Marcus lived on the ground floor at the front. The lights were all on and the music was already loud.
I entered the room and quickly scanned around. Marcus had persuaded a nice selection of meat to join his party. In truth, not every guy was gorgeous. More to the point, a couple would not have turned my head on the street. However this party was giving them all an advantage. They were Marcus' handpicked jocks. They liked to do it with other guys. If Marcus was to be believed, they'd all done something for him. But I didn't buy that story anymore.
I think it was the grin on one of the crew cut barricades near the patio door that eroded my trust in Marcus' story. If a catalog of straight boys came in the mail, he would be at the front of the football section. He wasn't my type any more than I was his. When he caught my eye, he took a quick sideways glance at his buddies then back at me in time to point to his crotch. Instinctively I looked away, only to hear a couple laughs from their direction. What had I gotten myself into?
"He's a jerk unless he's got a cock up his ass. Don't mind him." The voice came from behind me. I turned around.
"Hey! What are you doing here?" I asked. It was Jim.
"I'm here because I like dick, mine especially but others now and then. I hear you've been having a grand time lately, and I want to know why my phone hasn't been ringing." Jim was a bit drunk.
My instinct was to apologize, but there weren't any words. I actually liked Jim when I'd met him the second time. In fact, I liked him to the point that I was pleased about our first encounter at the party and later at the locker room. Jim might just be boyfriend material, I'd decided. What a semester! In a few short months I'd gone from barely being able to say "penis" to picking guys who would regularly provide me with it.
"Yeah, I've been a little busy." It was all I could come up with on short notice.
He threw an arm over my shoulders and said, "Well, good for you! Let me introduce you to some kind and gentle scholars. And best yet, they are all muscles and have great cocks!" Jim gushed. Scratch the boyfriend idea. When Jim was blotto, he flamed like a volcano. I flashed a grin at Kent as Jim towed me out into the sea of jocks.
Counting our host Marcus, Kent and Mike, Jim, and myself, there were twelve guys in the room. Jim, being no dummy even if he was sloshed, brought me right over to Brian. So Jim knows what I like. Kent had gotten me started, and in the process carved out a strong preference for baseball jocks. Go figure. The game bores me silly. The guys who play it make it worth watching.
Brian was another six-footer. His close cropped brown hair and intense eyes gave him the look of someone who took everything seriously. He projected his voice like most of the school jocks do, using deep tones to carry his stature beyond what eyes can derive from looks. The muscle shirt gave a visual workout to anyone who cared to look. His shoulders were solid globes of muscle. He noticed me checking them out.
"I pitch." Brian illustrated with an abbreviated throw. "You like baseball?" he asked.
"Especially for the guys who play it, Brian." I told the truth.
"That's what your buddy Kent tells me," Brian said as he ran me up and down with his eyes. "Nice catch, dude," Brain said as he turned towards Kent, who responded only with a smile.
Jim ushered me on to the football jocks. I'd guessed it right. Deke, Tony, and Brad wasted no time in telling me their interests on the field and off. Deke, the one who had engaged me earlier, had plenty to say. He was decent looking, but even if his math was right I doubt the twenty-eight guys he claims to have fucked submitted to his looks alone. Only the novelty of being in bed with that much beef might explain it. I admit that I was aroused enough with the scene to consider the fantasy.
Tony and Brad were quite a pair. Both were broad shouldered and solid, with dark hair and goatees.
"Hard to tell us apart, isn't it?" One of them asked the obvious. They were very close indeed. Brad was a little fuller in the face, and either stood more upright or was a touch taller. Tony's one-size too small shirt stole my gaze over and over again, making it hard to focus on small differences between them. This was certainly the candy store.
Aaron couldn't have been more different than the football trio. I'd have guessed he was a cyclist or track and field guy. He bordered on scrawny, not quite my height and not nearly as solid as his neighbors. He struck me as the type of guy who can eat like a horse, sleep a few hours, and take off like a rocket all day. He was also polite, and that stood out in this crowd. He was no more out of place than I was, I imagine. What struck me is that he came off with a confidence and security that was not rooted in being bigger and rougher than the next guy. He didn't need that, which in itself drew me to like him instantly. We made some small talk and promised to talk more later. I'd be sure of it.
Two more guys rounded out the crowd. They were Jim's swimming teammates. Both were blond in some degree, smooth and cute as could be. We'd just started talking. They were Ryan and Doug. Ryan liked to do most of the talking, which kept me busy. Meanwhile, I noticed Ryan checking out my ass a couple of times. I thought about visually busting him at it, but decided to let him have his fun instead. I knew what he was about.
The conversation in the room had become loud, thick with the hearty and deep chuckles that these guys must practice in off hours. Marcus walked into the center of the room and demanded everyone's attention. We were here to play a game of sorts. Everyone knew what was next, but that didn't seem to matter. Marcus explained the rules again, in careful detail. For the first time, everyone else was completely silent. They listened to Marcus and occasionally smiled, but nobody said a word. He basked in the attention, and was clearly used to it.
"You'll strip naked and get on your knees in front of all of us," Marcus said to me. He was five feet in front of me, facing me head on. It was the perfect perspective to appreciate his breadth, the solid bulk of his frame. "Got it?"
"Yes, I got it." It was all I could manage to say. My pulse was racing. I felt a little flushed. After all, here I was hearing again how I'd provide a little entertainment for the whole party, and a lot of entertainment for one particularly lucky jock. Everyone else still kept quiet.
"I'll blindfold you and you'll hold this in both hands behind you," Marcus continued. He waved a banana around for all to see. "Then I'll select someone for you to serve."
Serve. That was the word that did it. I felt my face get warm as my nervousness crossed over into embarrassment. A few of the guys vocalized their approval. This experience was not going to be like doing it with Kent or Mike. I was a bottom to both of them, but not in the least by my choice. Ultimately, I picked them. Not tonight.
I scanned around the group. Some were looking at Marcus, waiting for him to continue. A few were looking right at me. I caught Brian's eyes, and he smiled. He looked down my torso, checked out my crotch with a solid, deliberate stare, and followed back up. Having him size me up felt a little like being cruised, but since we all knew what was happening next there was less drama to it. Less drama, but more of an erotic rush. In a few minutes, one of the guys before me would be using my mouth while his buddies watched.
"Tell me you're willing to give any one of the guys here a blow job. I want to hear you say it," Marcus said and paused for me to respond.
The room fell silent again, and I felt the pressure of twenty-two eyes looking right at me. I decided to go for it. At this point, why not?
"Yes, Marcus, I've checked out every one of your friends here and I would happily suck any one of them," I said. That should do it. And it was the truth.
The guys were delighted with the answer, responding with "yeahs" and hoots. After they settled down, Marcus continued.
"Once the lucky boy is satisfied, we will take your blindfold off and let you free. You will have an hour to figure out who it was that you had fucking your mouth. You can ask any questions, and they can tell any lies. Everything is fair, and nobody leaves the room." Marcus folded his arms and leaned back slightly to wrap up the rules of his little game. Again, the room was quiet.
"If you are correct, if you figure out who it was, he has to return you the favor of a blow job immediately. On top of that, you get to pick anyone else here for the same guy to blow." Marcus said and waited as if he wanted me to ask for the alternative. He lowered his voice to continue. "If you accuse the wrong guy, however, you owe him an apology." He sounded like a grade school principal.
As if rehearsed, everyone groaned. They'd heard this at least once before. Marcus cleared his throat and finished up. "Then he gets to fuck you any way he likes." The way he said "fuck" made my asshole flinch. There was a grinding nastiness to it, descriptive of how the act would transpire.
I ran through a quick scenario. I saw a belt fly open and a button come undone. A deep voice said "Grab your ankles, boy. You're getting fucked." The others cheered. There was no romance in this scene. Instead only a victory fuck, enjoyed in front of the other players. I imagined myself bent over, grasping my own legs and watching him approach. His penis bobbed in front of him as he swaggered over to claim his prize.
I came back to the present. A quick scan of the room assured me that any of the guys would gladly step into my imagination and finish the scene. I looked again at Deke, the obnoxious wall of beef. It was him that I imagined walking up to take me. I'd be number 29 for him, another guy whose back door would be stretched open around his shaft. I'd be another guy he could point out to his friends, while Tony and Brad backed up his claims. I'd smile back at him and flash a thumbs-up. Yeah, I could do this.
The thought of intentionally throwing the guess, picking someone I didn't suspect but could relish having up my ass came to the front of my mind. I was busy surveying who else I would want to fuck me when again I felt the pressure of eyes.
Marcus was all smiles. "I said, do you agree that if you guess wrong you will submit and take it up the ass?" Marcus wasn't ready for an answer. He had more to say. "You'll be sodomized in front of this group, until your new friend is personally satisfied - or the sun comes up." Almost everyone laughed at the last part. I caught the eye of the Aaron, who was not laughing. He quickly looked down, and I noticed a few of the other guys looking at him. I would have to talk to him later. That must have been some party.
"Yes, Marcus, if I guess wrong I'll take it like a man," I offered. Marcus frowned until I restated it. There was enough silence to think. After a quick recollection of Marcus' earlier instructions, I composed a new response. "If I miss my guess, I'll take a good and deep ass fucking." Marcus smiled, so I threw in something more. "And you get to watch."
"That's how I like to hear it!" Marcus said with delight. "Now strip and get on your knees right where you are." With that, Marcus turned on the TV and hit the play button on the VCR.
"Oh, not this again!" Jim said. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kent shrug. As the volume came up louder and louder, I heard the slurping noises of my lips against Kent's organ. I didn't need to look, and instead concentrated on the buttons of my polo shirt. By the time I had that off, the tenor of the crowd had changed. They were all seeing me get fucked by Kent. No matter if I ended the night with a lucky guess and some head, all these guys knew nearly first hand that I'd already given it up.
That was hot. I dropped my pants to my ankles and turned towards harsh light of the television. There was no stopping the rush of blood to my organ. My semi let everyone know I was ready to play their game. I raised my eyes to the screen and saw myself getting it in the locker room. Kent was near the television, looking particularly pleased with himself.
I looked down again. It was as hard as it could be. As I lifted my gaze, a blindfold turned off the lights. Marcus stuffed the banana into one hand and brought both my arms behind me.
"Looks like we're ready to play," Marcus said quietly into my ear. "Just don't drop the banana. It's gang-bang city if you try to cheat."
I tried not to smile, but it didn't work.
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