It all started when Little Stevie Holden showed up at a Halloween party in a toga. And nothing else. Sure, he was wearing sandals but they don't count when everybody can see everything else.
When he walked into the place, nobody saw his shaggy brown curls, his cute round face, or his adorable attempt to grow a beard for his Zeus costume. Nobody saw the short blue sheet, open on both sides and tied with a gold rope. No, when Little Stevie walked in, all everybody saw was, well, Little Stevie. All of him, because he wasn't wearing underwear beneath his toga.
Little Stevie stood five feet, two inches. Football spread out his chest and bulked up his arms. Basketball made sure his legs and abs filled out. Swimming kept him lean and toned. Stevie was a compact stack of muscle and thick black hair. Except for his upper shoulders, the middle of his back, and both sides, he was covered in the stuff.
I was there the night Little Stevie strutted into that Halloween party. I was sitting on the counter in the kitchen and I could see the reaction his hot little body got from everybody. And I do mean, EVERYbody. Girls were checking him out. Gay dudes were checking him out. He ate it up, flexing and posing for them. The thing that surprised me, though? Our school's mascot, Phillip Robertson, spit out his beer when Little Stevie came in.
Phillip was lean, almost wiry, and had a sweet smile. He was personable and polite, one of the nicest guys you could ever meet. By all accounts and the string of girlfriends he'd had since sixth grade, Phillip was also very, very straight.
A comment Little Stevie made, posing in his Zeus costume, his curly black hair spilling down over his shoulders, started this whole thing. See, one of the girls came up to him and asked to touch his muscles -- his chest muscles, in particular. A gay dude in a Thor costume asked the same thing. Stevie flashed them a crooked smile, flexed one arm, and said, "What's it worth to you?"
"A cold beer," the Thor-wanna-be said with a smile. "And five dollars."
"Tempting," Little Stevie replied. "How about you, Wonder Woman?"
The girl in the movie-version costume said, "I have six dollars."
From behind him, another guy said, "I'll give you ten to feel you up!"
"I'll double it if you bare your chest!"
"Fuck that, I'll give you a hundred dollars if you strip down to just your sandals!"
This last offer got Little Stevie's attention. So much so, he pushed the shoulder part of the toga off, baring his chest and causing the thing to sag at the waist. His sharp V was visible and so was a thick tuft of what everybody knew was pubic hair.
I jumped off the counter and sprinted into the living room. "Hold up, hold up!" I raised my hand and did a quick turn around Little Stevie. "Anybody putting up money for the goods needs to show they have it!"
From under the guy's Spartan 300 skirt, the guy in question produced a wadded up one-hundred dollar bill. He smiled as he straightened it out. He waved it around, I'm guessing, to air it out. Only one place he could have been keeping that thing in his costume. I smiled and turned to Little Stevie.
"If you strip down, you can still keep your lightning bolt covered," I told him with a wink.
"Screw that!" Another guy said, coming forward. "I got one-fifty if he strips down...and lets me take off the costume!"
A guy in a Batman cowl, cape, and black briefs came forward. "I'll give you two hundred dollars if you let me take off the costume, run my hands over your sweet pecs and abs, then have you sit on my lap for a full hour so I can keep doing it."
Some of the girls giggled but the gay dudes in the room knew, this shit just got real. We went from playful fun to a semi-sexual sitch and they all knew it.
Spartan produced another two hundred and came around the couch. "Maybe you let me strip you down and you do a very sexy dance for all of us, instead."
Little Stevie took the gold rope holding his costume up and offered it to the Spartan. Behind him, Batman whipped out the same cash plus twenty bucks. "Get naked...and let me suck your dick."
The music stopped.
"You serious?" Little Stevie asked with a smirk. "I get two hundred twenty bucks -- and a blowjob?"
"I'll even swallow."
"I got two fifty," Spartan said. "And some change in my car."
Batman unfolded another hundred from a pocket in his cape. "Three large. And you can face-fuck the hell out of me." He smiled. "In front of everybody."
Striding out of the kitchen, dressed in a piece of green ivy, a green jockstrap, and a pair of green sandals, one of the prettiest ginger men you'll ever see in your fucking life waved five one-hundred dollar bills at Little Stevie. Several of the party guests moved out of his way as he sauntered up to the guy.
"No phones, no pictures," Male Poison Ivy said, waving the money. "I'll give you five hundred dollars, a cold beer, blowjob, and the tightest ass in this house."
He turned around to show off a pale, tight-cheeked peach of an ass that every gay dude in the house would want to fondle and almost all would want to fuck. When he turned back, Little Stevie was already pulling on the gold rope. Batman and Spartan knew they'd been beat. Needless to say, the whole party moved into the kitchen. Me and some other guys collected all the phones into a basket and put them in a cabinet under the island.
"I'm Chet," Poison Ivy said. "If you're going to put your dick in my mouth and let you fuck me, it's best we know each other, am I right?" When the other guy nodded, Chet took hold of the gold rope. "Guess this honor is mine, too."
In a moment right out of a porn flick, Little Stevie's toga fell to the floor and everybody fucking gasped. Looking at this dark-skinned, hairy god naked, except for the sandals, was a sight to see! I noticed Phillip toward the back of the room. The fucker got a stool to stand on so he wouldn't miss anything. While he was doing this, while everybody was gawking, I took Chet's money.
Watching him get to his knees was pretty hot. Erotic, even. Chet rubbed each of Stevie's legs, running his hands all over the hard muscle and thick hair. It did the right thing and soon, Big Stevie rose to the occasion.
Everybody oo-ed and ah-ed at this.
Chet didn't waste any time. He put his mouth on the hooded head and sucked the skin. His tongue moved in around it, licking at the head and tasting what had to be some sweaty goodness. As he was taking the first few inches, Batman stepped out from the crowd and shoved his money into my hand. He got in behind Little Stevie and started licking -- from his ankles up. Spartan did the same thing, shoving his money at me, then straddling Batman to start rubbing on Stevie's back and sides.
To his credit, Little Stevie welcomed the attention. Between you and me, though? I think he welcomed the money more than anything else. He was just given almost a grand for three college dudes to worship every inch of his body.
Batman and the Spartan were hungry fucks! They mouthed, licked, and sucked every inch they could. Batman spread Stevie's cheeks and Spartan dove in. By this time, Chet had Big Stevie oozing pre-cum like a faucet had opened. Chet moved off the thick head and pulled on the foreskin. This sent Little Stevie into a mini-frenzy and a pool of pre-cum appeared on the floor. Spartan fell in it and started licking it up.
I shot Phillip a look. He was mesmerized by what was going on. His mouth was hanging open as he watched Chet mouthing that uncut dick.
The gathered crowd gave the four of them plenty of room but Chet was not going to be fucked on the floor. No, sir! He got up on the island and spread both legs. Some girl handed Little Stevie a glass bottle of expensive olive oil and Spartan got down on his hands and knees. Little Stevie greased his dick, then got up on HIS hands and knees -- on Spartan's back. This put at the perfect height for two things to happen. One, he slid into Chet's ass like it was nothing. Two, it let Batman have complete access to the furry peach that was Stevie's ass.
Phillip's mouth watered the whole time.
It's pretty important to tell you, Phillip had dressed as a movie geek. Tight shirt, high-waisted pants, suspenders, pocket-protector, the whole nine. It was a cute look but he wore khakis, not jeans. Anybody looking in his general direction could see the wet spot on his crotch. When Stevie slid into Chet and started fucking, the spot got even bigger.
In his position, Spartan could get to Batman's bat-pole and he gave it one hell of a cleaning. His Hoover-mouth polished every inch and kept going long after Batman gave up eating out Stevie's hole. While they went at one another, Chet was getting his ass royally fucked.
Little Stevie was slow and methodical but his wrist-thick dick went in head-to-balls every time. He stretched out that ass like he was trying to make taffy out of it. Chet grabbed at him, hoping to take hold of his chest or his arms but Stevie had braced himself on the counter in such a way as to get the deepest penetration. This made his slick, hairy body hard to hold.
"Goddamn," Chet groaned, his head rolling from side to side. "Fuck me, you fucking animal!"
Grinning, Little Stevie brought his whole body up onto the island. Settling on his knees, he brought Chet's legs up and over his shoulders. Using one hand to hold the guy down, he used the other to hold Chet's mouth shut.
Then, he started fucking for real.
"Shit," one of the guys said, shaking his head.
"He's...a monster," one of the girls said, amazed.
"He's fucking perfect," Phillip muttered from the door -- but only I heard it. "Perfect."
In a short amount of time, Chet was fucked so hard that his shoulders were pushed to the edge of the island, his head hung off the side. His legs gripped at Stevie's body, his heels dug into his back. When his mouth was uncovered, all he could do was scream. Batman poured extra oil on Stevie's dick while Spartan took some for himself. Taller than Batman, it was easy enough for him to slip his own bat-pole into the guy's ass.
"Slower! Fuck...oh, FUCK...slow down! FUCK!" Chet shouted.
Little Stevie didn't listen. He kept going, giving Chet his money's worth. He fucked harder, driving Chet into the arms of someone dressed like a sexy clown. This new addition to the fucking just grinned down at the hard plowing Chet was getting and how Big Stevie just kept getting thicker and thicker.
"Gotta do it," Little Stevie said. "Cumming..."
He pressed hard on Chet's stomach as he buried himself in the boy's ass. Girls gasped. Guys laughed. Almost everybody cheered as cum began pouring out of Chet's well-fucked ass. Batman and Spartan were lost in the crowd as everybody fist-pumped and roared out their approval. Stevie just kept going. And going. And fucking going!
Chet was begging him to stop by the end of it. I was laughing because I knew Chet didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. By the looks of him, Phillip wanted to know.
"Jesus," Chet gasped. Sexy Clown kept holding him under the arms. "My ass is pulverized!"
Little Stevie grinned. "Got your money's worth, though, didn't you?"
"Oh, fuck, yeah!"
When Stevie backed off him, Chet revealed to everyone that he'd flooded his jock. Cum ran down his stomach, down his thighs and legs, and plastered the green material to his body. He sat up on the island and still more cum ran out of his ass.
"I am NOT cleaning that up," Wonder Woman said, exiting the kitchen. "You're on your own with that shit, big brother!"
Laughter erupted as some people started following her out of the room. Music started up again and almost everybody went back to the living room. People who stayed, just to watch Stevie, refilled their drinks and milled around with each other. I watched Phillip get down off his chair and disappear out the front door. I knew why and I would handle it later.
Through the course of the night, Little Stevie picked up another easy fifty bucks from people wanting to pinch a nipple, touch a pec, kiss an ab, and even fondle his dick. That last bit got him another twenty. He walked out of that party with almost a grand in his pocket. Well, MY pocket, but you get the gist. Not bad for coming to a get-together in just a sheet and sandals, right?
- Part 1 -- End *