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This is a work of pure fiction intended for adult readers of legal adult age, at least 18 years-old and older if your jurisdiction requires you to be 21 or more. Anyone younger should leave now. My stories involve sex in various forms between consenting persons and should not be construed as a guideline for living anyone's everyday life.
WHY DON'T WE DO IT IN THE RAIN? Part 3
By
Greylock Writer
My third incident of rain bliss -- the one that probably prompted my journey on this wet fetish involving others -- occurred when I was just shy of 21 and living in Boston while struggling to finish college. The distractions were many as my physics classes got harder and so did my dick as I stepped firmly into the world of guarded gay activism. Only in my case, the activity meant actively looking for all the sex I could find.
One early fall Friday, I'd been to a coffeehouse on Charles Street for good folk music and better coffee that left me cranked up and ready for anything. It was definitely a 60's sort of scene. Scruffy, a bit unwashed and wholly unpredictable. I loved the adventure, ready for it all.
Although it neared midnight and the sky looked a little threatening, I thought I could walk the mile-and-a-half back to my rooms by strolling along The Esplanade, the extensive park that snakes along the Charles River. It was cruisy as hell, especially as the night got deeper and darker. There usually were a lot of men like me who were too young for bars or too concerned about being discovered and outed in more public places. There were many shadowy tableaux with the moans and sounds of not-so discreet sex around park benches or clumps of bushes. But with the weather turning sullen, I entertained no thoughts of sudden lusty fun.
Just as I crossed into the park by the Hatch Memorial Band Shell where The Boston Pops played summer concerts, the clouds burst and it started pummeling rain down on me. I quickly shot into the limited safety of the band shell lip and shook like a dog to shed the drenching I'd received. Most of the band shell was closed off but this outside edge offered about six to eight feet of protection from the driving rain with just a bit of spray.
Soon a shadow came striding through the downpour and a bearded man in his early thirties emerged into the welcome shelter of the band shell near me. He was handsome, neatly, casually dressed in Levi's and looked a lot like a TA or prof from one of the many colleges in the Boston vicinity. Perhaps we'd even sucked each other off sometime in the past.
I made out a hint of a smile as he edged closer. His right hand dipped to his crotch and ran along a considerable bulge that already neared full hardness. He looked into my eyes with a laser focus.
Desire rose in me, but entrapment by sneaky cops still was common then so I just stared at him and did nothing. Stonewall hadn't happened yet and no one wanted to be exposed. The Prof moved to within a foot. My heart pounded at a runaway pace, but I still watched without acting. The rain was sparkling on his face and he wiped a bit of it away. Damn, he looked good!
"Wicked night," he said. "Unexpected."
"Yeah, a surprise," I agreed. "Weird that it's so warm, too, tonight."
"Out pretty late." Was he chiding me?
I laughed. "Not for a Friday night. And I sleep way less than most folks."
"Even students?" Prof asked.
"Some sleep a whole lot. Excessively. I'm not in that group."
"What group are you in?" he queried. His hand rubbed his prominent bulge harder now.
"Adventurous. But careful," I replied. "Very careful."
"Oh," he chuckled with that small smile again. "Understood." With that, he unbuttoned the fly of his 501's and fished out what was either his bait or an offering of our kinship in desire.
"Wanna play a little 'til it lets up?" He was stroking his thick dick with a slow, easy hand. It was damn tempting.
Finally he said firmly, maybe a bit pissed at me. "I'm not a cop, kid!"
"Really," I said half as a statement and half as a question.
The Prof reached for my belt and unlatched my buckle. He bent toward me and swiped his lips across mine. The button on my trousers were popped open. His lips were on mine harder and deeper. His tongue pried my mouth open and started to explore inside.
I was more than a bit stunned. I'd had some casual sex here or over in The Fens closer to my digs, but kissing usually was not part of the bargain. It was more wham, bam, spurt and scram. Mostly BJs, but sometimes I got or gave a desperate, hard, fuck. Quick, anonymous, detached and untraceable.
Now my hardon was out standing as pearls of precum slimed out of my cum chute. The wind shifted and a heavier spray of rain blasted us making my dick jump and get even harder.
When the Prof pulled his mouth off mine he moved to my pits licking the rain, my day's sweat and any stink I had with lavish tongue laps. I could hear him huffing in my scent though I suspected the rain had tamed it quite a bit. His beard was a scratchy pleasure as he scoured my underarm mats. Cool. Satisfied he'd tidied me up for now, his talented tongue slid down my pecs and abs to my excited shaft. He started by licking around the base of my dick, then right up the seam of my thick six-and-a-half inches to my velvety cap.
I was damned relieved that he was no cop and I was ready to let myself go. But the Prof was taking it slow and easy, running his tongue up and down my shaft, carefully licking my veins and the rim of my cut cock head. This was no amateur. He could teach a class in giving head and I might be first on the list to sign up.
His damp hands slightly massaged my ass cheeks as he pulled my dick down his throat and back. An exquisite, slow tension rose in my groin and in my whole body. I wasn't close to shooting but I wasn't far. This was a bit like a dream, a pretty wet one in the rain. I was beginning to think I'd let him take my ass. I'd only let that happen a couple times. But tonight seemed special.
Then, in a flash, a small figure, maybe five-feet four or five, scampered up near us and commanded "Dibs!" in a low, firm voice. Startled, we stopped to look at him.
"I said dibs, damn it. Don't let him climax in your greedy throat," the newcomer ordered the Prof sounding more like a boot camp drill sergeant than an orgy partner. "This is just too damn good to miss."
With that, Sarge instantly shed his clothes and joined us completely naked. I almost laughed but didn't dare, not knowing how he'd react. Then I noticed his big dong. That might really be worth waiting for. Damn! Decisions, decisions!
But his mouth latched onto my crotch swallowing my dick as he steered the Prof's cock into his mouth, too. If the Prof sucked like an expert our little Sarge went one better to master. Then there was a flash of lightning and I saw by his smooth, beardless face that he might be as young as 15 years-old. Fuck, I thought, what have we gotten into?
But it was too late as the young Sarge kept sucking us both, making our shafts slip and slide together while his tongue played us and teased us. The wet friction kept us at an easy, steady edge. This was my first experience being sucked by someone with another dude's dick sliding alongside mine at the same time.
I turned to the Prof and lip locked him with a pleasant urgency. We felt like old friends by now kissing earnestly as our new stranger gave a warm pleasure to our tools. Our tongue thrusts grew deeper as our cocks got harder deep in Sarge's hot mouth.
"Keep it up kid," the Prof encouraged. "Your mouth is doing all we could ask. Suck and chew as hard as you want."
As Sarge turned up the suction, he was rolling our balls in his fingers, teasing with little pinches that brought Prof and me closer to orgasm. Then Sarge's well-stretched mouth let our cocks slip out as he bathed our sacs in saliva and teased us with tiny, tingly nips. My God, this kid loved giving oral in the best and worst ways possible!
He jerked our cocks slowly as his tongue washed our balls with lusty pleasure.
"Who's first?" he asked. "Who's got tasty cum?"
The Prof and I looked at each other.
"Well," I offered as I kneeled. "Don't know how tasty it is, but I can cum again in five minutes."
"OK, you to start then," Sarge said. "More spunk to share." And he bent to take me back into his mouth down to the root. I motioned the Prof to stand and took his firm dick into my mouth. Sarge slowly stroked his own hardon. We were in no hurry and our pleasure rose slowly lick by lick and suck by suck.
Once again we built up to a tense plateau. "Let's try to keep this going," the Prof urged. "I'm not ready to go over the edge."
Sarge came up for air. "I can do this forever," he told us. "And I've got no fucking where to go." His tongue returned to my cockhead and slurped on my piss slit. He had a calm vigor and I grooved on the pleasant sensation of his wonderful mouth and the spitting of the rain.
Could it last? Fuck, no! I swore Lurch from The Addams Family had suddenly joined us on the shell's ever more crowded lip. But this guy was even bigger at least six-foot seven or eight. Had he escaped from a Boston Celtics practice a mile away at The Garden?
"Big Ben!" our Sarge bolted up. "Thought you'd show up sure as shit!"
"I thought, not tonight," Ben said. "But my telescope swept the shell area a few minutes ago. And, damn, your party already was underway." He said this as he peeled away his clothes and loomed over us. Another one completely naked!
So, now we had a chummy quartet! "Is this it? Are we gonna play bridge or fuck?" I muttered, tired of the interruptions.
"Say, what, college boy?" Sarge demanded.
"Oh, nothing," I shrugged. "If we had waterproof cards we'd now have a fourth for bridge."
"Don't be such a smart ass," Sarge chided. "Turns out Big Ben here IS a champion bridge player. But he loves sex even more, right Ben?"
Ben nodded vigorously. "But my dick is tiny," he admitted, "And so are my balls. So, some folks shy away."
"Yet," Sarge interrupted, "Lordy, Lordy, when he spooges his spunk might drown you."
Ben looked shy. "He's selfless and he'll play with anyone and everyone to get 'em off," Sarge added. He spit out into the rain. "He lives just over there with his boyfriend and watches this area with a telescope to make sure nothing bad is goin' on."
"So, sort of a guardian of gay raunch," the Prof said.
"Yup," Ben said. "Me and Archie both are! We all know how hard it is to live as we do." Then quietly he added, "Sorry I missed your party, kid." He patted Sarge on the back. "Least you're legal now in the bars! Burn those fake ID's 'cause a new tiger's goin' out to prowl."
Whew, I let out a sigh. So Sarge ISN'T a 15 year-old! That made me almost giddy and very ready to rev up our party. Again. Fuck, I was getting frustrated with all these interruptions.
"So, let's get down and get those dicks up. Stroke 'em or smoke 'em!" I said and the game was on. Again.
Choosing options, I decided to take on the challenge of Big Ben and his copious cum spew. I started by just running my hands all over his body, touching, tweaking, and sensitizing the ample erogenous zones of the gentle giant. When I got down to his sex, I just took the whole damn shebang into my mouth. His flaccid dick and hairless balls were a manageable, but full, mouthful. Lumped together they looked like a cartoon character. But, once swallowed, they rolled around like a favorite food one wanted to savor before devouring. They were a bit nutty and salty tasting, almost like a raw oyster liqueur. Yum!
Then Ben produced some fancy lubricant I'd never seen and coated my cock so it moved with shuddering delight. He used his hands as a total, sensual sheath. He cupped my shaft and rubbed me into a tingly mess. I'd never felt such soft hands. Man, they were sensational!
The Prof and Sarge were on the stone floor in an energetic sixty-nine sliding around with great skill. They were still enjoying the moderate rain lubricating our rising reverie. "Suck me harder,kid," the Prof moaned. "We've had too damn many false starts. Let's spunk, boy. Let your cum out while you suck me hard. That's it. Make your mouth a goddamn fucking weapon!"
Then they were writhing in simultaneous orgasms. "Oh, man that was good!" Sarge exclaimed. He and the Prof stretched out in a long, hard embrace, just holding each other quietly.
As I hovered over Ben I could feel that while he wasn't hard, his dick had stiffened a lot. "Can you nut?" I asked as I came up for breath.
"Oh, yeah. Always. Close now," he said, spitting the words out. "I'm gonna just shake and jizz. Never know quite when."
And as I resumed, he chanted, "Yeah, man. Yeah. Oh, yeah. Keep sucking, keep it up......fuck!" And the blasts of his salty goo began. The cum had force, velocity and volume. It poured down my throat and leaked out of my mouth so I couldn't scoop it all back in. It tasted a lot like thick celery soup with a strong cream base. I've never tasted spunk again that was so unusual or delicious. What the hell had he been eating?
"You're taking it! You're incredible," Ben told me with awe. And then I saw he was younger than I'd imagined. Maybe just 35 or so. I didn't have any daddy issues, pro or con. So it didn't matter to me. But suddenly I felt very close to him, almost protective.
I hadn't come yet. "Will you stand over me and shoot it in my face?" Ben asked me. He looked around. "And if anyone else can spooge again. Stand and shower me in your cum, too."
With that, another figure appeared in the rain. With his peaked cap and a distinctive navy cape, I could tell a Boston cop had arrived. His badge glinted in the street lights and I should have felt the danger.
But I was too far gone. Way too far. I was going to spunk on Ben just as he asked. Couldn't help it. "Damn close, Ben," I grunted. "I'm going over. I'm cumming, man, cumming hard." And my jizz hit his forehead, his lips, along his neck and down to his nips. The rain diluted my load and made little rivers of slimy cum on his upper body.
To my shock, the cop tossed his cap and ripped off his cape. His blue trousers dropped to the ground and a huge, hard cock took aim at Ben.
"Hit me, Archie," Ben urged him. "Blast me with that thick copper's juice. You know I love it rain or shine."
"Need help?" Sarge asked, as he kneeled behind Archie and started deep rimming of his ample ass. His tongue wormed into Archie's hole with audible, slushy slurps. "Man, you are still a tasty fucking treat, man!"
"Thanks, Rico. That's real nice," our cop told him. "It's been a tough shift."
"You want it now?" Archie asked Ben.
"Yes. Please, baby!" Ben replied. Then he looked at the Prof and me. "Don't stand there like some piss-elegant statues. Join in. Either give me some of your cum or a golden shower."
I didn't quite understand. I still had a lack of queer social skills and my gay lingo savvy was non-existent. The general slang had yet to penetrate my pea brain.
"He wants us to piss on him," the Prof explained. "It's not at all uncommon."
"Really?" I squeaked.
"Damn straight," Ben commanded. "All four of you haul those dicks over here. I want some hot cum or steamy pee. Your choice."
We agreed and soon four piss streams swept his body in a variety of golden hues. Our liquid gold dropped on Ben in spurts and crosses and circles of urine.
I learned that urine was mostly sterile and some folks really dig the hot streams on their bodies, in their faces and down their throats. Whatever.
Only Archie was brave enough to stick his pissing dick down Ben's welcoming throat. Ben slurped it all in.
"Any more, Archie?" Ben asked.
"Sorry baby, I'd already hit the head before I saw your note to come on out here."
"It's OK, hon, there's been a good time had by all, I think." With that Ben opened his mouth for a rain chaser. And I noticed Sarge, er, Rico was scampering around Ben's huge frame licking up our mixture of spunk, piss and rain. He was one happy pig. With a few more encounters, I learned that felching -- sucking cum out of spunked asse -- was his particular specialty. Another boundary I'd yet to encounter or cross.
I must have looked on a bit stunned. The Prof smiled at me and whispered, "There's a scene for everyone. And for every occasion. Every encounter is a discovery of yourself. And the journey takes our whole life."
"Guess I have a lot to learn," I whispered back.
"Don't we all?" he replied. "The key is mutual agreement. Make sure everyone consents."
"Got it," I told him.
The rain had settled down to a heavy fog blanketing our area in the still warm night.
We started sorting sopped clothes, squeezing out some water and putting them on for our walks home. Except for Rico who tucked his things under his arm and was ready to traverse The Esplanade naked and happy. With the deepening fog he seemed pretty safe walking the park nude. Or, maybe, he wasnt' readyto call it a night.
"Everyone, listen up," Ben said. "How's next Friday? A reunion? Same time?"
There was a pause, then mutters of, "Sure. OK. You know it."
I was silent. Finally, I said, "Well, why the fuck not?"
Archie added, "Bring a friend or two if you want. I'll be patrolling the park again. On time. And you know my boyfriend, Ben here, will be out here on his safety prowl, too."
We all nodded anticipatory assents. Now, I thought, if we can only find a weatherman who can guarantee us a downpour, I KNOW I'll show up for another wet and wild adventure. Into every life, a little rain must fall. After all, aren't humans all mostly water?
Copyright 2021 by Greylock Writer