The following story is a work of fiction set in the format of reality. Any resemblance to real people is entirely coincidental in nature, and is not meant to accurately reflect persons in towns, cities, or governmental areas, in which the story is staged. If sexual scenes involving male to male relationships offends you, then you should not read this story. Additionally, if you are under 18 years of age, in most states and countries, you are not allowed to read this by law. This is fiction. Don't forget, in real life, to think about 'sexual safety matters'; got condom?
"Writer's Block" 13 written By Bradford Dean Bigelow
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As it wound up, Jim and Adam invited Paco and Jeff, to ride with them, to Mike's seashore villa. So Jeff ran the directions, in Bobby's handwriting, through his fax machine. Frank figured we could all fit in his SUV. That was fine, except for Kareem's long legs. The six foot five giant didn't mind lying on his back, in the cargo area, feet shifted to the right, as his legs sat up over the seat. Being that his size thirteens had met right beside my head, I asked him to take off his sneakers. After that, his socks. That added little improvement to the scent of his feet, but my crotch proved that the odor wasn't totally repulsive. Matter of factly, when I thought no one was looking, I licked Kareem's hairy legs, immediately swinging my head around, to catch his smile. It was our secret thing. Around the fourth lick, he pointed to his crotch. Licking his hairy legs turned both of us on!
"I think we're lost," Frank reported, as the SUV came to a slow roll.
"Must've taken a wrong turn someplace, Frank."
"No, dah, Bobby!"
As Tony, Chase and me, looked out the windshield, from the back seat, we could see the dead end ahead of us, in the not-so-far abuttment, a body of water in front of us. Kareem was snoring. However, his slumber became interrupted, a siren set off the alarm in his head. It grabbed all our attentions, as the apparent police cruiser pulled up behind the SUV, lights flashing.
"Oh my, my... what have we got here?" Kareem observed, watching the police officer file by the side of the vehicle.
All our eyes had been on the officer, as he strolled from the tail to Frank's unrolled window. None had been keener though, as Kareem's.
"Hey brutha! What's happenin'?" Kareem yelled through the SUV.
I know a couple of the guys wanted to kill him, but we kept our cool, as the African-American cop looked inside.
"Um, do you have a seatbelt on back there?" The police officer directed to Kareem, getting out the pad we all knew was used for writing a summons. "You know it's a law in this state that 'all' passengers wear a seat belt."
"Seat belt?" Kareem called out, "Why I ain't even in a seat!"
Under our breaths, some of us said, 'Shut up, Kareem!' Most likely Frank and Bobby thought it.
"Not in a seat. That's even worse."
"What tha f_ !"
Before we could even think, Kareem had my door open, his ass had knocked me over onto Chase-baby, whom wound up in Tony's lap and he was shimmying himself out of the sports vehicle.
From inside the vehicle we could here, "Hey, can I see ya for a minute, brutha?"
"Oh shit!" Bobby and Frank exclaimed, looking at each other, their hands on their car doors, ready to expell themselves.
Frank had no problem, in that the cop had followed Kareem's lead, advancing to the rear tailgate. Did Bobby and Frank think that we wanted to miss out on this? Funny thing is, that when we got to the back of the SUV, the police officer had replaced his pad back in his pocket. Kareem and the officer of the law lay up against the steering side of the patrol car, Kareem's arm hung over cop's shoulder, like buds, chatting as if they had met as long ago, as kids.
"It's okay, guys. We're cool. We're cool," Kareem signaled to us, waving and explaining. Next, we hear Kareem say, "What do you mean, you've never made it with a guy, Chad?"
My immediate response, which I'm sure the others had wondered, is how Kareem got this far in such short time.
"Just never did it, Kareem. Never had the nerve to... you know."
"Hey, I'm willing to show you the ropes, if you've got a little time, Chad."
"I don't know, Kareem. I've called it in already and..."
"Hey now, no need to get all nervous like, Chad. You can still give us a ticket, but I feel I should still make it up to you, for taking time out of your busy schedule, having to stop us and all."
Bobby said to us, "He's gonna fuckin' have us 'all' locked up!"
"I don't think so. Just wait to see how it all pans out, Bobby. Believe me, Kareem knows what he's doing," Frank said, his reaffirming hand on Bobby's itchy shoulder.
It's the first time I noticed Bobby being on the edge, of falling off the edge. It seemed like role reversal, Frank in Bobby's place, being the cool, calm and collective individual, fathering Bobby, whereas Frank could be billed as the one freaking out. However, I think we all had been on the same edgy side, waiting for Kareem's direction to pan out. It wouldn't be strange at all that two guys, knowing each other for a couple of days, could know each other like a book. This apparently is the flux found between Frank and Kareem. At least we all hoped so!
""Hey, Chad, you have a place where you and I can go and get intimate?"
"I don't know Kareem."
"How old are you, Chad?"
"Twenty-eight. Why? How old are you?"
"I'm nineteen, Chad, but the issue here is how long you going to deny yourself sex with a guy, when you can discover one of life's best pleasures?"
"I don't know. You're kind of young to have sex with, Kareem"
I had to laugh inside, as we all watched Bobby go back and sit in the car. Frank went back to the driver's side, for moral support.
"Age doesn't play a part in it, Chad. The guy behind the wheel?"
"Yeah?"
"His name's Frank. He's twenty-seven."
"You and him connected?"
"We're working towards becoming partners."
"You and he have sex?"
"Yeah. Real nice, too."
"With a white guy?"
"Don't matter what color we are, Chad. I've got myself a real nice man. But that's okay, Chad. I'm not going to pressure you."
"Why you want to have sex with me, then?"
"Call it karma... maybe I want to help a brutha out, that needs help. I don't know. You believe in stuff like meeting a guy and feeling for him, Chad, even if you don't know why?"
"I believe in God. I don't know all the answers. I guess stuff like this could happen, Kareem."
"Like I said, Chad. I'm not going to put pressure on you. That's not the way to have your first experience with a man, but if you want, I can leave you my number and call me if you want to talk."
"I'd appreciate that Kareem. Yeah, that would be cool."
"Here, let me borrow your pen."
Tony went back to his seat, seeing that there wasn't going to be any aciton. We knew it too, so after we saw Kareem writing down information for Chad, our butts found our way to our seats. One thing that Kareem did get through to Chad on, is the sight I pictured, turning around in my seat. Kareem held the police officer in his arms and their lips connected.
As Kareem found his way back into his seat and the police car rode on, after it's U-turn, Bobby turns around fully and asks, "I suppose you didn't bother to ask how we get our fuckin' asses back on the right road, Kareem?"
However, just as Frank impressed Bobby with his insight, Kareem made his own good impression, pointing us down different roads until we came out to the main drag.
"Where the hell have you all been?" Jim Worthington asked.
I can say the lot of us appeared more than stunned, as the completely nude fifty-one year old stood before us, he and Adam sipping on their Hawaiian drinks, adorned with little umbrellas. The drinks, that is!
Beyond Jim, though, the view was totally, inexplicably amazing. The whole back of the villa, decked out between the back wall and shorline, contained a swimming pool, jacuzzi, a volleyball net and yards of men!
"Oh fuck this is hot!" Frank called out.
Kareem was ready to respond, when his cellphone sounded.
We paid little attention, as he shouted out, "It's Chad, you guys!"
Good for Chad. Some guys, five of them, descended upon us. They looked different than the other partiers, donning only black bowties and these ultimately skimpy thongs that flaunted their bulging crotches.
"May I take your clothes, gentlemen?" Said one, as the others helped collect belongings.
"By all mean!" Frank was the first to react, stripping off his shirt.
Kareem had disappeared, but the rest of us followed suit, removing our shirts, sneakers, socks, pants, briefs and stuffing them all into one bag.
One guy informed us, "Remember the number 88, or you go home like that!"
As quickly as they appeared, they left. We all laughed.
"May I take your order for drinks?"
If the intent was on keeping a guy hard, the host must've hand picked the waiters. Two divine ones stood before us. One held a tray of champaygne flutes, ready for handouts, while the other Adonis stood with pad and pen.
"Hey, guess.......what.........guys?" Kareem stated, as his excitement dribbled down almost meaningless jabber, as his cellphone dropped to the sand.
The guy with bag no. 88 had returned. Only instead of having one man strip him down, they all descended on Kareem, like vultures. In no time flat, his brown skin and black hairy chest, trail, pubes and creased ass had been exposed to the sun.
"Champaygne sir?"
"My oh my, yes sir is right! And do I get you too?"
What a juggular! We all got shocked out of our gourds, as the waiter holding the tray of champaygne, held his tray aloft, while bending to his knees to sample Kareem's already hard shaft. Kareem's mouth shot open, as his head sagged backwards. His big hand went to the back of the waiter's head, pressing the orifice deeper onto his rod.
Bobby asked, "Aren't you going to do anything, Frank?"
"Why, Bobby? Don't find this entertaining?" Frank replied, stroking his 7.5c.
After a few minutes, I think we all wanted service like Kareem got.
"Um, what about Chad, Kareem?" Chase-baby asked.
It had been like asking a brick wall.
"Huh?"
"Chad. What about him?"
"Oh, Chase... hee heee.. how are ya?" Kareem finally looked down at my Chase-baby, a hand going to his shoulder.
Before Frank, Bobby and Tony had wandered too far, the same waiters had returned, toting their drinks. Ours arrived as well.
One of the waiters informed the one on his knees, still pleasuring Kareem, "Phil, Mike says your relieved of your waitering."
Phil looked up, popping off of Kareem's cock, replying, "Fine."
After a sigh of discomfort, with the release of the blow job, Kareem courteously said, "Hey, I'm not getting you into any trouble, am I?"
Removing his tie, Phil replied, "No, not at all. That's part of our duties as waiters. I'm your's for as long as you want. If you want, we can go inside and have intimate sex or carry on out here. Whatever is your pleasure, sir."
"Inside sounds nice, but I got a friend coming and..."
"No problem. When he shows he'll be directed to where we are and the three of us can get it on or I can request a man for him," Phil informed Kareem, now standing and stepping out of his thong.
I joked, saying, "Can you recommend guys for us, Phil? Hee heee.."
"Sure. All you have to do is pick out a waiter and he'll arrange it."
"Pick out a waiter?"
"Yes. Any waiter you pick out is your's for the evening. He'll arrange it with Mike."
Here, we hadn't even met Jordan's and Kevin's friend, Mike, and he was extending his hospitality through these humble waiters. However, when I looked upon my Chase-baby I knew where he stood and I wanted to be the same upfront.
"Um.. thanks, but no thanks," I replied to Phil.
He looked over at Chase-baby and said, "Lucky man you are, sir," to him.
"I know, but thanks for the test, Phil!"
"Wait! You had me set up again, Chase-baby?"
"No, but it worked out kind of nicely, in that direction, wouldn't you agree?"
"I guess."
"I'm proud of you Brad."
"You are?"
"Yep. You turned down Phil on your own. Shows something."
"Shows what?"
"You're a bigger blockhead than I thought you are, you know that Brad?"
"Huh? I am?"
"Shows that you love me, blockhead!"
"Oh! Yeah! I knew that!"
"Oooooh will you look at that!"
Chase-baby didn't have to tell me, but it was good that he said it. Straight ahead, on the beach before us stood about twenty guys. Most of them seemed from about 20yo to early thirties. They stood in formation, a single line. Of course, we knew why they had been there, as six men stood in front of them, two of them we knew. Withing the formation stood Tony.
"Oh can I? Can I?" I begged Chase-baby, like a little boy.
He laughed out loud and said, "Yeah, sure. It's a party. Go play, Brad!"
I kissed him, before running out on the beach, my cock and balls flopping, in flight.
"Wait for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" My heart and mind racing faster than my feet, announced.
At same time as falling in, next to Tony, I spotted Bobby leaning over to a beefy looking guy, typical sadistic type. I could guess what he was telling him. Apparently, as things progressed, this was the leader of the pack of dominant topguys. Swimmer's build, dark, hairy chest, trail, goatee, he made his approach right away to Tony and I. He had the meanest, nastiest look I've even seen. It made me gulp.
"This session started a half hour ago, bitch! I don't like fukin' latecomers. Guess I'll have to make an example of you you... take him!"
I looked to my left. Tony shrugged his shoulders, saying a muffled, "Good luck!"
Manhandled, one on each side of me, they paraded me about eight yards, behind where the formation stood. Down the beach, they hiked the other boys, single file, me as their leader. My cock was hard as coral, as they moved me in position below a square frame, hewned out of logs. With the release of chains, two leather cuffs descended from the top of the frame. They fastened my wrists to them. Then, as directed by the leader, Bobby and Frank did the honors of hauling my arms up and over my head.
The meanie responded with, "Yeah, gonna have fun working you over, boy!"
I could barely see behind me. If a guy stood to my left or right, I could see, but when the head guy stood directly behind me I was blinded.
"Far enough. Fasten his ankles to the leather cuffs," He barked out.
Frank and Bobby stopped hauling me up, reporting to my feet. Bobby looked up and grinned at me.
He said, "Having fun, Brad'ford'?"
Not waiting for a response, which I wasn't proclaiming anyway, he disappeared behind me.
"Forman, read the charge against this prisoner," the leader ordered.
'Prisoner'? Is this what this was? I wasn't at all nervous. Surely, Bobby and Frank would stop the action if it got too rough. Almost as if a code of ethics, the person reading off the charges thumbed through a small book.
He replied, "Oh, here it is... prisoner number... he doesn't have a number."
"No number?" the leader said gruffly. "Well find him one!"
Another of the dominant tops produced a marking pen. Walking up to me, he said, "He's so hairy. Where?"
"I don't give a damn. Mark it on his cock!"
Taking my cock in his hand, he gave it a few strokes before writing on my cockhead, the number 21.
"All set, sir. Twenty-one, Jack," He said to the guy with the book.
"Prisoner 21 is guilty of being late. Punishment is ten lashes across his back with a leather strap."
"Ten?" I questioned, "Isn't that a little steep for the first offense?"
"And ten more for insuboordination!" The gruff voice from behind appeared in front of me.
If the head honcho was in front of me, then whom was behind me, doing the punishment? My glance, produced two guys, one at my left and the other at my right. Bobby and Frank, no less.
"Let the punishment begin," the gruff one prescribed.
I looked foreward at the half circle of men, all facing me, their eyes peering at my face. If I could see all of them at once, I would be able to see each pair of eyes, looking into mine. When I saw Tony's he smiled. I knew it wasn't to see me suffer, but as a friend to friend gesture. I smiled back. It cost me, but I didn't care.
"This isn't for your pleasure boy!" His royal gruffness explained, altering the punishment, "Thirty lashes!"
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!" I screamed out, arching my back, as either Bobby's or Frank's arm weilding his leather strap against my upper back. "Ooooooooohshiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" I exclaimed.
At the same times, I heard twenty voices say out loud, "ONE!"
I wasn't expecting the force of the strap that landed across my back. After recovering from the shock of hearing the number of the first lash across my back, I voiced my opinion.
"Take is easy, huh?" I tried turning my head, telling my good friends, standing behind me, getting ready to pounce on me once more.
"Forty lashes," came the response for my additional insolence, from in front of me.
Some of the twenty, Tony I'm sure one of them, must've felt something for me, as gasps could be heard.
"Any more comments from the lot and I'll add it to this man's punishment!"
The mean bastard!
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"
"TWO!"
I wanted to turn my head around and tell Bobby and Frank to take it easy on me, but it didn't seem to have registered the first time. The way their strap landed from my shoulder, midway down and across my back, it was like they weren't playing around.
"Akkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk!"
"THREE!"
This went on for four lashes, until the head creep turned and pointed out one of the men.
"You! Number 11. Bring that boy here!"
Two muscle tops guided number 11, a guy maybe around 21 or 22yo, in my direction. He was kind of nice looking, blonde. Sort of the same build as my Chase-baby, hair on his pecs, a darker descent to his navel and then a nice bush surrounding his, like mine, full erection.
"Hands on his torso.... suck!"
Suck? This young blonde, the figment of my imagination, that resembled my Chase-baby was going to suck my cock? As his lips formed around my cock, my head sunk back, my eyes closing to the bright sunrays. My whole body sweated from the heat, plus the beating I was receiving, but now another flame was added. The heat of this hot blond's tongue, swirling around my hard shaft.
I made the mistake of complimenting him, "You're good!"
"Fifty lashes!"
'Yikes'! Well, maybe I'd chock it up to being kind to somebody. After all, weren't compliments good, where compliments had been deserved?
Somebody wasn't counting, because I know that when Bobby and Frank let me down, one, I hadn't received no where's near fifty lashes. I couldn't have possibly. Even though I wasn't in any shape to judge, collapsing in a heap on the sand, I knew that this body couldn't have possibly taken fifty lashes across my back. I mean, even though I heard the distinct calling out, by twenty male voices, the word, 'fifty', I couldn't have survived that number of lashes across my back with two leather straps hammering away on my flesh. Secondly, I hadn't shot my load in the blonde's mouth or elsewhere.
"Back in line!" He gruffed at me.
I could barely stand. Bobby and Frank set me in place, as number 21 on line, but I collapsed right there, to my knees.
"Bring the wimp along!"
It wasn't Bobby and Frank that manhandled me, dragging my feet through the sand, as we brought up the rear of the line of twenty males. They dragges me, at waist length, which brought my head flush with man number 20's ass. It looked very familiar. Next thing I knew, I was being layed out on a wooden surface. Right away I saw stars, as the rough surface scratched my sore back. My arms, stretched above my head and out to the corners, once again had leather bindings attached to them. On either side of what seemed like an oversized table, stood two giant wooden pillars. From each, a sagging rope was affixed to each ankle, via a leather cuff. Then hauled up, so that my ass lifted off the table.
"Surround the platform!"
I remember saying, "What's happening, Tony?" before the onslaught.
Twenty tongues descended, going at my body from all angles. I heard laughter. That was Bobby's laugh, I knew it. It came right before liquid was dumped over my chest. It smelled like beer, but my mind took it in as piss, for whatever bent reason. My taste buds attuned to the taste, as the liquid flooded my palate. I drank it down. So pleasurable was the taste that my mouth now told me, it was in fact beer, that I perceived it as more than that. With tongues now racing over my chest, teasing my nips mercilessly, licking over my hairy stomach, digging into my navel, lapping at my balls, one big mouth trying to deep throat my cock, underneath, my ass getting deep tongued, I suddenly revolted against the pleasures, lucky man number whatever, taking my load down into his belly.
"Earth to Bradford... Earth to Bradford..."
"Huh? Chase-baby?"
Like our wild night in bed, at home, with me bound to the headboard, I raised my wrists, saying, "Free again?"
"Yep."
"Chase-baby, I had the weirdest dream that...owwwwwwwch... ohhhh.ooohhh... oooh, that wasn't any dream!"
"No, Blockhead. You outdid yourself again and that big mouth of yours got you into trouble."
"That Bobby and Frank... they..."
"Now don't you go blaming them for your predicament, Brad."
"They could've at least taken it easy. They whipped me hard and fifty times!"
"Fifty times? My eye. You only got, at the most, twelve lashes, Brad."
"Twelve? What are you talking about, Chase-baby? They whipped me til I damned near passed out. I could hear the guys shouting out the word 'fifty'!"
"Hee heee.... how's our boy doing?"
"You bastard!" I yelled out.
It was the head honcho, the meanie, the big gruff!
"Have fun, Brad?"
"Bobby, you bastard and you Frank!"
Not only did the head man, but Bobby and Frank showed up, right at my bedside. Then slowly, Tony appeared.
"Hey, how you doing, Brad. Was fun, wasn't it?"
"Fun, Tony? My back doesn't feel like it's fun! Hey, wait a minute... no, it can't be...."
The room erupted in laughter.
Chase-baby was the one to break the news to me, saying, "Yep, Brad. Another setup! Surprise!"
My head sunk back into the cushy pillow, as I realized what took place. The whole twenty man lineup had been staged for 'my' benefit.
"C'mon Brad," Bobby said, launching me up off of the bed.
"Owwwwwwww....oooooohhhhh..."
It actually didn't hurt that much. Didn't hurt like getting whipped fifty times. It dawned on me that they had been right. I hadn't received fifty lashes. Not even forty, nor thirty, nor twenty. It did feel like fifteen, but I wouldn't had known for sure since I've never received that on my back before. Across my chest, yes and with a flogger, but not across my back with two angry leather straps.
"Wait! Where are you taking me!"
It became a joke to them all, as Tony helped the other nineteen men lift me up and carry me out of the main house, twenty hands feeling me all over. By now, the sun was almost setting. With one heave, I landed in the pool.
"Oooooooohshiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!" I cried out, as my body hit the cool, refreshing water.
Right after me, came the twenty guys, then Bobby, Frank, my Chase-baby and the other 'dominant tops'.
"Oooooh shit this feels great!" I assessed the temperature of the perfect condition of the water.
Several of them helped me over to a shallow end, propping my ass up on what seemed like an underwater throne. Boys began descending on me, donning those cute black bowties and thongs. Some held glasses of champaynge, while others catered to me with h'orderves.
"Now, this is the life!" I slowly began to forgive everyone.
"Heeey, Brad... How you doing, man?"
Looking up, there almost to the sky, stood Kareem.
"Good Kareem... Heeey, isn't that um, what's-his-name, the cop?"
"Yeah, meet my bro, Chad."
As I turned my head to greet Chad, a guy among the nineteen, moved his hand towards Chad, rubbing his leg.
"Hey, why don't you come sit with us?" He asked Chad.
"Who me?"
"Unless," the guy continued, "you're taken?"
Chad put on this big grin, saying to Kareem, "He wants me!"
"Well what are you waiting for bro? The little white boy wants you... go get'm man!"
From where I sat, the kid that wanted Chad wasn't all that small. Short, maybe 5'9 or ten inches tall, but his pecs were well worked to stunning beauty.
"Hey guys, give my man here and I some space, huh?" Man, number 4 printed on his chest, said to his buds.
All of the guys cleared out, extending their space to Chad. Kareem settled into the water next to Frank, whom sat on my other side, next to Chase-baby.
"Hi, I'm Chad."
Chad extended his hand, but before he could get a handshake back, the guy who invited him, number 4 printed on his mid chest area, slipped his arms around the cop and planted his lips on him.
"Wow!" Chad said, as they broke their kiss. "I've never been kissed like that!"
Kareem coughed.
"Well almost never!"
We all laughed.
The guy did tell Chad his name, David Finch. As conversation grew between the two, along with several more intimate moments, we learned that David was 27yo, vs. Chad, 28yo. Impressed by David's interest in criminal justice, by his field in the culinary arts, the two hung with us the whole evening, as we migrated from the pool, to the dinner buffet, to the disco and then our suite. Our suite contained several beds, queen sized, no less. Even though we could hear other couples moaning and groaning, the intimacy of each partnership remained. It probably helped that after our poolside party of champaygne, we went on to beers and wines, then after dinner drinks.
"How's the back, Brad?"
"Who cares! Keep fucking me...."
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Continued.....
Copyright 2005 Bradford D. Bigelow All Rights Reserved.
Permission is NOT granted to publish
this story to any PAY site, nor any site
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