A kinky story written by Andrew Martin | Chapter 6
So the game finally starts and I am sitting on an ottoman off to the side of the sofas and chairs Master Rob and his guests occupy. Aside from replacing empty beer bottles I haven’t done much, but I have a growing sense of worry about exactly what Master Rob has in mind. I mean, I trust him and know he isn’t going to injure me, but I’ve never been in a room with five men who know I’m somebody’s faggot before.
About midway through the first quarter, Garrett (Swimmer Guy) gets up. “Excuse me, boys.” “And where do you think you’re going?” Master Rob asks, and not in the kindest tone of voice, either. “Little boys room.” Master Rob chuckles. “Need to take a dump?” “No, just piss. Why? You keeping a journal?”
Now if I talked to Master Rob like that, his handprint would be visible on my face for three days. It’s kind of cool to see what he is like around other men, but even in this group, he’s in charge. Then again, it is his party.
“The urinal is over there,” he says, pointing toward me. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Garrett says. “Do I look like I’m kidding? I didn’t invite you guys over here to watch a fucking football game. My faggot needs experience in being shared. Hey fag! Thirsty faggot position!”
I slide off the ottoman and drop to my knees, head tilted just slightly and mouth open. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!” Danny (College Boy) says. Nick reaches over and fist-bumps Master Rob, but Nick knows more than the others about the range of my services. “I don’t know about this,” Garrett says. “Dude, what the fuck is wrong? This fag takes my piss, my spit, my cum, my snot and will lick sweat out of any spot on my body. He craves it. And for today, all of you get the same privileges of ownership that I have. Now grow a set and give my faggot what he’s thirsty for.”
Garrett takes a couple of steps toward me and looks down. “It’s OK, Mr. Garrett. It’s my honor and pleasure.” I say. “Getting bold, faggot? Speaking out of turn?” Master Rob never lets me say anything (unless I am having trouble breathing) without being spoken to, and I knew I was taking a risk. But I got the impression Garrett was straight and a little squeamish about the whole “fag” thing, much less what to do with one, and I wanted to help. “Nice job, faggot. You’ve got the right instinct, trying to put one of my guests at ease. Sometimes you are smarter than the average cuntboy.” “Thank you, Master Rob. Mr. Garrett, please? I think you’ll enjoy it.”
Garrett moves right in front of me and pauses. “Do I stick it in his mouth, or do I aim my piss stream into it?” he asks Master Rob. “Now whose call do you think that is?” the mocking Master Rob is back, starting to lose patience with any real man who doesn’t take to fag degradation right away. “I don’t want to make a mess,” Garrett protests. “No worries, dude. The fag will clean up any mess, and he knows just how to do it.”
Whether or not Garrett figured out what that meant, I don’t know, but he decides it’s best to take the direct approach. He slides his basketball shorts to the floor and puts the head of his dick into my mouth. Nothing happens for a little while. I’ve had this happen before. Stage fright. It’s rare that a first-timer can piss immediately into my mouth, and when someone who does it with me for the first time I automatically say, “You’re done this before” after I’m done swallowing. And I’m always right.
So Garrett closes his eyes and tries to relax. And finally it starts. It tastes like he’s already had a drink or two, which makes this easy. After a few seconds the stream gains power and he holds my head with both hands. “Holy shit! He’s drinking it!” he says, turning to the sofa while keeping his dick in my mouth. “What the fuck did you think was going to happen?” retorts Master Rob. “Is that hot?” Danny asks. “Not sure how I feel, but I do feel kind of powerful,” Garrett responds.
When the piss stream stops — and it takes a while — I decide to take another risk and start to suck on the head of his dick. “FUCK! He’s sucking my dick!” Garrett practically screams. “Then feed it to him,” Master Rob says. “But if anybody wants to get off, do it before halftime. I need you guys to be able to function for the postgame show.” “Shit, Rob, I can blow three loads by then.”
Garrett is not rough, but as he gets more comfortable with the idea of a guy on his dick he starts to do the work himself, fucking my face slowly and deliberately and allowing my tongue to work its magic. I keep my lips tight around his dick — it was maybe 6 inches and average thickness, so nothing I can’t handle — as he pumps, and I know he’s enjoying it. He completely loses sight of the fact four men are watching him face-fuck a faggot and focuses on his pleasure. Every few strokes he pushes it in deep and holds it, and I take the opportunity to work my tongue around the base of his dick.
“Damn that’s good. I’ve got to fucking shoot,” he says. And he picks up rhythm, still not going all the way in each time but definitely increasing the pace. I just keep my lips locked and my tongue moving and soon enough he’s flooding my mouth with his load. Not the best-tasting cum I’ve ever had, but I figure I’ll get a wide range of flavors today. As he starts to pull out, I lunge forward and take it all back in my mouth, still licking all around. “You are one cock-hungry slut. That was amazing.”
“Happy you pissed in my faggot’s mouth now, Garrett?” Master Rob asks, the mocking tone still there. “Rob, that was amazing. I would never do that to a woman, but it feels too fucking good not to do it. Guess I need a fag.”
I have no way of knowing for sure, but I’d be willing to bet three other men are thinking the same thing. Well, two. Nick already knows. And it’s Nick who comes up next.
“This looks familiar,” Nick says as he lowers his shorts and teases me with his semi-hard dick. “I already know how much you want my piss. Beg for it, bitch.”
“Please, Mr. Nick. I need you to piss in my mouth. I need all of your sacred fluids, but right now I need the piss. You saw how much I want it, and you already know how much I need it. Please, Mr. Nick, feed me.”
“Not bad, slutboy, but maybe you should lick my balls first.” Gee, you don’t have to ask me twice. Not that anybody today is going to be doing any asking. He puts one leg up on the ottoman to give me easy access, and I dive in. I lick all over and around his balls, then take one in my mouth and gently suck it. That brings a hand onto my head, which he pets like a dog. I know I’m pleasing him now, and that makes me feel good.”
Then Nick turns around, facing the sofa. “Bet you want to get in my nasty ass, don’t you faggot?” “Yes, Mr. Nick.” And I begin to lick him, first going up and down the crack a couple of times, then working my tongue around his opening. When it’s good and wet, I start to slide it inside. “Holy shit!” Danny says. “My girl won’t do that.”
“Most of them don’t,” Master Rob says. “That’s one reason you’re here. You don’t need to be gay to use fags. In fact, straight men need faggots more than we do, because even gay guys who aren’t total fags will do a lot of the things this bitch does but women won’t. Bitches don’t care about pleasing men. Fags live for it.”
Master Rob is always right, but I’ve never heard him put so simply what I’ve always believed to be true. If more straight guys would just relax and enjoy, their sex lives would get so much better overnight and their feeling of Alpha superiority would give them confidence in all areas of their lives.
All of that is well and good, and I can already here Master Rob telling them all that at the end of the party, but for right now I am eating a very hot ass. And Nick is clearly enjoying it. He pulls his ass off of my face and turns around. “Nice work, fagboy. But I’m saving my dick for later. Rob is lucky to have a nasty slut like you around. Open.” I open my mouth and look up into his gorgeous eyes and he spits in my mouth, then a long line of drool hangs down from his pretty lips. I patiently wait for it to break loose, but it doesn’t. Nick takes a finger and removes it from his lips, then puts the finger into my mouth, where I eagerly slurp it.
“Damn. He will taste anything you give him,” Former Jock says. I hadn’t heard his voice since he walked in. “Fuck yeah,” Master Rob says. “You don’t think I would keep him around if he didn’t, do you?”
“Fuck,” Former Jock says. “This is already the best Super Bowl party ever.”
As usual, Master Rob gets in the last word: “You have no idea.”
To be continued …
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