Suddenly, I heard movement behind me. I turned and watched a man – fortyish and wearing steel-framed glasses – push his way through the bushes and enter the clearing. He stopped abruptly upon seeing me, and for several seconds we just looked at each other.
“Hey,” I said, thinking one of us should say something.
He nodded. “I’m here to get my dick sucked,” he said, matter-of-factly.
“I’m here to suck dick,” I replied, matter-of-factly.
He didn’t move. He looked wary. Maybe, he suspected a trap.
I walked over to him and knelt at his feet. His expression changed, and he took out his cock. I remember it was flaccid and the head was very pink – almost the colour of bubblegum. I started to suck it, but it didn’t get any harder. But after five minutes or so, it flooded my mouth with a quantity of semen I had never experienced before. He jumped backwards so that when I coughed and spluttered I didn’t get any on his trousers or shoes. I got plenty on the front of my t-shirt, though. And it still required a gulp on my part to swallow what was left in my mouth.
“Fuck! That was a lot!”
He didn’t respond, but squeezed himself with a thumb and forefinger, and a long dribble of sperm flowed out of him. Then, he stuffed his dick back inside his trousers, said “thanks, kid” and left.
“We call him the gusher,” a voice said.
I had not noticed two other men, number five and number six by my count, arrive at the clearing. Both of them had their dicks in their hand. They had been playing with themselves while I sucked “The Gusher”. They walked over. Number five presented his cock first. While I was working on it, number six pulled off my t-shirt and tossed it onto a bush. As I gobbled the other chap’s cock, number six ran his hands over my neck, shoulders and back. “What the hell,” I thought and, standing up, I took off my shorts and underpants, and tossed them onto a bush. Naked, except for socks and a pair of canvas slip-on shoes, I knelt down again and continued to suck number five’s cock.
After a while, number six had me stand up, so I had to bend from the waist to continue sucking number five. Then number six started to rub his cock in the cleft between my buttocks. I reached both hands behind me and pulled my buttocks apart, opening my hole, making it clear where I wanted his dick. He used spittle as a lubricant, and pushed his cock into me. Number six then grabbed my upper arms and proceeded to forcefully fuck my hole. I continued to suck on number five’s cock, although the pounding I was taking from number six made it difficult. It was a lot easier, though, after number six came in my ass. A while later, number five grabbed me by the hair, yanked my head closer to his belly, and exploded in my mouth.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” said number seven, in a plummy accent. This fellow was much older than the others. He had a neatly trimmed grey beard. I also remember very pale blue eyes. His trousers and underpants were around his ankles. He laid me on the ground, raised my legs over his shoulders, and plunged his cock into my spunk-gooey hole. He may have been in his sixties, but he fucked my ass with the vigour of a much younger man. I held onto his buttocks and enjoyed the ride.
Obviously a gentleman, number seven started to wank me, as his cock moved piston-like in and out of my rectum. Almost immediately, I felt the beginning of a climax. I doubt I lasted more than fifteen seconds. I shivered like I was cold for several seconds, sperm oozing out of me, and running down my shaft and onto my balls. It was then that number seven pushed as deep into me as he was able and shot his load.
Before I had a chance to think, number eight flipped me over onto my belly, and stuffed his cock in my ass. Grabbing both my wrists, he pulled back, raising my upper body off the ground. For several minutes, I was yanked backwards onto his cock. By this time, I was feeling a little disorientated. All I was conscious of was the pleasure that was coursing through my body. Number eight let go of my wrists and I lay flat on the ground. All the while, though, his cock kept ploughing into me. Presently, he too shot his load into my ass.
Afterwards, I lay naked, face down on the ground. I was exhausted and feeling a little dopey. I rolled over onto my back. Dirt clung to my chest, belly and thighs. I had a sickly sour taste in my mouth. It felt like I still had a cock in my anus. My head fell to the left to find a man standing just a few feet away. He tilted his head sideways to look at me. “Jesus, mate,” he said, “you must really like being fucked.” I grinned, got up on my knees and elbows and re-positioned myself so my backside was pointing at him. He laughed – then fucked me.
Afterwards, I lay on my back again. I must have looked simply gorgeous. Sweaty, daubed with dirt, sticky with semen. I could feel semen on my lips and between my fingers. The slightest movement caused a squelching sensation between my buttocks. I’m not sure how long I lay there, looking up at a clear blue Sunday morning sky.
Eventually, though, I had to move. I managed to get most of the dirt off with my hands. I retrieved my trousers, underpants, and t-shirt from the bushes. I took off my socks and used them to wipe the cum off my face and from my thighs. Between my buttocks would have to wait until I got home. Then I dressed and walked – feeling decidedly grotty in a cum-stained t-shirt – back to my car.
Guess where I was early the following Sunday…