There were six of us at first. We met once a week for hot, man-to-man sex. We were mature and experienced enough that we wasted little time on preliminaries. We did have some drinks and snacks available for those who wanted them. These were bought with the low dues that we paid monthly to be members of the club.
Some of the guys who wanted it, mostly the younger guys, also brought their own pot, coke, Ectasy, or other drugs; nothing really hardcore, no heroin, LSD, meth or anything like that, just stimulants to inspire them to greater pleasures.
Once a quarter, every three months we had a cookout, usually in the mountains nearby, at a lake, along a river, or other inviting spot. Most of our meetings were held at the mansion of our wealthiest member. His estate was sumptuous, featuring a main house, a couple of guest houses, tennis courts, golf putting green, Olympic swimming pool, jacuzzi, steam bath and dry Swedish sauna. His staff catered our parties and were well equipped to join in our fun if we wanted one or more of them to do so. The staff members wore only t-shirts that looked like butlers' coats and tails from the front. In that skimpy dress they showed off constantly their manly packages, their cocks sometimes hard, sometimes dripping pre-cum, always inviting for a suck or a fuck.
So that you may understand, appreciate and perhaps be interested in joining our club, I will begin by sharing with you a fairly typical meeting night. Membership is by invitation only though. I was invited to join, for example, after taking a new job in the town where the club is located. As my boss and I got to know each other better working at the home site and traveling together, he extended an invitation for me to join the club. He admired my work, professionalism, profit-driven motivation and no nonesense approach to developing business, earning money for the company where he served as CEO.
He, like several of the club members, is married. I am single. On road trips, I noticed that he disappeared in the late evenings after we had finished the work days, usually had dinner together, and I retired to bed so I would be ready for another productive day beginning work early in the mornings. Rather typically, he came late in the evening, actually early in the morning, about 2 a.m., into the 5-star hotel room that we shared. I had been unable to go to sleep that night, was awake watching a pay-for-view sex film on the tv. It was a bisexual movie featuring two men and one woman.
A bit tipsy, obviously from drinking, he reeled into the room and saw the film running on the tv as I dozed near restful sleep, but with a stiff erection tenting the sheet covering me on the bed opposite his. He flicked on several lights and made quite a bit of noise as he went to the bathroom. Awakened and somewhat embarrassed by the film flickering on the tv screen as well as my hard cock, I could hear him taking a piss, washing his face, hands, and brushing his teeth.
He rustled around in the closet at the room's alcove for a while, opened and closed some bureau drawers. Then he came naked back into the bedroom of the executive room suite. "Hey, Ted," he slurred, "whatcha watching? Got you boned up hash it?
I was surprised by his apparent inebriation, nudity, and the forwardness of his conversation starter. Although we usually had a few drinks at lunches, before, during and after dinner, always appropriately martinis at lunch, before dinner cocktails, wine with dinner and brandies, apertifs or Irish coffees after dinner, I had never seen him drunk or even close to being so. I had also never seen him nude. Before this night he always wore pajamas. Furthermore, he had never breached our professional demeanor with such sexually crude comments. We had shared some risque jokes before, but his brazen questions about the film and my obvious state of arousal were new territory for both of us.
In his nakedness he was as aroused as I was. His uncut cock stood out, arched up above his hairy ball sac, reaching toward a treasure trail of hair leading from his navel below his moderately hairy chest. I could see he was uncut by the roll of skin bunched up behind his prominent cockhead, a darker tint glistening with his pre-cum juices bubbled at the slit of his long, thick, veiny shaft.
Embarrassed as I said, I clicked off the tv and rolled onto my side to drop the tented sheet off my hard dick. I rolled onto my side facing his bed, and could not help but feel the slickness of my own pre-cum on the sheet where it had been tented and on my cock knob.
"Don't be shy, Teddy, my man," he said. "I didn't mean to embarash you," he slurred. "Things didn't work out for me tonight, and I am horny as can be. Lesh talk for a minute." He sat down on his bed facing me, his legs akimbo, balls draping over the edge of the bed, cock up, hard, just a few feet from my face.
"Sure, sir," I answered. "What do you want to talk about?"
"I've been curious," he said, "about what a young guy like you does for sex. You never go out when we are on these bishness trips. I've never even known you to bring a woman to any of our office gatherings or mess around with any of the hotties that work with us. Just how do you take care of that nish cock of yours, get your rocks off?"
"Well, sir," I stammered as I saw him wrap a hand around his hard cock and stroke it, actually milking down and out a flow of clear juice, his pre-cum, and smear it around the bulbuos helmet of his hard tool, "I have my friends in our hometown."
"Freends," he slurred, stroking his cock and drawing out more pre-cum, "or fuck buddies?" he asked.
"Friends," I answered, "and I do have sex with some of them."
"Men or women?" he asked.
I did not know exactly where this was going, did not want to lose my job in this exchange with an obviously drunk, horny boss, so I tried to answer neutrally. "Mostly women," I stammered on, "er, uh, the women I have sex with, men friends."
