There I was, on my knees in the center of a dimly lit living room, naked as a jay bird. Between my thighs, my cock and balls were bound up tight from a latex cock ring. My dick jutted out from my crotch a good five or six inches, excited by the vibrating bullet that the ring had pressed against my scrotum. A long drool of my clear pre-cum steadily leaked from my piss-slit, down my shaft, and across my hard nut sack. But this wasn't about my cock. It was about the six cocks being jacked in front of me. All aimed at me. All ready to paint my eager face in hot cum.
I knelt on the carpeted living room floor of my host, Herman. He was at the end of the semi-circle, to my right. His long, thick, black cock wrapped in his strong fingers, which were moving back and forth along the length slowly and steadily. He wasn't in any hurry to be first to fire off. He never was.
Next to him stood Andrew. He was a bit older than Herman, by a couple of years. His lengthy tube of tanned man-meat glistened in smeared pre-cum and my saliva, having been the last of these six fantastic cocks to have been on my tongue recently.
In front of me was Barry. He was a younger guy, a bit thicker, one of the "bears" of our group. He was covered in dark, course hair, and his fire-plug-like cock jutted from a thick tangle of a pubic forest. It wasn't his hand working him towards his release, however. That honor belonged to his equally thick wife Bridget, who stood behind him, her arms wrapped around her husband. She was as naked as the rest of us, too. She had her free hand up between her husband's thick thighs, squeezing his balls, while telling him, "Go ahead, baby. Cum on this pig's face. I want to see his face covered in your hot, creamy load, and then you licking it all off. Do it for me, baby. You know I like watching you suck up cum." She was slut, through and through, which was why we liked having he around on nights like these.
Next to him stood Carl. He was a high school teacher who we all knew had a thing for much younger men, boys even, than our little group consisted of. When Carl paid our little club a visit, usually only once a month or so, he always had a huge load of semen stored up, ready for whoever wanted it. I gathered that he liked to edge the hell out of himself during school hours, and even enjoyed watching practice of the various sports teams while toying with himself. That evening he had been watching the boys' soccer team practice before coming over, and now his big heavy balls were loaded with thick, creamy, pent-up semen.
Beside Carl stood Diego, the youngest of our group, not just for that evening. He was only 30, we knew, and had been a life-long cock-sucker, by his own admission. He was the son of immigrants, day-laborers who worked two hours of north in the tomato fields. He had been invited over a few months back after Andrew had enjoyed him through a glory hole on several occasions. In fact, all of us had, as that seemed to be the guy's kink, sucking anonymous cocks through a hole in the wall. Not that I was much different than him. What cock-sucker wasn't?
Finally, at the far-left end of the semi-circle stood Edward. He was probably the oldest member of our group, a regular since day-one from what I understand. He had a beautifully long, thin cock that had probably been sucked to the root by everyone in attendance at least once, if not more. I for one had taken his entire 9" down my throat, the first one I'd eve throated as a matter of fact, the first night I had visited the club. He was insistent that way, having more or less forced himself down my gullet whether I wanted it or not. Now a days, I want it.
Behind Edward, his wife Eve sat on the loveseat. She, like the rest of us, was naked. Like her husband, she was also in her sixties, maybe only a year or two younger than Edward. She was long, very skinny, and had the leather-like skin of a woman who'd spent most of her life outdoors, and the deep tan that showed that she spent much of it naked. Her breasts were soft and flabby, and looked as if they long since been drained of any succulent milk. At the apex of her thin thighs was her hairy bush, which hid the long, deep gash of her cunt. Only recently I had been between those thighs sucking a huge load of mixed cum out of her. She hadn't been fucked since she and her husband had arrived, so I could only assume the semen belonged to someone other than her husband. Rumor had it he liked to watch her get gangbanged in truck stop showers, so I could only assume the mixture I'd so happily drank from her heated vessel had come from there earlier.
Having given each of the group a brief appraisal, I returned my full attention to the six cocks being stroked to release before me. Each Friday night, after a few hours of conversation, and a little casual tugging and sucking, one of our group would be given the honor of receiving the combined cream of the collective. In other words, Bukkake night! And this week was my turn, something I'd been craving for a while. I'd only been on the receiving end once before, then there had only been four others.
Our club, a group of like-minded men I'd joined soon after moving to Iroquois Heights, was called quite simply the Gay & Bisexual Men of Iroquois Heights club. The name said it all. The rules were just as simple. Once you came inside the host home, and we had three locations that rotated hosting, you stripped down to your birthday suit, leaving everything in a canvass bag in the front parlor, including cell phones, brought along your towel for "planting your ass on", and joined the others in enjoying conversation, whatever porn that might be showing, and delighted in the cocks, balls, and willing mouths that the men provided. It was a place where men could come, relax, and openly enjoy themselves in any way, shape, or form. Most of us were pretty open about being gay or bi, but there were those who came that were still quite closeted. Getting blown, or more commonly blowing, was why they mostly stopped by, though a few even enjoyed going upstairs to one of the public bedrooms to enjoy being fucked. And everyone's secret was always safe with us.
Whether I was the recipient or one of the strokers, I liked to try and guess which would shoot first, and even in what order they would go off. Once in a while I would guess right. As the recipient, well, I didn't really care, so long as the hot seed painted my face, drenched my beard, and flooded my mouth. This time, I guessed right.
I had figured that by the way his eyes were sparkling, Diego would be the first to feed me. Sure enough, not ten seconds after I'd picked him, he started moaning and shivering. His fist yanked back on his wonderfully thick dick and I turned in time to see the deep piss slit wink open. Next thing was a rope of white, creamy goodness shooting my way, like an X-rated Spider-man scene. The wad slapped me in the cheek to the left of my open mouth and reaching tongue, just above my beard, with the tail striping down to my chin. Diego grunted and stepped forward enough that his next round was more on target and landed on my tongue, though some did end up in my beard as well. Before his third round released, I had his round, purple knob on my tongue and the subsequent spurts all ended up where they belonged, in my mouth.
