The Neptune

If you have ever had fantasies about gay circuit parties, where all the men were hot, and everybody was shirtless, and everywhere you looked you saw a bulging fly, then this story is for you.

Most of us at the Neptune loved disco. Tonight the club was having a white party. It was said that the entire membership would be there.

We had all spent a lot of time at circuit parties, showing off our buff bodies and probably using too many drugs.

The Neptune had a complete medical history on everybody, and those few guys that used to have drug problems were, in every case, completely cured. Not that we all did not continue taking lots and lots of recreational drugs, but the amount and type were carefully tailored to our individual physiologies.

Dr Joe supervised a program of nutritional, curative and recreational drugs of sublime sophistication and effectiveness.

For example, it was said that Fred had been an addict when the Neptune found him. They saved him, not by taking him off drugs, but by giving him safer drugs in carefully controlled amounts, but with even more interesting highs.

The range of drugs that came out of the dispensers never ceased to amaze me.

I asked nurse Bruce one time if, by substituting one set of drugs for another, they had simply confirmed Fred's addiction. Bruce said, "No, Fred could quit tomorrow and would suffer no withdrawals at all. He would simply be missing some of the fun he constantly had as a member of the club."

Bruce also reminded me that, just like every member, I too had a chip in my arm and was monitored constantly by the medical staff for general health, heart rate, hormone balance, and so on.

Indeed, compared to the general population, the fellowship of Neptune cocksuckers were the healthiest and happiest group of people around.

On this night everybody lined up at the dispensers as we entered.

The drug tonight was a throwback. It was just plain old ecstasy. This was a little bit extreme by Neptune standards, but the constant monitoring took all risk out of it.

Bruce told me that a few guys were known to be physiologically incompatible with ecstasy and would be getting something else, but in most cases would not even know it.

When I joined the Neptune, I was told that I could have all the drugs I wanted, so long as Neptune approved and supplied them and, as a matter of course, monitored me. A member never, never bought drugs on the street.

Of course, all hard drugs were a big no no. Even alcohol was discouraged.

As a result, nobody ever had a bad drug trip or any kind of physical problem.

Randy and Bo and Mike and Chuck and I were lounging on the big cock and balls sofa in the lobby and chatting and necking a bit before going into the party.

Soon the ecstasy began to kick in. We could hear the sound of Gloria Gaynor singing

I Will Survive

coming from the discotech, which was apparently plugged into the sound system.

Holding hands, and in a very affectionate mood, we got up and walked toward the elevator.

Walt joined us to say that we had also gotten some energy booster in our drug cocktail tonight and would be able to dance all night (or whatever) without getting the least bit tired.

Then he took me and Randy aside and told us that we had been given a dose of psilocybin instead of ecstasy. He and the staff had studied our mood charts (mood charts!?), and it had been determined that we would have an even better time tonight if we were tripping on "shrooms."

We giggled and said that was fine with us. I had, in fact, noticed that colors were beginning to look a little bit vivid.

We passed by Butch, who was on his knees sucking some guy off. I recognized the guy as the bartender who had kissed me one night in the yellow neon bar. I wanted to stop and ask him his name, but Randy said that it was a bad time and would be rude.

I did get a glimpse of the dude's dick. Now, I was really determined to find out who the fuck he was!

Walt smacked Butch on the shoulder and said, "Get up and join the party, or you will miss all the fun!"

Butch stood up and, as he wiped the cum off his face, said with a big grin, "I

was

having fun."

We all emerged from the elevator on an upper floor, where all the fun would be.

I had forgotten that circuit parties always had a theme.

As we entered the discotech, I saw that the theme was obviously the planet Neptune as it might look to an astronaut who landed on the surface.

There were streaks of glimmering blue everywhere intermingled with white streamers. Mysterious fountains of blue and white fire burst from openings in the floor and turned into glowing bluish snow as it reached the ceiling.

The disco music had been temporarily replaced with new age music that added to the mood of alien mystery. The blue snow was now drifting down toward the floor. Randy had his mouth wide open and his tongue out trying, little-boy-like, to catch the flakes on his tongue.

Mike told him to stop embarrassing us and shut his mouth or he would give him something a lot tastier than a snowflake to chew on.

A very realistic moon hung in the simulated sky. The moon was pinkish with some bluish bands. Chuck said it was a rather realistic representation of Neptune's moon Triton. The whole ceiling was a planetarium dome and was soon covered with brilliant stars.

A shooting star shot across the "sky". It was an actinic blue. It was all so fucking realistic.

Irregularly shaped patches of the floor were transparent.

There were flashlight fish swimming around down there in the darkness!

Walt, the fabulously rich owner of the Neptune, used to be the director of the aquarium in a major city. Fish were his third love after sucking cock and 70s psychodelia..

I was feeling delightfully stoned and lay face down peering into the, "quiet parlor of the fishes." I recalled a line of Thoreau— "Heaven is under our feet is well as over our heads."

But then, heaven was right up close as my boyfriend Randy lay down on top of me. I could feel his big package pressing into my asscrack. I am afraid that I gyrated a little bit.

Chuck and Mike yanked us to our feet and said to knock it off or we would miss the festivities.

We all commented on how beautiful it all was. We were all dressed in brilliant white clothing á la white party.

Bright blue and green laser beams played over our bodies. The spacey music faded away and was soon replaced by

Don't Leave Me This Way

, by the Communards.

It must have been a time lapse effect caused by the psilocybin because, all of a sudden, I was out on the floor dancing.

Most of the crowd now had their shirts off. I seemed to be dancing in slow motion but very fast at the same time, and I was enchanted by the handsome faces and sexy bodies of my fellow dancers. I saw Tony Antonio dancing shirtless and became momentarily obsessed with his beautiful six pack abs. Moreover, he was a very sexy dancer. He knew how to move.

Pecs and washboard abs and magnificent arms were everywhere you looked. I saw one tall dude with a spectacular body dancing by himself. One of his forearms ended in a stump. I realized I was looking at the legendary Jerry of Shark attack fame.

Stayin' Alive

by the Bee Gees was playing. Walt and his 70s obsession!

Mike and Chuck were dancing near me and Randy and Bo. I loved how these two big shirtless studs looked with their bulging biceps and tight white pants that left little to the imagination.

I noticed Jeff and Jeremy nearby and could not believe how attractive Jeff's ass was in his white stretch levis. I wanted to throw him face down, rip off those fucking pants, and stick my tongue up his ass.

How long had I been dancing?

I saw that pretty much everybody was shirtless now—some had stripped to their tighty whities—and their upper bodies were covered in gleaming sweat.

They all looked so fucking sexy that I felt my heart would explode with the sheer beauty of it. I saw Francisco sensuously licking the sweat off his boyfriend Billy's magnificent hairless chest, while they both continued to slowly dance.

Most people continued to dance, but here and there, guys were on their knees sucking their dance partner's cock.

The blue lasers were sweeping the room, and I suddenly wanted to have a dick in my mouth. I was staring at the crotch of the adorable Woody.

I continued to dance with Randy but could not take my eyes off the bulge in Woody's fly. Randy noticed and said, "Go for it lover. He is fucking gorgeous."

Without remembering how I got there, I found myself on my knees sucking on Woody's dick. I felt like I had just had a popper and experienced pure joy as I plunged down again and again on the delicious hard throbbing meaty cock.

I was aware of the throbbing disco music, I was aware of the cock being rammed down my throat, I was aware of Randy, now also on his knees nearby, alternately sucking on two different dicks. I was aware of Jeff's beautiful ass in the tight pants. I was aware of the heady smell of mansweat. I was aware of the pulsing disco beat of the music. I was aware of Randy's beautiful face even as he sucked cock. I was aware of the blue lasers and the alien moon and the love between all of my fellow members, those dancing and those now on their knees. I was aware of everything. The psilocybin was giving me the best trip of my life.

Again there was a time slip and I was lying on top of Randy on the floor as a spectacular looking naked guy danced oblivious around us. I had my tongue down his throat. I loved him so much.

I asked him how many cocks he had sucked and he said about four and asked, "And you?"

"Only the one. But I intend to catch up if I can just concentrate enough to find some more dicks to suck."

The psilocybin trip seemed to go on and on. By this time, more than a few of the dancers were on their knees, but the music and the dancing just continued, as if nothing were happening.

You would think that some people would also be fucking, but that never seemed to occur.

I found out later that, mixed in with our drug cocktail for this evening, were potions that made us crave dick in the mouth, but not dick in the ass.

I realized that this sucking of cock on the dance floor had always been the unconscious goal and theme of these circuit parties, with their spectacle of flickering light, seductive music and sweaty shirtless gorgeous muscular men in tight revealing pants.

Neptune just had the intelligence to make the fantasy happen. Once I realized that this was what was going on, I kind of relaxed and spent the rest of the night dancing about three fourths of the time and sucking cock one fourth of the time.

At one point a fog machine filled the entire dance floor with blue mist. The music seemed to get louder, and everybody was now dancing because it was a little bit cold to be on your knees in the fog.

They were playing

YMCA

at full volume. At this point I had an hallucination:

The fog lifted, and I could see that the room was now surrounded with a fenced platform with glory holes all the way around.

Some guys scrambled up to the platform and stuck hard cocks through the gloryholes for the people below to suck.

There were handholds on both sides of every hole and you could suck off the guy above while you were standing up without having to go down on your knees.

Pretty soon every single stud in the room was either getting sucked or sucking. Utter shameless hungry cocksucking took over, and the sound of slurping and moaning and trash talk almost drowned out the disco music.

In fact, as Jeremy down below took my second load in ten minutes, and I watched the frantic line of totally enthusiastic cocklovers below, I just got more and more excited anticipating my next shift of dickdiving, and came a third time in Jeremy's eager slurping mouth.

I could not resist any more and virtually ran down to the heaven below and soon was happily ramming a huge dick into my ravenous mouth.

I was having no trouble at all getting even the biggest cocks down my throat, and I noticed that Lance at the next gloryhole was having the same experience.

We leered at each other and then proudly showed off our cocksucking skill as he, then I, then he, and then I, plunged even deeper down onto the giant thick cocks we were both sucking on.

I don't know if it really happened, or if it was a delusion brought on by the psilocybin, but it seem like we had somehow found the two biggest cocks in the room. We had attracted an audience.

I fantasized that the two guys we were sucking off had never been able to find cocksuckers that could take all twelve inches of their delicious cocks. And delicious it was.

I loved that the entire crowd was watching me worship this man with that giant dick and effortlessly letting him ram it all the way down my throat again and again.

Lance and I got loads at the same time. Even though the cum was pouring down my own throat, I could tell that Lance was getting a load too, because he was moaning loudly and having his own orgasm. So was I.

There was another time jump.

I was back on the dance floor dancing. The ring of gloryholes had vanished. It had all been a product of my filthy imagination.

I was really peaking on psilocybin now, and seemed to experience weightlessness as I danced and floated and spun and laughed with the lovliness of the stars above mixed with the lovliness of my fellow dancers below.

Synesthesia combined the beautiful faces of my friends, the wonderful taste of at least four loads of cum in my mouth, the light of the stars, and the thumping disco music coming from the floor through my feet and up my legs to my groin.

Suddenly the stars and planets disappeared and the spherical projection screen above and around us showed a rock concert venue. Rudy had collected a lot of old footage and somehow edited it all into a seamless and spectacular 3-D film. An impossible lineup of legendary artists and gay icons succeeded each other in wave after wave of star power.

The whole crowd roared their approval as Cher, Madonna, Thelma Houston, Donna Summer, Diana Ross, Sister Sledge, Bette Midler, The Bee Gees, The Village People, Sylvester, Cindy Lauper, ABBA, Taylor Swift, Kesha, and Lady Gaga followed each other, one after another, onto the stage.

Interspersed between, and even during many of the acts, smoking hot male dancers took over the stage. Their dancing gradually got more and more explicit. Eventually they shed all their clothes and started having sex with each other on stage. This part of the show may have actually been real. Who the fuck knows!

It was all in stunning 3-D and looked absolutely real. The whole time the stage show went on, we continued to dance.

I thought the concert would end when Lady Gaga appeared. But they saved the best for last. Rudy had found concert film of Gloria Gaynor singing an extended version of

I will survive.

If there was ever a gay anthem, this is it. To say the crowd responded with enthusiasm would be a vast understatement.

Faces and stars and biceps and pecs and gogo boys and rock legends swam in and out of consciousness. Only when dawn came, and everybody was pretty well drained—and a bit worn out—did the party wrap up.

I asked Randy a couple days later if the whole concert was also an hallucination like the ring of glory holes had been. But he said, "It really happened, and it was glorious. Halfway through the Gloria Gaynor thing you dropped to your knees and sucked me off. Talk about peak experiences!"

The Neptune had saved one amazing effect for the finale.

The entire ceiling slowly and silently slid back, and the light of the dawn poured into the large dance room.

We were evidently on the top floor. Soft ethereal new age morning music played, as we all showered in an adjacent communal shower.

There was a lot of snuggling and mutual washing of backs and other parts of the anatomy, but the explicit sex seemed to be over for the night.

In yet another large room with a glass ceiling, but mostly open to the morning sky, a sumptuous breakfast buffet was laid out.

On top of everything else that the club did, they really know how to cook. Moreover, the Neptune pharmaceutical geniuses had added some delayed-action ingredient to tonight's drug cocktail that actually reversed the usual appetite suppressant properties of the ecstasy.

We ate sausages and eggs Benedict and bacon and asparagus and avocado toast and breakfast potatoes and scones and scrambled eggs and bagels with lox and yogurt parfaits and english muffins and pancakes and fresh strawberries and french toast and English muffins and mini quiches and the Neptune's signature orange juice.

It was probably the only time I ever had OJ at the Neptune without it containing some drug or other.

And then, one by one, we curled up to cuddle and sleep in an amazing and dimly lighted adjoining room with hundreds of soft warm pillows on the floor.

We were all naked, and our arms and legs and bodies were all tangled up together in a friendly way.

Enchanting barely audible classical music was now playing. The whole room was filled with love. I vaguely recall being wrapped up in the arms of Bo and Randy and Tim with Jeremy and Jeff gently sucking on our toes as we all drifted off into a happy sleep filled with vague and sensuous sexy dreams.