THE ASSOCIATION
Disclaimer: This is a work of gay fiction. It will contain scenes describing sex between adult males. If that offends you, if you are underage, or if it is illegal to possess such material where you are, then stop now!
I appreciate your constructive comments. Email me at letsgonaked2000@yahoo.com Copyright held by the author. Do not reproduce without permission.
SENSATION
The tongue and dick belonged to the actor I am calling "Joe." His friend "Jack" lay beside Nicholas on the other half of the bed, both of them slumbering softly.
"They've cashed in their chips," Joe drawled. "But I think I could squeeze out one more. You up for it?" He grinned at me boyishly, flashing his dazzling teeth exactly as I'd seen in close-ups in half a dozen movies. Shit, I'd lusted after this man since puberty, without even fully realizing it.
"For you, stud, I'm up."
His dick poked my navel and his sensuous lips descended onto mine. He was a full, wet kisser. In fact, he worked over my whole face, sucking at my ears, nostrils, and eyes in between strong, deep stabs into my mouth. I was a little surprised how hot that was for me-it was as if I was an ice-cream confection, and he was determined to lick me all up without losing a dribble. He nibbled gently, but wetly, at my Adam's apple, and slid over atop my body.
'This is going to be good,' I thought to myself.
And it was. As Joe ground his more-than-adequate equipment into my own, I slowly raised my feet above his hips. My heels tapped lightly on his strong buttocks. In a moment, I felt the head of his cock tentatively poking around my perineal area, like a thick, blunt finger looking for a way in. It pressed against my rectum-the same hole that had just recently been violated by half a dozen equally intimidating ramrods-now cleared of their residue, but still in a slack and receptive mode. The phallus slid smoothly in. It still felt great to have a man there. Joe began to slide in and out, while continuing to slather my face with his abundant saliva. I thought that if anyone can have an ORAL climax, I would surely do it. The pounding at my prostate continued for more than fifteen minutes. I moaned softly. The two sleeping beauties beside us purred blissfully in slumber. Joe's breath quickened. At last, he went rigid and still for half a second, as I felt liquid warmth enter my anus. Then, he pumped deeply, stripping out jolt after jolt of his nectar. After half a dozen squirts, he lay prone atop me, his head beside mine on the pillow. His wet dick, now pliable, though still quite large, slipped out of my body. He was sound asleep as soon as the last dribble of cum ran out of him!
Men! I chuckled. Fuck you and pass out on you!
So instead of a snuggle, I got the body weight of a strong, mature sex god resting on my torso. Damn. I loved it. In minutes, I was asleep as well.
When I awoke next. I was in the bed with Jack alone, who still snored softly beside me. I sat up, disheveled with sleep, to look around. There was no one in the room. But through the French doors to the balcony, I saw calves and feet, splayed and sort of twitching. Familiar, sexy calves and feet. Nicholas'.
I sort of fell out of the bed and staggered toward the door. The rest of the scene was that Nicholas was seated in a chair of the patio dining set, with Joe straddling his pelvis, sliding up and down on Nicholas' erection. One of the staffers from last night, the blond with the cute seven-incher, now back in morning uniform, was pouring two coffees at the table as if men on his station always fucked at the breakfast table (which they probably did.)
"Good morning, Sir," he greeted me, as I stretched at the doorway. My morning boner pointed straight at his eyes. "Shall I pour you a cup?"
Nicholas looked around Joe's ribs and grinned at me. Joe was too busy to take notice for the moment.
"Sure," I mumbled. "With two aspirin and one of those croissants." I sat at the table and watched the others taking their pleasure. For me, I was sexed out for the moment, and pretty sure that morning erection I had was purely for show.
After Nicholas had slimed Joe's ass, we adjourned to the shower, and Jack joined us there. On cue, the two attendant boys hopped in with us, and went to work cleaning every crack and crevice of our bodies. We emerged with all six of us refreshed, thoroughly groomed, and ready to be auctioned. But only Nicholas and I would stand on the Block.
The hour appointed was upon us almost before we knew it. We kissed our clelbrity studs good-bye and hustled off upstairs to our own floor, where the others of our class were prepping for show time. Dennis and Adrian were busy with a list and a set of markers, stenciling a number onto each man's chest.
Number One was Brendan, followed by Peter. Two of our heaviest hitters right of the bat, to get the bidding going quickly. After that, the order seemed to move from less physically blessed to more-though, of course, this was an abundantly favored lot. Our friends William and Patrick had high numbers already. Adrian greeted me cheerfully and began to stencil "35" onto my upper left pectoral. I felt good about the high number, but inquisitive about who was to be the top draw. Nicholas! Dennis was just beginning to trace "36" on his smooth, silky skin. What a terrific surprise! I could tell by his little smile that Nicholas was shocked, but also thrilled, to be the headliner for this event.
Of all the Association success stories, his had to be top of the list: arriving with so much hidden potential, but so bashful and nondescript. Now, Nicholas had become a stunning specimen of healthy, exuberant, young manhood. His face and body could grace the cover of any magazine and cause sales to soar.
The show itself began more like a beauty pageant than an auction. We were lined up in order and paraded in front of an audience of several hundred naked men. Then, we were individually brought forward and introduced. Only then did the sale begin. Each spectator had a little numbered paddle. The bidding was brisk from the beginning, but most guys went in just a brief flurry of bids. Brendan brought an astonishing $10,000, and Peter followed at $8,500. After that, the winning bid dropped to $3,500 for Lawrence, but it gradually rose again, with man after man going at slightly higher prices. Each man bought went to his purchaser, where he received instructions on what to do next. Some sat by their owners, some stood and watched from the back of the room, and some were sent out to help prepare for departure. By the time we got up to slave #30, the fresh-faced Elijah, the bid was $12,800. This was adding up to a considerable take for the charity.
The level of excitement in the room rose remarkably. Number 31 was Anthony, and the bidding became more heated. I perceived that there were a couple of competing bidders. One was a heavy-chested, Greek-looking fellow, darkly handsome but a bit obnoxious in his behavior. He scowled whenever he got out-bid, and even his laughter was derisive and defensive. The other was our own new buddy Franco, with James at his side. The two put their heads together, seemingly intent on some plan. They looked serious. Brendan and Peter already sat behind them. They added Anthony, after some spirited bidding, for $15,000. Jack and Joe moved up to the group and whispered something to Franco, after which they sat among his slaves and watched the proceedings intently.
These guys must be loaded, I concluded. But what did they want with three slaves? Strapping, very-well endowed ones, at that, each at least six feet tall. There seemed to be some conspiracy afoot, and it looked like the hairy Greek guy was trying to jack the price up more than win the bids.
Patrick came up next, and the pattern continued. Franco took him for $16,300. William followed at $17,400. I came on the block next.
I was not the least bit nervous about being stared at naked by hundreds of other naked men. I had some anxiety, though, about the bidding. What if I didn't draw a decent bid? That would be embarrassing. And later, I knew I would start to sweat a little over what kind of servitude I would have for the next few days. But that was more exciting than scary. Meanwhile, the bid was at 12,000 and rising.
But now, even after several rounds, there were more than the two competitors bidding. The bid soared to 18,000, and still five or six men seemed intent on staying in. It was $24,000 before two more dropped out. At $30,000, it was down to two. I finally went to the determined spendthrift Franco for $48,500, and there was a burst of applause. I hopped off the stage and found a seat beside Peter among my fellow slaves. Now it was up to Nicholas. I hoped Franco had the bucks left to take him, too. It had not occurred to me that the two of us might have separate owners out of this deal.
The bidding was fierce. At least eight men vied for Nicholas' ownership. In the end, Franco prevailed for our side (which I didn't even understand the purpose of), but he had to pay dearly-Nicholas set the record at $52,000. Now, the applause was hearty and sustained as he gracefully moved down to share my chair with me. It was reassuring to have his bare hip next to mine, and my arm slipped around his back as I congratulated him.
It was time now for the leaders, whom I had almost forgotten. Frank came up first, followed by Adrian. Colin and Adam finished off the lot. Each of the leaders brought in at least $35,000, and Dennis sold for $50,000, because Franco insisted on getting him over considerable competition. To my great surprise, however, he failed to bid on either Colin or Adam, and the two sexiest and most beautiful men on the stage went to other guys, separately, for only $45,000 each. Joe leaned over and spoke to Franco during the bidding, and Franco just shook his head firmly. Joe shrugged and sat back down. Clearly, this was Franco's call.
He now had eight of us, and that seemed to satisfy him. At the end of the auction, it was announced that we had raised over a million and a half dollars for the cause, and there was even more sustained applause. Now that he had succeeded, despite the cost, Franco was in good humor. He good-naturedly ordered the lot of us out to driveway, where a van awaited us, already loaded with the very little luggage he and his friends had brought. I managed to get next to Jack as we were leaving.
"So who is this guy Franco?"
"You mean you don't know? I guess you aren't so much into film. Well, he's one of the leading producers in the business. You guys are going to Hollywood!" He slapped me on the ass and moved away laughing to join Joe.
We piled into the van, and Joe and Jack as well as James and Franco soon joined us. Franco's jet awaited up at the airfield. The naked men, master and slaves alike, climbed aboard, and in minutes we were hurtling down the runway. We had little idea where we were going, still less about what we would do there, and not a stitch of clothing among the lot of us.
"This will be interesting," I commented to Nicholas, who was gazing from the small porthole of the luxurious cabin.
"And fun, I think," he responded. "Good thing it's warm in L. A., huh?