When I awoke from my alcohol-induced “nap”, I had a crick in my neck and a pounding in my head. I rubbed my eyes with the base of my palms and reflexly did the guy thing; namely, started to scratch my nuts. Some kind soul had placed a beach towel over my slumbering and near-naked body. As I explored beneath the towel, I was relieved to discover my boner had subsided. I had heard those warnings on TV commercials way too many times about hurrying to the emergency room for erections lasting four or more hours!

It was dark and the pool area was vacant. The party had moved to the kitchen and dining area. I could smell the unmistakable smokiness of barbecue ribs. It made my stomach flip-flop.

I got up, stretched my neck and low back, and padded toward the pool house. Sitting on the couch and fiddling with his phone was Chance, Meg’s husband.

“Lazarus returns,” he laughed. “I’ve got some iced coffee brewing. You look like you could use it.”

“Thanks. I’m hitting the shower.” I grabbed my folded pants and tee, plus a towel, and headed into the john. I was pleasantly surprised there was no trace of the earlier orgy. I adjusted the rain shower to hot, kicked off my borrowed suit, and stepped in.

The shower truly was resurrecting me. After about five minutes, I was starting to feel almost human and getting hungry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Chance walk in carrying two plastic tumblers chock full of ice and dark coffee. He handed mine in, then proceeded to strip down and join me.

He smiled and proffered his tumbler in a toast, “Cheers.”

Chance took a large swig of his coffee and placed the tumbler in the shampoo niche. After grabbing a bar of Dial, he began soaping me down, starting with my chest. He slowly made circles around my areolae and tweaked my hardening nipples with his thumbs. When my sensitive nips reached full erection, his movements became more aggressive, pinching then twisting. I closed my eyes and began deep breathing through my mouth. Chance took this as an invitation, leaning in and passionately adding his lips to mine.

My first thought was that Meg was a lucky woman. Chance seemed to be an accomplished lover. As he French kissed me, his left hand went up to the back of my head and his right down to our erect cocks.

I had surveyed his meat when he first entered the shower. Although not as thick as mine, it seemed just as long, Truthfully, it was a better-looking specimen than mine, fewer gnarly veins and erect above the horizon.

With his soapy hand, he was now slowly frotting us.

I continued to keep my eyes closed. I let Chance make love to me in any way he wanted. I was truly putty in his hands. I fantasized about him frotting us until I exploded with cum all over his meat. Then I would drop to my knees, lick my own cum from his dominant fuck stick and blow him, adding his seed to mine. I craved his cock and wanted to be Chance’s bitch.

I lowered my left hand down to our parallel rods and took over for Chance. My rhythm was faster than his and my grip tighter. Chance began bucking and used both hands to pull my pelvis and meat toward him. We were now synchronized, each fucking my fist. I broke our kiss and breathlessly whispered, “Let me suck you off.”

He released my ass and pulled his beautiful dick away from my hand. I wasted no time dropping to my knees. I paid no attention to the continued downpour of the rain shower. I had only one thing on my mind: making Chance the alpha male and worshipping his cock.

I lifted his prick and ran my tongue from his ball sack to the head, then up and down three more times. On the fourth trip, I continued to his lemon-sized nuts, licking one and then the other. I wanted to suck his sperm orbs, but there was simply no way even one would fit my mouth. Instead, I pulled his scrotum up and to the left, to allow access to his taint. He knew what I wanted, He hiked up his left leg and put his foot on the bench, allowing my tongue free rein to his taint and anus.

I adjusted my position, still pulling his stick and balls up and to the left, but additionally pushing up on his thigh with my right hand. I now could tickle his pucker with my tongue. Chance began moaning, “Eat my ass.” I had no sooner run my tongue around his anus, when he commanded, “I’m gonna shoot. Take my load.”

I pulled my face from his nether region and he lowered his leg. I anticipated jacking his long perfect dick and sucking his cockhead until he was ready to shoot. He had other ideas. Chance truly was the alpha male. He shooed my left hand from his cock and balls. He tightly fisted his meat with his right hand, making his prick purple and angry. He crammed it against my lips and pulled my head forward. There was no alternative other than to open wide and be face fucked. I was in for a beating.

Thankfully Chance was red hot, because even on the first trust I gagged. There was no way I could take that much dick, let alone deep-throat him. He paused, leaned back slightly, stiffened, and then grunted, “I’m cumming”

Self-preservation kicked it. I grabbed his fist in mine to prevent his thrusting lance from skewering my skull. This didn’t prevent him from shooting load after load of hot jiz, filling my mouth beyond capacity. I pulled away, cum dripping down my chin.

While Chance was recovering, hands on his knees, I looked up at the shower head and rinsed his milky sperm from my five o’clock shadow. I opened my mouth, gargled, and spit out his seed. Chance didn’t know it, but he was the first guy to ever cum in my mouth.

Chance was a love ‘em and leave ‘em kind of guy (Aren’t we all?). He rinsed off his semi-hard liver-colored meat, said a thank you, and hit the road. I reflexly wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, then completed my shampooing and washing. I felt ambivalent and not particularly fulfilled.

I dried off and ran my fingers through my hair, sorta combing it. I found some deodorant in the medicine cabinet and splashed on some Club Man. I chuckled to myself. I thought only barber shops and health clubs carried that stuff. Putting on my own clothes felt good.

And then an “uh-oh” moment. There sitting in the very same chair Chance had occupied not 20 minutes before was Ellie (Mrs. TS). She greeted me with a smile. As best I could tell, Chance had come (cum) and gone before she arrived. Had she been in the other bathroom, within earshot from the lust exclamations? She didn’t let on or maybe just didn’t care.

Ellie had also changed clothes and looked damn fine; damn fine in a rich lady dressing down sort of way. She was wearing a very pale blue chambray “work” shirt that had that thin and soft, favorite go-to, ten-year-old garment look. She was clearly braless. It may have been the air conditioning, but her nipples appeared rock hard. Her pants were simply loose-fit jeans. Completing the look were Gucci mules. Yep, I knew what they were, even if my wife wouldn’t be caught dead wearing them (let alone afford them).

I got the feeling she had rehearsed her lines. She started, “I’m sorry I got you so drunk.” I suggested I’d had a lot to do with that; but she went on, “Yes, but the margaritas were my idea. You seemed to have been functioning just fine until then. Speaking of functioning; When I put the beach towel over you, you still had a, ahem, rather large erection. The Senator can’t get one after just one whiskey.”

I wasn’t exactly sure what to say, but I stumbled, “I guess I’ve been blessed.”

She arose and walked toward the bathroom on the right (thank goodness). Over her shoulder, she laughed, “I’d like to bless you with something.”

I knew I was the group’s boy toy, so I followed. She was standing just inside the door, cupping and raising her tits through her shirt. She moved a step closer and looked up with her beautiful blue eyes. “Do you like these? I know you like my ass. You can have both anytime you want. The Senator’s gone more that he’s at home.”

I figured nonverbal communication was reasonable under the circumstances, so I moved one step closer. I used both hands to raise her face toward mine and gave her a gentle, almost platonic, kiss. I couldn’t help but think of Chance’s spooey and rued the fact I hadn’t used the Scope in the medicine cabinet.

I broke our kiss and took a half step back. Without breaking eye contact, I lowered my hands to hers. I guided her fingers to her shirt buttons, forcing her to undo each in an almost excruciatingly slow manner. By the time she had unbuttoned each and pulled the tail from her jeans, her chest was heaving and she was biting her lower lip.

Our roles reversed. She placed her small hands over mine and guided them under the soft fabric, across her sternum to each globe. The shirt fell right and left of her breasts. Although she had a scattering of brown freckles in her cleavage, her breasts were creamy white and her areolae large and pink. Her areolae were mottled from the tension of her erect gumdrop-sized nipples.

Her tits were sufficiently pendulous that it was unnecessary for me to bend to suck her nipples. I brought each up to her chin level and alternated sucking one nipple, then French kissing her, then sucking the other.

She was not a passive participant. As I was stimulating her nipples, she was untying the drawstring on my gauzy trousers. She reached in with one hand to grasp my manhood and used the other to lower my drawers. She broke away, “We don’t have much time. The barbecue’s ready.”

She sat down on the commode lid and pulled me toward her. Before I could react, she had wrapped both of her small hands around my cock and was leaning toward my dick. The human brain is odd. All I could focus on were her fingers. Her fingernails were painted bright red and each finger only encircled my thick meat by perhaps two-thirds. She looked like she was in the on-deck circle. She pulled my bat into her mouth and began a seemingly well-practiced exercise of sucking the head while pumping and rotating her fingers around my meat, double-handed.

I was ready for BBQ and I was ready to blow a load after the hot shower with Chance. To my initial chagrin, Ellie pulled off my spout. WTF? The answer was quick. She put my eight inches of slobbery billy club between her boobs and titty fucked out a five shot load onto her tits, neck, and chin.

Ellie took her right index finger and dipped it into the reservoir of jiz in her cleavage, sucked it, and said with a wry grin, “Kate’s a lucky woman. Let’s eat.”