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Southern Decadence Two

The lead-up to Southern Decadence heats up
Previously: Mike and Luke returned from Prague and moved into the same bedroom. Marcus came to live with them. Luke showed Mark around the Southern Decadence venues. Mike practiced dancing on the bar in a strip club, where he was groped, jerked, rimmed and sucked.

Finally Luke handed me my underwear and I disengaged from the hands and the tongue. Marcus started a round of applause, and most of the patrons joined in. One guy asked if I would blow him for $20; I just laughed.

Luke suggested we all return home. We got in a taxi, with Marcus up front. Luke and I were in the back seat. Marcus turned around and told me I had been hot up on the bar.

Luke kissed me chastely on the cheek. “Mike, you’ve got a job to get ready for tomorrow with Brett. I think you’ll enjoy it. Just keep in mind that chicks can get pregnant.”

When we got home Marcus gave me back my clothes. I vowed that eventually a New Orleans taxi driver would see me with my pants on. I took my clothes to my room and Luke followed me in.

“Luke, I think for the moment we should work in underwear instead of nude,” I said. “Less likely to lead to any sexual situations with Marcus. Also, I’d like to pay Marcus $200 a week in addition to what you’re paying him. First, it’s an incentive to keep him here, and thus you in my bed. Second, I’d like to be able to ask him to do some errands and stuff. I’d feel more comfortable if I were also paying him.”

Luke agreed. I checked my e-mail and learned a few pleasant things. I saved the news for later, and we walked out and met Marcus in the kitchen. All three of us were in our underwear.

“Marcus, Mike is going to pay you $200 a week as well so you can do errands for him. Mike and I are sharing a bed. What we do there is none of your business. We usually work nude, but for now we’ll wear underwear around the house. I encourage you to do the same. As long as Mike and I are paying you there will be zero sex between either of us and you. You know you’re not a prostitute, and we want everybody else to come to the same conclusion.”

Marcus agreed. I gave him $200 in cash and Luke gave him $180. “I’m keeping $20 a week until the $200 is paid back. Okay?” asked Luke.

Marcus was fine with it. “Where do you want me to start?” he queried.

“It’s Saturday. By next Friday night I want you to pick up around the pool, do what’s needed in the front yard, keep the house reasonably clean and buy groceries and shit. I’ll give you money for purchases, and I guess you can use my car.” Luke had apparently thought this through completely.

“You can use my car,” I said. “I almost never drive. I just got an e-mail that my car and my stuff is arriving Monday. I’ll add you to my insurance policy. If you drive drunk I’ll cut your dick off. And, just to be absolutely explicit, I prefer that Andrea never come here.”

Marcus was fine with the arrangement, with one exception. “When I clean up around the pool it will be better to work nude. Is that Okay?”

“Sure,” said Luke. “And swimming naked is good also.”

I shared the other piece of good news. “The New Orleans Police Department contacted me about teaching interviewing and interrogation to the Department. I’ll start in October.”

The rest of the day passed without incident. Marcus took care of the front yard and assumed the neighbors would be okay with his boxers. I started on the Private Placement Memorandum. And Luke did Luke stuff on his computer.

We ate microwave meals for dinner – none of us knows shit about cooking. We gave Marcus grocery lists for next week. Luke went into our bedroom and returned dressed in cutoff jeans and a sleeveless T-Shirt. The logo read “Cum Slut.” Marcus said, “I know where you’re going tonight!” He went to his room and came back in plaid boxers and a sleeveless T-shirt. His logo read “Fuck Me Hard.”

I dressed in polo shirt and cargo shorts. I had no clue what was up, but I could make a number of erotic guesses. The number of guesses was reduced when Luke handed me a package of two dozen condoms. “Can you carry these for us?” he asked, not waiting for an answer.

We took a taxi to the Marigny District. It was 8:30 p.m., and just starting to get dark. Luke gestured at a dilapidated building and said, “Let’s go into the Tucson for a drink.” So, we did.

It was nearly empty. The bartenders were shirtless and wore jeans or leather pants. My cargo shorts were obviously not in accord with the dress code. Everybody else was in jeans or leather pants, except for a guy with a leash attached to his collar. He was in just a leather jock.

We each drank a beer and I contributed $40 to the establishment courtesy of a video poker machine. As it approached nine o’clock the crowd picked up. Luke wandered off to the patio, and I followed him. A naked older guy sat in what looked like a barber’s chair; he was getting a blow job from a pudgy younger guy in leather attire, chains and nipple clamps. “Not my scene,” said Luke as he returned to the main bar.

At nine p.m. the place started emptying. I saw a stairway in a corner; there was a steady one-way stream of guys headed up. Marcus joined the line. Just as he turned the corner I saw him remove his boxers. “Let’s head to the Hawk upstairs,” recommended Luke. Sure, why not.

The top floor approached cave darkness. A single weak bulb dimly lit the area behind the bar. The bartender was shirtless, just like downstairs. Most of the light came from poor-quality videos shown on old TV screens on the wall. I grabbed Luke’s hand so I wouldn’t trip over something.

Marcus was at the bar drinking a beer. We tried to join him, but there was a crowd. A guy kneeling behind him was rimming his asshole. A guy to his left was sucking on a nipple. A guy to his right was licking his armpit. Somebody lit a cigarette, and I noticed a guy kneeling in front of Marcus, chowing down on his cock.

“What the hell is this place?” I asked Luke.

“This is the Hawk,” he replied. “Only about twenty guys up here, basically empty.” He gestured at Marcus and at a dark corner. “Very little action.”

I knew what the action was with Marcus. I wandered over to the dark corner where I saw a naked guy in what looked like a weird hammock. His legs were drawn up, and his asshole was presented to all the world. Four or five guys were lined up to use the asshole. One was vigorously fucking the guy, pulling back and slamming into him. The naked guy was groaning. It took me a minute to figure out that it was in pleasure.

A hand from behind snaked around and went inside my shirt, lightly running fingers over my nipples. Another hand was on my ass, squeezing me through my shorts. A guy who had to be seventy stepped in front of me. “Let me suck your dick,” he said. He started pulling my zipper down, and I stopped him.

“No,” was all I said. I brushed off the hands, and their owners went back to watching the serial ass-fucking. I saw Luke at the bar and approached him.

“This is the wildest bar I’ve ever been in for the U.S.,” I told him. “You and I appear to be the only ones wearing clothes.”

“Well, I’m about to fix that,” said Luke. He pulled his T-shirt over his head and dropped his jeans to the floor. Those went on the bar, and Luke walked back toward the guy getting fucked.

I looked at Marcus. His boxers had disappeared on the stairway, and somebody had torn his shirt to shreds. Now completely naked, Marcus was making out with the armpit enthusiast. He broke the kiss to ask me for a condom. When I handed it to him he gave it to the guy behind him who had been doing the rim job. “Put this on,” Marcus ordered. Marcus bent over the bar, and the condom – rolled onto a very large penis – went into his rectum. Marcus began pushing back against the guy.

The dog-collar guy from downstairs was licking my shins. I looked down and he said, “Please let me suck you. I want to suck you.” I told him no, and the guy at the other end of the leash was next to me.

“Make him suffer and wait,” he told me. Then he lifted my polo shirt over my head and began kissing me. I kissed him back. He tried to get my zipper down, but I wasn’t having any of it. I could hear a zipper, and it belonged to the guy I was kissing. He put my hand through his fly. He had gone commando, and I pulled his cock out of his pants and began stroking it. I was getting aroused.

I heard Luke yell “Hang onto these for me.” I turned and caught his boxer briefs in mid-air. He used sign language I understood, so with my free hand I threw him a condom. Then someone was behind me with his hands down the back of my pants. He fondled my ass, and got a finger in my asshole. I was getting more aroused.

Next to me Marcus yelled “Another condom!” I saw that the guy fucking him was done, and someone else was in line. I handed the guy a condom. With both hands occupied, the dog owner had my pants open. His slave pulled them down and then took my briefs in his teeth. They came down as well, and soon I was getting sucked for all I was worth. He was beyond just energetic. Hoover should study his technology. Within a few minutes I had spurted my man-gel down his throat. The guy I was jerking came all over his hand and mine. We took turns licking it up.

Marcus was now on his hands and knees. He had a dick in his mouth and another in his ass. A third guy was masturbating, and came all over his face. Dog boy crawled under Marcus and began licking his balls. The guy fucking Marcus was done, so I handed the next guy in line a new condom. That’s when Luke came up to me and asked for a second condom. Maybe two dozen wouldn’t be enough.

Luke disappeared into a maze of guys. I picked up my shorts and underwear from the floor and held onto them, along with Luke’s boxer briefs. I must have spent an hour handing out condoms to guys fucking Marcus. I occasionally had to use a hand to swat a cock away from my ass. Just after equipping Marcus’s next customer with a condom, two guys came up to me. One began kissing me while the other knelt behind me and rimmed me. The guy with whom I was making out stroked my limp dick until it was hard. Then he was on his knees in front of me.

He proved to be an expert cocksucker. He licked my balls and shaft, toyed with my nipples, rose to kiss me, lick me, and return to sucking. Ten minutes of this was all I could take. My second orgasm in less than two hours was mostly a dribble, but the guy sucked it all down anyway. I was on fire now.

I sank to my knees and began licking the head of his enormous cock. This guy was almost as big as the Frenchman in Prague. I was barely able to get the huge mushroom head into my mouth. Once I did he thrust forward and I began gagging. As I backed off slightly and began to lick around the gigantic head, he suddenly spurted his juice down my throat. I sucked down as much as I could. Some leaked out of my mouth and dripped down my chin.

“Sorry,” the guy said. “I’ve got a problem with premium evacuation.”

It is really difficult to laugh with a mouthful of cum.

I was tapped on the shoulder. It was Luke. “More condoms.” I was clutching clothes on my left hand, and retrieved three condoms from the pocket of my shorts. Luke took one and handed the other two to Marcus. Luke’s naked ass disappeared into the crowd. A condom-wearing dick disappeared into Marcus’s ass. This was going to be a long night.

I stood and went into the rest room. A guy about my age wearing just a jock strap was sitting in the corner. “Piss on me,” was his only greeting. I shook my head and mumbled something; he repeated the request. “I need you to piss on me.” Well, I had to piss anyway, so I let him have it.

He was still thanking me as I left the restroom. I went over to the bar and lay the clothes on top of Luke’s outfit. Except his outfit was gone. I ordered a beer and started talking to the bartender, who was in his early twenties. He was shirtless and wearing white briefs. He poured a glass of water of them, and they turned completely transparent. I made sure to get the name of the store where he bought them.

About every twenty minutes I rolled another condom onto a guy waiting to fuck Marcus. I listened to the bartender’s sob story and pretended to care. At one point three Hispanic guys huddled around me. After they heard me speaking English to the bartender they began talking among themselves in Spanish. They hoped to lure me outside and throw me in their van. I announced to them in Spanish that I wasn’t going anywhere with them, and was going to ask the bartender to call the police. Never saw them again.

I got rimmed two more times and sucked off once again before the crowd began thinning. Luke came back with a big grin on his face and cum on his face and chest. Marcus stood up and ordered a final beer.

“Luke, your jeans and T-shirt are gone,” I announced. “I have your underwear. Marcus, I don’t see any of your clothes.” Luke slipped into his boxer briefs. Marcus looked a bit puzzled, so I gave him my cargo shorts to wear home while I wore my tighty whiteys.

We found a cab outside and started home. “This is the third time,” said the taxi driver to me. “Don’t you own a pair of pants?”

This story is protected by International Copyright Law, by the author, all rights reserved. If found posted anywhere other than with this note attached, it has been posted without my permission.

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