Date: Mon, 24 Apr 2000 20:29:36 GMT
From: ADI
Subject: BBS Parties

"BBS Parties"
(Mm, group, bondage, fetish, nc)

This is what Hollywood would call a "fictionalized history".  Everything
here really happened, more or less, but some of the details have been
edited for your entertainment and/or the protection of the people
involved.


Back in the late 80's, the sysop of my favorite BBS liked to throw parties
and invite everyone from his board.  Unlike the house parties you hear
about in the news where people get out of control and destroy the place,
these tended to be well behaved even if 50 people showed up, probably
because we all knew and respected the host.

The bbs group was pretty diverse-- jocks and nerds, teens and young
adults.  At the time I was one of only two openly bisexual members,
although quite a few would come out as gay or bi in the following years.
Not everyone agreed with my lifestyle but computer geeks don't seem to
react the same way as the general population.  Besides, many were quite
open about their own sexual quirks, if only to compete.  It was one of the
few places in my life where I was comfortable with myself.

At one of these parties the sysop brought out the infamous Purity Test.
You answered a bunch of intimate questions about your life (sex, drugs,
etc.) and then shared only your final score with the rest of the group.
The person with the lowest score wins the title of "scumbag of the
universe", while the highest score results in endless teasing for being a
virgin at everything.  Although I didn't win either prize, my final tally
was impressively low.  After that party, I found myself getting much more
attention from a small group of guys.  Justin, Steven and Adam were around
age 12 or 13 and Trevor was much closer to my own age of 24.  Trevor's
score was near 100% (which is to say, a very old virgin) and he was
determined to do something about it.  Justin's score was barely above
mine, and I think he intended to change that.

These parties happened several times each year, and I would always get a
call to pick up Steven or Justin or both of them.  I never knew what to
expect.  Once when I was driving home alone with Steven when he said
"look", and showed me that he had quietly unbuttoned his pants and had his
14-year-old dick standing straight up in the air.  I said "put it away--
you'll get your chance."  On another trip Justin chose to confide in me
that he had been having regular sex with his aunt when he was 12, but his
parents didn't let her come around any more.  He also admitted that he'd
had anal sex with Adam on a few occasions.  I never knew what to expect.

After going to a dozen or so bbs parties over a period of two years, I
finally volunteered to host one at my own home.  Justin and Steven (who
were then 15) both asked me to pick them up around noon so they could
"hang out" all day.  When Trevor and I picked up Justin, we found both he
and Adam (14) wearing spandex bicycle shorts and loose T-shirts.  Justin
was about 5 feet tall and 90 pounds, with Adam about 4 inches shorter and
10 pounds lighter.  Both had the kind of skinny physique that makes
spandex-clad boys such a turn-on.  Steven had turned into the real pervert
of the group, and even though he dressed his tall 6-foot, 100 pound frame
in conventional jeans and button-up shirt his mind was never far from the
gutter.  It was obvious, too, because he was one of those kids who never
stopped talking unless it was to eat (something he didn't do often,
judging by his rake-like stature).  By this time Trevor was practically a
permanent fixture at my house, and Steven and Justin knew we were having
an open relationship of sorts.

We had barely been in the house a minute when Steven asked "can we watch
you and Trevor fuck?"  The answer was an instant and unwavering "no."  He
then started off on a tangent about bondage: "Do you guys do bondage?
I've been practicing tying myself up.  Wanna see?"  "No."  "Would you tie
me up?"  "No."  "Pleeeeease."  (sigh)  Trevor decided that we had to do
something to shut him up, so I went and found some duct tape.  Steven was
wearing a long-sleeved shirt and full-lenght jeans so I wasn't worried
about hurting him when the tape came off.  While Steven sat quietly in the
middle of the livingroom carpet, Trevor first bound his legs tightly
together at the ankles.  Then Steven crossed his arms behind his back and
Trevor taped them wrists-to-elbows on both sides, making the arms
completely immobile.  I sat on his feet and Trevor held his arms.  He was
about to start talking again when Justin grabbed the roll and put a piece
over his mouth.  Now he was stuck there, immobile and unable to speak
(although he didn't stop trying).  Never one to miss an opportunity, Adam
started tickling.  I sent Justin to the kitchen to retrieved an ice cube
and unbuttoned Steven's shirt.  Trevor pulled Steven's body flat and held
his shoulders to the floor, arching his back.  Justin and Adam went at it
with gusto, melting more than one cube on Steven's almost hairless torso.
Meanwhile I started creeping my hands up the insides of Steven's legs,
eventually sliding along either side of his bulge to undo his belt and
loosen his pants.  Steven's muffled laughter turned to squealing and
squirming, and the tears were rolling down his cheeks as Justin and Adam
melted several more ice cubes along his waist, making the cold water run
into his shorts.

We couldn't just set him free after that, so we left him lying in the
middle of the room to air-dry.  The rest of us started wrestling.
Eventually I got Adam on his back and straddled him.  He started "humping"
at me to try and bounce me over his head, but instead all it did was draw
comments from the other two.  Every time he humped, we would slide about
six inches along the floor.  He never gave up, and I didn't see why I
should, so eventually we made it all the way around the room, much to
Trevor's and Justin's amusement.  I figure they got a much better view
than me, considering they could see Adam's spandex-clad lump hitting my
butt.  They cracked jokes about how much Adam wanted to fuck me.

When we made it back to the starting point, I got off Adam and went for a
beer.  I grabbed another ice cube, but kept it concealed.  When I came
back Adam was trying to get the better of Trevor and Justin was just
sitting on the floor watching like a deer caught in the headlights.  I
collapsed across Justin's knees, effectively pinning him against the wall.
Feeling much more brazen by now, I slid my hand up the inside of his leg
and under the band of his spandex shorts.  He drew in a sharp breath but
did nothing to stop me.  He wiggled a bit and spread his knees, giving me
more room.  I reached in some more, and confirmed what I had thought
earlier-- his spandex was smooth because he wasn't wearing anything under
it.  That's when I let the ice cube hit him.  Justin yelped as I grabbed
hold of his cock and balls and held the ice cube firmly in place.  He
bucked like a bronco but never lifted his hands off the floor.  Adam and
Trevor didn't know what was going on, but qickly concluded Justin was
getting a hand-job.  They started chanting "jerk him off, jerk him off"
but I had other ideas.  By now the ice cube was melting quickly, and was
small, round and smooth.  I dug deep and held the ice against his bottom.
He squirmed some more from the cold, but eventually relaxed.  I gently
pushed the cube in, letting it lubricate and desensitize him.  I kept
pushing with my finger, following the cube inside until my finger was
buried to the hilt.  Justin moaned as I wriggled my fingertip forward and
backward, caressing his prostate.  Outside his spandex shorts, I cupped my
free hand around his hard shaft and rubbed gently.  He rocked his knees
back and forth a few times, enjoying the stimulation both inside and out.
I thought he might go all the way, but I guess some sense of shyness hit
him.  He whispered "not yet -- later."  I removed my hands, and the
afternoon continued as if nothing had happened.

The party was largely uneventful, although I was surprised the neighbors
didn't call the police since there always seemed to be a half-dozen boys
out on the front steps due to the rigidly enforced no-smoking policy.

Most of the people left around midnight, but 4 or 5 chose to spend the
night.  Justin, myself and another teen I never really knew ended up
sharing my bed since it was the largest.  At some point in the wee hours,
the other kid mumbled something about going downstairs for another beer
and got out of bed.  I told him to close the door on his way out.  Justin
was in that grey zone on the edge of sleep when I slid my hand down the
front of his spandex shorts.  He mumbled something incomprehensible and
shifted slightly.  I wasn't sure if he was awake or not, but he boyhood
was definitely awake and getting stiffer by the second.  I crawled under
the sheet and gently lifted the spandex.  Thankfully, his shorts were
large enough and stretchy enough to fully expose his equipment without
pulling uncomfortably.  He moaned softly as I licked his knob and shaft.
Fully awake from the arousal, he lifted his bum and slid the spandex
shorts out from under his body.  I slid them toward his feet and he spread
his knees wide.  Finally I took him into my mouth.  He moaned again and
again as I slid up and down his shaft, sometimes licking, sometimes
sucking gently, sometimes sucking quite hard.  Whenever I felt his body
start to stiffen up I would slow down and bring him back down from the
brink.  Finally after about 10 or 15 minutes of this I kept going and
going, taking him all the way into my throat on each thrust.  He came in
waves, and I swallowed greedily.  I could feel his wet warmth hitting my
mouth and throat and tasted the tangy sweetness.  I held him in my mouth
until he was completely finished and starting to soften.  I backed off
slowly, drying him with my lips.  He was just pulling up his pants when we
heard the other teen coming back up the stairs.  In the morning when I was
driving them home, Justin began telling Trevor about how good I had been
the night before.  I wasn't really embarassed that Justin was telling
Trevor about it, but was surprised that Justin would bring it up so
easily.  It's weird hearing other people praising your sexual skills in
your presence.  It's even weirder when the person complimenting your blow
job claims to be more or less straight.

I had another party about two months later.  This time we skipped the
private afternoon party.  Things roared until midnight as expected.  This
time only two people asked to stay.  Adam didn't want to go home smelling
like beer, and Mike didn't want to drive drunk.  I agreed, and the three
of us spent a few hours playing darts-for-beers in the basement (I don't
remember the rules, but it involved a lot of drinking).  After a while
Adam dissappeared but Mike and I kept playing.  I went up to grab a fresh
beer and found Adam lying down in the livingroom.  I asked him if he was
OK, and he replied that he just couldn't sleep.  Looking at his pants I
could see why-- he had a mound to be proud of for a 14-year-old.  I think
my exact words were "I can fix that for you, you know..."  He told me to
have another game or two and he'd think about it.  So I did.  By the time
Mike and I had played another 15 minutes or so he was ready to pass out.
He said he was going to stay in the basement where it was cool and dark so
he wouldn't get a hangover.  I left him there, and went upstairs to find
Adam sitting on the edge of my bed.

Adam said simply "I want to keep my shirt on, but the rest is up to you."
I started small, helping him to lie out on the bed and undid the button
and zipper on his jeans.  I reached in and pulled out his stiffening
boyhood.  After caressing it for a while, I leaned over and wet it with my
mouth.  I helped him inch his way out of his jeans between strokes, and
eventually had his underwear on the floor next to the bed.  He spread his
legs wide and I crawled between them on the bed and went to work.  I
sucked and licked and sucked and licked, but he simply stayed hard.  After
a while, he volunteered that he probably had too much beer to reach an
orgasm.  I offered that maybe we should try something different.  He
tilted his head, waiting for more.  I asked him "do you want to fuck me?"
to which he answered "yes, absolutely!"

At age 26 I had still never been fucked before, believe it or not.  I'd
had lots of sex, but I was always the active one.  I shed my own clothing
and grabbed the vaseline.  I decided it would be better to prepare myself
rather than asking him to do it.  I put enough vaseline around and in my
hole that he wouldn't need any.  He moved over as I arranged the pillows,
and then I got down on my back, lifted my knees, and spread my legs a bit.
He moved around to kneel between my feet and reached between my legs and
under my knees.  He bent his arms so that his elbows hooked my knees and
leaned forward until his hands were right next to my shoulders.  This
spread my legs as much as possible, brought us face to face, and most
importantly brought me to a completely relaxed position while lifting my
bum off the bed to within striking distance.

It seems strange, but at this point we both paused for a confession.  He
told me that he didn't know if he was gay or not, but that he had done
this before (which I knew, thanks to Justin) and that this was going to be
a one-time thing.  He also insisted that we not talk about it and I never
tell anyone (but of course, anonymized accounts are OK ten years after the
fact).  I confessed that I had never been fucked before, and asked him to
be gentle.

He pressed forward slowly and I grabbed my cheeks, spreading them for his
arrival.  He inserted just the tip and then waited for me to relax.  Then
he slowly pushed into me, but just a bit at a time.  After a few more
nudges he was all the way in.  He asked me if I was OK and I nodded.  Then
the fucking began.  In and out, out and in.  Slow ones, fast ones.  He
popped out accidentally a few times, and other times he simply pulled back
until the very tip was almost out so that he could give me a full, firm,
hard thrust, slapping me with his balls.

After a while his arms started to get tired, so we got creative.  I had
him sit on a wooden chair I had in my room and I sat down facing him.  By
putting my feet on the edges of the chair I could lift myself off his lap
and then drop back down.  Then I tried sitting on his lap the other way,
but that didn't work out too well.  We did it  while both of us kneeled on
the floor, with him lying on the floor while I straddled his post, and
with him standing while I kneeled on the edge of the bed.  Eventually we
ended up back in the bed with him lying on his back and me sitting on him.

I wasn't sure about him, but I knew that *I* was close to blowing my load,
so I grabbed my sock and kept it handy.  Beer stains on his shirt would be
bad, but semen stains would be dangerous.

We had been passionately fucking for at least twenty minutes to a
half-hour and were both getting exhausted.  I made a proposal, and with
his permission I greased up my middle finger.  I lifted myself to take the
weight off his pelvis and he raised his bottom high enough for me to reach
under and slide the finger in.  He squirmed a bit, but eventually settled
down on my hand.  Once again I supported my weight with my feet so his
only sensation would be the heat and friction of our gyrations, and slid
up and down on his shaft while wriggling my finger against his prostate.
As with Justin, this immediately brought him right to the edge.  I slid my
sock over my own dick and started rubbing quickly.  I came almost
instantly.  My irregular motion, the contractions of my hole and the
tickle inside him conspired to bring him over the edge as well.  He let
out a large, long moan and squeezed hard against my finger as he erupted.

I did the gentlemanly thing, and allowed him to lie there while I got some
wet and dry towels to wash off the grease and sweat.

True to our words, we never talked about it again.  I never had any more
parties, and he never had a reason to visit.  Justin and I still find each
other now and then.  He's still attractive and coy, but somewhat less
willing to "play".  Trevor and I are best of friends, but that's all.
We're separated by distance as much as time, and that's harder to fix.

TTFN