This is the fifty-eighth chapter of an ongoing series. I have appreciated all the comments, questions and encouragement I've received from readers and hope to continue hearing from you. I try to answer all messages promptly. If I'm slow at times it is only because of the pressure of work or my somewhat demanding travel schedule.
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Another group of men was arriving at Dexter Cohen's party. Some of these new guests were coming around the south side of the house, the way Roger and I had come. A few were approaching from around the other end and a small but steady flow come through the house itself, exiting onto the terrace above the lawn.
It was a little after five o'clock on Saturday afternoon and there seemed to be at least a hundred men at the party with more arriving all the time. When Roger and I had arrived there was a clear distinction between a group of young men in their twenties and an equal number of older men, all of whom seemed to be in their late forties or older, some probably in their late sixties.
As the afternoon went on the gap was filled by men in their thirties and early forties until there was a fairly even distribution of ages. Some of the older men still sat together by the far side of the pool, close to the bar and within easy viewing distance of the fun and games going on in the pool.
Hard, handsome, young men splashed and played in the sparkling pool, the water running off their well developed bodies. It was a beautiful and erotic sight for anyone who loved male beauty.
Elsewhere on the huge lawn groups of men were engaged in other games, some playing croquet, others volleyball. Still others were just standing around in groups chatting. Here and there two or three guys had spread out towels on the grass and were sunbathing. There was a charged atmosphere everywhere.
An increasing number of the men were nude, especially the sunbathers, although it looked to me as if many if not all the guys in the pool were naked. Most of those who were willing, even anxious, to show off their bodies were young but a few of the older men in good physical shape had also removed their shorts or swimming suits and were letting it all show.
Almost all the rest of the men were wearing only swimming suits of some sort, ranging from the briefest thongs to full, floppy trunks. Everywhere you looked there was a proliferation of exposed male torsos, most muscular and well defined, but some older and in less honed condition. Most were smooth, but there were a few of the Hairy Bear variety. Only a few of the men, mostly the older ones, wore shorts or slacks and shirts.
To my right there was an outburst of laughter as one of the younger guys ran naked across the lawn, being squirted by another naked guy with some sort of water gun. Maybe Roger had been right in calling Dex's party an orgy; at least it seemed to be heading in that direction. I looked to my left where Roger now lay naked on his chaise lounge, slowly spreading sun lotion over his stunning body.
"You're kind of an exhibitionist, aren't you?" I teased.
"Yeah, given the right circumstances," Roger said with a wry grin, then added, "besides, I don't like tan lines."
"So what is the etiquette about going bare-ass around here?" I asked.
"No rules, so far as I know, just do whatever feels comfortable."
I stood up, pulled off my Speedos and dove into the deep end of the pool.
The pool was still a little crowded and some sort of game vaguely like water polo was still going on. Ten or twelve guys were bounding back and forth from one end of the pool to the other as they tossed a blue plastic beach ball about the size of a basketball. There was a lot of laughing and cheering and quite a bit of body contact.
At the moment I'd gotten into the pool, the action was at the other end, but within seconds I was caught up in the fray as the guys all come bounding down toward my end.
"You playing?" a dark haired guy called out as they rushed toward me.
"Do you need another player?" I called back.
"Sure, the more the merrier."
"How do you tell who's on your team?"
"No teams, just every man for himself."
At that point the ball landed a couple of feet in front of me, splashing water into my eyes so for a few seconds I could hardly see. I instinctively reached for the ball, and in good football form, pulled it to my chest and started toward the far end of the pool.
I hadn't made it more than six or eight feet before I was attacked by three or four guys who simultaneously pushed me under and pulled me down from below. I got a good breath just before I went under and held on to the ball.
There was a lot of thrashing and grabbing and I felt at least two guys groping my crotch. We all came up laughing and spurting but I still had the ball.
I did a quick roll and broke away from the pack. Holding the ball against my chest with my left hand, I started off again toward the shallow end of the pool, doing a sort of lopsided one armed side stroke.
Somehow I got just far enough ahead of the pack. When I was about ten feet from the far end, I heard several voices shouting at once. "Toss the ball, man, hit the end of the pool," they were yelling, or some variant of those directions.
I grabbed the ball in both hands and threw it against the stone copping with more force than I intended. It hit the wall and bounced back over my head to be retrieved by one of the guys a few feet behind me and to my left.
There was a cheer and the guy who'd first asked me to play called out, "hey, what's your name?"
"Rob," I called back.
There was another cheer and the dark haired guy yelled, "one point for Rob." The whole gang of guys swept over and around me in pursuit of the guy who'd caught the ball and I noticed for the fist time that all of us were nude.
As the others bounded after the fellow
with the ball, the guy who'd asked my name held back long enough to say,
"hey, Rob, I'm Jack."
The game went on and on. From time to time one guy would wear out and get out of the pool to rest, but there were others joining the fray all the time so the numbers seemed to stay about the same. I managed to gain control of the ball two more times and both times I scored. After I'd made my second point, almost exhausted, I retired and pulled myself up on the side of the pool as the gang of thrashing bodies moved away.
As I stretched out next to Roger he smiled and said, "looking good."
"Gee, coach, do you think I'll make the varsity team?" I laughed.
"You're a shoe in," he said, "now how about some lotion?"
"Sure," I said, reaching for the bottle.
"No, I get to spread it."
"Oh," I said, "you'd better be careful or I'm going to embarrass both of us."
"How? Getting a hard-on?"
"Yeah, I respond very quickly to being touched."
"Good," Roger grinned, again doing the bad Groucho Marx imitation. "I'd love to see you at full mast."
"Don't kid, Roger, you start touching me and my cock will stand at attention in record time."
"Well, why don't you roll over on your stomach and let me stroke your buns."
"Just my buns?"
"Oh, I'll grease up your whole back but you butt needs it most."
"Yeah, I guess," I agreed, remembering how little sun my ass had seen over the last couple of weeks. Memories of being at the cabin with Rick, and thoughts of my date to go skinny dipping with Hank the following Monday popped into my mind.
I turned over and Roger squirted lotion onto the small of my back. It felt cool, almost cold at first but he quickly spread it around, working it over my rear and with no hesitation, deep into the crack of my ass. His fingers ran over the bud of my hole, causing me to shiver at his touch.
Roger chuckled at my response to his caress and said, "are you a little sensitive there?"
"Yeah, I guess so. I guess you don't want me going any deeper with a bunch of guys looking on."
I laughed, in part to cover my discomfort at his boldness. "I think you went deep enough. Why don't you do my back and shoulders now."
He leaned down so his mouth was almost against my right ear and whispered, "I'd be glad to do any part of you, Rob, any part you want."
My face felt hot and I knew I was blushing. I was glad, lying the way I was, nobody was likely to see my embarrassment. I couldn't believe how provocative Roger was being, but I had to admit, I was enjoying his skilled, sensual touch. He squeezed more lotion onto my back and moved over me so he could use both hands instead of just one.
Within another minute or so he'd spread the lotion over my back and shoulders and down over my legs. I lay quietly on the lounge reveling in the enjoyment of his gentle massage. I found myself drifting off into a contented doze, if not a deeper sleep as the party ebbed and flowed around us.
"Are you getting hungry, Rob," Roger said softly, rousing me from my nap.
I woke to the aroma of barbecue and the sounds of soft Latin music.
"Um," I said, rolling over just a little. I wanted to determine the state of my cock before I turned over completely. "What time is it?"
"A little after seven, I think. I sort of lost track, too."
After checking on my anatomy, I sat up and looked around. My cock was extended to its full length but it wasn't really hard. I had the feeling, though, that it had been. I wondered if I'd been having a lively dream, but if so, couldn't remember anything about it. Maybe it was just the environment to which my body was responding, all the hunky guys and the lingering expectation that something really wild might occur at any moment.
The number of men on the lawn and around the pool had increased, perhaps almost doubled. The new arrivals seemed to be mostly older men who were wearing the older men's costume of slacks or walking shorts, and shirts. I didn't see a bare chest among them and no chests I'd have really wanted to see bare.
Roger had put his swimming suit back on and I followed his lead, pulling on my Speedos and adjusting the goods so I looked more or less presentable.
"They are serving food over at the grills," Roger said. When I looked the way he indicated, toward the rear of the house and to the right of the cabanas, I saw that a long line of tables had been sat up. There were big grills behind them and half a dozen men serving what appeared from our distance to be a vast assortment of food.
Festive strands of white lights had come on in the trees around the edge of the lawn. A trio of musicians was playing on the verandah and the crowd of men swirled in a sort of disorganized circle from the serving tables to the verandah and back onto the lawn.
"I need to find a rest room before I eat," I said.
"Go into the cabana," Roger said. "I'll wait for you."
As I walked across the lawn toward the dressing rooms I was greeted by half a dozen men, some young, some old, but all of them rather overtly looking me over.
As I opened the door to the men's side of the cabanas, where Roger and I had changed, I heard soft rhythmic moans, which could only mean that somewhere near by guys were having sex.
"Yeah, harder," I heard a male voice say as I came around the corner and approached the big shower stall.
Two guys about my own age were fucking. A slender guy with light brown hair was bent forward with his hands braced against the tile wall as a second bigger blonder guy stood behind him, ramming his hard cock into the smaller guy's ass.
I stood for several seconds transfixed by the sight and felt my own cock harden within my Speedos as I watched.
The smaller guy had his ass stuck back and was clearly enjoying the pounding he was getting. The bigger guy had his hands on the smaller man's hips, holding him tightly and adjusting the angle of his entry so he could take full advantage of his long, hard cock. It looked wet and shiny as it slid slowly from the smaller guy's ass, visible for a split second before it rammed back in at a punishing speed.
"Yeah," the smaller guy moaned again.
The guy doing the fucking looked over toward me and smiled. "You want a piece of this?" he growled.
"No thanks, but I sure like spectator sports," I smiled back. I wondered if they minded me watching but figured they didn't or they would have chosen a less public place.
"Suit yourself," he said, looking me over. His eyes rested on my cock, which was obviously hard and outlined behind the tight fabric of my swimming suite. "It looks like you're enjoying the show."
"Yeah," I said. "You guys are so hot."
"Well, Steve here sure has one tight ass," the bigger guy said. "I'll pull out and let you have a few strokes if you want."
"No, not now," I said again and turned to look for the toilets.
When I came back out and found Roger he was talking with one of the older men.
"Rob, this is Thomas Patterson," he said, "Thomas, Rob Ballinger."
Patterson shook my hand, looking me over at the same time. "Pleased to meet you, Rob. Martin Basingstoke says you're a rising star."
"Well, not in the on-camera sense," I smiled.
When he'd left us Roger said, "you okay, Rob? You look a little flustered."
"There were two guys fucking in the shower," I said.
"Yeah? Was it hot?" Roger laughed
"Yeah, it was," I said, grinning despite myself.
"So did you just watch?"
"Yeah, I was invited to join in but I passed."
"Well, you probably made the right
Roger and I walked toward the serving area just as Dexter Cohen spotted us and came over to greet us again.
"I lost track of you guys," he said, taking Roger's arm and guiding us toward the tables. "Get yourselves some food and come join me over by the cabana."
The serving tables were overflowing with elegantly arranged salads of just about every conceivable variety. We moved along the line, adding small portions which collectively added up to a huge a meal. At the far end of the line two men in chef's outfits were serving steaks and chicken.
With our plates brimming, we made our way over to the table which served as a bar. We both took glasses of red wine. Sidney was still there and as Roger moved on ahead the bartender motioned to me. "Here's my number," he said, handing me a small card. "Give me a ring if you'd like to get together." I smiled and moved on.
Roger had said Sidney was looking me over and I should ask him for his phone number, just to see if he was really interested. I'd forgotten what Roger had said, but I guess he'd been right. Without anyplace else to put it, I slid the card down into the elastic band of my Speedos, picked up my wine glass and moved on.
Roger and I went on toward the cabana and were directed to chairs beside Dex, who seemed to be holding court for half a dozen older man and a couple of guys my age, one of whom was Jack, the dark haired guy from the swimming pool. I saw he was sitting by the older man who'd introduced himself as Roy when Roger and I first arrived.
Of those of us at the table, only Jack and Roger and I were bare-chested and I was able to confirm what I'd thought earlier. Jack was one great looking guy. He had a hard, cut body. He looked as if he was into some serious body building and he had a smile to die for.
The older man all wore polo shirt or some other sort of sport shirt. Dex had changed from the shorts and robe he'd been wearing when we arrived and was now decked out in a pair of plaid knee length shorts and a bright yellow open collared shirt.
"The money's in the distribution, gentlemen. We have to control production, of course, but it's in the theaters where the money has to be made. If we can't market the product, we might just as well give up and let the TV networks have the whole lot."
The conversation went on and on and even Roger seemed bored. I ate silently, listening but not participating in the discussion. When I finished eating I sat back and looked across the table, where Jack was rather blatantly watching me.
"Ready for some dessert?" He asked, giving me a smile which made my heart jump.
"Sure," I said to Jack then, turning to Roger, said, "do you want anything?"
"Would you grab me a cup of coffee?" he asked.
"Yeah, just black coffee, I can't handle the sweets."
Jack and I left the table and walked together toward a separate buffet where half a dozen desserts were elegantly displayed.
"So do you work for NSB?" he asked as we eyed the choices.
"Yeah, sort of," I said. "I'll be starting a graduate program at USC in the fall."
"Hey," he responded, "are you one of the new Nathan Fellows?"
"Yeah, I am," I said, feeling rather
embarrassed by his obvious awe.
"Man, I'd have loved to study film."
"What do you do, Jack?"
"Oh, I just keep house for Rock," he grinned, "that and keep him happy."
"Yeah, you know."
"I thought his name was Roy."
Then, of course, it clicked and I felt like a complete idiot. Of course he looked familiar, just older than I remembered from the last films I'd seen him in.
"Have you been with him long?"
"A couple of years," Jack said. Then he smiled again and added, "actually, that's longer than any of his previous boys."
I chose a slice of cheese cake for myself and tried to carry two cups of coffee.
"Let me help," Jack said, taking the cake. As we walked back to the table he asked, "what about the man you're with?"
"He was one of my professors at Ole Miss," I said.
"So are you guys together?"
I first thought he was asking if Roger and I had come together to Dex's party and then realized what he meant.
"No, just friends," I said.
"Great looking guy," Jack said, smiling at me again. "I saw you guys lying side by side a while ago and got a hard-on just thinking about the two of you together."
I think I blushed but the light was getting dim and he didn't seem to notice.
We reached the table and I set the coffee cups down by Roger's place and mine, then thanked Jack for his help as I took the cheese cake from him. He smiled again and walked back around the table to his seat.
As he sat down he leaned over and whispered something in his companion's ear and then they both looked over at Roger and me and smiled. I couldn't help wondering what Jack had said.
At one point a little later Roger turned to me and whispered, "I guess if we're going to get into a wrestling match, it will have to be another time."
"Good," I whispered back. "You might be an exhibitionist, given the right circumstances, but I'm not sure I am."
He turned to me and grinned. "Well, there's London to look forward to."
"Yeah," I responded, not knowing what more to say.
"What would you say to getting out of here?"
"Yeah, any time."
Without hesitation, Roger turned to Dex and said, "I think I need to get this boy home."
"Past his bedtime?" Dex said with a grin.
"Well, Dex," Roger smiled, "I certainly
To be continued.