Date: Mon, 16 May 2016 19:46:31 +0000 (UTC) From: simon peter Subject: Simon's Twenty-second Birthday Party Dear Reader This story, like many of my other stories, has elements that are based on real personal experiences. However, the names and places are all fictitious. If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so: simon23232@yahoo.com I would love to read your comments and suggestions. Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks. Simon Simon's Twenty-second Birthday Party By Simon Peter Note: This story is fictitious. I used the names Simon and Peter because I love those names. They are special to me and I thought I needed to use them. They do not refer to my pen-name, although I wish the events of this story were real for me. Unhappily, the story is the work of my own imagination based on an idea of a hundred-people birthday party given to me by one of my readers. Except that I couldn't think of 100 people! I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please share with me your comments and perhaps suggestions. Simon "I'm going to invite one hundred guys to my birthday party." Simon smiled as he watched the look his lover, Peter, gave him. "You have to be kidding me," Peter said, his eyes wide. "Nope. One hundred... and their partners," Simon added mischievously. Peter knew that Simon was a slut. But he loved the guy. They had been together for two months now and it seemed that they would stay together for a while longer, although Peter had caught Simon ogling guys that passed by. Simon was not the one to stick to one dick exclusively; he just slutted for cock, and Peter knew that and accepted it. "No way, Simes. Where are you going to get 100 guys? And where would they fit?" "They'll fit," Simon kept the smile. "Here. If they stay close to each other, that is," he laughed. The house was not that big, but it had a yard, a porch and a small swimming pool and Jacuzzi. They had moved into the house when they piled their incomes together. Simon had accumulated some money from the editing job he had, even after he paid his college tuition for a Masters in English. Peter was doing good money also in sales commission. "Come on, baby. There's no way that you can have so many people. Besides, where would you get the 100?" "Easy. There are 32 classmates." "But, Simes, half of them are chicks. And you don't know how many of the guys are gay." "People are people, Petey. Guys or chicks, all are welcome. And I do know about the guys, by the way, Four." Simon winked. "There are 4 gay guys in your class?" Peter asked. "Possibly more. These are the ones I did," Simon smiled, raising his eyebrows. "Man, you're such a slut. And the rest?" "Well, there are the guys at the gym, five. That's 37. Also, I will invite the neighbors. This way there will be no complaints about the noise and music. Eight younger ones. 45. Do you think we should invite the parents?" "Fuck, no. Are you crazy?" Simon laughed. "And you know these two guys that drive by in their private security cruiser? Them. One of them is cuter than cute. And the swimming pool cleaner, Miguel, the Mexican hunk. So that's 48." "How about the pizza delivery boy?" Peter said jokingly. "Oh, yes. 49." "You must be kidding, Simes. The pizza delivery guy?" "We did have some fun with him last week, didn't we? He gobbled on your dick like a siphon." Peter put up his hands in hopeless despair. "You're incorrigible." "Uuuuu, Big word, Petey. Bigger than your dick," Simon teased, grabbing at Peter's crotch. "Hey, man. Stop it. We just fucked a half an hour ago. And you loved being plowed by my big dick, didn't you? You even screamed for more." Robert was teasing back. But it was true. Simon was insatiable for cock once his ass was open, which was pretty often. "So? We can fuck again. Unless you're not man enough?" Simon kneaded the front of Peter's boxers, feeling the cock inside lengthen. "Oh, man, I'm so going to fuck you. Simon, I'm going so deep into you that your fucking bowels are going to eject out of your fucking mouth." "Promises, promises," Simon said, squeezing on the now erecting penis. He loved Robert's penis. He was crazy about Robert's penis. Actually, among the men who fucked him, Robert was the best. And that was saying much! "You're still way behind your hundred," Peter said as he looked down and watched Simon making him erect. "There's eight from the office. How many in your office can you invite?" Simon said, snaking his hand inside the boxers fly, finding the semi-erect cock and pulling on it. "Oh, man, fuck," Peter breathed deeply, arching his back as he felt Simon's hand around his dick. "Ten. I can get ten," he said in a voice turning husky. Simon could do this to him. He could get him hard and willing even seconds after he ejaculated. "Ok, then 18," Simon said, feeling the erection harden in the palm of his hand. Oh, yea, he loved Peter's cut, mushroomed cock. "Plus 49, that's what? 67. Great. All we need is 33 more." "How about the football and basketball and rugby teams while you're at it?" Peter managed to joke as he humped Simon's hand. "Fuck, yea, reminds me: the guys from the gym. Four. And the massage guys: 2. And my tennis partner: 1. Ok, 74." Simon knelt in front of Peter, fished out the hard rod, and kissed the cut knob. Peter moaned. He wasn't counting anymore. But he was sure that Simon, now working the knob with his lips and tongue, would get a hundred and more. "Suck my dick, Simon," Peter moaned. Simon looked up. "And remember those four guys we met at the bar?" he said as he stroked the hard cock, licking the underside of the ridge, managing to speak at the same time. "Suck my fucking dick, man," Peter thrust his hips forward. "78," Simon said before he resumed taking Peter's cock between his lips. He dove down on the shaft and swallowed all the way, pursing his lips around the base. Peter almost passed out. He placed both hands on Simon's head and pushed harder, almost driving his balls into the hungry mouth. "Not to forget my study group," Simon gurgled as he got off the throbbing cock. "Five." "Oh, I'm going to fuck you." Peter was so horny that he couldn't understand what Simon was talking about. He grabbed Simon, pulled down his shorts, lifted his ass, and drove in, with force. "83," Simon managed to say, inhaling, as Peter's cock split his now sore ass from the earlier fucking. "I need 17 more." Peter thrust hard and deep. "Keep counting, bitch," Peter plowed faster, holding onto Simon's hair, riding him like a dog, pulling his head back. "Count, you hot fuck." Simon grunted under Peter's thrusts. "Eigh... eighty th.. th.. three. My six ex-lovers, th... th... ahhh... those still in town... ahh... fuck, yea Petey, baby, deeper you hot fucker. eighty-fucking-nine." Peter exploded with a vengeance. He felt his nuts following his semen out of his buried cock, spewing deep into Simon. "Ohgodohgodohgoooooddddd!" he screamed as squirt after squirt shot out of him. Peter dropped back on his ass, heaving from the intensity of his ejaculation. Simon turned around and took the dripping cock into his mouth, sending further sensations through Peter's body. "I need eleven more," Simon slobbered on the cock, looking up into Peter's eyes. "Just eleven." "Keep sucking, you little fuck-shit," Peter ordered. Simon swallowed the slimy cock to the base. "I will ask my ex," Peter managed to say. "Ninety," Simon held the cock in the palm of his hand, licking the sweat off Peter's taught belly and stomach. "Ten more, baby." They kissed, tasting cum. "We can call our parents," Simon joked and Peter slapped his butt. Simon couldn't get the ten more to reach one hundred, so they settled for ninety. The party was going to be the following Saturday, 7 May, Simon's 22nd birthday. Ninety people with their partners would crowd the house; that was for sure. The party was in full swing. Simon dressed in white cotton pants, showing red string jocks underneath, accentuating his butt, and a red cotton top, Indian style. He wore sandals. He tied his pony tail pulling his long hair straight back from his face, showing his handsome, somewhat feminine features. He bustled around, full of smiles and drinks, and finger foods, which every one of the invitees brought with them. Peter, on the other hand, looked straighter than straight, groomed, short hair, blue jeans, a bit tight on the crotch, white buttoned-down shirt, with one button open at the neck. Just a regular, handsome, straight boy. Simon had unbuttoned the top two buttons, showing Peter's patch of hair. "You're so fucking sexy," Simon mooned as he fondled the dark, curly chest hairs. Everyone was enjoying the party, crowded, noisy, but full of joy. There were people out on the swimming pool/Jacuzzi deck, in the yard, and all over the house. Simon had sent to each of the three neighboring houses a bouquet of flowers, a bottle of wine, and a basket of cheese, apologizing for the noise that he anticipated the party would make, appeasing the neighbors. "So fucking thoughtful of you, babe," Peter had exclaimed, planting a wet kiss on Simon's lips. "Thoughtful is my middle name," Simon had laughed, licking his lower lip. "You're still a slut," Peter had joked, slapping Simon's butt. Around ten-thirty, the music stopped. People hushed down in anticipation. Out of the speakers boomed: tum-ta ta-ra-taa. "Baby take off your coat, reeeeaaaal slow." Joe Cocker rumbled his "You can you're your hat on." Three hot young men in tight clothes entered the living room, making people form a circle around them. The men were model-handsome, both in face and in body. Slowly, to the music, they started to strip. Peter pulled Simon to the front row. "Happy birthday, baby," he whispered in Simon's ear and kissed his neck, holding him from behind. Simon was speechless, his mouth hung open, his eyes glued onto the hot bodies getting naked right there in front of him. Peter pressed on him, encircled his arms around Simon's waist, licked the back of his ear and neck. Simon melted in his lover's arms. The crowd was clapping and singing along, some reaching over and patting Simon on the shoulder. "You give me reason to live, you give me reason to live," Cocker went on in his ultra-sexy, masculine, grating voice. There were tears in Simon's eyes and an erection in his jockeys. When the strippers got down to bare torsos and started to unbutton the fronts of their jeans to the screams of girls and whistles of guys, one of them found Peter and winked. Peter nodded. The stripper approached Simon and pulled him over to their middle. The three boys then started to strip Simon, their hands all over him, their bodies rubbing on him. Simon almost swooned. The strippers went all out on Simon. He felt the caressing hands, the wet lips, the pressing bulges. His whole body was electrified. He felt he was going to shoot his load right there, in his undies. They pulled off his Indian top. Sandwiching Simon, the three hot guys, now in jockey briefs, grinded on him, fondled his nipples, licked at his neck, pressed on him, gyrating to the music. "You can leave your hat on," the crowd chanted along with Cocker. Slowly, the taller stripper pushed Simon down. Weakly, Simon slid onto his knees, the stripper's crotch in his face. He reached out and grabbed the crotch, feeling the meat inside. "Go, baby, go," he faintly heard Peter's voice among the clapping and whooping. The stripper thrust his hips forward and Simon met him halfway, burying his face in the handsome crotch. To everyone's surprise-except Peter-the stripper pulled down his jockeys. The guy was hung. At least five inches of soft cock snaked down. Simon gulped him into his mouth in an instant, closing his eyes, savoring the satiny skin. The two other strippers were kissing, pulling down each other's jockeys, grinding on each other. Simon's mouth was full. He gulped and sucked and the cock hardened in his mouth, pushing deep into his throat. Simon was a good cocksucker. He swallowed what seemed like 10 inches of meat. The two other strippers, now totally naked and erected, also hung, pulled Simon off the tall guy's dick. Simon looked around, noticing the looks of those in the front row, wide-eyed, both male and female, surprised at Simon's ability to swallow the whole ten inches of man meat. Some couples in the back had started to make out. Peter had a wide grin on his face, as if to say, "Hey, people, this is my guy, my guy." Simon was engulfed between the three naked males. He was lost among hard cocks, fondling hands, licking tongues, and kissing lips. One of the strippers squatted behind him and pulled down the white cotton pants to the cheers and whistles and cat-calls of the crowd. The other stripper slid his hand down Simon's front and grabbed his dick while the first one was biting and licking his ass. Simon bent and took the tall stripper's ten inches again in his mouth and went at it, swallowing, slurping, licking, as sensations from his groin and his butt cheeks wracked his body with lust. Suddenly, without warning, Simon stood up and moved away from the strippers. There were aww's and ohh's from all around. But instead of leaving, he reached to Peter and pulled him back into the center. The crowd cheered. Peter had had a couple of beers, and the scene with Simon and the three hot men made him horny as ever. Simon started to strip him and he couldn't resist. A few of the girls moaned with appreciation as Simon pulled Peter's shirt off, baring his sexy man chest. Simon worked the jeans, pulled them down, followed by the boxers. Peter's cock stood at attention and Simon grabbed for it, kissing, licking, sucking. Peter looked so handsome, so male, so straight, in contrast to Simon's camp. The strippers joined the couple, and the mass of five naked male bodies, of cocks and mouths and hands moved as if one body. The cheers of the crowd were reaching frenzy level, when Peter pushed Simon on fours and entered him, doggy. The taller stripper fed his ten-incher to Simon's gaping mouth, who took him with gusto. The other two went down under the fucking couple, sucking on Peter's swinging balls as he thrust in and out of Simon's ass and Simon's dripping dick, hard and throbbing. The climax was out of this world. Already, there were other couples fucking and sucking, on the couches, on the carpet, on the dining table, out in the pool and the Jacuzzi, on the grass in the yard. It was the orgy of orgies. Peter emptied gallons of semen inside Simon. When he pulled out, one of the strippers took his place behind Simon's exposed butt. Unlike Peter, he had slipped a condom onto his thick dick, and using Peter's semen as lube, he entered Simon. Simon took the fucking and sucking in a euphoria of sex. He could tell that someone other than Peter was fucking him. The tall stripper feeding him was close to cumming. Simon could feel the guy's nuts shrink into his scrotum ready to explode. Taking him deep into his throat, pulling on his balls, Simon felt the guy squirting straight into his stomach. As the last squirt hit the back of his mouth, another hard cock replaced the spent one. The third stripper moved in front of him and fed him. Simon nursed as his ass burned with rock hard cock-fucking. As soon as the guy behind him froze and exploded, he stroked himself. He hadn't dared touch himself before for fear of cumming too soon. But now, he couldn't take it any longer. He squirted on the floor under him as the guy who was feeding him shot his load into his mouth. He savored every second knowing that this would never be repeated. As Simon lay on the floor, totally spent, his dick dripping juice, his mouth full of man cum, his ass seeping Peter's semen, Peter entered the room carrying a 4-layered cake with 22 lit candles on top. "Simon, baby, happy birthday." All joined in "For he's a jolly good fellow" as Simon beamed, naked. The three strippers stood around him, also naked. They were beautiful, all flushed and sweaty after their fucking. "Simon," Peter clapped for attention. "Party isn't over yet." Simon raised his eyebrows, flutters in his stomach. How could the fuck session he had just had be topped? "Baby," Peter continued as the room hushed, "for every candle you blow, you have to blow a guy. You have to make him cum in your mouth before you can blow another candle." Twenty-two. Oh, Simon wished he was 92. He clapped his hands, very camp now, and chose a hunk of a guy, still clothed, a girl's arm wrapped around his waist. He blew out the first candle, and then pulled the guy over to middle. He fished out the guy's cock, soft, and sucked him to erection among the cheers and whoops. Simon could hear the guy's girlfriend cheering him on as well. As the guy erected in Simon's mouth, he looked down at Simon and said: "You know, Simon, Gwenda never agreed to blow me. This is a first." Simon sucked and gobbled. The guy ejaculated, hard. Every one cheered. Other guys were lining up, both straight and gay. To Simon, there was no difference: a cock was a cock, there to nurse on. Simon blew the second candle, sucked the second cock to orgasm. Third, and fourth, to twenty-two. If Simon were to throw up, the liquid coming out of his stomach would have been sperm-laden, creamy and white. "All this sperm," someone said, tucking his spent dick into his pants. "Wow!" Simon's twenty-second birthday was the talk of the town for weeks.