I’ve gotta say, once you’ve made your roommate cum, and once he’s returned the favor, the vibe in your apartment definitely changes. Not that I should’ve been surprised!
Hunter and I stopped caring if we saw each other naked. After all, we’d gotten closeup views of our cocks and balls in action: so if one of us undressed before bed, or if the other got out of the shower and didn’t want to put on a towel, neither one of us batted an eye.
One night Hunter brought home a girl, but he didn’t manage to get in her pants. He didn’t seem overly concerned though: as soon as she was gone, he whipped out his cock, and he took care of his own needs.
It did take time for me to fully get used to this. I was so conditioned to jacking off in secret, it was second nature for me to lock the door behind me, or to wait till I was home alone. Hunter didn’t do any of that, so I found himself walking in on him almost every day. At first I let him do his own thing, but before long, I was joining him on a regular basis. Not to mention the times when Kyle joined us too.
One day the three of us we were lying on the couch, having just finished a sesh, when Kyle cleared his throat. “You know,” he said to me, “now that you’ve gotten your feet wet, we should take you to Fappers.”
“Fappers?” I asked. “What’s that?”
“San Diego Fappers,” Hunter said. “It’s a bate club.”
“A what?”
“They have them in different cities,” Kyle said. He picked up the towel Hunter had laid out, and he started wiping the cum off his abs. “Have you heard of New York Jacks?”
“Not exactly,” I said.
“It’s basically the O.G. bate club,” Kyle said. “All the other clubs are modeled after it. All over the world.”
“Uh huh,” I said. “So what goes on at these clubs?”
Hunter chuckled. “Take a wild guess,” he said as he followed Kyle’s lead and toweled himself off. “They’re getting to be a hot ticket. The last few times we’ve gone, they’ve had least fifty or sixty guys there.”
“A sixty-man orgy?”
“Not exactly an orgy,” Kyle said. “Since it’s specifically a bate party, there’s no sucking or fucking allowed. But yeah, it’s a good-sized crowd, and some places are even bigger. I went to a club in Seattle that had over a hundred show up. And L.A. has gotten so popular that they’re meeting two or three times a week.”
“Holy shit.”
“Like I said,” Hunter said, “guys love jacking off.”
I couldn’t argue with that, and I had to admit I was intrigued. I knew I couldn’t bring myself to go a place like that alone… but if I had a buddy to show me around, well, maybe?
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea of these guys showing me around. At the same time, I still felt pretty nervous: their bate party was that Sunday, and I found myself counting down the days.
“So,” I said the morning of, “should we… I dunno… get a drink before?”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Hunter said. “They’re drug- and alcohol-free. Not that they’d turn you away after one drink—”
“I mean—”
“Trust me,” he said, “you’ll be fine sober.”
I tried to tell myself that Hunter would know, and that I should go with his recommendation. But deep down, I was still on pins and needles.
When the time came, Kyle picked us up and drove us to a place near the airport. We parked on a side street, then walked to a divey-looking place called the Cockpit. I was about to go in the main entrance, but Kyle and Hunter guided me to an alley in back. They led me down to a basement door with a call box.
Hunter typed a code into the call box. The door let off a buzz, Hunter pulled it open, and we all stepped inside.
We got to a little reception area. A goateed guy sat behind a desk, and he waved to Hunter and Kyle. “Oh hey,” he said. “Where’ve you been?”
“Working,” Kyle said.
“You should tell Thaxter to give you the time off. Tell him it’s important.”
“Ha!” Kyle said.
The goateed guy turned to Hunter. “What’s your excuse?” he asked.
“I told you I had plans last week,” Hunter said.
“Uh-huh. Where’s your money?”
“Here,” Kyle said as he and Hunter handed the goateed guy some cash. “We’ll cover the newbie.”
“That’s generous of you,” the goateed guy said as he took the money and counted out their change. Then he looked at me. “Have these fools told you the rules?”
“They gave me an overview,” I said.
“Good,” he replied. “The most important ones are the same as at any other bate club: no lips below the hips, and nothing goes inside anybody’s anything.”
“Okay,” I said.
“Touching is okay as long as it’s consensual, so if you want to do it, make sure you ask. Except there’s no touching anyone’s butthole, including your own.”
“Right.”
The goateed guy kept going without missing a beat. “What happens here stays here,” he said, “and that includes who you see here. You’ll need to lock up your phone, since there’s no photography and no recording of any kind.”
I hadn’t been planning to take pictures anyway, so I wasn’t about to object. I just nodded.
“When you’re about to cum,” he said, “make sure you say so. Don’t just moan or whatever. You can shoot on yourself, on the floor, or on covered furniture. Only bust on someone else if they specifically consent, and never near their mouth or their hole. And once you’ve finished, make sure to clean up.”
“O-of course,” was all I could say. The instructions were a lot to process, but I tried not to let that show.
“Most importantly, have fun,” he said, “and let me know if there’s anything we can do.”
“Sounds good,” I replied.
With that, the goateed guy buzzed us into a door, and we stepped into a small locker room. Hunter and Kyle clearly knew the drill, since they each opened a locker and started taking off their clothes. I followed their lead, and the next thing I knew, our cocks, balls, and asses were once again on full display.
“Keep your shoes on,” Kyle said.
“Okay,” I said, and I did as I was told. It felt a little weird to be wearing footwear and nothing else, but here too, I figured Kyle and Hunter knew what they were doing.
Each locker had a key attached to an armband. So once we were ready, we locked up our clothes and put the key around our arms. Then we stepped through another doorway into the main space.
The lighting was pretty dark, so it took a second for my eyes to adjust. I saw a handful of naked guys sitting on a couch, all stroking their cocks. The guys were a range of different shapes, sizes, and body types. Most of them had their eyes locked on each other’s dicks.
I was tempted to sit down, but Kyle motioned for me to follow him. He didn’t say a word as he showed me around. The space was divided into three sections separated by curtains, and each section was outfitted with chairs, beds, and other furniture. There was also a bar area that offered water, snacks, and mouthwash free for the taking, plus a clock so we could keep track of time. Most of those peripheral areas were empty, though I did see a dude in a Padres hat jacking off in a corner. A few feet away was a guy in a cock ring, lubing himself up.
Hunter opted to join the main crowd. He sat down on the couch and started stroking himself. A Black muscle guy was sitting beside him, and I couldn’t help noticing how the two of them kept exchanging glances.
I went to lube myself up, and I grabbed a jar that looked like Albolene at first. Then I realized it was a brown jar with a black lid, labeled “Bator Balm.” I’d never heard that name before, but I rubbed a little on my dick, and sure enough, it felt great— and with that, I started working my cock.
After a minute, I heard a buzzer, and I realized someone else had just been let past the reception desk. I kept my eyes on the locker room, waiting to see who the newcomer might be. I was a little worried that it might be someone I knew, though I kept telling myself that everyone at that club was there for the same reason.
A moment later, a guy walked into the main space. He was naked like the rest of us, except he was wearing a necklace with a crucifix, and I couldn’t help noticing the wedding ring on his hand. At first I waited for someone else to follow him— maybe a husband or something— but no one did.
The other bators didn’t seem to bat an eye. The married guy walked past the main group, then sat with the two in the corner. The two guys gave him a friendly nod, as if they were old buds.
I couldn’t help wondering what that was all about. I would’ve loved to know how many times the married guy had been there, and whether his significant other knew about it. I imagined this dude might be one of those suburban types, with a corporate job and a wife and kids. Yet here he was, masturbating with the rest of us.
For the first few minutes, nobody said a word, at least not that I could hear. Everybody just worked their cocks as they took in the sights.
Then another guy came out of the locker room. He was a White muscle guy, basically like an Abercrombie model: tall and good-looking, with six-pack abs and a big thick cock.
The Black muscle guy went in for the kill. He got up from the couch, made a beeline for the White guy, and took the White guy’s cock in his hands. Then the two of them started making out.
“Bloody brilliant,” another guy said in a lilting British accent.
From where I was sitting, I had a clear view of the White muscle guy’s ass. His glutes were as thick as you’d expect, and they flexed with every movement of his body. He stood there for a minute, then led the Black muscle guy over to a bed. Then both guys laid down and started frotting.
The British guy kept his eyes fixed on the muscle guys. At first he stayed on the couch, but then he got up to get a better view. A redheaded guy followed them, and they both stood over the bed as they jacked off to the muscle guys going at it.
One by one, the rest of the guys started to pair off. One guy started playing with Hunter’s dick, while Kyle started stroking the guy to his left. But nobody seemed interested in playing with me, at least not for the moment.
I walked over to the bed, and I took a position near the British guy. The muscle guys were all over each other, both rock hard as they writhed around on the bed. It seemed like they were about to fuck, though they resisted the urge.
I kept masturbating as I watched the show. Then, after a few minutes, I realized the British guy had inched closer to me. He was still jacking off to the muscle guys, but then he shot me a look, and our eyes met.
The British guy was silent for a moment, but then he looked at my cock and licked his lips. “Can I touch you?” he asked.
I didn’t know how to respond. “I-I… yeah,” I found myself saying.
With that, the British guy put his hand on my cock and started massaging my shaft. I figured I should return the favor, so I reached down and started stroking him too.
“This is my first time here,” I said without thinking.
“No worries mate,” he said. “We’ve all had a first time here.” Then he started pinching my nipples.
“Oh fuck,” I said.
“You like that?”
I looked in his eyes and smiled. He smiled right back, then leaned in to me. The next thing I knew, his lips met mine, and his tongue made his way into my mouth.
So there I was, making out with a guy I’d never met, whose name I didn’t even know, while he worked my cock and I worked his. All while the muscle guys were pleasuring each other in front of of us.
We kept going like that for a while. But we didn’t want to cum too soon, so we alternated jerking and making out.
Eventually the Black muscle guy started moaning, and his body started writhing. The White muscle guy laid flat on the bed and played with the Black guy’s balls. A minute later, the Black guy’s moans hit a crescendo, and his dick started shooting all over the White guy.
The British guy’s lips separated from mine, and I heard him utter the word “fuck.” He aimed his cock toward the muscle guys, and his body went rigid. Then he nutted right on top of the Black guy’s load.
Now the White guy was dripping with cum. “Oh fuck yeah,” he said. Then he looked at me. “Are you gonna cum too?”
I wanted to say yes, but I could see the clock from where I was standing, so I knew the party still had a ways to go. “I wanna keep going,” I said.
“I’m close,” the redhead said as he pounded himself faster and faster.
“Then get over here,” the White muscle guy said.
The redhead did as he was told, and he positioned himself above the bed. The White muscle guy looked up at the redhead’s dick, waiting for it to erupt.
I had to force myself to take my hands off my own cock. I just stood there and watched the show.
“I’m cumming!” the redhead gasped, right as his dick exploded. Rope after rope shot onto the White guy, mostly on his chest, but partly on his face.
By now the Black guy was heading for the exit. I saw his ass flex with each step as he stepped through the door to the locker room. Then, without another word, he was gone.
Hunter was standing by the bar and pouring himself a cup of water. I walked up to him, and he shot me a grin. “How do you like it so far?”
“I… I mean it’s a lot….”
“That’s the idea,” Hunter said. “You want a water too?”
“Sure,” I said. The water cooler looked just like the one at my work, and Hunter was acting as casual as one of my co-workers. That did seem a little surreal, considering how many guys were jacking off around us.
“Here you go,” Hunter said as he handed me a water. “I see you’ve gotten a taste of bukkake?”
“Bukkake?”
Hunter pointed to the White muscle guy. “He loves getting cummed on.” Then he gulped down his water. “Sometimes we take bets on how many loads he’ll get.”
“Oh shit,” I said.
“Tonight, I’m guessing it’ll be at least ten,” Hunter said as he tossed his cup in the trash, “but we’ll see!”
By this point a whole bunch more guys had shown up, and they were crowded around the couch. It was a helluva sight to see all their bare butts, cocks, and balls, in even more shapes and sizes than before. At first I didn’t recognize anyone there, but then I saw Kyle; he was fooling around with a skinny dark-haired guy, jerking and making out, and they seemed to be having an awesome time.
I looked back at the guys in the far corner. The married guy had the baseball guy’s dick in one hand, and the cock ring guy’s dick in the other. The other guys were returning the favor: the baseball guy was massaging the married guy’s shaft, while the cock ring guy played with his balls.
I made my way over to them, and the married guy looked up at me. Then he took his hand off the baseball guy’s cock, and he reached for mine.
His wedding ring slid up and down my shaft. I looked in his eyes, and I tried to gauge what was going through his mind. Was he feeling guilty? Or repressed? Or was he just having fun with his significant other’s permission?
“Fuck yeah,” the married guy said as he tightened his grip on my dick. I was about to ask him to ease up, but then it started feeling really good.
The baseball guy’s cock was the only one that wasn’t getting played with. He was hard as a rock, oozing pre cum, and I could tell he was yearning for action. So I reached over and started stroking him too.
The baseball guy adjusted his hat, then closed his eyes and threw his head back. “Oh yeah,” he gasped.
“Don’t cum too fast,” the cock ring guy was saying.
“I won’t,” the baseball guy replied.
I took my free hand and reached for the married guy’s dick. The other guys took their hands off him, so I had his package to myself. I started massaging his cockhead, and he let out a loud sigh. I kept my eyes locked on his, and he stared right back at me. Then he took his left hand off the cock ring guy, and he started playing with my nipples.
The cock ring guy got up from his seat, and he walked toward the couch. The baseball guy followed him, leaving me alone with the married guy.
I ran my free hand up and down his thigh, then traced my fingers along his ballsack. But then he took my hand and guided it up to his chest.
I massaged his pecs for a minute, then leaned in to lick his left nipple. I ran my tongue around his areola, pressed my lips against his skin, and gave him a little nibble. Then I moved to his right and did it all over again.
The married guy tightened his grip again, and I felt a wave of pleasure. I could feel my balls contracting, so I was about to ask him to stop. But before I could, my body shuddered, and I started cumming in his hands. “Oh shit,” I said.
The married guy didn’t bat an eye. “Nice,” he replied with a grin. He kept stroking my cock till it stopped shooting; then he reached over and grabbed some paper towels.
I was a little annoyed with myself, since I’d wanted to hold off cumming as long as I could. I didn’t want to miss out on the rest of the party, so I tried to gauge if I could go another round.
Anyway, I cleaned off my cock while the married guy wiped his hands. Then I took the paper towels and threw them in the trash.
When I got back from the trash can, I saw a tall guy who clearly wanted some action of his own. The married guy seemed happy to oblige: he started caressing the tall guy’s dick, while the tall guy reciprocated.
I just stood there and watched them pleasure each other. Then I noticed another guy next to me; this time it was the skinny guy who’d been playing with Kyle.
“Hey man,” he said.
“Hey,” I replied.
“You need a hand?”
I licked my lips. Even though I’d already cum, I was still hard as hell. “Mm-hm….”
The skinny guy reached for my cock, and I reached for his. He was wearing black socks and shoes, an Apple watch, and nothing else. He had a tightly-cropped beard and a skull tattoo above his left nipple. Most importantly of all, his dick was sticking straight out, clearly yearning for action.
The skinny guy smiled at me as he worked my cockhead. He seemed to know just what to do to make me feel good, and I tried to return the favor. I thought back to what I’d done with Kyle, when I kept thinking of what felt good to me, and I did that to him. The skinny guy responded just how I hoped, letting out gasps of pleasure, while he gave my cock exactly what it needed.
I reached down and played with his balls as I stroked him. I couldn’t help noticing how his shaft got harder in my hand, and I couldn’t help wanting to make him even hornier. He seemed to want the same thing, though he didn’t say a word.
After a minute or two, he stepped closer to me, and our dicks came together. I felt his hard flesh against mine, as he jacked both of us at once.
“You like that?” he asked.
I nodded. “Fuck yeah….”
“Good,” he replied.
As we frotted, I reached around and put my hands on his butt cheeks. His ass was nice and firm, with just enough hair to give it some texture. He seemed to like my touch, and I could feel his dick swell against mine.
“You wanna sit down?” he asked.
“Sure,” I replied.
We went to a pair of chairs that were facing each other. I sat with my back against the wall, and he sat across from me with his legs open wide. From this angle I had a clear view of not just his cock, but also his ballsack and his taint underneath.
He started massaging my cockhead, and I felt a new wave of pleasure start building. I hoped this meant I could cum a second time, though I wasn't sure how long it would take. The skinny guy didn't seem to care; he just seemed to be enjoying the ride.
From where I was sitting, I could see the rest of the space, and I was vaguely aware of other guys jacking off around us. But to be honest, I wasn't paying attention to the others; I was so focused on the skinny guy that everything else became a blur.
I brought my hand further down to his taint, and I started massaging the back of his ballsack. His cock throbbed in response, and he let out a deep breath. I could tell how hard he was digging it, so I kept going further back— and as I did, he seemed to get hornier and hornier.
“Aw fuck,” he said as his ass cheeks clenched up.
“Does that feel good?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” seemed to be all he could say.
By now, my fingers were right by his hole, ready to make their way inside. But I remembered what the receptionist had said— “nothing goes inside anybody’s anything”— and the last I wanted was to get in trouble. So I kept my fingers out of him, though the tease seemed to get him even more worked up.
“Fuck,” he said as he gripped my cock harder than ever.
I was doing everything I could to make his dick feel incredible. I paid attention to every twitch of his body, every breath he took, and every sound he made; and I responded accordingly.
I pounded his pud faster and faster, and he did the same to me. His moans were soft at first, then got louder and deeper. He seemed to be getting close to the edge, but then he whispered for me to stop: “I don’t wanna cum yet.”
I took my hands off his cock. “You close?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said, “how about you?”
“I can keep going,” I said.
“Nice,” he said as he went back to working my cock.
I closed my eyes and leaned back. I could hear somebody moaning in the distance— apparently busting a nut of their own— but I couldn’t tell who it was, and I didn’t really care.
After a minute, I opened my eyes and went back to massaging the skinny guy’s taint. He responded just the way I’d hoped, with some more moans of pleasure. Then I put my free hand back on his cock, and he didn’t stop me; and finally, once I was sure the danger was past, I started stroking him again.
We both started leaning into each other, tentatively at first, then closer and closer till our lips met. The next thing I knew, I tasted his tongue as he entered my mouth. He took another break from jerking me off, and he wrapped his arms around me.
I’ve gotta say, making out with him was intense, and he seemed just as into it as I was. Both of us were grunting and gasping, caressing all different parts of each others' bodies.
Eventually our lips came apart, and we went back to beating each other off. We basically followed the same pattern I'd followed with Hunter and Kyle: we’d masturbate for a while, then take a break, make out some more, and repeat. Over and over and over.
It was probably a good thing that I was on my second round; otherwise I don’t think I could’ve lasted. I occasionally heard moans in the background, and I assumed somebody was cumming; then I saw a scramble for paper towels, which basically told me my assumption was right. Even so, I never got distracted, so I stayed totally focused on the skinny guy and his cock.
Finally he checked his watch. “We’ve got ten minutes left,” he said.
I realized we’d been going at it for an hour and a half. Part of me was surprised at how much time had gone by, but then again, time does fly when you’re having fun. “Okay,” I said, “then I’m not gonna hold back anymore.”
“You’re ready to cum?”
“I can’t fuckin’ wait,” I replied.
He grinned and gripped my shaft again. Then he looked in my eyes as he gave me a few more strokes. I felt my balls start to boil, and I knew it was time.
“Oh fuck… oh fuck… oh fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck….”
This orgasm was way more intense than the first. I didn’t shoot as much this time, but it didn’t seem to matter. My load poured onto the skinny guy’s hands, and it started making that squishy sound against his skin.
“Aw shit dude,” I said.
He kept stroking me till he was sure I was finished. “That’s awesome,” he said.
“Fuck yeah….”
He took his hands off my cock, and he switched to pounding his own pud. “Fuck,” he gasped. His eyes started to flutter, and he let out some more moans.
“Yeah,” I said, “fucking go for it.”
He kept going for another few seconds, then let out a grunt. “I’m gonna cum,” he said, just before his load splattered on his pubes. He didn’t shoot long ropes like I usually did, but he shot one glob after another, going on for quite a while, till practically all his pubes were soaked.
I was about to get some paper towels, but then I heard Hunter’s voice in the background. “Oh fuck,” he was saying. I turned around just in time to see Hunter shoot his load all over the White muscle guy.
The tall guy wasn’t far behind. He was standing over the bed as he worked his cock like nobody’s business. Then he yelled “oh shit!” as he went over the edge.
The White muscle guy took the tall guy’s load like a champ. Most of that cum sprayed across the muscle guy’s chest, though some of it hit his chin and his pillow. The muscle guy responded by jerking his own cock, clearly horned up from all the cum on him.
“Bust that nut,” Hunter said.
The muscle guy did as he was told: a second later, his dick unleashed another helping of jizz, which mixed with the other loads all over his body. “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck,” he said.
“Fuck,” I said. “How many loads are on there?”
“By my count,” Hunter said, “thirteen.”
I realized I’d only seen five guys cum on him: the Black muscle guy, the British guy, the redhead, the tall guy, and Hunter. The other eight guys must’ve done it while the skinny guy and I were going at it— not that I was complaining. Not to mention how many other guys had been jacking off in there; they must’ve presumably gotten off somewhere else around us. Now the space was mostly empty, with just a few of us spent, satisfied, and catching our breath.
I got some paper towels, handed some of them to the skinny guy, and used the rest to wipe myself off. “That was fucking awesome,” I said.
The skinny guy grinned one more time. “Hell yeah it was,” he said. “I can’t wait till next time.”
“Neither can I,” I replied, though even as I said it, I knew it seemed like the understatement of the year.
To be continued….
To get in touch with the author, send them an email.
