Mr Collier's Friends: Ken, Roger and Mr G

8 May of ’72 and the week was off to a promising start.  I’d thought just the opposite this morning when Mr. Gull, the teaching substitute for Mr. Haney’s Gym class, had told me to report for detention at end of day.   That had, however, turned out to be an excuse for him and Mr. Haney to explore my mouth and my ass with their dicks [Teacher and Me: Afterschool Doubleteam]. [Note 1: Mr. Gull had set this up with me for the 10th but, without warning, decided to do it sooner.  Note 2: Haney was under suspension, I found out later, for allegations of harassing a female teacher and shouldn’t have been there.]   In addition, I had a job interview Wednesday with the manager of Mr. Noguchi’s private men’s club and tonight I had my first actual work with Mr. Collier at his photo studio for a seven o’clock shoot.

Mr. Collier picked me up at school at around 4:30, we ate at a deli, and we got to the studio at 6:30.  The client, Lawrence Jordan, was a steady customer who would come in every month or two solo or with a partner.  He was a corporate executive and always remembered the studio at Christmas, too.  He was doing a solo tonight and liked a gin/tonic before a shoot.

He arrived at a few minutes before seven and Mr. C introduced us.  Mr. Jordan was early 40s, 6’1”, and a little overweight with a slight paunch, average good looks and business-cut light brown hair.  He wore aviator glasses and what looked to me like an expensive grey suit with a white shirt and black tie.  He had light body hair, no chest or ass hair, short-trimmed pubic hair [he had that, and the chest and ass shaving done professionally], average sized, loose hanging balls and a thick six-inch cock [all noted during the shoot, of course].  I took him to the shower and hung his clothes up and, after he got into the shower, went in to make his drink.    Mister C was waiting and stopped me, “When the shower stops.  On a tray so you don’t melt the ice.”  When I did deliver it, Mr. Jordan complimented me on the timing and the drink and said he’d be out in a few minutes.

The shoot went smoothly.  Mr. C had me help position Mr. Jordan’s arm once and had me muss his hair for a few shots and then comb it again.  During the comb Mr. J took a feel of my leg and ass but didn’t say anything.  He also kept looking me over during the shoot, though he never tried to make eye contact.

Afterward he spoke with Mr. C privately while I straightened and cleaned up.  He arranged to pick up the photos Sunday at three, then asked if he could buy us drinks.  Mr. C said yes, and I nodded.

We went to the Nine Ballz and straight back to the pool table.  Mr. Jordan went for drinks [I ordered a scotch and soda instead of my usual Black Russian since I’d shared straight scotch with Mr. Gull earlier and knew the hazards of mixing drinks]. Mr. C bought the second round and when he was gone, Mr. Jordan put his hand on my shoulder and said, “So, Ted Anderson said you had a pleasant surprise for him when he picked up his photos Saturday.  Do you think I might get something similar?”  I told him I was willing, but Mr. Collier had the say on that. 

When Mr. C returned with the refills, and with Kenneth [the accountant with the green Cadillac [Mr Collier's Friends: Kenneth ]] in tow, Mr. Jordan took Mr. Collier aside and Kenneth handed me my drink, “You’re becoming a regular here.  I’m starting to think you like an older crowd.”  I told him I did, and he patted my ass, “Yes, well,” he raised his glass, “plenty of us like you too.  You know how to party.”  We drank and I smiled, nicely buzzed, and said, “I’m learning fast, anyway.”  He patted my ass and I moved into his hand.  He drank, “So what are Jeff and Larry talking about?”  “Some kind of business talk,” I told him I’d just started working for Mr. Collier as his assistant and we toasted that.  He smiled, “Larry’s probably negotiating a price for you to pose with him,” then leaned closer, “I know I would be if I had photos taken, hotstuff.”  I told him he ought to and he hemmed and hawed and finally settled on maybe. 

Mr. C and Mr. Jordan returned, and Mr. C nodded to me and said, “Yes to Sunday,” then asked, “What happened to Roger and George?”  Ken said he’d see and went back to the bar proper. 

I finished my drink and went to get me and Mr. Jordan refills [Mr. C’s was nearly full].  Ronnie was taking care of a group of four, so I waited.  A bald man, maybe mid-40s, average build, with a heavy gray moustache two seats down looked at me a couple of times, then came over, “You’re Jeff Collier’s kid, aren’t you?”  I told him I was friends with Mr. Collier but not his son and he laughed, “Yeah, I meant ‘his kid’ as in you suck his dick, not you mow his lawn.  Val, right?”  “That’s right.”  “You’re even better…”  He turned and yelled to Ronnie, then turned back to me, “Better than I remember.  We met a few weeks ago.  Andy.  So how old are you?”  I told him I was 21 and he smiled, “No, your real age.  Whisper.”  He pulled me toward him, and I told him I was barely 18 and he grabbed my ass, “Real nice.  Tell Jeff that Andrew Lioni’s interested.”  Ken, Roger and George Glazier [I’d met Mr. Glazier at the studio Saturday [Mister Collier gives me a job]] came around the bar on the way back to the pool table and joined us.  Roger patted Mr. Lioni’s shoulder, “You coppin’ feels again, Andy?”

Ronnie got my refills while Roger and Mr. Lioni talked, then Kenneth, Roger, Mr. Glazier and I went back to the pool table.  We all played a 3v3 game and Mr. Jordan left around 10:00 due to an early morning meeting.  Roger suggested we reconvene at his house and we all agreed.  Mr. Glazier and Roger took Roger’s car, I rode with Kenneth, and Mr. C followed solo.  Kenneth had me sit in front this time, but nonetheless told me to strip as soon as we left the bar.  Once I had, he fondled my bare thigh, occasionally brushing my balls teasingly, for the rest of the short journey.

We parked in Roger’s garage [Roger parked curbside] and the others went inside while I waited, for only a couple of minutes, for Mr. C.  He closed the garage door, not just because I was naked but “…because a group of middle-aged men with one teenage boy would be likely to set tongues flapping, triply so if he was naked”, then told me there would be eight guests at the poker party, plus me and Mr. C so “…get your rest Thursday night.”  He went in with me and straight into the kitchen, where Kenneth was waiting.  Kenneth took Mr. C out to the garage and I prepped our drinks: scotch and soda for me and vodka/tonic for Mr. Collier.

When they returned, Mr. C thanked Kenneth and came into the kitchen, tasted and okayed his drink, and smiled, “So you met Andy.”  I said I had, told him about it and that Mr. Lioni had told me to tell Mr. C he was interested, but didn’t say in what.  I’d initially thought he meant in me but thought he would have just asked me for a phone number if he’d meant that.  “No,” Mr. C smiled, “it’s about a car.”  He paused, “Unless he thinks we’re a pair.  Andy’s not the brightest bulb, especially when he’s drinking.  Well, I’ll figure it out.  Let’s join the others.”  He put his arm around me, hand on my ass, and we went into the living room.

The 16mm projector was on, playing gay porn loops.  Jazz was playing on a reel-to-reel recorder and on the red tablecloth-covered coffee table were an incense burner, coasters and a jar of lube.  Roger and Mr. Glazier were standing near the reel-to-reel, Roger naked and Mr. G stripped to his briefs, talking.  Kenneth was on the sofa, naked, watching the loops and casually fondling his semi-hard cock.

Mr. C drank half his drink and I followed suit, now somewhere between buzzed and drunk.  He told me to put our glasses on the coffee table and I did it without thinking.  [I was naturally subservient, and Mr. Collier and his friends brought that out in me even more.  And Joseph and Mr. Noguchi fed that part of me and nurtured it.]  He opened his slacks and pushed them and his briefs down to mid-thigh, exposing his hard cock, pulled me, belly to belly, against him and fondled my ass, then squeezed it roughly and patted it.  He bent me forward a little and spread my ass cheeks, probed my hole, teasing, then slapped my ass and bit my earlobe, “Fuck, I’m horny as hell.” 

He caressed my ass cheeks again and I moved into his hand.  He licked my ear, my collar, my jaw, “Get down on your knees,” bit and licked my ear, “and suck my fucking cock.”

I knelt, wrapped one arm around his thigh, held his cock up and slowly licked his balls, sticking my tongue out as far as possible.  I licked his shaft up one side to the throbbing cockhead and down the other, licked his balls, licked up his shaft and took it into my mouth.  My cock jerked as his slid along my tongue and filled my mouth.  I started sucking him slowly and Mr. C breathed, “Faster.”

I sped up to a steadier pace.  Mr. C held my head loosely, just keeping me from taking his cock out of my mouth.  I sucked and licked it for a few minutes, stroking it occasionally.  He withdrew and started stroking.  I licked his balls, sucked each in turn.  He grabbed my head and patted my lips with his cock, whispering, “Almost…”

I opened my mouth and he filled it with his dick, held my head still and started fucking my mouth fast, chanting softly, “Come on…come on…”

Kenneth came closer, fondling his hard cock.

Mr. C withdrew and stroked his cock, “Open wide…oh yeah…”

I did and stuck my tongue out.  He pressed his cockhead against it, stroking faster, gripping my hair, “Good, that’s my…good…. little…fuck!”  He shot a thick load across my tongue and into my mouth.  He pumped out a couple more quick spurts, ruffled my hair, then pulled his slacks up and went into the rest room to clean up.

Kenneth handed me my drink and I took a large swallow, nearly finishing it.  He put it back and stood in front of me, holding his hard cock, “Go ahead.”  He brushed my hair, “We both know what you need.”

I leaned forward and took his cock into my mouth and started sucking it and working it with my tongue; lubing it more than trying to drain it.  Kenneth ran his hands through my hair, pinched my earlobes and ran a finger along my jaw, pumping his hips occasionally while I sucked him. After a few minutes he withdrew and got me to my feet, kissed me, probing deep and filling my mouth with his thick tongue, then slapped my ass, “Do you want it?”  I said I did. “Then tell me,” he slapped my ass again, “tell me now.”

He teased a finger into my ass, and I squirmed, “Please shove your dick up my ass and fuck me.”

Kenneth slapped my ass again, then nudged two lube covered fingers into me.

Roger asked who needed refills and we all, except Mr. C, piped up.

Kenneth pushed my shoulder, “Bend over.”  I bent, and he teased me a little longer with his fingers and finally my cock throbbed as he nudged his cock into my hole.  He filled me slowly.  When his dick was completely inside me, his pubic hair brushing my ass, he grabbed my forearms and started fucking me slow and steady.  He must have ridden my ass that way for a good ten minutes, then started plowing me faster and faster.   He withdrew and I thought he was going to cum on me.  Nope, not yet.  He took me to the chair where Mr. C was seated and got me down to hands and knees.  

Kenneth slapped my ass and held my head down, “Tell me what you want, baby.  You want me to keep fucking you?”

“Yeah…yes…fuck my ass and cum inside me.  Keep fucking me, please.”

Mr. Collier said something I didn’t catch, and Kenneth responded “Yeah,” then shoved his cock back into my ass and started fucking me hard and fast.  He ran his hands down my sides to my hips to my thighs, absolutely ass-pounding me the whole time.

His strokes got shorter, “Goddamn…”, faster, “…wicked little…babe, fucking…” and harder, “…hot slut…uh yeah Christ you fucking—” and he groaned, thrust into me and his load filled me.  He licked and sucked my earlobe, “You are a hottie, baby.”  Then he helped me up and went to clean up.

That ass pounding had sobered me a little.  I took a drink and swayed to the jazz.  Roger collected my glass, “You need a top up,” collected Ken’s glass and went into the kitchen with Mr. Glazier’s “Beer!” following him.  I looked over at Mr. Glazier and smiled just a little.  He was naked now, his six-inch-plus cock erect, and he was watching me sway and wiggle. 

He spread his legs and patted the sofa between them. 

I walked over casually, wiggling my hips a little, stood between his legs for a couple of beats, then knelt.  He moved forward on the sofa and stroked his cock.  I leaned forward and licked the shaft, licked his fingers, licked his cockhead and kissed it, pressing my tongue against his cumhole.   He brushed my hair and I continued to lick his cock and balls slowly, carefully and thoroughly.

Roger returned with drinks, gave Mr. Glazier his beer and interrupted me to have me “,,,taste it.”  I straightened up, he held the glass and pressed it to my mouth and fed me a third of the drink, which was primarily scotch.

I was flying.

I sloppily licked my way back up Mr. G’s thighs, kissed and licked his balls and cock for a couple of minutes, then took his cock into my mouth and began to suck it.  I rode it for five minutes before he put one hand on my head and started to pump his hips in time with me.

Mr. C and Roger moved the coffee table forward a couple of feet.

Mr. G moaned softly and started pumping faster.  I stopped moving and just let him fuck my wet mouth,

Roger knelt beside me and started fondling my ass.

Mr. G ran his hand along my shoulders, into my hair, pumping fast, “Good…yeah…”  He held his beer out and Roger took it.  “Goddamn…” held my head with both hands and stopped suddenly, then shot a thick load into my mouth.  “Yeah…oh yeah…”  Another good burst, followed by a few small ones and he brushed my hair, “Good…goddamn nice.”

He withdrew and Roger eased two lube covered fingers into my asshole, put a hand on my chest and said, “Straighten up.”  I stayed on my knees and straightened up, allowing Mr. Glazier to step out.  Roger handed me my drink, still finger-fucking me.  I drank and managed to get it back to him, squirming when he shoved his fingers in to the knuckles.

Mr. G returned and traded spots with Kenneth.  Roger withdrew his fingers, moved around behind me, put one hand on my shoulder and eased his cock into my ass.   He didn’t move for a few seconds, then gripped my shoulder a little tighter and started fucking me: a few long, slow thrusts then into a steadier pace.  He pushed me forward and released my shoulder. 

Kenneth brushed his fingers lightly across my nipples, leaned forward and kissed me, forcing his tongue deep into my mouth.

Roger grabbed my hips and fucked me in shorter, slightly faster thrusts.

Kenneth pinched and twisted my nipples.  He broke the kiss and held my shoulders, smirking and watching me as Roger continued fucking me harder.

Roger slowed a little, kept thrusting hard, “Mm yeah fuck yeah baby so sweet…”, his flesh slapping loudly against mine.

Kenneth pressed his face against mine, whispered “Yeah, you like that.”  I started to respond and he kissed me again and thrust his tongue into me.

It went on for ten minutes: Roger slowing down a little or speeding up a lot, whispering “fucking sweet” and variations and expletives and pet names.  And Kenneth licking my lips or ear or jaw between kissing me and fucking my mouth with his tongue.

And faster and harder and shorter strokes, his cock throbbing inside me, then Roger grunted and his load—it felt huge—exploded into me and Kenneth thrust his tongue deep into my mouth.  Roger kept pumping for a moment, then slowed and withdrew.

Afterward we talked [primarily “the adults” or “the men” as I thought of them talking amongst themselves, though Kenneth and Mr. C both spoke with me a little], and I sucked off Kenneth and Mr. G a second time.  I showered and we left around 12:30, and Mr. C dropped me off at home around 1:00 am, buzzed but at least not drunk.

Uncle Mitch was watching a late movie and I joined him for a few minutes to update him on the interview Wednesday.  I told him it was for a cocktail waiter at a private club.  He pushed for details and I considered stretching the truth, then just told him it was a private gay men’s club.  He patted my thigh and told me to watch my back, joking, then said I’d probably make good tips and told me to get security to walk me to my car if I drove.  I told him I would, absolutely.

And I couldn’t help noticing him getting an erection beneath his robe.

He asked about the shoot tonight and I said it went smoothly and that the customer took us for drinks afterward.  Then I said good night, dead tired, and was asleep a few minutes after I stripped to my briefs and hit the bed.