Teacher Game Night

[27 May 1972]. Saturday morning and despite going to bed at nearly four am [Uncle's Boss Living Room Gangbang] l woke at seven thirty without an alarm and with a throbbing hard-on, which was becoming the norm. Not a complaint 😁.

There was a post it on my clock with a note to call Mr. Gull asap. I tossed on a short robe and went down and called. He said he'd pick me up at 3:30 and he'd see me then and hung up. OK. I went to the kitchen to start coffee, but Mr. Drake, wearing only his black briefs, was there at the counter, watching the brew.

I said good morning and he turned to face me and my hard on and smiled, "You always up this early?". "Sometimes earlier." He came over and gave my cock a couple of strokes. He slapped my ass and smiled, "Next time." He went in to wake Mr. Evans and I went up to shower.

Over breakfast Mr. Drake told Uncle Mitch, "I'm verry pleased with the progress we're making. I'd like to get together once a week starting next Wednesday or Thursday. "

Uncle Mitch said that sounded great and glanced at me and quickly looked away.

Which was troubling.

But while Uncle Mitch looked furtive, Mr. Drake and Mr. Evans looked blandly pleased. Either way I didn't ask if I was involved and they didn't address any role for me.

They left at 9:30. Mr. Drake said he'd see me next week and I nodded and shook his hand. We both, I was sure [and correct] were referring to Friday and Uncle Mitch was assuming we meant Wednesday.

I read comics for a couple hours, then took a shower, shaved, etc., etc. getting ready. I laid out red briefs, white hip huggers and a black shirt and white deck shoes, then tossed a robe on and went downstairs.

I was pouring iced tea when Uncle Mitch, wearing jeans and sneakers, came in from the back yard. He asked for an iced tea and made grilled cheese sandwiches. He asked me, when we sat down if I'd pick up on him if I saw him, and didn't know him, in a bar.

I told him I don't pick up, I get picked up on, but if I didn't know him, I'd let him pick me up. At the same time, he needed to keep in mind that I'm attracted to middle aged average guys.

He nodded, "Okay, well, do you think I'm good looking?"

I said yes "you look a little like Richard Denning.". He nodded and ate.

I asked what he was looking for. "The 9 Balls has a range of ages. Boys Club has a lot of 18 up. My suggestion is to go out with Mr. Collier or Mr. Johnson and get a feel for the scene.'"

We talked about other things including turning the basement into a rec room. I asked what the project was he and Mr. Drake were working on.

He held a finger to his lips.' Top secret. We're working on getting into another city, west coast."

I went upstairs and freshened, dressed and put four jockstraps [two red and two white ] into a refrigerator bag.

Mr. Gull arrived around 3:00 pm and visited with Uncle Mitch and me [mostly Uncle Mitch ] until a little before 4:00, when we left.

Mr. Gull shook his head, "I feel like I should offer to take him to the Boys Club or someplace, get him something pretty." He gave me a gold pouch about double the size of a tobacco pouch on a gold chain. "That's for tips and winnings. If it gets too full take it to Gary or Steve at the 1st floor entry door and they'll exchange it for large bills." The chain seemed long and he said it went around my waist. "so, it doesn't get in the way when you're sucking cock."

He spent the rest of the drive fondling my left leg, my cock and my balls.

We arrived early and we went to the 1st floor bartender where Mr. Gull ordered a Black Russian for me. Then he took me on a tour of the 1st and 2nd floors, ending with the 2nd floor staff dressing room.

The other three party boys [Tee Jaye, AF-AM, 5'11" 9", Davis, WH, brunette 6'2" 8", Chet WH, blond 5'6" 8", thick, and I was WH, brunette 5'8" 6"] arrived at a quarter to five. Mr. Troy led them to the dressing room, introduced us, and told us to strip. And I got my first look at Chet. I knew Davis was muscular, though he needed to work on his legs. Chet was powerfully built, like Ron Ely. Mr. Gull gave us wristlets, blue for me and Tee Jaye and red for Davis and Chet. The guests would get the same, making it easier to see which server belonged to which group of guests. [Nobody was restricted to the group they were in; it was just a way to prevent a service boy getting overwhelmed.]

They checked us over for body odor and breath and found a couple of us [not me 😁 ] in need. Mr. Troy manned the spray deodorant and had each of us use mouthwash. Mr. Gull placed the tip pouches around our waists and the charms [BOTTOM for me and Tee Jaye and VERSATILE for Davis and Chet] around our necks.

Mr. Troy told us to put our jockstraps on; Tee Jaye and me to start with white and Davis and Chet to start with red. We'd switch to red and white, respectively, at 9:30 pm.

The guests, including the four hosts, were Mr. Gull [40s 8"+], Mr. Larry Wolfe [late-30s 7.5"] Mr. Troy [low-40s 8"], Mr. Harold Brody [40 8", thick], Mr. Haney [early 30s 8" plus], Mr. Howard Major [44 8.5"] Ford Grant [38 7.5", thick ], Herr Victor Muller [49 10"], William Pope [44, 6"], Big Poppa [mid-50s 9"], Nathan Johansen [black, low 40s, 10" thick], Hokuto Hasumi [42, 10"] and Arturo Fox [Mex, late 30s, 7.5"].

There were more guests, including Mr. Ito, but they didn't interact with me, so I won't cover them.

Mr. Gull told us to enjoy the evening and, more important, make sure our assigned guests enjoyed the evening, wanted to come back and to bring a friend. It was 5:30 and he suggested we get acquainted with the layout of both floors and told Chet and me to come up here at 5:50 pm.

The 1st floor living room was set up the same as it was on my last visit [Teacher and Me: Mr. Gull's Friends]. The single change was that the tripod-mounted projection screen had been replaced with a larger pull-down screen.

The main room [the entertainment level] was the basement, and it was huge, with wood paneling, plush blue carpeting and a drop ceiling: and

a small but well-stocked bar that could seat eight and leave room for the waiter station:

two black leather sectionals with two slim coffee tables in front of each,

a large poker table which sat ten.

and the 14-foot square wrestling ring.

A lot of the erotic books and some figurines were duplicated, but there were another thirty some figurines, a dozen books, and twenty-some prints more explicit than those upstairs.

Quarter to six came quickly and Chet and I met at the top of the stairs and went into the dressing room. Chet asked if I had a preference and before I could say older men he added, "winning or losing, I mean.". I told him I'd take the loss and he bumped hips and said "Slut", smiling, then, "the loser sometimes gets doubled by the winner and the winner's coach." I thanked him and said I'd keep that in mind. Yum 😋!

Mr. Troy came in and opened the closet door and, after a quick look at us, handed me a white and blue singlet and Chet a blue and gold one. Mr. Troy told us "the singlets are designed to come apart with just a little effort. The shoulder straps will take sides and/or the front with it. The bottom you'll need to pull and yank off. We've modified the wrestling pay to $75 per match so we can book a match without feeling guilty. The physical play of the matches has been changed to be heavy on the pro wrestling and very light on the Greco Roman. The members prefer it. Even our academic wrestling coaches prefer it. The winning coach will get the losing party boy for maximum 20 minutes."

The singlet was light material and formfitting without being tight. We'd wrestle barefoot. And we'd meet our managers at the ring. We stopped at the bar and both had a shot of vodka and went to the ring.

Wrestling

Mr. Gull and a man I didn't know met us at the start of a temporary 5-foot barrier. Mr. Gull was my manager and the other man, Harold Brody would be Chet's.

Mr. Brody was 40, six foot one, stocky, bald with a brown moustache, his entire body was shaved, pubic hair and balls included. He had an 8-inch cock and big balls. The only hair he had was his eyebrows and moustache.

Mr. Gull was mid-40s, with grey hair and a stocky, not musclebound, build. He was around six foot and had the strong-jawed features of a career Marine. He was, in a word, intimidating, with an 8-inch cock.

Both wore sweatpants, Mr. Gull's white and Mr. Brody's were blue.

Chet entered first and was introduced by Mr. Wolfe as "At five foot six, 200 pounds and equipped with eight thick inches of high school cock, accompanied by his manager, Handsome Harold Newman...Cheatin' Chet Hayes!!"

Chet smiled at me on the word "cheating" and he and Mr. Brody jogged to the ring and climbed in.

And they called me in "And at five foot nine inches, 150 pounds, with 6" up front and an ass just made to be fucked or spanked, accompanied by his manager Willie Gagyu...Val Toyboy!"

I smiled at that, and Mr. Gull and I walked to the ring and climbed in.

Mr. Wolfe patted us down, groping us blatantly and getting a few laughs and whistles. He whispered to us "Both your singlets should be off or very nearly off by five minutes in. Chet plays a heel, but he's careful. If a choke gets too tight pat his forearm he'll ease up. You watch pro wrestling?" I said yes, and that a few buddies and I used to practice at an old gym his dad owned, O'Toole's. Mr. Wolfe squeezed my shoulder, "Great! Similar without leaps or dangerous moves or dives. And no low blows."

We started with a test of strength and were soon trading missed clotheslines. The timekeeper called time remaining every 2 minutes.

Chet got me into a corner and leaned against me and whispered, "hang on tight". I grabbed the ropes and Chet grabbed the singlet and tried to yank me out. He tore the shoulder and part of the front off.

A little further along we were grappling on the mat and he got up, and I grabbed the shoulder. It tore and the rest of the right side from collar to waist fell.

Chet flung me into the ropes, took me down, rolled me to my belly and pulled the remains of my singlet off. He tore the left leg and crotch of his singlet off and climbed on top of me.

Seconds later his almost hard cock was trapped against my ass, and my own dick was throbbing. He got up and stood over my head, his jockstrap pouch pulled to the right to expose his cock, and slowly removed what was left of his singlet.

Somebody yelled "fuck him!" And a couple of others called out agreements. Mr. Brody came over to Chet's corner and waved him over. Chet flexed and strutted over. I counted to three then got up and half ran half dived to my corner. Mr. Gull asked if I was okay and I said I I was fine. We weren't trying to hurt each other. He patted my shoulder.

Mr. Brody got down and placed a tube of lubricant on the apron.

The bell to continue rang and we ran into the ropes, ducked each other, came off the ropes again and this time I bumped into Chet and he didn't move.

He picked me up in a bear hug [which actually, felt pretty good] and I sold it like absolute torture. He got me to my knees and I finally went limp. He stood up and walked around the ring, stopped at his corner, and took the lube. He came back, peeled his jock off tossed it to a group of five men. They started chanting "fill 'er up, Chet! Fuck fuck fuck!!"

He squeezed lube into his left palm and massaged his cock. When it was glistening, he dropped to his knees and slapped my ass cheeks. I'm sure I must have flinched when he slapped me, but I still feigned unconsciousness.

Chet massaged my ass for a moment, spread my ass cheeks and lubed my hole, then slapped my ass cheeks again . He laid belly down on top of me. I wiggled and he moved right a little and eased his cock into me. He was halfway in when he put his forearm around my throat and pulled back.

Chet kept fucking me steadily and flexing his arm. I screamed off and on, cursed, moaned a few times [which moans were not faked] and finally tapped out.

Mr. Wolfe, Mr. Gull and Mr. Brody entered the ring simultaneously.

Mr. Gull and Mr. Brody got me up and walked me around the ring a couple of times. When we decided I was okay I waved, and Mr. Gull walked me to my corner.

Mr. Wolfe got into the ring and announced the winner, "...by submission, Cheatin' Chet Hayes!" And raised his arm. I started to leave the ring, but Mr. Gull stopped me and asked me if I was forgetting something.

Mr. Brody removed his sweats and jockstrap. He got the tube of lubricant and lubed his hard 8" cock, handed the lube to Mr. Wolfe and sauntered to my corner.

I peeled my eyes away from Mr. Brody and looked up at Mr. Gull and asked, "right now?"

"Right now."

"Right here?"

"Right here." He turned me to face the ring post.

Mr. Brody came over and fondled my ass. "Oh, I think this is gonna be a nice ride, guys." He pushed two fingers into my hole.

Mr. Gull fondled my cock and balls, pulled my jock pouch aside to expose them, then climbed out of the ring and stood by me on the apron.

I squirmed as Mr. Brody pushed his cock into my asshole. I grabbed the ropes, eased back and bent forward a little.

He started slow, but quickly increased to a steady pace. A group of nine men were soon calling out to "pump that peach" and "faster", "fucking sweet" and offers to help.

Mr. Brody sped up for a few seconds, then slowed, stopped, his entire 8-inch cock buried inside me, then he started again, steady. He held my hips and fucked me harder, his body slapping loud against mine.

And faster, his left arm locked around my hips, his right hand gripping my right, pinning it on the ring rope and filling my ass with hard, deep strokes three...four and I opened my mouth and let out loud high-pitched little gasps of pleasure...six...eight...nine and his cum erupted into me and we both grunted. He shot six more spurts, each decreasing in size, then withdrew and stepped up on the second rope and raised his arms. The guys applauded and whistled. He stayed there for a few seconds, then came down. He turned me around, straightened me up and kissed me, holding my head back and shoving his tongue deep into my mouth, then left to clean up.

I hurried up to the dressing room, took a literally 2-minute shower, used deodorant and cologne and was changing to my spare white jockstrap when Mr. Wolfe came in and stopped me. "Go ahead and put that away. We provide for the other Party Boys; we can provide for you."

He went to a closed cabinet and opened it and took half a dozen jockstraps, four red and two white, out of a bag and tossed them to me. He said to see him or Mr. Wolfe if I needed more or a different color.

I came down a little before 7:00, got my tray and rejoined the party. Or, rather, started to but was blocked by a light skinned black man who touched my earlobe and said he enjoyed the show, "...particularly the fucking you parts."

His name was Ford Grant, and he was 38, 6'2", bald and muscular with average body hair and no chest hair, trimmed pubic hair and a 7.5 inch cock. He also volunteered that he was a high school gym teacher.

Mr. Grant touched my chin and ran his thumb across my lips. "Open up."

I opened my mouth a little and he pushed his thumb into me. I licked it, sucked it and bit it lightly.

Mr. Grant withdrew his thumb. "Let’s go to the poker table. You're my charm".

I asked if they had the bid already, knowing they hadn't but wanting to avoid embarrassing him. He didn't react immediately and when he did it was to simply walk away.

Poker

The poker games and the wrestling matches were running simultaneously, with the second round of each starting at 7:15. The poker games were ended at ten before the hour so an ongoing game could be finished.

I went head-to-head with Chet again, this time vying for the lucky charm spot to the highest bidder.

To be continued..