Wednesday in the Park with Joseph....and Friends

10 May ’72: I was excited and horny and in general ready for a few hours of celebration!  I’d just finished interviewing with the owner, manager and server supervisor of a private gay men’s club and landed my second part time job, this one as a cocktail server [Mr Noguchi: Intimate Job Interview]!  Granted it was only two afternoons a week to start, but it paid $2.75 an hour plus tips, and I’d work my way up to better hours.

Joseph drove me home afterward, fondling my leg for most of the drive.  It was around six and he suggested dinner and “…something interesting.  The Blue or the park or something.”  That sounded good, but I wanted to get into more comfortable clothes first.   Uncle Mitch was watering the lawn when we drove up.  I told Joseph who he was, and Joseph told me to “…introduce me and tell him the owner and I are taking several new hires out to dinner.”  I did that and went in to freshen and change.  Joseph told me “Good jeans and sneakers or boots are fine.”  He shrugged at Uncle Mitch, “Most of the interviewees showed up in jeans.”

I showered and freshened up, then changed to a darker blue shirt, black jeans, socks and sneakers.  And a jockstrap.

He took me to a diner and, after he made a phone call, we talked a little more about the job.  I asked about Mr. Neumann [the man who Joseph used to work for and who had offered me a stocker position this summer] and Joseph said not to worry about it.  When he resigned, he had told Neumann he was going to hire me on.  My interview today had been to convince the server supervisor and the owner to hire me.

As to the job itself, one of the boys [the servers were often referred to as “Yasashi boys”, Friendly boys, or “Yasashi Sekushi boys”, Friendly Sexy boys no matter their age, and they ranged from 18 to 36] would show me the ropes on my first day [I was to be there at 9:00 am that day].  Flirting with the customers was expected and customers were allowed to fondle and/or expose the servers as long as they didn’t damage the brief or jockstrap.  Damaged wear was charged to the customer.  Kissing was allowed also, but no sexual contact was permitted in the bar for the “Red-Wear” servers [and they were allowed only limited, management-approved sexual contact in the rear lounge].  Tips were allowed for drink service only and requesting a tip was a firing offense.  For “Black-Wear” servers there were no restrictions on sexual contact, but the tipping rules still applied.

He said we’d deal with the “entertainment” part of the job another time.  “You’ll see the other servers performing plenty of times before you’ll be expected to.”

It was early, barely 8:00, and Joseph suggested a stop at the Blue Bar.  In the car he had me lower my jeans to mid-thigh, but not my jock, and gave me a windbreaker jacket to lay across my lap.  He fondled my thigh for the ten-minute drive over there.  He put the windbreaker in the back seat, gave my hard-on a couple of squeezes and got out of the car.  I rearranged my jeans and followed him into the bar through the rear door.

And as soon as we got in, he stopped, and so did I.  I wasn’t sure why but thought he might be looking for someone.  [In fact, he was just getting attention.]  He put his arm over my shoulder, unbuckled my belt and my jeans, then pulled the zipper down just a little.  He told me to open my shirt and, while I did, said “I know a place that has jockstrap nights.  Check everything but your jock and footwear.  Think you can handle that?”  I said I could.  The idea turned me on intensely.  He said, “Maybe we’ll see some night,” and walked me around the bar counter to a space where there were a few empty stools and ordered a gin/tonic for him and a strawberry daquiri for me.  We shifted two stools out of the way and stood at the counter.  Joseph opened my shirt more, exposing my nipples. 

A dark blonde man wearing glasses sitting at a table nearby looked me over and said something to his two companions, a grey-haired man and a young [I’d guess mid 20s] blonde. The grey-haired man said something, the dark blonde and the young blonde replied, and the dark blonde came over and greeted Joseph as Joe, “And is this the kid you mentioned last weekend?”  He said it was and introduced us.   The guy’s name was Greg Stein.  He was about six-foot, average build, thin face, a slightly large nose and bright blue eyes and was wearing a red shirt and gray slacks.  He shook my hand, “I made a bet with Harald and Mark that Val’s a bottom boy.”  Joseph smiled and drank, “Cheating a little, or losing your memory?  I told you that Saturday.”  He smiled, “Cheating, but Mark needs to learn not to bet against his elders.”  He traced a line down my cheek, down my chest, down to my navel, down to my groin and caressed my cock and balls.  I sipped my drink, licked my lips and looked at Joseph.   He drank, “I’ll go give them the news and collect the winnings.”  He took his drink and walked casually over to the table where Harald and Mark were seated.

Greg pulled my zipper down, “Turn around, back against the bar.”

My cock throbbed.   I wondered, and anticipated, how far he’d take this.  I turned.

He opened my jeans, traced the waistband of my jock, opened my shirt wider then groped and fondled my jock-covered dick and balls, looking at my face but not really into my eyes.

I glanced over at the table.  Joseph was seated, talking to Harald and Mark.  A man in a booth behind him was watching us.

Greg slipped his hand into my jock and I closed my eyes, opened them and moaned softly as he groped my bare flesh.  I felt more than saw the bartender.  I glanced back at him.  He smirked and asked if I was “…ready for more?”  Then added “Another drink?”  I nodded and he smiled, muttered “Ready for anything,” and took my glass.

A slim dark-haired man around my height with a ‘soft’ face, roundish and a bit pudgy with large eyes and a weak jawline, wearing a dark suit and tie and white shirt moved from a table to a stool close to us.

Mark said something that got Harald and Joseph to look over at us.  Joseph smiled and drank.

Greg squeezed my cock gently, looked back at Joseph, then nodded at the dark-haired man.  The man moved to the stool beside me, got the bartender’s attention and ordered a round for us.  He cleared his throat, “John.”  Greg slipped his hand out of my jock and shook hands with John, “Greg.  This is Val.  I’m told he’s a good kid, is that right, Val?”  I said I tried, and he brushed my hair and smiled at John, “I’m also told he prefers older men.  That right?”  I said I did.  The bartender brought the drinks and took my almost-finished daquiri.  Greg ran his palm down my chest, belly and groin and slipped his hand into my jock, “And that he’s a budding slut.  Right?”

I suppose at this point there was no denying it and, actually, no desire to [although much of the latter feeling I have to attribute to my nicely buzzed state].  I said I was, then added, in a fit of self-consciousness, “If that’s what Joseph says.”

Greg moved around in front of me and pulled my jock cup down, “That’s almost exactly what he says.”  He gave my bare, throbbing dick a stroke, “Closer, John.”  John got off the stool and stepped close.   Greg put John’s hand on my cock, “Though I think he said, ‘a promising little slut’ actually.”  John stroked my cock a few times and let go and said, nervously, “Nice.”

Greg rearranged my jockstrap, “What say we go for a drive?”  I said, “I’m with Joseph.”  Greg drank half his drink, “You, me, Joseph and John here.”  I said okay.  

And John backed out, telling Greg “I’m not into gangbangs.”

Greg told me to drink up and “zip up”, then went over and retrieved Joseph.   We all finished our drinks, left and got into Joseph’s car Joseph driving and Greg and me in the back seat.

Greg opened his shirt and slacks and exposed his semi-erect cock.   He moved against me and put my hand around it, “You like that?”  I said Yes.  It was an attractive cock, missile shaped and straight as a    ruler.  The only downside to it was the size.  My idea of a fun-size cock was [and still is] 5.5 to 7 inches.  Don’t get me wrong, I’d done and would do bigger, but I always have preferred the average to slightly above average, especially in groups [which I was partial to, as you may have noticed].   Even partially erect Greg’s lovely cock was 7 inches, and a few seconds of manipulation coaxed it to its full 8 inches-plus length.  Thankfully it was not real thick.  I kept it slow, not trying to get him off, just to pleasure him and take pleasure in feeling and fondling his cock and balls. 

He leaned back, “That’s good.  I owe you, Joe.” After a few minutes he stopped me, telling me that “It feels a little too good.”

Around fifteen minutes later Joseph parked, and I recognized the park he’d taken me to once before, where he’d fucked me in front of two of his acquaintances [A Cock in the Park].  Greg rearranged his clothes and Joseph grabbed the windbreaker and we went into the woods.  We followed a trail for about ten minutes and passed several guys who were obviously cruising.  It was busier than the last time we were here, and I figured it was for a couple of reasons: the last time was in February and relatively cold, and the last time it had been around 5:30 pm.  It was a little past nine this time.  [Joseph later told me that 5 to 6 pm was usually busy during the week, so I was half right.] 

We were approaching a pair of men on a bench who were talking and watching us [a dark brunette who seemed to be in his early 40s, around 5’10”, slightly overweight with a roundish, friendly face and blue eyes, wearing a leather jacket, no shirt, faded black jeans and motorcycle boots and a tall, stocky brunette with a lean face, full lips and average good looks wearing a denim jacket also without a shirt, faded jeans and sneakers], when Joseph stopped and told us to hang on.  He went over, got a cigarette lit and talked with them for a couple of minutes, the leather guy looking me over the entire time.  Then the guys stood up and walked into the woods, Joseph turned to us and nodded, and Greg said, “Come on” and we went to join Joseph. 

Joseph led us into the woods to a small clearing with a picnic table where the two men were waiting.  He introduced us [the leather guy was Wolf, or called himself that, and the denim guy Eric], introducing me last and opening my shirt and my jeans as he did.  He dropped the windbreaker on the ground and kissed me, shoving his tongue into my mouth.  He fondled my cock and balls, gave my ass a squeeze and guided me into Greg’s arms.  Greg licked my collar, then my jaw, then kissed me roughly, almost forcing his tongue into me.  He and Joseph got my shirt off and Joseph put it on the picnic table.  Greg licked my nipples, squeezed my hard cock and slapped my ass, then gave me to Eric, who bypassed the kiss and pulled my jock aside to free my throbbing cock, gave my ass a hard slap and passed me to Wolf.

Wolf kissed me hard, groping my ass roughly, then opened his jeans, “Enough foreplay.”  He took me to the windbreaker, got me to my knees on it and pushed his jeans down to mid-thigh to expose his bulging black jockstrap, “Here’s something to get this party started.”  He pulled his jock down and released his nearly 8” cock.   He stepped forward and brushed it against my cheeks, “I don’t need to tell you what to do, now, do I?”

He didn’t.

I grasped his cock and gave it a few strokes, getting a good feel of the hard shaft and soft pink head.  I leaned forward and licked his large balls, kissed and licked his shaft and went back to his balls, kissing and sucking them and casually stroking and fondling his cock.  He let me have my lead for a couple of minutes, then lightly patted my head. 

I took about half his cock into my mouth, firmly gripping the shaft, and started sucking and licking it.  I worked it steadily, not fast and not too slow, and he seemed to like that.  I sucked him for a few minutes, then went back to licking, kissing and sucking his balls.  I may prefer average cocks, but I love big balls.  Then he told me, “Okay, get up.” 

He helped me up and took me back to the picnic table, bent me forward and yanked my jeans down to my shins.  He slapped my ass a few times and just when I expected to feel his cock entering me, I instead felt his wet tongue nudging into my ass.  I moaned and my dick jerked.  He rimmed and tongue-fucked me a little bit longer, then straightened up. 

A few seconds later his fingers were probing and stretching my asshole with lube, then his dick eased into me slowly, filling me inch by inch.  Once he was in, he gave me a few seconds, then started fucking, initially slow but not for long that.  Faster, steady-paced and a few minutes of that and I grasped my jerking, needy cock.

Joseph said, “Not just yet, Val.”  And I reluctantly let go.  [And I can’t explain why I automatically obeyed older men/father figures.  Upbringing I guess.]

Faster.  Wolf gripped my shoulders and thrust into me in shorter, harder thrusts.  The feel and smell of his leather jacket was adding to my arousal.  I wondered if that was one of the reasons Mr. Collier’s buddy, Toni, turned me on so much. 

And harder.  He pounded my ass nonstop for a few minutes, moved his hands down my sides, down and clamped them on my hips and jackhammer-pumped a dozen or so times, stopped and started again, shooting his heavy load into me, groaning and softly laughing, “Motherfuck that was worth the trip over here!  Fuck yes it was!”

Eric said, “Go ahead, I’ll go after,” as Wolf withdrew.  I looked back and saw Wolf hand Greg a small jar of lube, then turned back to the table.

Greg brushed my ass with his fingertips, opened and closed the jar and put it on the table, then slid two lubed fingers into me.  I kept my gaze straight ahead.  I heard him opening and dropping his slacks, heard him spit…

…then he shoved half his cock up my ass, grabbed my hips and thrust forward and started fucking me in long, steady thrusts.

Wolf said something about a men’s room and left.

Greg withdrew, guided me down to hands and knees on the windbreaker, shoved his cock into my hole, grabbed my shoulder and got down to fucking me harder and faster.  He jammed on me for a few minutes, then slowed his strokes a little and started fondling my balls and stroking my dick. 

I was sure Joseph was going to stop that, making me wait longer, but he didn’t.  

Greg wrapped both arms around my hips and slowed his thrusts a little more while tightening his grip on my dick and speeding up his strokes a little.  “Nice little fuck, baby.”  And louder, “Fucking sweet little fucktoy, Joseph!  You know how to pick ‘em!”

My cock pulsed.  Greg thrust, filling me, and stopped, concentrating on jerking me off.

I relaxed, squirming against him.  He stroked me faster.   I lowered my head to the ground and cried out as a huge load erupted from my dick. 

Greg released my cock, grabbed my hips and resumed fucking, pumping hard and fast now, whispering as he did.  He moved his hands to my shoulders, hammering my ass and without warning and without slowing down filled me with cum.  He kept power-fucking me for a moment, then withdrew and slapped my ass.  “Christ yeah, you pick ‘em, Joe!”

Joseph and Eric came over together.  Joseph told me to “…give your ass a rest and your mouth a workout for a few minutes,” and helped me to my knees.  Eric pulled his jeans and jock down and gave his hard seven-inch-plus cock a few strokes.  Greg whispered to Joseph and Joseph said “Not yet, but it’s on the list.  I’ll let you know.”  He turned my head toward his erect cock and patted my cheek with it, “Suck it.”  I started licking the shaft, but he stopped me, “I’m close, just suck it.”  So, I took it into my mouth and started sucking and licking it, riding it at a steady pace.

Eric wrapped my hand around his cock and started stroking it.

Joseph withdrew his cock and stroked it aggressively, turning my head to Eric.  I opened wide and Eric slid his cock in and started fucking my mouth.  He withdrew after a couple of minutes and turned me back to Joseph, who patted my cheeks with his cock a few times before popping it into my open mouth.  He fucked my mouth for barely a minute or two before he filled it with cum.  I swallowed and licked it clean even as he withdrew. 

I started to turn back to Eric, but Joseph stopped me, “You want his ass?”  Eric said yes.  Joseph got me to my feet and turned me to face him.  Eric spit-lubed his cock and shoved it up my ass, held steady for a few seconds, then grabbed my hips and started fucking me.  Joseph held my upper arms and sloppily licked and kissed my jaw and my lips.

Eric nudged my legs apart and pumped my ass a little faster, a little harder.

Joseph bit my earlobe, “You like that?”  “I love it.”  He kissed me roughly.  “Little slut,” again, pressing hard, “That what you are?”  My cock throbbed in a vain attempt at erection, “Uh-huh, yes, I’m a slut, uh-huh.”  Again, roughly, “Exactly what you are, slut.” and Eric started moaning softly, fucking me harder, faster, in shorter strokes.

Joseph kissed me hard, forced his tongue into me and wrapped his arms around me, locking my arms against my sides, pinning me, helpless. 

A minute…two… and Eric groaned and shoved his cock deep up my ass and came hard, pumped a few more times and slowly withdrew.

We went to the men’s room and cleaned up, said our ‘good nights’ and ‘see you agains’ and Joseph drove me home, my jeans and jock lowered and his windbreaker across my lap.  I rearranged my clothes outside the house, in the car, nervous and aroused at the thought of Uncle Mitch catching me.

Inside I said a quick ‘hi’ to Uncle Mitch.  He asked how it went and I said “Good” and said I’d change clothes and be back.

I showered and changed to pajamas and watched a late movie with him.  About halfway through he freshened our drinks [which I didn’t need, as buzzed as I was, but he insisted].  When he returned with them, his robe was open…and he was, again, naked beneath it….and aroused, his 7” cock standing straight up.  He leaned toward me, his cock inches from my face, and put my drink on the end table.  I finally stopped staring and turned toward the TV.

And he asked, “Do you like that?”

I looked up at him and he said, “The rum and coke, like it?”  Then he smiled, “Oops, sorry.  Allison Hayes always does that to me.”  He returned to his seat and I said ‘Yeah, it’s good but I like vodka better.”  And I assured myself it was an innocent slip fueled by alcohol and, maybe, Allison Hayes.