A Very Phoenix Christmas

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A Very Phoenix Christmas Page 6

by C J Bishop


  . . .

  Oliver shoved his hands through his hair and groaned.

  “Are you okay?” Angel smiled at Dane—there was no missing the vocals of the wild fuck-fest from inside the private booth that Lex and Carl occupied. It had ended with massive orgasms. And now—Cole and Gabe were at it in one of the other booths.

  “You’re all going to be the death of me,” Oliver mumbled, his head resting in his hands.

  Angel laughed. “What did we do? We’ve been out here the whole time.” The whole time Oliver had been here, anyway.

  Raising his head, Oliver stared at him. “What did you two do?” He snorted. “Just look at you—standing there in all your heavenly glory, fully aroused. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to keep my hands to myself when the two of you are so damn delicious?”

  Dane twisted his barstool and bumped Oliver with his knee. “Who said you had to keep your hands to yourself? This is a friendly party. We’re all friends here.” He chuffed, casting a quick look toward the V.I.P. room. “Well, most of us.”

  Oliver turned his way as their knees interlocked. Heat burned through his eyes.

  “Remember the first time we danced for you?” Angel whispered against the nape of his neck. He slid his fingers up the back of Oliver’s head, through his short strands. The man quivered.

  “I do,” Oliver rasped.

  “It was the first time Angel, and I danced together,” Dane murmured and ran his hands along Oliver’s muscular thighs. He smiled and leaned closer, dropping his voice to a whisper as he confessed, “That was one of the hottest dances of my life… I almost fucked Angel right there on top of you.”

  Trembling, Oliver groaned, “I was hoping you would.”

  Angel slid around Oliver and stepped between his and Dane’s legs, sitting his bare ass in Oliver’s bulging lap. He leaned his back against the man’s thick chest, craned his head and nuzzled Oliver’s ear. “So was I,” he breathed.

  “Oh yeah?” Dane crept forward, rising from the stool.

  “Uh… huh.” Angel shivered and, beneath him, Oliver trembled again, his cock swelling his pants. Dane came in closer and Angel parted his legs, slowly curling them around his husband’s waist, squeezing Dane’s flanks beneath his inner thighs… pulling him in tighter.

  “Oh, God…” Oliver whimpered as he tentatively caressed his palms along Angel’s supple thighs, and on up Dane’s bare body.

  Dane rested his arms on Oliver’s shoulders as he kissed Angel with swelling passion and rolled his hips, lightly thrusting his crotch against Angel’s hard cock.

  “After that dance…” Oliver panted shakily. “I fantasized about it… every day… every night… imagining the two of you… so fucking beautiful… making love in my lap.”

  “Did it feel like this?” Dane shuddered and pumped Angel’s crotch. They matched rhythm and dry-fucked each other—though neither was entirely dry.

  Oliver swallowed hard, found Dane’s ass and grabbed on, pulling him against Angel. “Fuck…” he whimpered. “Yes... yes, it felt just like this…”

  So in need of another fucking, Angel was two seconds from suggesting they move their threesome into one of the booths and give Oliver the real thing—when Lex and Carl returned, flushed and satisfied.

  Dane reluctantly backed off and sat on the stool.

  “Don’t let us stop you,” Carl said with a grin. “Looks like you were working up to something rather interesting.”

  “We were.” Angel pressed a warm kiss to Oliver’s ear and whispered breathlessly, “This isn’t over.”

  Chapter 8

  “Looks like your boy is enjoying himself.” Levi squeezed Hal’s cock and pulled his fist up to the head, rolled his palm over the sensitive tip a couple times, and stroked back down to the thick base.

  Hal shuddered. “Uh-huh.” He smiled. “Dylan is usually reserved out in public, but I guess Kim got to him.”

  “That Kim is a hell of a cute one.” Levi licked the underside of Hal’s shaft.

  “Fuck…” Hal swallowed as his cock stretched. His balls were already full and aching. He didn’t know how long he would last—and they’d hardly begun.

  “Lift up,” Levi urged then pulled Hal’s pants and briefs down his legs and off his feet. “Much better.” He settled himself between Hal’s bare thighs and buried his face in his crotch.

  “Shit…” Hal groaned when Levi sucked his balls and massaged his perineum. “Uuhh… fuck… that feels so fucking good…” Too good. There was no way in hell he could outlast the others—not with Levi tending to him. Even Dylan might hold out longer than Hal. He looked at his boyfriend and the ecstasy on his face. Well, maybe not Dylan.

  Levi lifted his damp balls and licked the smooth skin just below his sack—and Hal gasped, already so close to shooting his wad. One full dip of his cock down Levi’s throat and that could be “all she wrote” for Hal. To be honest, he didn’t care about winning. All that mattered at the moment, was getting blown by this hot stripper.

  . . .

  Oh fuck. Kim’s soft lips squeezed his cock head, his tender tongue massaging the tip as he stroked his fist up and down Dylan’s throbbing shaft.

  “Mmm…” Kim moaned, sending tiny vibrations through the hard muscle.

  I’m gonna fucking lose it…

  Dylan gouged the loveseat cushion, his shoulders digging into the back of the small sofa as he raised his hips—begging Kim to suck every inch of him.

  Smiling up at Dylan, the Asian boy sucked the head of his cock until Dylan began to tremble and pant—then released him and moved his mouth away from Dylan’s rigid, pulsing member. Kim kissed his inner thighs and lathered his balls with his tongue. Urging Dylan to lift his legs and rest his feet on the edge of the loveseat, he planted kisses on his ass cheeks and tongued his hole.

  Dylan trembled but his impending orgasm receded a fraction without direct attention to his cock.

  “Having fun?” Kim murmured against the back of his thigh.

  “Yes…” Dylan stared down at him, silently pleading for him to put his mouth on his dick again.

  “Me, too.” Kim’s smile stretched as he trailed the tip of his tongue through the crease of Dylan’s left leg and licked around the base of his shaft. “I love how you taste,” Kim moaned and teased the rope of muscle along the underside of his cock.

  I love how you taste me, Dylan thought with a whimper. The orgasm squeezed his balls again, knotting his groin. “Shit…” he panted and swallowed hard. “You’re so good at this.” He swallowed again, his chest rising and falling. “Too good. I-I don’t think I can win this. I already want to cum so bad.”

  “I think we can win.” Kim kissed up his stiff erection. “Both rounds. I won’t let you cum too soon.”

  Dylan whimpered, “I don’t know if I can help it.”

  “I’ll help you.”

  His head light and vision hazy, Dylan looked around the room. Hal clutched his chair, his legs spread wide as Levi repeatedly thrust him to the edge of orgasm. His face heavily flushed, Hal didn’t look like he would hold out much longer—Dylan knew “that” face; he might be the first to cum.

  Ricky and Matt appeared to be holding out fairly well—they could be the ones to beat. Tommy was with Samuel, and Caleb with one of Kim’s friends—a boy named Danny; black-haired and green eyed with a sculpted jaw and a perfectly straight nose, he was classically handsome. Danny looked about twenty or twenty-one, but Dylan didn’t know for certain. Both Caleb and Samuel were the ones being edged and seemed about as far gone as Hal.

  Kim’s friend, Julio—a Hispanic boy—had been partnered with Gavin. The two appeared lost in their own little fantasy world and not too concerned about winning the game, though they were playing by the rules.

  Quivers rippled through Dylan when Kim tongued his piss slit—the most sensitive spot on his dick. His short nails dug into the cushions and he ground the balls of his feet into the carpet, his body straining. “Uuh—God…” he gasped t
hickly as Kim began sucking the spot. He cupped Dylan’s balls and massaged his sack, his middle finger rubbing his perineum. “This…” Dylan gulped, his breath ragged puffs. “This… isn’t helping me not cum.”

  Licking through his piss slit and over the tip of his cock, Kim drew back, releasing his testicles. He stroked his palms along Dylan’s thighs, kissing his damp, hot legs. He kept away from his crotch until Dylan again began to relax, the fire in his loins softening to embers.

  He panted erratically, heavy eyes on Kim’s face. “Ricky should have told us this was a game of torture.”

  Across the room, Ricky chuckled then engulfed Matt’s hard cock, stroked until Matt’s face pinched in sexual agony, then pulled off him and grinned. “It isn’t torture—it’s fun.”

  “Says you,” Matt groaned. “My balls are about to fucking explode.”

  “No shit,” Hal added tightly. “Mine, too.”

  From Gavin and Julio’s corner came–“Oh God-oh fuck-fuck-fuuuck!”–and Julio shot his wad with a whimper and a wail.

  Ricky snickered. “One down.”

  Soon to be two, Dylan thought, despite Kim’s assurances they would win. He didn’t see how that could possibly happen. His balls were so full and tight—another lick of Kim’s hot, wet tongue and he would explode in a geyser of cum.

  . . .

  Cole and Gabe returned to find an overheated Oliver swigging down an ice-cold beer—and Dane and Angel tense and sweating, fuck me now expressions plastered across their flushed faces. Cole looked to Carl for enlightenment. “What did we miss?”

  “Quite a lot, I think,” Carl said. “When we came back, these three were piled on top of one another, getting hot and heavy.”

  “It’s Christmas.” Dane grinned and wiped his brow. “We were just granting the man his holiday wish. Playing Santa and all.”

  “But it was you two sitting on his lap,” Lex pointed out. “Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

  Dane shrugged. “Semantics. A wish was made, and one was granted.”

  “Almost,” Angel corrected. “We haven’t delivered on it just yet.” He smiled at Oliver, cupped his face, and kissed his mouth. “We might be naughty Santas, but we’ll come through for you.”

  Oliver groaned. “Just cum for me and I’ll be happy.”

  “We’ll be happy, too.” Dane chuckled.

  “Shit,” Gabe said. “Let us watch and we’ll be happy.”

  Dane snorted. “Like you two would be content to just watch.”

  “Good point. Let us join and Oliver won’t just be happy—he’ll be giddy as hell.”

  Oliver rubbed his palm down his face. “I don’t know if could handle that much sexiness all at once. I’m pretty healthy but, fuck, a heart can only take so much.”

  “Just think how ecstatic Emmy will be when you come home sporting a fucking tree trunk in your shorts.” Gabe grinned. “Let the four of us at you, and we’ll give you an erection that’ll last through the New Year.”

  “And just to make it more interesting and fucking hot,” Cole added, “we could take it to the stage, make a show of it. I guarantee you it’ll be a thousand times hotter with an audience… all those horny men worshipping your powerful, god-like body. You’ll be so fucking hard by the time you leave here tonight—you won’t be able to get out of bed for days.”

  Oliver stroked his jaw, gazing at the eager strippers. Cole had become acquainted with Oliver and Emmy over the past few months, an acquaintance that quickly turned to friendship. The man was wholly devoted to his wife—a woman who understood and supported his “fetish” for gay strippers. As far as Cole knew, Oliver had never fucked a man—even before he married Emmy. But he sure as hell loved the tease of hot naked boys. It seemed to be the one thing above all else that got him to maximum erection.

  Cole didn’t entirely understand how a man could love something so fucking much—and not indulge in it all the way. But to each his own. He would never encourage Oliver to dip his wick in a hot boy’s ass—thus cheating on his wife. Cole and the others were happy to simply feed his fantasies while, afterwards, he took his passion home to Emmy.

  “I won’t be required to dance or anything of the like, right?” Oliver asked.

  “No, no,” Cole said. “You’ll leave all that to us.”

  “I’ve never been on stage before.” Oliver smiled. “What if… parts of me… get stage fright?”

  “No worries, my friend.” Cole laughed. “Once we start in on you, your fun parts will jump for joy.”

  . . .

  Dylan stretched out a tentative hand and ran his fingers through Kim’s soft bleached hair as the Asian boy kissed up and down his thighs and all around his erection. Tommy and Samuel were out of the game, and Caleb and Danny seemed about to go—or cum—as well. Dylan expected Ricky and Matt to win. Hal looked like he was about as far gone as Dylan, so it was a tossup who would outlast the other. If Hal didn’t cum soon, though, Dylan was sure to lose between the two of them.

  “Relax,” Kim whispered. “We got this. You’re doing great.”

  Doing great? Dylan was a quivering ball of sexual agony—his balls were quivering.

  “I-I don’t know…” he stammered thickly. “I’m so close…”

  Kim seemed unconcerned and wrapped his soft hand around Dylan’s cock, squeezed lightly, and stroked the full length of his shaft… up and down… then pressed his member against his lower stomach and proceeded to lick the hard muscle. Dylan whimpered, biting his lip. Kim blew on his wet dick then with the tip of tongue, teased his piss slit again. Dylan jerked and gasped. He thought that this spot on a man was equivalent to a woman’s clit.

  “Fuck, baby…” He cupped the back of Kim’s head, wanting desperately to urge the boy’s mouth onto his dick. A steady stream of clear juice trickled from his cock head, oozing down his engorged shaft and wetting his tight balls. Kim licked up the wetness then sucked the tip of his dick. Dylan shuddered and shook as his balls pulled up tight against his body. “Oh fuck…” he swallowed hard. “Oh my God… Kim… uuhhh… I’m gonna—”

  Kim pulled off him and sat on his heels, caressing Dylan’s trembling thighs. His cock curved rigidly toward his stomach, thick veins snaking up and down the hard flesh as light pulses surged along the muscle, pumping out pre-cum. There was a tremor in Kim’s touch and the boy’s crotch sported a massive bulge. The fever in his eyes sparked doubt in Dylan that the boy could hold out for long once it was Dylan’s turn to edge.

  “Holy fuuuck!” Caleb shouted out and came. Danny swallowed his cock as Caleb grabbed his head and urgently fucked his mouth, his face tight, jaw clenched as he emptied himself down his partner’s throat.

  “That isn’t helping,” Hal groaned, unable to tear his eyes away from the hot scene.

  No, it wasn’t.

  Caleb shuddered and sagged against the chair while Danny sucked him a little more then sat back and wiped his mouth. Dylan desperately envied Caleb—he so fucking bad wanted his cock in Kim’s throat as the boy sucked the cum from his aching balls.

  Hal gouged the chair as Levi teased his fat cock with his slick tongue. “Uuuhh… fuck… I can’t… I can’t-I can’t—” Before Levi could pull back, Hal yelled out and blew his wad, ropes of cum shooting into the air. “Shiiittt!”

  Levi grinned and engulfed his pulsing cock, pumping up and down, swallowing his juice.

  “Oh God…” Dylan moaned. Sweat trickled from his brow and down his temples. When Kim moved in on him again, he went lower to Dylan’s balls. His hot, wet mouth wrapped around his full nuts, his soft, strong tongue massaging Dylan’s testicles. “Oh fuck… uuhhh yes… fuck yes… don’t stop… don’t stop… I wanna cum so bad…”

  His hard balls popped from Kim’s mouth and the boy lathered his tongue around the thick, hard base of Dylan’s shaft.

  Across the way, Matt clawed the cushions beneath him, his body trembling with the same need coursing through Dylan. The two of them stared at one another, each willi
ng the other to cum first. Matt clenched his jaw, eyes squinting, neck cords straining as Ricky twirled his tongue around the swollen crown of his cock.

  Dylan went rigid when Kim began licking his dick like it was a fucking lollipop.

  Matt’s face twitched, lips tightening, throat working as his breath began hissing raggedly through his teeth. His eyes bore into Dylan, his chest heaving.

  Just cum already! Dylan screamed in his head.

  “Fuck!” Matt grunted—and shot cum all over Ricky’s mouth. Ricky grinned and sucked him balls-deep into his throat, devouring his load.

  Yes… yes… fuck yes… now I can cum…

  “Please…” Dylan whimpered at Kim. “Please-please-please—let me cum!”

  The other boys laughed.

  Kim smiled and kissed the tip of his wet dick—then slid his mouth over the head, going down… down… until Dylan’s cock bumped the back of his throat.

  “Oh fuck yes—yes—yes!” Dylan shoved his hands into Kim’s hair and grabbed fists of soft, blond, blue-tipped strands. His hips pumped as the boy vigorously sucked his hard, throbbing flesh. Those watching cheered them on as Dylan gasped and grunted and shouted as he shot his load down Kim’s throat. Kim used hands and mouth to draw out every last drop of cum, sucking and stroking until Dylan wilted against the loveseat, body slick with sweat and chest heaving.

  Kim sat back and licked his lips, eyes glowing. “I told you we’d win.”

  Chapter 9

  “Oliver, I have to ask,” Carl said, “if you’re not gay, then how did you develop a thing for gay strippers? I would think you’d prefer the lady strippers.”

  Angel leaned against the large man and rested his chin on his shoulder. “I’m curious about that, too, ‘cause you sure seem to love what we do to you—like a true blue, through and through gay man.”

 

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