by C J Bishop
Oliver chuckled. “Well, there is a story behind it.”
Dropping onto a stool, Cole grinned. “Tell us, please. I’d really like to hear this one.”
“I don’t know how dramatic it’ll be,” Oliver said.
“That’s okay. We just need our curiosity satisfied.”
“All right, then.” Oliver cleared his throat. “Before Emmy and I got together—in our first year of college—I had never experienced any kind of sexual or romantic attraction to men. It didn’t even cross my mind that a man could turn me on.” He took a drink. “When Emmy and I decided to get married, my buddies threw me a bachelor party at a strip club.”
Gabe smirked. “Anything like our bachelor party?”
“Close,” Oliver admitted. “Except with female strippers. They could just about give you boys a run for your money when it came to dirty dancing. I’d only been to a strip club once or twice before that night, and it had been nothing like what my friends planned for me. They stripped me down to my underwear while the girls stripped nude and shoved their goods in my face. That night, I became addicted to strippers. But as much as I loved the teasing and how hard it got me—I also felt guilty. I loved Emmy more than anything, but at the same time, I seriously lusted for these strippers as they literally rubbed their tits in my face and rode my lap without a stitch on. I could smell their heat and it drove me wild.”
Cole nodded. “Understandable. The human body responds to sexual stimulation quicker than anything.”
“True. But by the time they finished with me—I was so far gone, I’m convinced I would’ve fucked them if they had let me.” He shook his head, guilt and regret shadowing his eyes. “Thank God that wasn’t an option. The next day—my wedding day—I felt like total shit, and not because of the amount of alcohol I’d consumed the night before. Even though it’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony, I had to tell Emmy the truth. I hadn’t actually done anything, but God knows, I’d wanted to. And it tore me up inside. In the light of day and fully sober, I felt sick to my stomach that I even considered having sex with anyone but Emmy.”
“How’d she take it?” Dane murmured.
“A lot better than I deserved,” Oliver said. “I begged her forgiveness and promised I would never set foot in another strip club for as long as I lived if she’d give me another chance and still marry me.” He sighed. “Problem was, at the time I made that promise, I had no idea how hard it would be to keep it. I didn’t tell Emmy about my struggles. I didn’t want her to think I was fantasizing about cheating on her—I wasn’t. But I still craved that… decadent seduction.” He smiled at the surrounding guys. “No offense, and I mean that.”
Gabe laughed. “No offense taken. This is a profession of decadent seduction—that’s what draws in the customers. Who doesn’t want the attention? To feel sexy and desirable?”
Oliver finished his beer. “Emmy wasn’t naïve, though. Nor was she blind. Not long after we got married, I was invited to a friend of a friend’s bachelor party. I knew there would be strippers—when aren’t there at bachelor parties? As much as I wanted to go, I politely declined. My friend did his damnedest to get me to go, but I continued to refuse. Finally, Emmy told me I could go, said she trusted me, but I saw the concern in her eyes. I wanted to just say no to my friend and stay home where I belonged. But the pull—the promise of seduction and ecstasy—was too much, and I went along.”
Cole and the others remained silent, waiting for Oliver to reveal what happened at that party. A knot formed in Cole’s gut and it struck him how badly he wanted Oliver to say he hadn’t cheated on his wife. With a spouse of his own now, he understood the gravity and grief of infidelity. He and Gabe occasionally invited a third party into their bed, but never was it okay for either of them to fuck someone else without the other one participating or at least present. For all the Phoenix couples, unfaithfulness would gut them from the heart out.
“When we arrived at the party and I realized that, like my own bachelor party, it was at a strip club—something inside me clicked. The desire to go inside and become immersed in the atmosphere was as strong as ever… but back home I had the most amazing woman in the world waiting for me, trusting in my love for her.” He cleared his throat. “I told my friend that I changed my mind and I was going home. When he pressed me, I explained why. Rather than exhibiting compassion or even sympathy—he was amused. It kind of pissed me off at first because I thought he was mocking me for wanting to be faithful to Emmy.” Oliver smiled small. “But it wasn’t that at all.”
Angel stared at him, completely engrossed in the story. “What was it?”
“He urged me to come inside with him and promised that I wouldn’t regret it. I had my doubts but went along. As soon as I entered the club, I was struck with this powerful sexual tension and I started to grow uneasy—until my buddy directed my attention across the club. Two young, oiled up boys burned up the stage—and an entirely male audience hollering for more.” He chuckled. “The friend of my friend was gay, and his bachelor party was at a gay strip club.”
“So… what?” Dane grinned. “You just went with it?”
“Not at first,” Oliver admitted. “I was a little uncomfortable. I mean, I was fine with gay men, but I’d never been in that type of atmosphere that didn’t involve women. But when I saw my straight friends having fun with the strippers, some of them engaging in dirty dancing and lap dances… it started to get to me. Not in a bad way. Rather, I realized I was getting turned on. One of the strippers approached me and asked if I wanted a lap dance. I was hesitant but thought, what the hell?” He took a deep breath and looked at Cole and the others. “And that was it for me. The thrill of having a young man seduce me surpassed the effects of the female strippers by leaps and bounds. But as horny as it made me, I didn’t want to fuck him—I wanted to take all that raw passion back to Emmy and let her reap the benefits. And I did.” He chuckled. “Since that night, Emmy has been one-hundred percent on board with me visiting gay strip clubs. She knew I wasn’t gay and that I would never fuck any of the male strippers, even if they wanted to fuck me. It turned out to be the perfect arrangement for us both, and I haven’t been tempted by the lady strippers since.”
Angel hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Aw, us gay boys saved you. I love that story.”
Laughter swept through the men.
“Yes, you did,” Oliver agreed. “And this club here—it is a godsend. Not only can I get what I need, but I’m among friends who understand my limits and respect it. That means everything to me.”
“Emmy is awesome,” Gabe said with affection for the woman. “No fucking way we would ever try to compel you to cheat on her with one of us.”
“I know,” Oliver said. “And Emmy knows, too. She loves you boys almost as much as I do.” He winked. “Almost.”
. . .
“Go on and pick out a gift,” Ricky told Dylan and gestured to the Christmas tree. “Any one you want.”
Recovering from the experience, Dylan dragged his palm down his warm, damp face and grinned. “I love getting gifts.” He walked to the tree and looked at the wrapped packages underneath. Most of them medium to small. “I like blue, so, I guess… this one.” He picked up a small present with shiny blue wrapping and a silver bow and returned to the loveseat. “Do I get to open it now?”
“Hell yes.” Ricky laughed.
“Awesome.” He tore into the gift, peeled away the wrapping paper, and opened the box.
“What is it?” Hal leaned over eagerly.
Dylan showed him.
“Share with the class,” Samuel said. “What did you get?”
Dylan laughed quietly and plucked a four-inch bullet vibrator from the box and displayed it for everyone to see.
“Oh, those are fun.” Matt jiggled his eyebrows. “To use on your partner or yourself.”
Levi laughed. “Oh, yeah. And they’re travel size.”
“That isn’t all,” Hal said and plucked the sec
ond item from Dylan’s gift box. He grinned and showed it to the others. Dylan wasn’t entirely sure what it was—until Hal clarified. “A tongue vibrator.” He looked at Dylan. “Now this, we will put to good use.” Hal slipped it on his tongue and turned it on—and teased Dylan’s neck.
Dylan scrunched away and laughed, but his member hardened with the mere thought of that delectable little toy running up and down his dick.
“Just so you know,” Ricky said, “you’re allowed to use your new toys in the next round of the game.” He winked at Kim. “You’re in trouble, baby.”
Kim flashed a soft smile at Dylan. “I can’t wait.”
If Kim had used these “gadgets” on him in round one—Dylan would have shot his wad in about two minutes… or less. Maybe he shouldn’t use them on Kim.
“So, are we ready for round two?” Ricky squinted at Matt. “I sure as fuck am. Torture me, baby!”
Hal kissed Dylan. “I can’t believe you kicked my ass in round one.” Another kiss, stronger, deeper. “Don’t tell anyone,” he whispered, “but I’m rooting for you and Kim to win this one, too.” He kissed his ear. “I can’t wait to do this at home, just the two of us.”
“Me, neither,” Dylan murmured and kissed his mouth.
Hal grinned and winked, then rejoined Levi.
A small smile lingered on Dylan’s face when Kim sat down beside him on the loveseat. “He isn’t just some random boyfriend, is he?” Kim asked quietly. “You really love him.”
“Yeah.” Dylan’s smile stretched. “Yeah, I do. A lot.”
Kim stared at him as that glimmer of sadness skittered through his dark eyes once again.
“Are one of these guys your boyfriend?” Dylan asked. “Matt, Donny, Julio?”
“No. We’re just… work friends. I don’t know them very well outside of work.” He lowered his eyes. “What was it like?”
Dylan frowned. “What?”
The boy picked at his pant leg and mumbled, “What was it like in Chicago? The porn stars you met… were they nice?”
“Yeah. They were great. It was like hanging out with a bunch of friends.” He shrugged. “Well, friends with benefits, anyway.” He stared at Kim. “Why do you ask?”
Sighing, Kim raised his eyes and smiled. It didn’t seem entirely genuine. “No reason. Just wondering.”
I think you’re lying.
“If we’re all ready,” Ricky said, “let’s get started.” He eagerly flopped into the chair and spread his legs, a grin on his face as he gazed up at Matt. “Make it hurt so good.”
Levi broke into song. “Come on, baby, make it hurt so good, sometimes love don’t feel like it should, you make it—hurt so good.”
The boys laughed.
“Perfect theme song for this game,” Tommy quipped, and everyone heartily agreed.
Chapter 10
“Can I have your attention, please?” Cole stood on stage, holding a microphone. The guests quieted. “We have a special show for you tonight.” He gestured to Oliver, and the man joined him on stage. “Most of you know Oliver and his lovely wife Emmy—who opened their home and lives to the rescued children.”
The audience applauded.
“As many of you are aware, Oliver has a special appreciation for us gay strippers.” Cole grinned and shrugged. “Can you blame him?”
Hoots and hollers erupted from the small crowd.
“His wife appreciates us as well—especially when we send him home in prime working order.”
The guests laughed and applauded louder.
“With it being Christmas Eve and all,” Cole said, “we decided to help Santa out—him being so busy and all—and take care of Oliver’s Christmas wish ourselves. A gift from us to him—and his wife.” He chuckled. “She will be baking us Christmas cookies tomorrow for sure.”
Shouts and whistles echoed through the club.
“Here to help make his wish come true…” He gestured to the edge of the stage and Gabe, Dane and Angel joined him. The audience exploded with cheers. “Since Dane and Angel so graciously got him warmed up, we can get right to it.” He nodded at his husband. “Gabe.”
Gabe brought a chair onstage.
“Dane. Angel.” Cole smiled. “Will you do the honors?”
“With pleasure.” Dane nodded. The two of them commenced to strip away Oliver’s clothes to the extreme delight of the guests, until he stood there in nothing but his underwear—tight white boxer briefs that melded around his erection, accentuating its impressive proportions.
The crowd whistled, flinging out cat-calls.
“Damn.” Cole looked him over and exhaled hard. “Flex for us, Oliver, we want to see those muscles in action.” He glanced at the guests. “Don’t we?”
A flurry of—“Hell yeah!”—burst from the observing men.
Oliver chuckled and flexed his arms, his chest, his stomach.
Cole twirled his finger. “Show us that ass, baby.”
Turning his back to the crowd, Oliver went to flexing his glutes, and the guests went crazy.
Resting his arm on Cole’s shoulder, Gabe cleared his throat. “Any chance you’ll give us a glimpse of that perfectly sculpted derriere?” He pursed his lips. “Or are you too shy and modest?”
Too shy and modest? Angel suppressed a laugh. He and Dane had practically fucked on top of him right there at the bar—and Oliver had loved it. The man was neither shy, nor modest. And his reply to Gabe confirmed it.
“Of course,” Oliver returned without hesitation—and slid his briefs off his ass.
Gabe bit Cole’s shoulder and growled. “And flex it again…” he groaned.
Oliver struck a bodybuilding pose and manipulated his glute muscles, flexing for the viewing pleasure of the spectators. Angel shivered as the audience screamed.
“Fuck,” Dane mumbled with a half grin. “You could crack a walnut with that ass.”
Had Oliver been a gay man—he would’ve gotten multiple proposals tonight.
Releasing a long, erratic breath, Gabe wiped his brow. “All right, we better move this along before I lose my integrity and mount that ass.”
Cole laughed and patted Gabe on the back. “Down boy.”
Oliver pulled up his briefs to the dismay of his onlookers.
Clearing his throat, Gabe pointed to the chair. “Sit, you gorgeous hunk of a man.”
Oliver obeyed.
An impish smile on his face, Angel produced a pair of fluffy handcuffs and secured Oliver’s hands behind the back of the chair. He leaned over Oliver’s shoulder and kissed his cheek. “You’re in trouble now, sweetie.”
Turning his head, Oliver delivered a light kiss to Angel’s mouth. “Bring it on, baby.”
“You’re a beast.”
“You bring it out in me.” The corner of his mouth twitched as his hungry eyes fell on Dane. “You and that gorgeous husband of yours.”
“And Cole and Gabe?” Angel smirked.
“Fuck. They could bring out the beast in a puppy.”
Angel laughed. “That’s the truth.” He moved around in front of Oliver and straddled his legs, standing before him. He rested his hands on Oliver’s shoulder and smiled at him. “Sure you’re ready for this?”
“Am I sure?” His gaze drifted from Angel’s face down to his bulging thong. The older man groaned, leaned forward, and kissed his hardened crotch. “So fucking ready, baby.”
“Hey, no starting without us.” Dane walked over and stood behind Angel, pressing tight against his husband’s ass.
Oliver looked up, a notable haze forming in his eyes. “Wouldn’t think of it.”
“We better get in on this,” Cole said. “Before they steal the show.”
Angel sank down on Oliver’s lap and rotated his hips. Oliver whimpered and Angel smiled. “Do you like that?”
“Fuck.” Gabe snorted. “He’d have to be dead not to like that sweet little ass of yours rubbing all over him.”
Oliver groaned hard, his voice shaky. “What he said.�
��
The colored Christmas lights around the perimeter of the stage began to blink as music pumped from the speakers. Angel rose to his feet, still holding the man’s shoulders, his body picking up the beat of the music. “Hold on to your seat, baby,” Angel murmured. “We’re going to rock your world.”
. . .
His heart thumping erratically, Dylan watched Kim undress down to his underwear—a lacy, see-thru half-thong that Dylan found surprisingly sexy as hell. It hadn’t occurred to him that men could look so hot in “feminine” wear, but Kim pulled it off perfectly.
“Wow,” Dylan breathed as Kim sank onto the loveseat, his slender body as flawless as his face. “You’re… really beautiful.” Even the other boys had paused their own activity to stare at the Asian boy, quietly confirming Dylan’s observation.
Kim licked his lips then pressed them tight, a faint dampness gleaming his eyes. “I… am?”
Going to his knees, Dylan hesitated then rubbed his hand along Kim’s thighs, his skin baby soft. For a brief moment, Kim resisted when Dylan started to open his legs, then relaxed a fraction and allowed Dylan in. One glimpse of Kim’s inner thighs and Dylan understood his reluctance. Deep bruises marred his skin. Not fresh bruises, yet not so old, either.
Dylan swallowed and met the boy’s stare. “Kim…?”
Kim blinked and shook his head. “Let’s just play the game,” he whispered. “That’s all I want to do right now. I don’t… I don’t want to talk about…” His eyes flickered to his bruises and back to Dylan’s face. “Not right now.”
Blinking back a sudden sting in his eyes, Dylan nodded. “Okay,” he said quietly. “But… later? Will you tell me?”
Kim averted his gaze. “Maybe.” He leaned forward and cupped Dylan’s face and kissed him. “I’m okay. We can play.”
Dylan’s sexual enthusiasm waned a bit. How the hell had Kim gotten those bruises? Had he been… raped? Did rape leave those kinds of bruises? If not rape, then… what… extremely rough sex? Surely someone had to have done this to him.