Orgy

 

ORGY

 

 

I open the door and enter the Elusive Scoundrels Pictures reception area. The studio owned by Alpha Man.

Coming from outside, my eyes need a moment to adjust to the lower light. I hear the voices before the faces fill in. Asian girls of every shape, skin tone, color, and size lounge around some sofas. One dark-skinned girl with waist-length black hair is dressed in a bright floral print dress and a crown of flowers on her head. Some girls are dressed in sweats, some dressed in designer fashion. All of them are evaluating their options.

Today’s scene is an orgy. For these events, girls typically have a limitation to the number of boys they will fuck within the scene…unless more money is offered. Among these girls are a hand-full of black men who are fighting for position. Though the pussy is guaranteed, boys preen and seduce; each one doing his best to show why he’s the most desirable mate.

Someone notices me standing at the door and the seduction, pathos, and negotiating stops. A score of eyeballs burn into a singular point. Me. Some girls smile. Others play coy but their body language betrays them. The Flower Girl flat-out stares at me, mouth open and googly eyed. The other men grumble, suck their teeth and sigh. One man takes his preening rituals up a few notches and struts between me and the girls, talking loud. In his Borealis-blue track suit, he resembles a chortling peacock on the make. The girls ignore him.

Alpha Man bursts into the reception area from the office proper to coordinate who will be working with whom, and how many partners each girl will work with. The girls point to me. All of them. Obviously, all girls on me cannot possibly work out for an orgy. Negotiations, barters, begging and ultimatums ensue from all parties as I hide in a corner making myself invisible.

For the disruption my presence is causing, Alpha Man is probably contemplating choking me out and dumping my groggy ass in his warehouse while they drive to the location without me. He shoots me a look that can cut steel.

After a while this studio’s male contract porn star, Mitch Adams, strides in from the warehouse. He’s a master negotiator, and because of this I have never been so happy to see another male talent. He cuts the tension by selling the virtues of the other men in the room to the girls. Guys sitting on the sidelines like 5th graders picked last for kick ball are now popular. All is forgiven as Mitch coordinates a flow chart of sex partners to everyone’s satisfaction.

     #

     I’m standing in the eye of the Orgy. Wet sounds of sixty nines and blow jobs all around me. On my little sex island, Alicia Lee and Belinda Rose are both on their knees slurping away on my cock as if to establish who the best little cocksucker in Christendom is, and I’m dying, trying not to come. If you come too soon, you will be fired on the spot and your reputation as a professional male talent will be ruined. My eyes rove the room in an attempt to divert my attention from what is happening to me.

Everything looks surreal under the bright Keno Flo lights, washing reality in a garish, cartoon flavoring. Colors are punched up. Edges sharpened. Sweat glistens. One Asian girl (named Asia) double fists another guy’s whale cock as it flips to-and-fro in her hands. It’s an X-rated hentai cartoon with a girl wrestling a tentacle!

Below me, the swap-sucking continues. One girl is gracious enough to hold my dick in place while the other girl assaults it. Belinda then stands to kiss me leaving Alicia on her knees to attend to my dick, solo. Lazy arms draped across my shoulders. Me cupping a firm, young ass. I drift in the moment.

I guide Belinda down to the floor and fuck her where she lie’s. I cover her with my body, turning myself into a man-blanket, only to be chided by Jackson, a camera man, that “I can’t see shit! Open up for the camera.”

“SWITCH!”, screams Alpha Man from behind another camera.

The game of musical cocks begins. The girls all make dashes crisscrossing the room to their next fuck partners like door busters on Black Friday. I see a Korean girl, Lena, who insisted on sticking with only two guys, including me, look at me with pleading eyes from across the blur of bodies sprinting across the space between us. Before I can react, a tiny hand with alarming strength tugs at my arm, dragging me away. I give Lena an I’m sorry shrug as I am pushed down into the sofa. The reality is I probably would not have fucked her anyway because I had her before in another scene…Old pussy.

I’m looking up at a pair of eyes peeking out at me from behind a cascade of sweat-drenched hair. The familiar warmth of snug vagina encircles my penis. I sit there while she bounces up and down on my dick, getting off several times. A few girls nearby our spot in the orgy stop to watch as this kid flows from orgasm to orgasm.

“You go girl! Get you some!” cheers one of the other girls. Occasionally, I actually fuck her back, but the reason I‘m conservative with the fucking is the girl has a death grip pussy. If I fuck her back and I pop, I’m done for.

Moans, more akin to a zombie invasion than a fuck-fest, fill the air from all corners of the room, punctuated with staccato squeals. The girl on top of me humps away. This kid is killing me. Everything in me is telling me to come in her but I fight it. I divert my focus…It’s really hot under these lights…I’m sweating. Wet slapping sounds of bodies crashing into each other surround me.

My balls twitch in preparations to unload. Not yet!

“SWITCH!”

Thank you, Jesus!

Before I can move, another girl lowers her hot muff onto my dick. Mercifully, she is not anywhere near as snug. However…

What the hell is my dick bumping into deep inside her pussy?

Reading the question mark on my face this girl says, “Oh…I’m on my period. Is the sponge bothering you?”

“Not at all.”

I’m just happy to get a break in the action.

Another coupling occupies a spot on the sofas next to us mirroring the same cowgirl position. Two pistons, side by side, in hypnotic up and down action. Keeping myself busy, I grab a breast dangling in front of me. Damn…Fake. I suppress the desire to laugh as I recall an earlier conversation between two girls in the Alpha Man’s waiting room:

“Wow, your tits look amazing. Are they real?”

“Of course they’re real!!”

“SWITCH!”

Still on my back, this time stretched across the same sofa. Two different girls. Random Girl Number One smothers me with her ass on my face. She and Random Girl Number Two lick my cock in tandem as  beautiful curtains framing bubble gum pink dangle in front of my nose. I lick. Can’t see who is doing what, but you can feel that they have two distinct fellating styles. A tongue up and down one side of my shaft, while lips encircle the head.

“Sonoavabitch!” from somewhere across the tempest. Somebody has come too soon. There is always one. Arguing erupts.

“I’m okay! Gimmie a minute to recover!”

“Get the fuck off of my set, you goddamn mope!”

Better him than me.

“SWITCH!”

The fucking flowchart order is fucked to hell, so this time it’s Tyler’s choice. I want Alicia. A rival turns to my quarry. Fuck. That! I sprint, balls flapping and cock swinging, across the room and tackle a giggling Alicia Lee! I bend her over.

We lock together doggy style. She is shit talking. Taunting me while we sprint-fuck at the upper limits of my Viagrad-up heart.

“Fuck me damn it!”

“I am!”

My lungs burn as they fight to keep up the exchange of stale air for fresh.

“Harder! Fuck me like you mean it! C’mon, give it to me! Give-me-your-cock!”

The smell, once only on the periphery of my consciousness, now takes its place front and center of my senses. A unique bouquet of pheromones, assholes, balls, sweat, and pussy, all stirred up and baked under the Kino Flo lights. Inebriated by the musk of animal lust, I want to beat my chest and howl.

The Tourette’s-afflicted Alicia says, “Yeah motherfucker, that’s my spot–no don’t slow down, you idiot! Ugh, you suck at fucking!”

Alicia flexes her Kegels. She aims to pop me, and she will if I am not vigilant. We’ve been locked together into this position for several rotations now, ignoring the calls for “Switch!” Same nerves on my dick being stimulated over, and over. Her pussy heats to the friction.

She coos, “There, there, it’s okay.”

Somebody call “Switch!”

Alicia, talking shit, does not give me the option of zoning my mind out. Each time I’m on the brink, I attempt to compartmentalize my environment and what is happening to me. Each time, she finds me and drags me back to the orgy. No escape.

I’m a professional…I cannot let this girl make me pop too soon…I made it this far!

The hormones and chemicals soaking my brain mix lust and fear. Fear that if she does pop me I will be humiliated like the mope that got fired earlier. Reputation in this business is everything, and a fuck up this early in my career will cost me my livelihood or, at best, send me back to the bukkake line. I make an error of looking down…A heart-shaped ass wrapped in golden skin. Sweat beads skip and bounce, sliding into a pooling in a reservoir on her lower back…A tan line shaped “T”; the top of the t spreads out across her hips and the stem plunges down into the crevasse…My hands gripped around her hips. Fingers digging into her flesh. My eyes lose focus and my balls twinge.

Dear God, I’m gonna co–

“CUT!”

Teetering on the edge of bliss, I withdraw myself from Alicia with great care, but she reaches back and claws my side, fighting for my dick me like a snarling hyena on a bone. I’m free.

Pop shot time.

The girls all kneel side by side. The men file behind one another to one-by-one jerk off into the starlet’s faces.

And that would be me, last in line, standing in front of the kneeling, drenched women. Torqueing my dick. Unable to come. This is almost funny.

The pop shots are all timed. Timed in the sense that the director’s dream is to get every pop shot off within seconds of each other. Timed also in the sense that I know they are running out of tape. This pressure is not conducive to getting off. It is cruel being a man sometimes. Being a male porn star is worse. Having to save my one shot for when it is most convenient for someone else. I know there is nothing erotic about stroking off to girls drenched in other men’s come. So I choose to not see them. I shut my eyes.

Stroke-stroke-stroke-stroke…

Sounds of snowballing–come swapping between the girls–enter my ears. I’ve learned from experience with a bukkake that I have to keep my eyes shut at all costs.

I stand over the last girl who is drenched in come, almost ready to glaze her face with my load. If coming too soon is the worst, then coming last in an orgy is a close second. I go into my mind and conjure up images of Alicia, doggy.

Stroke-stroke-stroke…

An unseen girl says to another girl, “Mm mmm. Lemme lick that come off your chin!”

Shut the fuck up!

stroke-stroke-stroke…

Swishing sounds.

Almost there–

stroke-stroke…

Cum gargling.

I find my groove and release my load.

Two hours of non-stop fucking.

I hate pussy.

     As soon as my pop, the last pop, is delivered, Alpha takes his hand-held camera and asks the girls to rate each guy and how he fucked her. The mini feuds that I was oblivious to during the orgy surface. Some men rate a two out of ten. The kid that came too soon gets a zero. Mitch, whom all the girls love gets an average score of a nine. I get an eight. Can’t please everybody.

As I’m gathering my clothes, I’m accosted by Sponge Girl.

She says, “Can you help me get the sponge out of my pussy? It’s stuck!”

No, I just want to go home.

“Sure, let’s go to the bathroom.”

I’m on my knees, neck twisted askew while I pry this snatch open with one hand and fish for the sponge with the other hand. Sponge Girl is sobs. After exhausting every possible combination of fingers and angles, I’m convinced this girl’s vagina is an Event Horizon from which no foreign matter will ever escape.

Crying her lungs out, she says, “I don’t want to die of toxic shock. You have to get it out!

Sweat drips from my brow and splashes onto the floor. My neck twists at an angle to get an improved vantage of the inside of her vagina…No bueno. I dig back into her, this time getting a finger on the elusive sponge.

“Is that a makeup sponge you put in your pussy?”

“Yeah.”

Christ…I should just leave her here to die.

After an eternity of her wails echoing off the bathroom tile and assaulting my ears, I scoop the sponge out. It plops into my hand in a red gooey mess. She dashes out of the bathroom without as much as a thank you, leaving her period sponge in my palm. Being a male porn star is so glamorous.

The house seems empty. Talent has headed to Alpha’s Elusive Scoundrels office to get the pay checks. I find an empty bed room and attempt something I’ve always wanted to try. It has been said that Ron Jeremy could suck his own dick. Using a wall for support, I flip my legs over my head. I stick out my tongue.

Damn!…Just a 1/2 inch more–

Just then, the lights come on with a flick!

The bedroom floods with light, and from my upside down point of view I see porn stars that still have some fucking left in them enter. Other naked people whom I had no idea were in the room scurry about like roaches.

And then there’s me. Asshole in the air. Trying to suck my own cock.

 

END.

1 comment

Comments are closed.