There’s a particular kind of exasperating online bottom whom I recognize as the sort who never intends to get naked with me. He never intends to meet. In fact, he never intends to leave the safe warm glow of his computer monitor, but wants to sit there until the end of time, whacking off and asking tops this question within the first three sentences of conversation:
Do you know any other top guys you can whore me out to?
My answer to this not-so-rare breed of men is usually polite and couched in as soft and reconciliatory a form as possible, keeping in mind my experience that these guys never show up and never want to do anything but masturbate to their fantasy of being a bad boy to multiple men. And my carefully-worded answer is thus: NO.
Then I pretty much stop talking to them.
Here’s my thing about bottoms who want more than one top. Number one: do you know how very difficult it is to find another top in some cities? If a top guy asked me to find multiple bottoms for a party I could swing a bottle of lube and knock over a dozen volunteers without even opening my eyes. Tops though, are in pretty short supply. Number two: even if I did find a couple of other guys willing to top, do you know how hard it is to coordinate a time when they can all show up? Number three: do you know how many will flake out?
My sorry little preface is all because contrary to what I just said, Monday I went to my third gangbang in a week. All three had one bottom and multiple tops. So maybe I’m just a big ol’ crab who doesn’t like to throw parties.
I only went to the Motel 6 gangbang, Monday afternoon, because I very much like the top who was throwing it. Phil is a lean, tall top—leaner and taller even than I—with a bald head and a dark red goatee that makes him look like a mean fucker. He’s a hell of a nice guy, though. A good kisser. Friendly. And when he hosts a party, I go if I can and contribute a load or two to his pet bottom for the day. He enjoys watching me fuck, I get to pump out a load, and the bottom gets a load in his hole.
It’s a networking thing. It’s all about networking.
I didn’t have much time this afternoon to play—and frankly, after two gangbangs last week I really wasn’t in the mood for another big group. I’d been craving some tender one-on-one sex for days, and my Scruffy hasn’t been available. The impersonality of a group just wasn’t satisfying-sounding for me. However, like I said: networking. So I went right at the party’s start, knocking on the Motel 6 door precisely at three o’clock in the afternoon.
Phil opened the door and smile. He was naked save for a yellow jockstrap and a pair of boots. “Well hey,” he said. “Right on time.” He closed the door quickly behind me so that the men working on the dumpster directly across couldn’t see. “Usually it’s the best for last. This time I guess we got the best for first,” he said to the bottom.
I looked across the room. On the bed was a good-looking guy wearing a blindfold. His hair was crispy and spiky from gel, and he knelt on the bed with his butt in the air already. On the bed beside him lay a number of toys—a couple of dildos, a butt plug, a leather paddle. A tub of lube and a squirt bottle sat on the bedside table. Phil had brought his portable sling and set it up in the middle of the hotel room. It was quite the setup.
“Got you a real big dick for the first one,” said Phil to the bottom. “Turn around and get him hard.”
I unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans and let the bottom get to work. I didn’t know his name. I couldn’t tell much about him other than he had a fairly good body and appeared to be in his mid to late thirties. He sucked me to hardness in a matter of seconds, though. “Now I’m gonna rim your pretty ass,” growled Phil into my ear. He shoved me over.
It was kind of tough to find a position in which I could feed the bottom my dick while giving Phil access to my hole, but at last we all compromised on me leaning over the bottom’s shoulders and back while he continued to suck, and Phil prying apart my ass so he could spit on it and probe it with his tongue.
3:05. I slapped some lube on my dick and turned the bottom around so I could fuck him. Phil reached out and guided my dick in. I was still in my pants and shoes when I knelt on the bed to ease forward; Phil yanked off my Chucks and then removed my pants and shorts and placed them all in a neat pile in the corner. When I started fucking, he went back into rimming position and drove me absolutely crazy by licking and sucking at my hole and nuts while I slid in and out of the bottom soft, smooth butt.
3:12. I pulled the bottom up to his knees at the bed’s edge, so I could give Phil the show he really wanted. He likes to throw these parties for the up-close-and-personal porn. The more up close and more personal, the better. When Phil saw me standing up and slow-dicking the bottom from behind, he shouted, “Oh yeah!” and threw himself down onto the motel room’s carpet. He settled his head on the box springs and stared up between our legs, watching me slide in and out of that ass from only inches away. I took long, slow strokes so he could see every inch gliding; I took tiny stabs so that just the head popped in and out of that outer ring. I ground my hips from side to side. Every conceivable motion I could have used to fuck that hole, I employed, all so Phil could enjoy.
“Gimme a taste,” Phil begged. The bottom had only moaned softly the entire time. I don’t know whether he was under orders to remain silent, or whether he was just in a dick-induced haze. I let my dick flop out; the tip struck Phil on the nose. Greedily he gobbled it down and sucked off the bottom’s ass juices before he shoved the tip back into the hole. For a few minutes more I alternated between the bottom’s butt and Phil’s hungry mouth.
3:20. Phil had to get up to answer a knock at the door; in walked Jeremy, a reed-thin black kid I’d fucked before. “Good to see you,” I said, nodding at him. Jeremy blinked a few times as he walked past to find a place to undress. Phil didn’t even greet the guy. He was too busy closing the door and rushing back to lie down and watch me finish.
3.24. While Jeremy stroked his monster dick to hardness, Phil licked at my nuts until I felt the old familiar feeling beginning to churn in my nuts. My breathing hastened; my pace quickened. I didn’t have an earth-shaking orgasm, but it was nice and sweet and doubly tingly from the mouth still playing around my balls. I emptied deep inside the bottom and remained there for a moment. I could feel my load, the bottom’s first for the day, oozing out around my dick and down my sac, where Phil was ready to receive it. “C’mon,” Phil said, urging me to pull out. “Give me what I want. You know what I want. It’s all I ask.”
Phil likes to rim a load out after it’s been deposited. That’s his price for admission to these things. He’ll pay for the hotel and the lube and order the extra towels and bring the sling and the toys and set up and tear down. All he asks is that the guys shoot their loads in his bottom and allow him to clean them out with his mouth and tongue. Who am I to argue with that? “You taste so fucking good inside him,” Phil said to me. His words were muffled by the fact that his face was firmly planted in his bottom’s hole. “So fucking good.” Like a baby sucking at a mother’s nipple, he moved his face back and forth, back and forth, nursing out all the seed. I ran my hand over his head and breathed heavily until he was done.
3:27. While I was putting on my clothes, the fuck bus let off its passengers, apparently. Jeremy was fucking when Phil answered the door, and four guys walked in. Mikey was one. I’d fucked one of the others, but didn’t know the other two. They hadn’t actually driven together. It was just coincidence that they’d all arrived at the exact same time. “You gotta leave already?” Mikey asked.
“You missed your brother’s performance,” Phil said to him. He’s another of the ones who knows about Mikey and me. As did all the other men in the room, after that statement. Phil slapped me on the ass and went to watch Jeremy fucking. I’d done my duty for the day.
“I’ve got to go,” I told him, giving him a peck on the cheek.
“I missed it?” He sounded put out.
I gestured to the three men already naked, and the three others in various stages of undress. “I think you’ll have plenty to keep you occupied.”
Sometimes Mikey acts like he’s my junior. “But I don’t know any of these guys,” he growled at me, trying to keep it quiet.
I clapped him on the shoulder before I left. “Networking, Mikey,” I told him. “It’s all about networking.”