Partying Again

Since Connie’s party had been the impetus for this one, she had offered to help us put it together, helping to gather cowboy hats and other gear. She was in the kitchen displaying some very realistic gun-belts and peacemaker revolvers that a friend in the local theater group had lent her when I came in.
“Lee,” Kara said, motioning me over. “Look at this stuff.”
There was a stack of black hats on the counter next to the belts and several bandanas in assorted dark colors.
“I’ve got your costume too.” Connie announced, reaching into a paper bag at her feet and withdrawing a white hat, black mask and red bandana. The mask had a Velcro closure and Connie noticed me looking at it. “The ultimate indignity,” She added. “The unmasking of the Lone Ranger.” She grinned. “I think that would be the perfect thing to happen right before all the guys jack-off into your mouth.”
I looked to Kara, my opinion on the matter evident in my eyes.
“I’m not sure we’ll do that part.” Kara said.
“But you have to.” Connie argued. “It was Denise’s favorite part. She’s still going on about it.” She turned back to me. “Think about it: the Lone Ranger is thrown down on the table after being humiliated by multiple ass-fuckings from his enemies and then unmasked so the bad guys know exactly whose mouth it is they’re cumming in.” She looked back and forth between us both. “It’s the perfect ending!”
“No.” I said, turning to leave the room. “Not this time.”
Connie followed on my heels, Kara coming more sedately behind her.
“But, you have to!” Connie pleaded. “For Denise.”
“No I don’t.” I announced over my shoulder and continuing through the living room and up the stairs to the bedroom. Not surprisingly, Connie followed along, pleading the whole way. She didn’t even turn to leave when I started removing my clothes. Had Connie not already seen me naked, I would have likely put on a pair of spandex shorts, my usual attire when people arrived. As it was I satisfied myself with being naked.
“Do I have to get on my knees and beg?” Connie asked.
Kara stepped up behind her, an ironic smile on her face.
“I wouldn’t do that.” She jokingly warned. “He’s quick on the draw with that thing.” Connie looked at her in confusion. “Besides,” Kara continued. “It’s never a good idea to get on your knees in front of a naked man.”
Connie’s eyes widened as she grasped the suggestive nature of Kara’s comment.
“If that’s what it takes.” She said firmly. “I’ll do it.”
“Excuse me?” I queried, uncertain of what I had heard.
“Better be in for the long haul then.” Kara smiled. “Because he’s no quickie.”
Connie turned to me.
“You want me to suck your dick?”
“Excuse me?”
Kara chuckled.
I shook my head in disbelief. Connie couldn’t have just asked me what I thought she had.
“How about in the show?” Connie asked. She looked straight into my eyes. “You do the finale like at my party and we’ll start this one with me sucking your dick.”
I didn’t have an answer I was so dumbfounded.
Kara was standing in the doorway, an amused smile on her face.
“That’s how the bad guys catch the Lone Ranger.” Connie suggested. “He’s getting a blow-job from a can-can girl. Me.”
I looked to Kara, who shrugged.
“It’s your call.” She said.
“Please.” Connie pleaded. “Denise is turning fifty. That only happens once.”
I sighed.

Denise had no idea that Connie was taking part in the performance, only that her best friend was helping to set things up. The conference room that Kara had gotten was on the first floor and was an extremely larger one than the one for Connie’s party with a much larger presentation board. I calculated that almost fifteen people could stand behind it and not be seen. That should supply plenty of cover for the five guys that were supposed to be coming, Jeffrey, Tim, Bob, Edward and the showstopper, Rene. On closer examination I found a very interesting aspect of the board was that in the center of it, a section three feet tall and five feet wide was designed to flip over, changing from corkboard to a projection screen. I found that rather ingenious.
Kara, Connie and I were prepping the room. We had decided to decorate more than we had for Connie’s party and we were setting fake cacti, coils of rope and southwestern tidbits everywhere. On the wall was a sign proclaiming the Last Chance Saloon was two blocks away.
“I’m glad Gary won’t be here.” Connie announced. Gary was her husband of twenty-four years. Kara glanced up from hanging another lasso.
“Why is that?” She asked.
“Because I haven’t agreed to suck his dick in twelve years.”
Kara laughed and Connie did too.
“Not to say he hasn’t asked.” She continued. “Nightly.”
I tried to stay out of the conversation. I knew only too well the price I was going to pay for Connie’s sacrifice. In fact, I was originally going to let her off the hook, mostly agreeing to the finale out of pity for her, but Kara had told me not to.
“If she’s willing to suck your dick in front of her friends,” Kara had told me that night in bed after Connie had left the house. “Let her. It can only improve the show and you might as well get at least that pleasure out of the whole thing.”
I had reluctantly agreed
“Just do me a favor,” She had continued. “Don’t hold back too long. We only have the conference room for the night.”
“Very funny.”
Letting the memory drift back into the past, I turned and looked at the room. Despite the obviousness of it being a corporate conference room, it did have a vaguely western air to it.
Kara looked at her watch.
“The guys should be arriving.” She said, “I’ll go bring them up.”
“I’ll be getting ready.” I informed her, as she headed out the door. I looked around the room for the costumes. “Where’s my outfit?” I asked. Connie had been bringing those, since her friend had entrusted the items to her keeping.
Connie motioned to the corner of the room where a large cabinet stood.
“In there.” She said. “Top right door.”

I was in my costume, if you could call it that, by the time I heard Kara knocking at the door. For some reason, I felt incomplete. Maybe if I had been wearing cowboy boots, it would have seemed more correct. I looked at my reflection in the window: white hat, black mask, red kerchief around my neck. My head looked like the Lone Ranger anyhow.
Connie opened the door for my wife and the procession behind her. Rene was there, and Edward, but Jeffrey, Tim and Bob were not. However, the two men I knew were followed by eight men I didn’t know, although their faces were familiar. It took a moment to place them as attendees from Jeff’s party.
“Jeff couldn’t make it, so he sent re-enf***ements.” Kara announced.
“And Tim is running late,” Rene chimed in. “But will pick up Bob on the way.”
I looked at the group as they filed past me. Evidently Jeff had warned everybody of the party’s theme as the extra men already wore western hats on their heads.
“Kara.” I called, trying to get my wife’s attention. She looked up at me from where she had gone to help Connie hand out neckerchiefs.
“Yes, Dear?”
“Would you come here?”
“Sure.” She excused herself from the mass of male bodies and came over to me. “What is it?”
“There are ten guys here.” I said.
“And two more on the way.” I added.
“Twelve is a good number.”
One of the men came by me, tying the scarf around his neck, his shirt and pants already undone. He smiled.
“You’re the guy from Jeff’s party.” He said with a pleased grin. “I remember your face.” I glanced up at him.
“You saw my face?” I joked.
“Sure did.” He replied. “I didn’t want to miss.”
My stomach lurched. Lovely. Kara gave me a lopsided smile and shrugged.
“At least they’ll know most of the drill.” She said.
From across the room, Connie looked up to us.
“Everybody will be here soon.” She announced. “Time to get in costume.”
“What costume?” One of the new guys laughed making a very good point. A hat and scarf is hardly a costume, more like a decoration.
Kara strode to the cabinet and got her attire out, laying it out on the table as she began to strip off her clothes. She was evidently going to be a Tonto variant, as her costume consisted of a suede vest with a single tie between the breasts, a tiny beaded loincloth that narrowed in the back to a thin band of suede that rested between the soft swell of her buttocks, a black wig, moccasins, and a headband with an eagle’s feather in it. Once she was dressed, she returned to the cabinet and pulled out a small French hat, brightly feathered with colorful ostrich plumes, pair of stiletto heels and a pair of fishnet hose. She tucked the shoes and hose into the hat.
“Here, Connie.” She called, tossing the tiny bundle to her friend. Connie caught it and looked at it in dread. I could tell she was seriously reconsidering her offer to be in the show, but Kara had already informed her that I would not do her required finale otherwise. That wasn’t entirely true, as I’ve already said I was going to let her off the hook, but I knew that Kara’s stance was the right one. Connie said she would do this and it was up to her to fulfill her promise.
As she passed me heading toward the big display board, obviously wanting some privacy as she stripped down at least, she gave me an ironic smile.
“And to think,” She began. “Except for Gary, nobody has seen me naked in over twenty years.”
“The show must go on.” Kara interjected wryly, stepping up beside me in her little Indian-girl outfit. Damn she looked good.

More people had arrived than I had expected. Denise was there, of course, with several friends, a few coworkers, both of her s****rs, her mother and three of her daughters. At first I was concerned until Connie assured me that Denise’s youngest daughter was twenty-three. I was still a little uncertain about performing for three generations of a single f****y. All in all there were fifteen guests, an exact match in numbers to our cast.
Kara had gone out to set the stage for Connie and me to appear, giving the audience a quick description of events up to the point where the show would start. I watched my beautiful wife through the thin crack alongside the revolving center of the board, proud of how she carried herself in her nearly nude condition in front of her friends and co-workers. As Catwoman, she had been fully clothed. As the Indian maiden, she showed a lot of her body. I could feel my cock hardening as I watched her.
“Oh, my.” Connie gasped beside me.
I looked to her and realized she was staring at my erect penis.
“I didn’t remember it being that big.” She said meekly a blush highlighting her face and a bit more.
I smiled, trying my best to assuage her discomfort.
“It’s not all that big.” I said, although I could understand her point of view. Connie was only about five feet, two inches tall and had the figure of a twelve year old, with tiny breasts that had just begun to sag, a narrow body and small hips. Whereas to my five feet, eleven inches, my dicks near eight inches didn’t seem so large, it was about the same size as Connie’s forearm.
Kara was just about to finish her introduction and was walking to turn off the lights. I looked to Connie again.
“Ready to go?” I asked.
Connie looked at my cock again, an expression of near-terror in her eyes. Then, sighed, closed her eyes, took a deep breath and stood straight, her head even with my shoulder.
“Let’s do it.” She said.
The lights went out and we moved quickly, me sliding up onto the table and Connie moving to straddle my head, taking my cock in her hand and lowering her lips to mere inches from the bulbous head. The lights flashed on and everybody at the table either gasped shrieked or made a choked sound of surprise; several called Connie by name, disbelief in their voices.
As Connie took the head of my cock into her mouth, another chorus of cries came from those watching. The voices grew silent as she continued to suck at my erection, her tongue slipping past her lips to stroke my rock-hard shaft. I could see Kara moving back around the table, preparing for the entry of the bad guys. She opened her mouth and extended her tongue, making a long stroking motion. I understood the meaning and lifted my mouth to Connie’s twat. As soon as my tongue swiped across her clitoris, she jerked, one of her stiletto heels flying off to hit the floor. A small laugh filled the room.
Either the laugh came as an insult to Connie, or she was beginning to get highly excited, because at that point, she started to enhance her performance. Moving her hands to my scrotum, she cupped one ball in each of her small hands, squeezing and rolling them as her mouth began to take long gulping swallows, pulling most of my cock into her mouth and down her throat. Kara’s eyebrows rose in astonishment.
It wasn’t long before Connie reached orgasm beneath the taunting of my tongue and she nearly screamed as she came, the only impetus to it was my dick deep in her throat.
Kara gave me a motion from the sidelines to hurry up and cum. I nodded lightly and closed my eyes, imagining my wife nude at the club the other night, riding my cock in front of an audience. I felt the deep burn of orgasm building.
“I’m cumming.” I whispered quickly to Connie, who pulled her lips from me and took my cock in both her hands, tugging at it wildly until, like a cannon, I exploded in her face, drenching her with my hot semen.
The resultant whoops of disbelief and pleasure were deafening. I thought to myself ‘you ain’t seen nothing yet’.
“Hey, Boys!” Kara cried out. “The masked man’s in here!”
The screams grew louder and I had to smile.
The next part went exactly as it should have, with the cowboys climbing atop me and pumping my ass with old west gusto while our audience alternated between spell-bound and shrieking in glee. Then, came the round-robin with the quick fuck-and-switch athletics.
Finally it was time for the finale and the guys went to flip me over. Rene and Bob went to turn me over and nearly let me slip off the table, trying to prevent a fall, I reached out to grasp at what I could and accidentally caught onto Kara, ripping her loincloth completely away and popping the tie on her vest. Though the audience thought it part of the act, I knew I had made a serious error.
Kara’s eyes grew hard. She had only had one drink before the show to ease her discomfort and now I had just left her essentially naked in front of the whole room. With a sharp movement, she tore the damaged vest from her body and then, ripped off my mask.
“Okay boys,” She said, forcing my jaw open. “Start shooting.” At her command the cowboys began their parade, alternating between who held me down, and who jacked-off in my mouth. When the circuit was done, Kara continued to hold my mouth open. “Come on, fellas,” She added. “This man’s our guest. Let’s buy him a few more rounds.”
And that was exactly what they did. While our audience watched in awe, each of the men came up to blast their hot, sticky cum into my mouth as many times as he could, until only Edward was still going and I was beginning to think he might never stop. Finally, thankfully, even Edward seemed spent and I gagged down the last of his fiery semen, as Kara clamped my mouth shut.
Denise cheered like a c***d who had just gotten that bicycle they had been waiting all year for, infecting the rest of the audience and setting up a huge round of applause.
Kara leaned down to my ear.
“Next time,” She said calmly, her anger gone with the measure of revenge she had taken on me. “Don’t touch my clothes.”
I nodded, trying to ignore the queasy, full feeling in my stomach.

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