Chapter 24: Cock-olate

The noise on the other side of the curtain became raucous; I knew from the previous discussions that we would be serving AFC Kerlon “plus guests” but a peek through the hole showed there were a lot of non-players. I heard the orgasm of the cameraman from behind me as Ryan brought the young gentleman to a breathless, groaning, deliciously-sounding orgasm.

It was almost a sweet thing to do. I could foresee a lovely footnote in an LGBT magazine: two guys who fell in love and it all started with a blowjob to a stray cameraman on a pornography set.

Although Ryan had always said he was “more straight than gay” and when I bumped into him with his new girlfriend they acted like they were very much into each other, he enjoyed the slurping cock way too much for him to not have homosexual romances.

Perhaps his blood was up, like mine was. Perhaps he would look back on that moment in the days and weeks to come and feel a tinge of shame, but I doubted it. He was a cock-hungry slut, like we all were.

And I wanted to join him. I wanted to suck that cute cock too, sliding my tongue over his soft skin and swinging sacks of cum. I felt a twinge of envy as Ryan’s mouth licked the glans and the took the length of the glistening white dick into his throat, drawing the cameraman into a beautiful orgasm that would have tasted so sapid and delicious.

Ryan licked his lips as he joined me peeping out of the holes; there were a lot more than just 24 players from AFC Kerlon, but the large dinner table looked like it seated well over 100. My eyes bulged as smartly-dressed men, some with masks on, seated, drawing water from the pitcher and into their glasses.

“Who...” I muttered. I tried to place them, but there a large Adonis-type figure tapped his glass at the head of the table; many of the men were just getting seated and he picked up a phallic-shaped microphone from the table.

“Gentlemen,” he roared; the sound came out of the speakers around me, and his eyes focussed on the camera next to my gloryhole. “Welcome to the Cup Final After Party.” His chest puffed out as his guests roared with bawdy laughter and jeers. “We have our victors, AFC Kerlon,” he gestured to the right hand side of the main table and waited for the muted applause to die down. “And we have representatives from other teams. We have sponsors, and we have dignitaries. We have some models. And we have fifty of our viewers. Guys, what other channel can take you from your home in the morning, treat you to a slap up dinner, a football match and an evening of raw fucking? GaySportsTV that’s who!”

I shuddered as I looked at the posse of men closest to the gloryhole. They whooped as he mentioned the viewers and I noticed the several masked men being sited at the end of the table.

The host rose from his chair. He walked out of my line of sight. “And we have some naked butlers and waiters,” he said. “And some of our players dressed as nice sissy maids. Do feel free to spank them!” The laughter was cruel. “Through here is the toilet. Two men chained for your enjoyment, expecting a fountain.” I was glad I wasn’t in that group.

“Then over here is the gloryholes.” I saw him move in front of the hole and rustle the curtain. His cock came through Ryan’s hole and my friend instinctively wrapped his lips around it. “Oh yeah,” he teased. “That’s the feeling of a fucking faggot sucking my cock. Give ‘em cum lads!”

His cock disappeared, much to Ryan’s annoyance. “Then there’s the shooting gallery. Naked men tied up and blindfolded. Reckon you can hit them?” I heard the sound of a ball being kicked; it sounded like the beach balls or “fly-aways” that were so common in seaside towns. The noise of one of my teammates squealing as it slapped against his flesh caused giggling and laughter.

“And lastly, there’s the fun and games after the meal, where we’ll really see some entertainment! Let the food begin!”

I saw a couple of my team-mates dressed in ludicrous maid’s outfits carry their starter, along with the naked butlers. It was demeaning, especially when moments after the plates were put down, grown men gorged their sexual horniness on smacking the exposed rumps of the reluctant cross-dressers across their knees.

The were forced into sucking the cocks and receiving the spanks from the winning party while the naked butlers, including Dmitri, navigated the flailing limbs with plates of hot food.

The noise in the room rose; it was a party atmosphere of debauchery and while some beers were brought out, no-one seemed to be getting drunk.

The “sissies” had their clothes removed; their bottoms rendered red raw and their flesh coated in whatever substances they could. They existed to be humiliated and the cameras caught every last moment in HD.

The logo of the television station was prominent, plastered over the walls along with hundreds of photographs. Horny fuckers the world over would masturbate to GaySportsTV in the background and hoarders of debauchery and filth would refuse to allow these videos to be forgotten. I knew then that I would be infamous, if I didn’t want to be famous.

But as they devoured their starters, Ryan and I were being painfully forgotten. Not since the host thrust his dick through the hole did we see any sort of action and the wild antics of the maids and the restrained men receiving balls fired at them seemed to distract the wanton men from the two eager sluts waiting for their cocks.

The gap between the starter and the main meal was enough of a cue; the first man was wearing a mask, a thin rake of a gentleman, dropped his trousers in front of my hole.

His cock was smooth and thin; hairless too. I sucked in his aroma: a strong, powerful man oozing pre-cum and giving a merest groan as my tongue swept over his frenulum. He was a fan, a subscriber and an aficionado of male-on-male humiliation. He’d probably jerked off to my blowjobs and that thought made me hard.

I sighed as my lips advanced down his shaft. I was spinning inside my own submission. He pressed his cock further into my mouth, sliding past my gag reflex. I wanted another cock pressing against my bud as I deep-throated our fan. I wanted more. I needed it.

I needed to be used like the disgusting slut I had become, feeling the twin penetration of two horny alpha men. I wanted to feel used.

But I had just the one cock. I adored his member, lavishing it with long licks and gentle sucking. My lips caressed his skin, my tongue stimulated his frenulum and I sucked on his glans, drawing him ever closer to filling my mouth with cum.

But I never got it. It was replaced by another: thicker, darker, earthier prick that skull-fucked me before denying me a squirt of cum. And another, and another.