Dont Be Afraid
- 2 years ago
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Wakes Don't Have To Be Sad Things free porn video
My friend Clyde passed away a few years ago. His prostate cancer returned and carried him away, rather quickly, it seemed. I went to his memorial service, of course. And while I was there sitting in a pew at the funeral home chapel I noticed a few familiar faces among his family and friends.
I couldn't put names to most of those faces because they were guys I'd met at Clyde's place. Several times when I had called up Clyde to see if we couldn't have a little fun time together, he was already with someone. And Clyde would ask that guy if they would mind if I joined them and usually the answer was in the affirmative. Once or twice, the same thing happened to me when I was there with Clyde at his house, And I would always give my assent, too. We'd had some great threesomes that way.
One guy's name I did remember, though. His name was Roger, and why that one stuck in my head is probably due to the fact he sported one of the most magnificent cocks I'd ever seen in my life, much less sucked on. So, when I saw Roger come into the chapel, I waved at him after I'd caught his eye. He smiled and nodded in my direction, then came down to the same pew I was in and we shook hands.
“Hi Roger,” I said. “I remember you. You sitting with anyone here?”
He shook his head as he sat down next to me. “No,” he said. “I wasn't sure I'd know anyone here.”
“I'm the same way,” I told him. “I do recognize a few guys I met at Clyde's place at different times, but don't know anyone's name. Except yours.”
He looked at me. “Yeah. I'm the same way. And I'm sorry but I don't really remember yours, either. But you do look familiar.”
“Yes,” I said. I told him my first name. “We met a Clyde's about a year, year-and-a-half ago. Had a good time.”
Roger chuckled. “Yeah. Always good times at Clyde's place.” He busied himself looking at the funeral home handout giving details of Clyde's life. I did the same. Soon the memorial service started and we didn't say anything else while it was going on. Among the details of his life the bulletin told us the news that Clyde's body was cremated, so there would be no burial procession to a cemetery.
After the service was over, Roger and I silently made our way to the lobby of the funeral home. Another man approached us whom I didn't recognize. He shook hands with Roger and then with me.
“Sure glad to see some familiar faces here,” the man told us. “You're friends of Clyde's, too, aren't you?”
“Yes,” I said. “Saw the obit in the paper and decided to come.”
“Me, too,” Roger said. He looked at the other guy and asked, “And you are...?”
“Steve,” the man said. He looked over his shoulder at the other people in the lobby. It almost seemed to me like he was assuring himself that no one else was within earshot. “I lived with Clyde a couple of years ago for a little bit back while I was going through my divorce.” He smiled at Roger. “You came over one time while I was there.”
“Oh,” Roger said with a chuckle. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”
So that was why Steve had come over to Roger and me, I realized. He recognized we were fellow members of the LGBT community even though all three of us were all probably of the “B” classification. None of us looked or acted anything other than “normal,” it seemed.
About that time, one of the funeral home directors announced that there were refreshments in the social area and invited everyone to go there. So the three of us made our way in that direction.
“Surprises me there are so many people here,” I told Steve as we walked. “I mean, ten o'clock Saturday morning service and all that.”
“Clyde wasn't much of a night owl,” Steve told me. “I guess being the service manager at the car dealership kind of made him that way. Always having to be there early in the morning so people could drop off their cars for service. He was always an early bird. Not like most of us.”
We got to the social room about that time and went toward tables where some other men were already sitting. As I looked about the room, it seemed to me like people were congregating into three distinct groups.
Group one was Clyde's family and neighbors. He had three kids and a couple of sisters. He also had one of the nicest yards in his neighborhood. Group two were people from the car dealership where Clyde had worked before he retired. The third group was the gay and bisexual men who had known Clyde. The third group seemed to be the largest. We occupied three different round tables. All the other men I thought looked familiar were all seated at one of those tables.
“I want to thank everyone for coming,” one man at the front of the room said. He introduced himself as Clyde's son and invited everyone to partake of the buffet set up along one wall of the social room. “This was my dad's request,” he told the group. “He wanted everybody to just eat and mingle and talk and have a good time.”
So that was what everybody did. And while I was getting a plate of finger food from the buffet with several other men from the “group three” tables, the information was passed around that Clyde had reserved a suite of rooms at a nearby motel so we could all go there after the memorial service was over and “entertain ourselves” in Clyde's honor. That was very much in keeping with the type of man Clyde was. Even though Clyde was a great cock-sucker, he also got a lot of his jollies from just watching other guys enjoying themselves. When Clyde would have a couple of men over at his house, he often just turned into a spectator after he had brought one or more of his visitors to orgasm. He would sit or lie back and watch the other two guys as they went at it. Everybody figured Clyde would be there at the motel in spirit, watching over the proceedings.
So about an hour or so later I found myself in a suite of motel rooms with about nine or ten other men. Steve was there, of course, and seemed to be somewhat of a “master of ceremonies.” When I came into the rooms, it was Steve who greeted me and directed me to the bar set up in the kitchen area of the suite; which had two bedrooms with a pair of double beds in each. As I fixed myself a gin-and-tonic, I smiled and nodded at a couple of other guys I recognized. I stood there by the bar and sipped my drink, chatting with some of the other men for a while but it usually only an exchange of names and/or a “Hi. How are you doing,” type of greeting and maybe a statement on how great a guy Clyde was. I'm not usually very gregarious.
After about a half an hour of this small talk—during which several other men (one of them Roger) also came into the suite—Steve began ringing on a drink glass with a butter knife to get everyone's attention.
“I think everyone's that's coming to this little shindig is here, now,” Steve said, addressing everybody in the room. “So we'll just lock the door and I'll say what Clyde would usually say to someone when they came over to his house. 'Make yourself comfortable.'” With that, Steve began taking off his sports jacket and tie.
That was true, even though what Clyde had usually said was, “Go on into the bedroom and make yourself comfortable,” but it had the same effect in that everyone started getting undressed. There was quite a variety of bodies that soon revealed themselves. Most were men of the middle-aged variety, like me, and a couple even left on their t-shirts to help hide their bulging bellies, but more than a few were quite fit-looking. Roger, I noticed, had the same Adonis-like figure I had seen before at Clyde's but there were a couple of others that came close. Steve, for one, looked like he worked out regularly and one Hispanic-looking young man of medium height could definitely give Roger competition in the endowment department.
This young man—he looked to me to be in his mid 20s and who had introduced himself to me earlier as “Jorge”--was standing only a few feet away from me. About the time we had both shed the last of our clothes, we looked at each other and smiled.
It only took us one stride each to close the distance between us. I reached out for Jorge and he did the same, each of us touching the other on the upper arm with one hand. I was already fully erect and Jorge's cock was rising quickly, I noticed. He lifted his face up toward mine and we kissed. At the same time, I felt his hand grab my erect penis. I was reaching for his, too, but before I found it, Jorge sank to his knees and immediately placed his mouth over my stiff dick. I placed one hand on his black curls as he began to bob up and down on my cock.
As much as I was enjoying Jorge's machinations on my dick (and regretting I wasn't able to do the same with his right at the moment), I looked around to see how others were enjoying themselves. I saw Steve and another guy go into one of the bedrooms hand-in-hand, followed by another guy who looked familiar. I also watched as Roger fondled the package of another man over on the couch in the suite while the two of them kissed.
I finally had to reach down and pulled Jorge back up to his feet. “Hey,” I told him. “I want to do some of that, too.” We kissed again, then I sank down to my knees. Jorge's cock was fully hard, now, and I noticed how it curved off to his left. I started out licking under his ball sack, then worked my way up to the shaft of his cock to the head. I rolled my tongue around his knob while I held the shaft in my hand, then slurped the whole thing into my mouth.
It felt heavenly to have a good, hard dick in my mouth again. I kept loving on it as I felt Jorge's hand on my hair, just like I had done while he was sucking me. But soon he, just like I had done to him, reached down and pulled me back up to my feet.
“Why don't we go on back there,” he said, indicating the bedroom I had seen Steve and the others go into.
“Sure,” I said. Taking Jorge by the hand, I started off in that direction. As the two of us passed the couch where Roger and the guy he was with sat making out and fondling each other, I nodded to the bedroom door.
When we got into the bedroom, I noticed Steve and the two other guys were right in the middle of a three-way suck on one of the double beds. Jorge and I walked over to the other bed and laid down. Roger and his partner were right behind us and they laid down, too. It was kind of crowded for four people on a double bed, but with Jorge and I sucking in a 69 position and with Roger doing the same with his guy, we managed.
After a while, though, I took a break from sucking on Jorge's beautiful cock and looked over at Roger and his partner. He was looking at me, too. I reached out with one hand to stroke his chest and he broke contact with his partner and leaned toward me. Soon, the four of us on our bed went one better than the people on the other bed and were involved in a four-way suck. I was sucking on Roger's partner's cock (who's name was Bill), Bill was sucking Jorge, Jorge was sucking Roger and Roger was sucking me. It was fabulous.
Then before long, it started getting even more confused. I kept sucking on different dicks that were presented to me and my cock was getting sucked my different men, too.
But I knew I'd better slow down if I wanted to last. I'm usually just a “one-and-done” in the orgasm department. So I took a break, rolling over onto my back, then sat up and moved my body toward the head of the bed and sat there with my back to the headboard and watched the other men going at it.
Everybody seemed to be having a great time. Then Roger appeared beside me, seemingly doing the same thing I was—just watching and listening. There was plenty of moaning and groaning going on on the beds, and an occasionally shout of ecstasy as someone reached a climax.
“Old Clyde would have really enjoyed this,” Roger said. “He really got a kick out of seeing guys enjoying themselves.”
“Yeah,” I said. “He was something of voyeur. But a great guy.”
I went silent for a bit, then looked over at the beautiful guy next to me. “You know, Roger,” I said. “There's one thing I really regret not doing that time we met there at Clyde's place.”
“Yeah?” he said.
I steeled up my courage. “Yes,” I said. “I do remember being plugged into your ass for a little while that day. But what I really wanted was for you to fuck me with that gorgeous cock of yours.”
Roger just looked at me and smiled. “Well,” he said. “No time like the present.” He glanced over at the nightstand beside the bed. There was a bottle of strawberry-flavored lube there. “Looks like Clyde thought of everything.”
“Great,” I said. “How do you want to do it?”
Roger got up an positioned me with ass over the side of the bed with my knees downward toward the floor. He got behind me and started using the lube on my ass. I lay there propped up on my elbows. In the meantime, Jorge got up on the bed and crawled toward me on his knees until he was right in front of me. Smiling at his invitation, I took his dick into my mouth and started sucking just about the time I felt Roger rubbing the head of his cock on my eager asshole. But I took Jorge's member out of my mouth and held it in my hand as I felt Roger pushing his way in.
Oh, my God! It felt glorious to have that big cock pushing its way into me. There was a little bit of pain as it first went in, but it was that great-feeling type of pain that proceeds even greater pleasure. Soon Roger was pushing and pulling his cock in and out of my ass in one of the most fabulous fuckings I'd ever had. I then took Jorge's gorgeous cock back into my mouth, glorying in my luck to have two of the biggest, most beautiful dicks around spit-roasting me like they were doing. It was magnificent! Glorious! Heavenly! I was in ecstasy! Then, to top it off, we all came at the same time! Jorge's sweet-tasting cock began to squirt and gush into my mouth at exactly the same time I felt Roger push in hard and his dick begin to do the same inside my ass. With those two shooting their sperm into me like that, I couldn't help but have my own intense orgasm, too. Moaning in pleasure, I came all over the bed while I was swallowing the huge load Jorge was depositing into my mouth and throat.
I might have passed out for a bit after that, though I do vaguely remember Roger pulling out, then bending over to kiss me on my back. Then, I think somebody else took Roger's place for some “sloppy seconds.” Or maybe two or three more guys also fucked me. I was too groggy by this time to be sure.
After a while I just rolled over onto my back. Like I say, I'm usually a one-and-done. But still a couple of more men (Steve being one) did stop by the bed long enough for me to suck their cocks for a bit and they usually sucked on mine, too. Yet mostly I just lay there and sipped on another gin-and-tonic someone brought me.
But everybody seemed to sense the party was winding down after a while. Soon there was more conversation going on in the rooms than there was sex. Several people took their turns in one of the showers of the bathroom that connected the two rooms. Evidently Clyde had anticipated this, too, and there were extra towel stacked up in the two bathrooms.
Then Steve, still acting as “Master of Ceremonies” invited everyone to share their memories of Clyde. There were some damned hot, stories told there. When it was my turn, I related the tale of Roger, Clyde and me (see my story “Three-M Delight”) and said how I was sure glad to make Roger's acquaintance again today.
“Me, too,” Roger added for emphasis.
“Yeah,” Jorge chimed in.
About that time, it was my turn in one of the showers. I luxuriated in the feel of the shower and cleaning myself up after all the lovemaking and especially enjoyed it even more when Steve joined me there. We traded quick sucks on each other as the water cascaded over us, but neither of us did it for very long. Both of us sensed it was about time to go.
When I exited the bathroom, found my clothes and started getting dressed again, Roger (who was already dressed) came by and gave me one of his business cards. Soon, Jorge did the same, but his name and phone number was just written on a piece of paper.
After I finished dressing, I headed toward the door, thanking everyone still in the rooms for a wonderful time.
“Yeah,” Steve said as he opened the door to let me out. “Clyde would have loved this.”
“I bet he was watching,” I said.
“Yes,” Steve replied, shaking my hand and leaving still another business card in my palm. “He always loved a good party.”
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