I recently wrote a story called "The Surprise" - a non-consensual story with a twist. I deliberately picked a vague title, and so I will try and write a different tale under each of Literotica's twenty-five writing categories with the same inspiration over the next year. This is Number Seven.
******
My wife wasn't wrong to leave me; I was bisexual, and she wanted monogamy. While I adored her figure, with her perky breasts and amazing butt, I also needed to play with my gender. During a sales visit to London, I attended a gay bar with a public playroom, and sucked on my first cock. That experience opened my eyes, and for three years, I maintained my marriage as I sought male sex partners for anal and oral sex. My world tumbled down when she discovered my FabGuys and Grindr accounts, and the truth came out.
We agreed to split amicably, which was far more than I deserved, and she took ownership of our six-bedroom abode. I had an excellent job in our family firm and settled into a four-bedroom detached house in a small village in east Cheshire. Close to the motorway, railway station and with splendid views of the countryside, my cul-de-sac property was an ideal home for me to rebuild my life.
As a thirty-five-year-old, I wanted sexually available men and women of a similar age, and there were little of those in the surrounding area. However, I still travelled to Manchester, Stockport or Chester for dates, and the scenery around my village was fantastic. I lived close to work, and could drive to our Mancunian factory three days a week, and work from my home office on the other two.
Six months after moving into my new property, I had the bushes and shrubs removed from my front garden and replaced them with small low-maintenance plants; I was never much of a gardener and the five trees had roots that were encroaching on the sewers. My neighbour complained.
A month later, I changed the three-foot high fence in the back garden with bigger replacements, and planted conifers in front of them. I wanted my privacy, and my neighbour whinged.
During Pride Month, I flew the horizontal striped flag from my upstairs window. My neighbour protested and as chair of our local parish council, he officially wrote to me to advise that "perversions should not be advertised where children could see them."
I ignored his pathetic baiting, but more and more I felt I didn't fit in to the village life. There were cliques, clubs and societies that were not welcoming to new members. I needed a more cosmopolitan environment. A few Tinder and Grindr dates, with the inevitable culmination of the rendezvous in the bedroom for a one-night stand, couldn't sate my wanderlust. I wanted more and looked at a few houses available on the property market nearer to the city centre.
Towards the end of the summer, a guy who I'd met a few times from FabGuys contacted me. Twenty miles away, in a small town in Cheshire, was the country's biggest all-male sauna, and they were hosting an infamous sex party. He had two tickets and his friend had dropped out. Did I want the spare ticket?
The Horse Fair is a simple but sordid concept. It is an orgy and attendees purchase entry for one of the three roles. Firstly, the "stable lads" guarantee the safety of the participants by ensuring everyone uses condoms and lube. They are also responsible for directing the play and arrive at the party first. The "mares" are guys who like to bottom. The stable lads hood them, strip them naked and restrain them. Lastly, the "stallions" are men who top, and they enter the party to sodomise and use the mares. Anonymously. The event is pure sleaze, and it sounded wonderful.
Simon's spare was for a mare.
Feeling lonely and a little isolated with my life, I leapt at the chance, and met Simon in a layby. I traded one ticket for the forthcoming event for £20 - the face value - and a blowjob. His smooth cock slipped effortlessly between my lips as my tongue worked his glans. The 40-something avid cyclist owned a juice bar and his cum was the sweetest, tangiest delicacy in the county; I always adored going down on the health freak.
The following months were busy at the family firm, and the Horse Fair slipped from my thoughts. Previous trips and parties where I could explore or enjoy my sexuality had preyed on my mind for weeks leading to the event, but with new orders flying into our company, I immersed myself in my work.
I had a busy Friday in mid October, but arrived home at 4pm. Excited, I douched and plugged my arse, ate at the local pub and then drove across the county to meet Simon in the car park of the all-male sauna. I'd been to the former working men's club before and the vast two-storey building catered for hundreds of men at the same time.
He greeted me in his hoodie and sweatpants. "You're early!" I said. "Stallions aren't allowed in until seven thirty!"
"I've got a mare ticket! Like you!"
"I thought of you as more of a stallion than a bottom!"
He laughed. "You've always had me with your lips around my cock, begging me to come in your mouth!" The versatile juice bar owner followed me into the venue, and we swapped our tickets for entry to the vast sauna. We walked to the expansive changing rooms, chatting. Butterflies danced in my stomach; it had been a year since I had attended an orgy, and nothing of this scale.
The rules stated we had to be nude from the waist down and, apart from a pair of plimsolls, I stripped naked. I was not the only guy to have a plug in, and I removed my sex toy, placing it in a bag with my clothes.
Over fifty guys of all shapes and sizes crammed into the changing room, stuffing their garments and possessions into the lockers. A few wore harnesses or tight T-shirts, but most were naked. The atmosphere was jovial and light-hearted; I had my butt squeezed several times by passing attendees as I chatted to my fellow mares.
A railway worker, a schoolteacher, a diversity officer and CEO conversed about geopolitics, football and the state of the roads. The only real thing we had in common was that we were about to be fucked by a stampede of stallions, eager to sate their horniness with our bodies.
A dozen men in sports wear walked to the front of the rowdy, boisterous changing room. A stout, bald-headed man shouted for silence, and then introduced himself before stating the rules once more.
My heart pounded as the reality sunk in. Mares were to be hooded and could not remove their hood for the duration of the event. They were to service all cocks, until nine, when it became a free-for-all orgy until the small hours.
As he spoke, they passed white hoods around the group of men, and at the end of his speech, we had to slip the thin sack over our eyes. A few minutes later, a pair of hands tied it behind my head, fastened my wrists together with zip ties, and then led me into the sauna.
We walked past a room where pornography was playing. I heard the groans and squeals, as well as seeing the brightly coloured light masked through the thin cotton. The softly spoken stable lad guided me up a flight of stairs and told me to "wait here." I felt a table at thigh height and I instinctively rested my palms on it, stretching my calf.
I heard movement. I could taste anxious excitement in my mouth, as there were steps around me. Other mares, certainly.
My watch was in my locker, but I knew we must be approaching seven thirty. I could see nothing but darkness and I closed my eyes, straining my ears to hear anything. Breathing like me. A shuffling of feet. In the far distance, I heard a smack of skin and boots on the floor.
The time had come.
Thumping beats of dance music reverberated around the club. I flinched when I felt the first touch on my body. Hands squeezed my buttocks and pushed on my back, presenting my hole to the dominant stallion.
Suddenly, cool wetness dabbed on my douched opening was followed by a cock pressed against me, filling me up. Smooth and slow, nuzzling his dick against my prostate as his hands rested on my back.
The patient movement delightfully opened me up, finishing the job of my butt plug. I loved every moment. He had rough skin, but was he a fit tradesperson or an experienced, overweight bear? Ginger, blonde, black or bald? Hirsute or glabrous? Tory, Labour or Lib Dem? I could only imagine what person was behind the wondrous dick sensually sodomising me.
It felt too good. He was big, and he thrust powerfully, building a smooth rhythm as he fucked me, harder and harder. The stallion smashed his hand against my exposed skin as he pounded my hole, chasing his pleasure.
I was nothing but a vessel to him; a fleshlight or nameless orifice. A disposable butt for the tops to fuck and use, and then discard. And he did; his cock pulsed in the rubber sheath buried inside my lubricated hole.
The moment he withdrew, another took his place. He couldn't see my face, and I couldn't see him at all. I felt surrounded by men with hands, bodies and dicks pressing and bumping into me. "Hold him down!" The stallion demanded, encouraging his friend to push my shoulders onto the padded table top.
The deprivation of my sight heightened my other senses. Everything excited me, from the touch on my skin and my hole to the smell of lubricant filling the room. The sounds of rough, guttural buggery. The taste of a bare prick stuffed into my mouth whilst his friend roughly sodomised me.
Ferocious, merciless sex; he pounded his cock into me as he slapped my body. My lungs burnt as his mate packed his long dick into my throat, face-fucking me as his fellow stallion hammered my butt. I gasped for air, but could not resist. The barbarous group of men groped me, plundering me for their pleasure as they rotated.
As one man emptied his balls inside a condom, the guy in my throat replaced him, stuffing my arse with their prick. Then, the stallion twisting my nipples or smacking my skin filled my mouth.
No humanity, no emotion. Just half-a-dozen cocks of all sizes, pushing their way into my abused hole and pleasuring themselves with my body. Blindfolded, time had no meaning. My mind simply concerned itself with the continuous orgy surrounding me. I was on my seventh cock of the night, more than doubling my personal record in an evening, and we had barely started.
As the room quietened, a stable lad pulled at my wrists and led me along the corridor and into another area. The pounding beat of the music was louder, and I heard a commotion as I stepped inside. It was a busier part of the event, and within moments, I was on my back in a sling, swaying in midair. A pair of firm hands fastened my ankles to the chains and smothered my arsehole in cold lubricant. His thick, meaty prick forced its way inside me.
Utter bliss. His cock rubbed against my prostate as he fucked me. His hands pulled on my legs, moving me in the swing as he rampantly screwed me. I was just a piece of meat. Nobody said a word or acknowledged me, they used me and went.
