--------------------------------------------------------
This work is copyrighted to the author © 2009. Please don't remove the author information or make any changes to this story. All rights reserved. Thank you for your consideration.
--------------------------------------------------------
**********************************
Erectile dysfunction can be a real problem at an orgy. (MMF, bi, oral, orgy)
**********************************
My wife and I had a big fight last month. We'd fought about the same things before, but this time it changed my life forever. I was on her again about spending too much money. She was mad at me for working long hours and not being interested in sex when I got home. We were both right. She was spending more than I made and running up the charge card. I was wrung out and cranky and managed to work up some enthusiasm for sex about only once a month or so. We'd been married a little over a year, and neither one of us was enjoying it much.
Anyway, we fought more than usual that night, and I just needed some air. Driving around, I spotted a bar on the edge of town and went in for a drink or two. That's all I wanted: a couple of drinks. I was not looking for sex. I was almost never looking for sex.
Even before I walked into the bar - when I saw all the motorcycles in the parking lot -- I could sense that it was not the kind of place where a well-dressed young guy (I was 23) was going to fit in. Every other customer in the place - and there seemed to be 10 or 12 in the small tavern -- was dressed like he belonged to some sort of motorcycle gang.
They all looked to be in their 30's and 40's. Actually, there were one or two women there, too, but they were clearly with the guys, and weren't any younger, or cleaner. These were big, chunky guys, too. Some of them looked pretty fat, and others were hard muscled and bulked up like weightlifters. I'm only five foot seven and weigh 125 dripping wet, little of it muscle. There wasn't a man in the place under five ten, and they were all 200 pounds at least.
At the same time, while I was obviously out of place, I had no reason to feel uncomfortable. I mean, I didn't get any menacing glares or anything. In fact, everybody pretty much ignored me for quite a while. Once in a while I thought I sensed that people were talking about me, but that was probably just my imagination. I did seem to be getting looked at a lot, but again there were no menacing stares or anything. It was almost like they'd never seen anyone clean and well-dressed before! Or, I smiled to my own joke, thin.
The bartender was an older black man of about 60. He kept pouring me drinks and didn't say much. I was on my third drink and beginning to really relax when Ray - the name was embroidered on his jacket - sat next to me and asked how I was doing. He seemed friendly at first, so I chatted with him for a few minutes. By then I was starting to get a strange vibration off of him, like he was talking with me as sort of a joke or something.
Maybe his friends had dared him to come? Too many other people were watching us quietly for the scene to be 100% normal. I began to suspect that he was jerking my chain, and started to watch my words a little bit. I wasn't sure if he was setting me up for a joke, or playing with my mind, but I felt awkward.
Unfortunately, the way I handled my discomfort was to drink more than I should have. Within another 20 minutes or so, during which a friend of Ray's sat down with us, I was working on drink #6 and getting a bit buzzed.
Ray and Pete announced that one of the women was going to "pull a train" in the back room, and would I like to watch? I really, really, didn't want to say the wrong thing, but watching some skanky broad get gang-banged on a pool table was both revolting and appealing at the same time.
What was the right answer? Was I supposed to say thanks but no thanks, and get out of their club now? Or was I supposed to be "one of the guys?" The whole scene still seemed not real, and the way Ray and Pete exchanged glances with each other while chatting with me had me feeling like some sort of insect under a magnifying glass. These two guys were studying me much harder than made sense.
Pete put his left arm around my shoulders, leaned in close, and said "don't worry, Cherry-boy; she doesn't bite." He laughed a little and said that I could watch Delores get fucked by the whole group, or leave in the middle. "Hang loose, man...." I wasn't wild about being taunted with the nickname he'd hung on me, but I wasn't sure what to do about it.
"Yeah, man," said Ray. "Come on back and watch some hard fuckin'!" Ray put his right hand on my left thigh and gave me a friendly squeeze.
What was the matter with me? These guys couldn't have been friendlier, and I was getting all tense and tight-assed. I reached for another drink as I got up from the bar and went into the back room with Ray and Pete.
Everyone else was already there. The room had couches along two walls, a pool table in the middle, and even dimmer lighting than the main bar. As my eyes adjusted I saw both women had taken their jackets and t-shirts off and were bare-chested next to the table, kissing each other feverishly. I had no idea which one was Delores. All of the guys in the room except Ray and Pete and I had fired up a joint. Ray lit one up for himself and somebody I didn't know handed joints to Pete and me.
The marihuana cigarettes glowed in every corner of the room, and I stood where I'd come in, with Pete's arm still around my shoulders, and began to mellow out. By the time I finished my second joint I was slipping in and out of reality in cycles.
The first real sex I noticed was when I opened my eyes after nodding off for a few seconds and saw the redheaded woman naked on the floor on her hands and knees, getting fucked at both ends by guys who hadn't taken their clothes off; they'd just dropped their trousers. So the redhead was Delores. I wondered briefly what had happened to the blond. Several other guys were naked and had enormous erections, so I figured they were the next team.
I was wrong. Ray and Pete loudly announced that "Cherryboy's next!"
The redhead hadn't seemed to even know I existed until then. She still had one guy's 8-inch rod between her lips as he knelt in front of her, and she was slurping it like mad. His dick looked big and thick to my inexperienced eyes. I hadn't ever seen many boners other than my own. The guy doing her pussy from behind had shot his own load a few seconds ago and withdrew his even larger penis as Pete spoke. I stared in awe at the ten inches of slimy cock that he withdrew from Delores's cunt. It dangled between his legs as he sat back on his haunches and savored his orgasm.
I had only seen a few other guys naked growing up - locker rooms and such - but had never seen any other man's dick when it was erect. The dicks I'd seen in gym locker rooms, even though they'd all been pointing at the ground, had clued me in to the fact that most guys had bigger dorks than I did, but this fellow's pole- like penis was a revelation! My own cock was about 5 inches long, max, when I had a woodie.
I'd long suspected that "real men" hoisted 6 or 7 inchers. But ten? Jesus, what a cock that guy was fondling. It not only glistened in the dim light with the redhead's slimy cunt-juice all over it, but it was still leaking cum as he stroked it. Lots of cum. I was drifting in and out again, so I was not aware that, by the time I turned my attention back to the red headed woman I was scheduled to hump any moment, everyone else had noticed me staring intently at the naked penises around the room.
I also had not noticed, in my haze, that Ray and Pete had gotten me a long way towards getting my clothes off. My shirt was completely unbuttoned and my belt was loose. They helped me take off my shirt, and then slip out of my trousers, as they moved me towards Dolores, the sperm-loaded redhead still on the floor in front of me. Somebody handed me another drink, which I gulped down without a thought. I was feeling no pain as I was pushed down on the floor next to Delores and all the guys started urging her to "pop Cherry-boy's cherry".
She kissed me clumsily and laid me back flat on the floor. She tugged my pants off of my ankles and even removed my underpants so that I was, like her, completely naked. She then crawled up over me and kissed me some more, while rubbing the front of her body all over the front of mine.
My brain was on fire - I'd never been in so erotic a situation before - and I kissed her back passionately. I grabbed at her breasts and thrust my loins up at hers. This was going to be a blast, I thought, just before my mind wandered off somewhere else again for a few seconds. Good grass.
When I focused on Delores again, she had turned around so that we were in a 69 position. I felt one of her hands on my dick, and her lips nuzzling my pubic region, but I did not seem to have much sense of feeling in my dick, and I feared I wasn't getting much of an erection. Somewhere off to the side I realized I was being laughed at by the unimpressed onlookers: