We had all gone away for a month, us six guys: Ray, Mike, John, Matthew, Paul and myself. It was supposed to be a bonding thing. We were in the heart of the countryside, staying in Paul’s family’s holiday home. It was miles from anywhere and it was going to be our last group outing together before Ray got married.
To begin with it was fun. Just the six of us together, nobody’s girlfriend allowed (or in John’s case, boyfriend). We drank beer and ate pizza and stayed up late playing poker and doing generally male things. The cooking was split between John and myself and we had a great time.
But it was getting boring. There was no TV and we had run out of ways to amuse ourselves.
Then one night, a week after we’d arrived, we were sitting around having our regular poker session and Matthew was complaining that there was no fun in it. Ray usually won anyway and none of us could afford to wager any serious money.
“There is one solution,” said John casually.
“What’s that?” said Matthew.
“Strip poker,” said John, raising an eyebrow.
This idea was greeted around the table with a weird silence. We were all looking at each other, trying to see who’d be the first one to turn it down. Nobody wanted to bottle out. We were all grinning.
Eventually Mike said, “Well, I’m game.”
“So am I,” said Matthew.
“So am I,” I said.
Only Ray and Paul were holding out, grinning at each other. Of all of us, Paul was the least likely to go for it, while Ray would do anything to show off. Paul held Ray’s gaze and said “Sure.”
“Fair enough,” said Ray, and he collected up our cards and started to shuffle them.
“How about a side condition?” said Matthew with an evil grin. “Whoever loses has to do whatever the winner wants for the rest of the evening.”
I glanced at John. He was looking at me sidelong, a spark of mischief in his face. I grinned, a little nervously. This was shaping up to be potentially very embarrassing for whichever poor bastard lost the game. These guys were my best friends, which isn’t to say that I trusted any of them for a moment.
“Sounds good,” said John. The rest of us nodded assent, trying to look as confident as we didn’t feel.
The game started, and I was having a run of luck. I’m not the best poker player in the world, but I was doing well and my bluffing was working. One by one, items of clothing came off; shoes, then socks, then shirts and then pants, and one by one whoever was down to his pants invariably folded before having to go all the way. John was loudly voicing his disappointment that none of us had had the nerve to push our luck.
He changed his tune half an hour later when he was down to his jockey shorts and facing Ray, who was in t-shirt and boxers, and me who still had my cargo pants on over my own boxers. He folded. We slagged him for that. John was camp and extravagant, but he wasn’t that much of an exhibitionist.
So it was between Ray and myself, and while he was the better player, I had the better hand. Two pairs. There was no way Ray had anything to beat that.
“I’ll see your boxers,” I said, “and I’ll raise you my boxers and my pants.”
There was a low whistle. The tension was electric. Six slightly drunk young men in various stages of undress were sitting quietly in a circle, and there was something undeniably erotic about all the testosterone in the room. I had the beginning of a slight hard-on. I knew I wasn’t really risking it, but I was hoping that if we played another hand I might lose, and have to pay the forfeit. In the meantime I was planning what to do with Ray when he lost those boxers.
“I’ll call you,” he said carefully.
I knew he was bluffing. Smiling, I laid down my two pairs. One of the guys gasped. I knew I’d beaten him.
He looked at them impassively for a moment. Then he looked up at me and said softly, “Not bad.”
Then he laid down his own cards. A full house.
The guys burst out laughing and cheering. I went totally crimson. I couldn’t believe he’d beaten me and that I was now going to have to strip naked in front of them.
Ray grinned. “Get out there in front of the fire,” he said, and took a pull at his beer.
I got up from the table and walked the walk of shame, over to where the fire was burning. The guys were chanting “Strip! Strip!”
I decided to do it quickly. I unbuttoned my cargo pants and let them drop down my legs, then I stepped out of them and pulled my shorts down, stepping out of them too. I picked up my clothes and tossed them aside. I was finally naked. There were cheers.
“What about the rest of the conditions?” said Matthew, smoking a cigarette.
“Oh yeah,” said Ray. “What do we make him do. Hmm.”
I stood there, naked, resting my weight on one hip, my arms by my sides. My cock was definitely not dormant. It was hanging there, swaying a little, sticking out slightly in front of me. Nobody’d commented on it but I knew they had all noticed.
Ray glanced at John, who was sitting at the table staring at me, his lips slightly parted, looking flushed.
“John,” he said, “what do you think?”
“He looks lovely,” said John with a grin. Ray looked at me.
“Okay,” he said to me. “Get down on your knees and suck John’s cock.”
“Oh, come on,” I said, scared and excited. “We never said anything about that.”
“You have to do whatever I want, right?” said Ray. “That’s what I want.”
John didn’t need any encouragement. He’d always been a little flirty with me, and I’d appreciated it at the time, although I didn’t really think I was bisexual. But it had been a while since I’d had a girlfriend, and it’s always nice when anyone makes you feel you’re desirable. I didn’t fancy John, though, because although he was slim and handsome, he was a guy – and I didn’t fancy guys.
But now he was getting up from the table in only his shorts, and walking towards me, and I was naked and getting down on my knees with the purpose of giving him a blowjob. And the other guys were watching. I was starting to get hard. This was intimate, and weird, and definitely off the map. I was partly determined to go through with it because I had said that I would, and partly genuinely curious to see what it would be like. And John was so feminine, too, that I felt it would be like sucking a woman’s cock, if only women had cocks.
He looked down at me, his soft brown eyes smiling.
“You want me to take off my shorts?” he murmured.
“No,” I said. I wanted to keep it pure, to make me the only one who was naked. He took his already stiff cock out of his shorts and the other guys were totally silent, watching us. I had never seen another man’s penis up so close before, and I marveled at how lovely it was, with the thick head and the blue vein running along it.
I took it in my hands and began to lick and suck on it, tasting John, and he gave a little shudder and a sigh. If this was to be my forfeit, I could do it, this I could handle. I closed my eyes and I felt them looking at us as I moved my tongue along the whole length of John’s penis, stroking him, taking him between my lips and hauling on him. I reached up behind him and slid my hands inside his shorts, cupping his tight buttocks in my hands, and he grunted a little. His hands were all over my head, stroking my cropped hair and shoulders, and then he was taking my head and starting to fuck my mouth. It was a head-fuck in every sense, raw and crude and also disorienting and dizzying. Was I gay, then? Because I was enjoying the feeling of John’s cock in my mouth? I tried not to think about it and tightened my lips around his shaft as it plunged in and out of my mouth.
I heard footsteps and then I suddenly felt a pair of hands on my naked ass. I opened my eyes and Matthew was behind me, fondling my hips and ass and stroking my own cock, and kissing me on the back of the neck. “MMMM!” I went in muffled protest, but John said softly, “Shut up, bitch!” and there was a chuckle from the table. I was getting scared, now; it looked like I wasn’t just going to have take John in my mouth. Perhaps I was about to be ass-fucked into the bargain.
I took my mouth off John’s cock and gasped, “What are you doing!”
“He can do anything I want, Alex,” Ray murmured from the table.
John took his cock and pushed it back in my mouth and I tried not to think too much. I went back to sucking him off.