“I just think it’s terrible,” Martha said.
“Well, it’s just young people these days,” Yvonne said.
This conversation was taking place near me, but I had not been paying much attention. I didn’t really want to be here, but Yvonne was my neighbor and I didn’t have an excuse for not showing up for a neighborhood cocktail party. I usually begged off because Yvonne and almost all of her married friends spent too much of their spare time trying to match-make me with their unmarried friends. I’ve been a widower for two years. I’m 62 and in great shape with no beer gut, most of my hair and a more than ample bank account. My reward for working out and being successful is that it is open season on my love life. Don’t get me wrong, I like women and would like a steady relationship – maybe even to get married again, but it will be my decision, not some busybody friend.
“Billy, what do you think?” asked Martha.
“I’m sorry,” I said, “I didn’t hear what this is about.”
“It’s about the deplorable morals of young people these days.” Martha said. “The girls have these ‘bachelorette ‘ parties where they hire a young man to take his clothes off. They call them CFNM parties – clothed female, naked male.”
“Oh, come on, Martha,” Yvonne said. “They’re just kids having some fun.”
“Some fun?” Martha said. “I hear that they humiliate the young man. They pull him around by his…his…”
“Penis, Martha.” Yvonne said. “Billy knows what a penis is.”
“Well,” Martha said, “they pull him around and spank him and make him serve them drinks and kneel down and lick their toes. It’s horrible. Then, at the end of the party the bride…well the bride does this thing…”
“The bride gives the young man a blowjob.” Yvonne said. “Billy knows what a blowjob is. Eileen always claimed she was the best.” Turning to me she said, “So what do you think, Billy?”
The reference to Eileen and blowjobs took me off-stride for a minute. Eileen was my now deceased wife and she was, as far as my experience went, the best at blowjobs of anyone in the world. I did not, however, know that she discussed her talent with her friends.
“Well, I guess if the girls are having fun, it seems harmless enough,” I said.
“What about the young man?” Martha asked.
I was on my fourth or fifth drink and was far enough along to figure if I just slightly offended them, they would leave me alone. I liked Yvonne and I could tolerate Martha, but I was tired of their interfering with my life.
“It sounds like fun. I presume they pay him. If I were 30 years younger, I might choose that as a career over the law. Take your clothes off, get poked around a little my some cute girls, get a blowjob and, in the end, a check – probably with a tip. I can’t find a flaw in that plan,” I said.
I thought Martha was going to drop her drink. She was staring at me in total shock. My plan had worked – for her at least. Yvonne, on the other hand, was laughing.
“You’re right, Billy,” she said. “I didn’t see it from the man’s point-of-view, but it makes sense that a guy would have a lot of fun.”
Just then, Yvonne’s husband, Matt, came up to our group, took me by the arm and steered me toward the bar. Over his shoulder, he said to his wife, “I’m going to borrow Billy for a while and go smoke a cigar. He’s seen all the fresh meat you invited tonight.”
“Thanks for the rescue,” I said.
“I wish you’d find somebody so Yvonne and her friends will stop all this shit,” he said. “By the way, I heard the comment about Eileen and blowjobs. I hope that didn’t bother you too much. Actually, Eileen taught Yvonne how to do it and I was grateful to Eileen until the day she died.” With that, we freshened out drinks and spent the rest of the evening on the patio smoking.
Two days later my phone rang and it was Yvonne. As soon as she identified herself I was thinking of reasons I could not attend another party. She had something else in mind, however.
“Billy,” she said. “Do you remember that conversation we had the other night about the bachelorette parties?”
“The CFNM parties?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said. “You indicated that there was a time you might have done that.”
“It would have beat the hell out of waiting tables to pay my way through law school,” I said.
“Well, would you be interested now?” she asked.
I laughed out loud. “Yvonne,” I said, “I’m 62. I don’t think a bunch of young women would be too interested in me.”
“No,” she said, “but a group of more mature women might.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“I think it would be just the thing to spice up my Wednesday bridge game.”
“You’re kidding,” I said.
“No, I’m not,” she answered. “We’re bored. Our husbands, as you well know, are wealthy. Our children are grown and have moved away. We get together to eat lunch and play bridge, but mostly we drink chardonnay until we’re plastered. It’s pretty sad.”
“Look, I’m sorry about that, but I don’t think it would be a good idea.” I said. “Besides, your friends might get offended and Matt and the other husbands would not like it either.”
“Matt and the other husbands are not to know,” she answered. “There are only four of us and we can keep it quiet. It sure would be fun. You’re still a really cute guy and it would be just the kind of fun you described the other night.”
“Complete with a blowjob?” I asked.
“I can’t promise what anyone else might do, but I’m certainly interested.”
As strange as it may seem, this was beginning to make sense. “Isn’t Martha part of your bridge group?” I asked.
“Don’t worry about Martha,” she said. “Thirty minutes into the wine and she’s a wild woman.”
For some reason I agreed – maybe to reclaim my youth or to try a new adventure now that my wife was gone. I don’t know exactly what, but I do know that my dick was as hard as it had been in years.
Wednesday, around 11:30 I showed up at Yvonne’s kitchen door in shorts and a tee shirt. She opened the door and invited me in. “First thing,” she said, “get those clothes off. The girls will be here any minute and you’re going to answer the door. Did you wear the underwear I told you to?”
“I did,” I answered. I took off my shirt, shorts, and flip-flops and revealed a black thong.
Yvonne looked me over and said, “Nice, very nice—a cute ass and a good package. I think this is going to work out well.” The doorbell rang and Yvonne led the way into the living room.
“It’s Sherry,” Yvonne said. “She’s knows what we’re doing, so just open the door, offer to take her purse, and offer to get her a glass of wine. You are to address her as Miss Sherry and me as Miss Yvonne. You will address the others as Miss, also.”
“Yes,” I said.
Yvonne slapped my ass as hard as she could. It actually hurt and I didn’t understand until she said, “Yes, ‘MAM, you piece of male shit.’
“Yes, mam,” I said and opened the door.
Sherry was about my age and just a little on the heavy side. She looked at me and said, “Well, well, what have we got here—a boy toy? Nice dick, Billy, and hard, too. I bet you don’t need Viagra if the right lady is around.”
“May I take your purse and offer you a glass of wine, Miss Sherry?” I asked.
“Sure, baby, but I’, m going to stay right here by the door so I can watch your cute ass when you walk across the room.”
As soon as I returned with Sherry’s wine, Gladys was at the door. As I took her purse she said, “Turn around and let me see your ass.”
“Yes, mam,” I said and turned with her purse in my hand.
She slapped my ass and said, “get me a glass of wine, bitch. That’s what you’re going to be this afternoon – my male bitch.”
I was a successful, and somewhat famous, attorney. I was educated and rich and intimidated my opponents in court. I had never been treated this way. It was humiliating and degrading and I loved it. My dick was as hard as it had been when I was 18. I wanted more—a lot more. And I got it. The fun was just beginning.
Finally, Martha arrived. Yvonne went with me to the door since Martha did not know I would be there and that I would be answering the door in a thong. When I opened the door, Martha said, “Oh, my god! What is going on?”
Yvonne reached through the door and pulled her inside. “Relax, Martha. I thought we’d spice up our little get-togethers.”
“But Billy is…he’s naked,” Martha said.
“He’s not naked yet. He has on a thong, but don’t worry Martha. He will be naked shortly.” She handed me Martha’s purse and told me to get her a glass of wine.
After everyone had a full glass of wine, Yvonne instructed me that it was time to serve lunch. It was to be a tomato stuffed with chicken salad on a bed of greens. Yvonne’s maid had prepared the meal in the morning and then had been given the rest of the day off. A situation I’m sure she found strange since she always served on bridge day. Just as I was to get the prepared salad plates, Yvonne stopped me.
“Hey, slut,” she called, “come here.”
I walked over and she turned to the others and said, “Don’t you think it’s time to see what’s under that pouch?” The others whistled and cheered. “Take it off and let’s see that dick.”
I did as I was told and my dick, hard as it could get, sprang out.
The women cheered and clapped. “Nice dick,” Gladys said. “Good circumcise job.”
“I wish Bert had a dick that thick,” Sherry said. “His is longer, but it’s a pencil dick. I’d rather have a thick one than a long one.”
“OK, bring us our lunches, slut,” Yvonne said, “and I don’t want to see any empty wine glasses.”
I went into the kitchen and began to bring out the lunch plates. I would have to run back and get wine to keep the glasses full. They were really drinking – especially Martha who was on her third glass and she had been there only fifteen minutes.
When I had served the last lunch I noticed that Sherry’s glass was empty. I ran to the kitchen but had to open a new bottle. When I returned to the dining room, Yvonne was mad.
“I told you no empty wine glasses, didn’t I?” she said.
“Yes, mam.” I answered.
“And you disobeyed me, didn’t you?” she said.
“No, mam,” I said. “I had to open a new bottle.”
“So you didn’t disobey me,” she said, “you fucked up. Fucking up is as bad as disobeying. Bend over and grab your ankles.”
I did, as she said not sure of what was going to happen. I found out soon enough when she hit me hard on the ass with a ping-pong paddle. The stinging sensation lasted for the next ten minutes.
During lunch they talked about their sex lives—how often they had sex, what their husbands did right and wrong and who in the neighborhood was having an affair. As I was cleaning off the table after lunch, Yvonne said, “There’s some lunch for you in the kitchen.”
I said, “Thank you, mam,” thinking I was to eat it in the kitchen. I was wrong.
“It’s some salad in a soup bowl. Fill another soup bowl with wine and bring them both in here,” she said.
When I came back with the two bowls, she said, “Put them on the floor.”
I did and she said, “Now get down on all fours and eat and drink like the dog you are.”
It was completely humiliating. I had to eat and drink without hands exactly like a dog. The women watched and laughed and taunted me. I also had to finish all of it and a soup bowl holds a lot of wine. I was beginning to feel the effects.
When I had finished eating, Yvonne said, “After all that wine, do you need to pee?”
“Yes, mam,” I said, grateful she had asked. I was about to beg permission to go to the bathroom.
Yvonne turned to the others and said, “Let’s walk the dog.” She went over to a drawer and produced a dog collar and leash. She put the collar around me and hooked on the leash. “Let’s go,” she said.
I was led through the kitchen and into the back yard walking on my hands and knees. The girls were commenting on my ass and laughing at my attempts to step over doorframes and go down steps on all fours.
Yvonne stopped in the yard and said, “When I walk my dog, he wags his tail. Wag yours.”
I tried by best to wag my ass back and forth and this brought howls of laughter.
Yvonne led me to a tree and said, “Go ahead, pee.”
I looked at the tree, but I was having trouble figuring out how to do it. Finally, I had to brace my raised leg against the tree to keep from falling and I began to pee. The women laughed and jeered.
“Look at that,” one of them said. “Men are just like dogs—they even piss like dogs. They eat off the floor and they piss on trees.” Everyone laughed except me. I had never been so humiliated. I just raised my leg to piss on a tree with four clothed women watching and laughing. I should have felt terrible, but I didn’t. I felt exhilarated and my dick remained hard.
Back inside, Yvonne instructed me to put a plastic tablecloth on the dining room table. Then she told me to lie down on it, face up. I really couldn’t figure this one out until she reappeared with a bottle of chocolate syrup and a can of whipped topping.
“Desert time, girls,” she called. She then proceeded to cover me with chocolate syrup and whipped cream from my head, including hair all the way to my toes. I was covered in sticky syrup and cold whipped cream.
The women looked on and one said, “I want to lick it all, but I don’t want to get my clothes messy.”
“Let’s take our tops off,” Martha said. “That way we won’t mess up our clothes.” Yvonne had been right. Martha was well on her way to being drunk and she had become a ringleader in raunchy behavior.
Each of the women removed their blouses and bras and all four gathered around the table topless. Tongues and tits covered my body for the next twenty minutes and I thought I was going to cum more than once. When they finished, Yvonne brought in some hot towels and had me clean each one of them.
“Clean us, slut, but don’t you dare cop a feel of our tits or I’ll beat your ass with a belt,” she said.
Of course, the first thing I did was cop a feel of her tits so she would spank me.
“Bad, bad, boy,” she said. “Bend over.”
I bent over the table and she brought the belt over my ass with a good strong stroke. She then handed the belt to each of the other women who gave me a lash. I knew I would have whelps on my ass and the thought of it made me even more excited.
I was still covered in the residue of chocolate and whipped cream so Yvonne said, “Back on all fours and back in the yard.”
When we were outside, Yvonne took the garden hose and began to wash me like a dog. The water was cold and the women rubbed it on me until the chocolate was gone. I was there on my all fours, dripping wet when Martha said, “Give me the hose.’ Yvonne handed it to her and she spread my ass cheeks with one hand and pointed the nozzle a hard steady stream at my asshole. I jumped when the water hit and all the girls laughed. My dick temporarily softened from the shock and Sherry said again, “Just like a dog. Spray them with water, and they lose their hard ons.”
Inside again, I was still on all fours while the women talked about me like I wasn’t there. Yvonne said, “You know what we haven’t done? We haven’t named his dick. We need a pet name for his dick.”
“I call Bert’s Penny. I started with pencil dick and it just evolved into Penny.” Sherry said.
“Matt’s is ‘Big Boy’,” Yvonne said. “It’s not as big as he thinks it is, but he’s so damn proud of it, I go along with it.”
“We call Reggie’s ‘Ding-Dong’ – not very creative but when he says ‘Ding-Dong’ that means he wants to fuck,” Gladys said.
“Merton’s dick doesn’t have a name,” Martha said. “Merton barely has enough personality to have a name, much less his dick.” Actually, I thought, Martha has a point here. Her husband was personality challenged.
“Let’s call Billy’s ‘Willie’,” Sherry said. “Billy’s Willie.” The others agreed and my dick became Willie.
Yvonne said, “OK, what are we going to do with him? We’re pretty drunk so we need to use our boy toy and his Willie before we get to far to enjoy it.”
“I want to suck his dick,” Martha said.
“This is my house and I get to suck his dick,” Yvonne said.
“No,” Martha said, “I wanna suck his dick. I like to suck dicks and Merton doesn’t care if I suck his or not.”
“I never knew a man who didn’t like a blowjob,” Gladys said.
“Merton acts like he doesn’t,” Martha said. “We were in Las Vegas in one of those rooms with a round bed and a mirror over the bed. I put on some sexy black lingerie—stockings, garter belt, push-up bra. I spread him out on that bed and sucked his dick, ran my tongue up and down his shaft, tickled him under his balls. He started to come and I put my mouth over it and swallowed every drop of it—god, I love the taste of cum. Do you know what that bastard did? He said, ‘Thanks, Honey,’ got up, put on his pajamas and went to sleep. That was two years ago and I haven’t given him a blowjob since—but I miss tasting cock.”
“I’m sorry,” Yvonne said. “You can give him a blowjob when the bridge group meets at your house, but the hostess gets to give the blowjob.”
“But I wanna suck his dick!” Martha said.
“How about he eats your pussy?” Sherry asked.
“Oh, that would be great,” Martha answered. “Merton has never done that. In fact, no one has ever done that to me.”
“Slut,” Yvonne said, “eat Martha’s pussy. Make her enjoy it and make her cum.”
Martha was up with her skirt, pantyhose and panties off in a flash. She sat back down and spread her legs. I went over, knelt in front of her and began to lick her clit. She jumped and said, “Oh, my god—this is so good.” I put my tongue deep in her pussy, which was wet and ready. She pulled my head into her pussy and I thought I might not be able to breathe. I nibbled on her clit and she began to grind her ass on the chair. The other women were cheering her on.
“Come on, Martha.” ” Get it on, Martha.” “You can do it, girl” “Get him to make you cum, Martha.” They even began a cheer: “Two, four six, eight; Guess whose pussy Billy ate.”
Martha reached up and unbuttoned her blouse. Then she reached around and unhooked her bra revealing a set of DD size, sixty-year old tits. She was squeezing her nipples and moaning. In what seemed like a short time, Martha closed her huge thighs on my head and began to pump her pussy against my mouth. Just when I thought I would lose my breath, she began to cum.
Oh, shit!” Martha screamed. “Keep it up…god, don’t stop…this is so fucking good….FUCK.” Martha bounced up and down on the chair, twisting my head right and left each time her ass hit the chair. Finally, she let go of my head and leaned back, mostly naked, her juices all over my face and down her legs. The other women cheered and clapped.
Martha bent down and licked her juices off my face. Then she said, “Clean my legs, bitch.” I did as told and licked her juices off her inner thighs.
I hadn’t noticed that while I was eating Martha’s pussy, Sherry and Gladys had stripped from the waist down and were masturbating each other while kissing. It was a pretty good show. They continued their girl-girl lovemaking until they both came. Then they looked at me and smiled.
“Surprised?” Sherry asked. “We’re not gay – just a little bi. I see Willie liked the show.” My dick was indeed very hard.
“My turn,” Yvonne said. “Come stand here, slut. I’m going to suck Willie.”
I stood in front of Yvonne. She had taken off her slacks and panties because, as she announced, she was going to masturbate herself until my cum filled her mouth. With that she went about giving me one hell of a blowjob. The others clapped and cheered Willie on. “Let’s see if that big boy can shoot.”
I was getting weak in the knees and my still aching ass was starting to contract. I felt myself about to cum. Yvonne felt it too, and pulled back her head and opened her mouth. I shot my load in her mouth and all over her face. She swallowed the cum in her mouth and then had a powerful organism from her masturbation.
“Clean my face, slut,” she said. I bent over and licked my cum off her face, tasting it for the first time.
The girls got dressed and left. Fortunately, they could all walk home because none of them needed to drive. Martha reminded everyone that bridge was at her house next week and she was going to suck my dick.
In the kitchen I put my thong on and was about to get dressed when Yvonne came up to me. “Good job,” she said and slipped a $100 bill in my thong. “See you next week.”
On the way home I felt happier than I had in years. My dick was hard. I had been humiliated by four women for over three hours. I had been given a really good blowjob and I had a brand new $100 bill. This sure beats the hell out of practicing law.