You Can't Be Invited To Every Party

You Can't Be Invited To Every Party

Last Friday was a beautiful day at the prairie. A change in the weather resulted in a lowering of the humidity. It had been so oppressive of late. This was a much needed reprieve. Clear, blue skies reigned above with the gentlest of breezes providing an occasional caress below. One could hope for little more.

The prairie flowers, at their peak the previous week, were now a bit on the wane. But the surging grasses, tall and lush, appeared eager to compensate.

I was having 'a day'; dealing with auto repairs, logistics, and wayward expense reports. When I finally arrived at the prairie, I felt like someone seeking sanctuary. Muting my phone, I unfurled my blanket under my favorite oak tree and began to 'unplug' in many ways. As all the day's voices with their demands began to fade, I stripped down to my bare essentials, covering my thirsty skin with oil. 

After a quick walk through, greeting a few familiar faces, I settled in. I'd forgotten my book, but had a small snack and my thoughts to keep me occupied. It was very quiet, no distractions, so it was easy to lose myself. Every so often, in need of a stretch, I'd walk the prairie's perimeter, taking note of subtle changes in the landscape, a lone monarch catching my eye from time to time as it flitted whimsically about.

The sun felt good on my skin.

Later that afternoon, on one of my walkabouts, I came upon a sight I hadn't seen since last summer. There, on the opposite side of the prairie, almost lost in the shoulder-high grass, a group of seven men gathered, standing in close formation. Four of them stood in a tight circle, facing each other, while three others stood apart, but within watching distance. It didn't take a genius to realize that in the middle of that group of four was yet another man, on his knees, taking care of some very primal needs. 

Remaining on the main path, a good ten yards from the action, I stopped to watch. Immediately, I recognized two of the men in the circle: a bonded couple whom, in the past, were frequent playmates of mine. They're nice guys, easily ten years my junior. One, forward and a bit brash - there's a salesman to be found in his sly smile and easy, idiomatic style. The other? Rather shy and retiring, but quick to share a quiet smile before stealing away. They compliment one another physically, as well; the more confident of the two, a blonde-ginger, stocky and muscular with a bit of a belly which ebbs and wanes, depending on how dedicated he is at the gym. His partner in crime, dark-haired with a boyish face, is slim, lithe, and toned with the softest, whitest of skin. 

I know their dicks so well I could draw them from memory. For a long time now, they have been one of the highlights of my summers at the prairie. They'd approached me earlier in the summer, wanting to play, but all I could offer was a socially-distanced jerk off session. That didn't seem enough for the more dominant of the pair and they haven't really approached me since. 

Yes, it's been a summer of distant waves and apologetic smiles. 

I know some of the others, too, though not as well. Part of the circle, a soft-bodied, plump Wiccan man-boy with a shock of brilliant blue and green hair. We played years ago, but have since lost interest in one another. Occasional conversations for the purpose of information gathering seem to be all we can muster these days. 

And those watching; a dark, swarthy fellow in his late twenties - rather handsome - whom I am not familiar with, a man I call Mister Fister, whom I am very familiar with, and an older gentleman; bald, in good shape, but definitely showing his age, whom I spoke to earlier that day. He hinted that he wanted to play, but I declined.

One of the men in the circle, is a new face - not that I can see much of it, as his attention was focused downward, no doubt because he was the one being serviced. He's a tall, ruddy, stocky, ginger with a full beard and a baseball cap on his head. Late-thirties. Very masculine. I watched and listened to him gasp as he edged towards climax. 

My immediate impulse was to join. It was clear to me who the ringleaders of this particular circus were, and I knew them well. But I held back. No one had acknowledged my presence. Of course, I was a good ten yards away and they were... well, all very busy. Still, it gave me pause. And in that instant, I decided to continue on my way around the perimeter of the prairie. 

Once back at my tree, I assessed how I felt. Sad, to be excluded, for sure. But something about the whole situation felt very wrong. Part of me was very concerned that they weren't social distancing - no one had a mask on. Truth told, no one had anything on at all. And had they asked that I join, I would have declined. Still, I felt excluded. And that's when I told myself, "Well, you can't be invited to every party." For some reason, that made sense to me. I immediately felt better; about how I'd handled the situation and my decision to not take part. 

Because, in order to attend future parties, and there will eventually be some, you have to accept that you are not invited to this one and that even if you were invited, you'd have to decline. So keep your eye on the prize - think of all tomorrow's parties; those that you might miss out on if you tried to force your way into this one. And it's not only because your presence might be unwanted, it's also a matter of health and safety.

I sat on my blanket and consoled myself. Soon, Mister Fister was walking my way. We waved at one anther and he continued on, probably getting something from his bike. Moments later, he walked past me again, returning to the scene. It got me thinking. No harm in watching from a safe distance, right? I got up and followed.  

This time I stepped in a bit closer... everyone was exactly where I'd left them. And from my new vantage point, about five yards away, I could see that everyone was, indeed, naked - including Mr. Fister. 

Everyone was either having their dicks sucked or working their dicks with their hands. I dropped my towel and joined. Hey, this was the circle jerk I'd been wanting since March!

The couple I knew caught sight of me and gave me a knowing nod. They motioned with their heads for me to join them, but I remained in place, thinking, 'remember... you can't be invited to every party'. The Wiccan also turned to acknowledge me, so now I felt part of the group, albeit apart from the group. 

The bearded ginger let out a subdued, lusty roar and everyone's attention focused on him as he shot his load. It made me wonder about the identity of the piggy in the middle, whom I still couldn't see. Lucky piggy. 

In summers past, that piggy might have been me!

The ruddy, bearded ginger quickly pulled up his shorts and righted his ball cap before making a hasty exit. His body made me think of an old-time circus weight lifter, only he's not as defined.  

My attention swiftly returned to the circle. The more confident half of the couple was about to blow his load. I know, because I've seen him do it dozens and dozens of times. There's a telltale flush in his cheeks to look for, as his eyes grow big with anticipation. I moved a bit closer, drawn by his familiar energy.

Having cum, he stepped back a bit, showing off his still rock-hard spent dick. He's not hung, but for some reason, it appeared bigger and thicker than normal. This was the first time I got a glimpse of our cocksucker. He's dark-haired with a five o'clock shadow. I couldn't see his body because he was crouched and the Wiccan was bent over him, fidgeting with something, blocking my view. The cocksucker turned to concentrate on the other half of the couple. 

The shy one is always so sweet. I get the impression he follows the lead of his more dominate partner like a child wanting to fit in with the bigger boys and is merely playacting as an adult. Moments later, as he fired one off, he looked as if he'd just shot a basketball through the hoop for the first time. 

The piggy in the middle rose. Apparently, he was either not interested in finishing off the Wiccan or the Wiccan had already shot his load. In any event, I assessed the newcomer. I'd never seen him before. He's handsome. Traditionally so, with an incredible chest lined with a modicum of black fur. In times past, I would have been all over him, not that he'd be interested. Still, none of those present, save for Mr. Fister, are above average in the looks department, so... given his recent performance, maybe I would stand a ghost of a chance with him.  

Speaking of Mr. Fister - it was all eyes on him, for it appeared he'd been cranking away on his sizable dick and was about to cum. I risked stepping in closer, because I'd seen his cock up close and personal and I really wanted to see him lose his load. He announced that he was ready and the cocksucker, replied, "yeah, yeah yeah?" I could tell he was biting at the bit to get that load. But Mister Fister was social distancing and held up his free hand as if to say 'stay away'. "Yeah. I'm close. I'm gonna blow."

That's all that the cocksucker needed to hear. He rushed forward and dropped to his knees in front of Mister Fister, desperate to get that cock in his mouth. Mister Fister did his best to back up, but he seemed lost in his orgasm at the same time, so, in a way, he was unable to defend himself. I watched as his load erupted. Lots of cum. Hard to say if it traveled all that far, but there was a lot of cum. And the cocksucker was doing his best to catch what he could.

This sudden breach of etiquette on the part of the cocksucker, had me backing away, grabbing my towel and covering my hard on - just in case he got any other great ideas. I returned to my tree, feeling better, happy to have witnessed most of what I'd seen. Mister Fister followed shortly after. We chatted briefly, not mentioning anything that had just transpired. 

Thirty minutes later, I got up for another lap around the prairie. When I reached the opposite side, I was surprised to see that they were all still there. The more outgoing of the partners came towards me, bringing in tow the cocksucker. He introduced us and told me it was the cocksucker's first time at the prairie. Still high on all the sexual energy recently expended, the cocksucker waxed breathlessly about how beautiful the prairie is and how much fun he'd just had and how much he liked it all. Then, he pointed at me, up and down and said, "Yeah, and I like all of that, too." I was like, "Really? Well, thanks. You're hot as fuck."  Then my friend reached over and tugged on one of the cocksucker's nips. "Hard-wired", he announced, as he pointed to the tenting pole in the cocksuckers cute short-shorts. Damn!

We made small talk for a bit longer and then, sensing that they were thinking I wanted to fool around, I wished them well and moved back to my spot under the tree. 

That cocksucker is so hot. I just wanna eat him up.  

But not now. Not today. 

Maybe in the future...

... maybe at one of tomorrow's parties. 

All Tomorrow's Parties - Japan