Rub a Dub Dub Ch. 08

"You have to guess who is playing with or sucking you."

"Ah!" The game revealed.

"Do you want to go first?"

Ben smiled. It was just him and Mary at the table. She had nothing to hang through the hole or rather slot between two tables. It would have to be him upon the table. He clambered up, pretty much game for anything upon this so strange and weirdly erotic holiday. Carefully he lowered both penis and balls through the gap, letting the whole assembly hang beneath the table. Ben closed his eyes unsure if he was about to be massaged or spanked. Not a touch came as he lay there. His mind wandered. Several more days of the holiday to go but it was drawing to a close. Soon he would have to pack his bags and go to the airport and home. Some more peaceful fishing and -- yes -- some more sex. Probably imminently.

He felt a touch to his penis. Finger, lips, tongue, toe? Ben's whole concentration went straight to his penis. Him lying there on the top sunning his bottom, beneath just his genitalia hanging. There was a certain disembodiment to it - it being through the hole and on the other side of the table. Was that very much how it was for Mary? She under the table with just a limp penis hanging there. It would not be long before it was firm, already he could feel it changing and becoming engorged; yes, within her mouth, he was growing inside her warm and wet mouth. She had taken her time.

"You have to guess who it is, Ben, don't hurry yourself. Just think." Mary's voice behind him. It was not her under the table, after all.

Ben wondered not only who it was but what it was like playing with a disembodied penis. In the nature of things, there by the lake, he rather suspected he would find out! The mouth sucked in much of his penis and fingers lightly stroked his hanging balls. Lovely sensations.

Of course, all the gang might be under the table. The hand stroking his balls might not belong to the mouth. When the mouth momentarily left his cock, leaving it wet, hard and jerking a little, was it another person's mouth taking him in next? Were they all down there looking at his erection -- close to? Were they going to make him cum so all could watch it happen close up, see the white semen dripping from his knob; four tongues licking as it fell? Again, the eroticism of it all so strong. Maybe, before he had come on holiday, secretly hoped for a holiday romance, but that would, perhaps, have involved sex with that one woman. Instead, he had fallen into something very much larger and a lot less conventional. And once more it was back to the group's seeming theme -- hidden sex, sex without knowing who you were touching or being touched by. Indeed, who you were being sucked by -- or sucking -- or fucking. An anonymity -- it being about the organs not the person.

The fingers, though, felt gentle, the mouth similarly soft and feminine. If he was right, it narrowed it down. Somehow it felt more Liz than Felicity... unless it was everyone. "It's Liz," he said.

A smack upon his upturned and vulnerable bottom. "Well done, Ben, spot on!"

He tried to rise but his expanded penis made it difficult to extract himself. Only when Liz helped by easing his balls back up through the gap was he able to stand. Once more that rather special feeling of standing with two girls stark naked and displaying what he would not normally display - his cock upstanding. It made him feel the more manly. The stag with his harem -- OK, rather a small harem, but a little larger when Felicity joined them. Wonderful to be standing there turgid in friendly company.

"Greg's turn." The other two men standing a little way off. Their antlers, to continue the simile, nothing like Ben's -- their penises were not turgid.

The trouble was that once Greg was up, he would have the bigger horn. In a clash Graham and Ben would be sent packing leaving Greg the stag with the harem, to bellow and to strut.

Greg got up on the table and pushed his penis and balls through the gap just as Ben had done. Mary blindfolded him. He would not know who was going under the table. They all sat down to watch. The naked man above the table and hanging below his penis and balls; they could from the side see all; obviously the penis and balls belonged to Greg but somehow the table made them seem separate.

"Erect him, Ben," whispered Mary.

Ben crawled under the table to do as he was told, conscious everyone would be watching him as well as the hanging genitalia. There in front of him, Greg's thick, soft cock, just there, not even swinging. His big balls too in their slack and generous scrotum down through the gap between the tables. A superb example of male genitalia. The smooth pale pink knob half showing through the slightly retracted foreskin. Even in its resting state, Greg was a big boy; remarkable how perhaps just a touch with finger or tongue might start it moving and growing. A transformation scene from soft hanging appendage to powerful horn -- just like his own had done. Perhaps that was the association. Greg's penis an extension of his own. Before, he had seen it attached to the man but now it was separate -- just the genitalia. He liked it. Ben had never had significant gay thoughts but... but he liked this cock, he liked cocks. He would not want a relationship with a man, he would keep to the women, thank you very much, but cocks were rather different especially on their own.

Another strange experience. Would Ben think back to that morning, when it had been him and a cock on its own. Separated from the man -- Greg -- it could almost have been Ben's own. Ben played often enough with his alone -- was it that much different playing with a disembodied cock that was not actually his own?

They could all see him under that table. Greg at least knew whosoever was under the table could be a man, but what of the position if he was invited under a table by a girl whose boyfriend/husband/client was above and had no idea at all? The man, well massaged and resting, awaiting 'release' from his wife, girlfriend or, indeed, masseuse. How much might Ben enjoy an intimacy with the man's 'equipment' totally divorced from the man, being able to examine, play, tickle, lick and suck with the man having no idea it was not the girl. She might even have left him to it for a while, crawled away so it was just him and the hanging penis. A penis and balls to play with as if his own, but able to have his head so much closer, indeed have its head in his mouth, even until the man came. The phrase 'love the penis not the man' came to his mind. It seemed somehow true for him -- leastways on holiday!

Ben's finger ran along the underside of Greg's penis and it twitched. How long would he play with the imagined man's cock? Might the girl just sit and watch him? The man would be enjoying the feelings, would want the pleasure prolonged, would be imagining the girl at play. What if he started talking? Well, she couldn't speak with his cock in her mouth could she!

Lovely to hear the girl and man talking afterwards and him saying how good 'she' had been. A delicious awfulness in imagining he knew the man, they were colleagues or something, but the man not having any inkling Ben had not just seen, not just played but wanked and sucked his cock into emission. That said, Ben could not really think who back home he would really like to play that trick upon!

Ben drew back Greg's foreskin, rather marvelling at the freedom that his meeting with the group had given him. His fingers encircled and he felt the blood pumping as Greg grew in his hand. Remarkable the change in its size. What a big lad he was! Ben wondered if Greg could withdraw back through the hole once erect. Was he perhaps trapped? He began to stroke the skin up and down, revealing the head entirely and then covering it.

"Rough hands," said Greg from above, "fisherman's hands I should say!"

He had been detected. Ben withdrew from under the table. It was somebody else's turn. Mary moved in but Greg seemed able to spot his wife's mouth on his cock almost immediately. No doubt he knew her technique.

Liz next. Lovely to watch her lips wrapped around Greg's cock. Just double the visual pleasure. A fine cock and a pretty girl fellating it. Not just any old cock but a big one in Liz's mouth. Very, very sexual. Even more impressive when Liz got up on all fours and managed to scuttle back and embed Greg in her vagina. Quite a feat.

"That's not a mouth," said Greg, "it's, it's got to be Liz, I can't see anyone else being so supple. More, more!"

She was stroking him, her body oscillating forwards and backwards, very much in a coital motion. The only connection between the two was sexual, their bodies separated by the table. Unfortunately, she could not hold the pose and dropped down onto the grass on her back, the penis coming from her, wet and big. It was twitching. Would it, would it spurt? No.

Ben was pushed forward again. Greg's firm erection looking even more appetising now 'dressed' with Liz's lubrication. It really was such a fine looking cock. More than a little pleasure to take the big bulb into his mouth, taste Liz and fellate.

"It's you, Ben. You just haven't got the skill or practice the girls have!"

Found out again. He would have to practise -- well, perhaps not! Not after the holiday.

Felicity's turn, but Greg thought it was Graham! He might have an eye at the end of his cock but it did not always give a perfect image!

"Come on," said Greg, "someone make me cum. I'm starting to get desperate, or should I perhaps chase and catch one of you girls?

The easy play of the group such a joy -- it had been such an eyeopener to Ben. Greg could suggest he might like to chase and more than likely the girls would all run off pretending to run away and escape but inevitably being caught. A play rape game for all. What a thing for a stranger upon the shore to see. Three naked and erect men chasing naked women. But Greg found he could not indeed withdraw from the hole. Trapped by his cock. The problem of having too big a cock!

"Go on, Ben, whispered Mary, you want to suck Greg's big knob to conclusion, don't you?"

Only that morning he had sucked off Graham, had had his head held down by Felicity whilst he did the deed; Graham's wife ensuring Graham came in Ben's mouth. He was going to do it again -- this time to Greg. Ben crawled forward, penis hanging firm. Once more Ben Baker slipped his lips over Greg's big knob, sucking on the detached penis, indeed seeing how much he could take in his mouth. Trying to swallow the big cock. And then he began a steady rhythmic fellation, just as he liked himself. And then he felt a mouth upon his own cock.

So good to fellate and be fellated -- again that feeling of almost sucking his own cock (if he should be so lucky to be long enough or him supple enough!). If he had been sucking his own he would know if he was about to come but had not the same intimate knowledge with Greg's. It was a matter of judgement and reading the signs. It would be a surprise, well, sort of -- sucking a penis will tend to have that result at some point.

It was a surprise. Expected but nonetheless sudden. The spurt into his mouth, hot cum; another stronger spurt, the penis doing what penises do; he was counting the shots as he felt his mouth fill. A lot was coming out. Greg had not come that morning. Ben drew back a little, the cum still pouring out and he began to swallow.

A sigh from above him, "Thank you, Felicity."

There was laughter. Ben had obviously improved his technique. It was, though, for him to thank Felicity. He had not known who was sucking his own cock. Had not been able to look with his attention devoted to Greg's cock. Only after his own spurting had happened did he turn to see Felicity in possession, sucking the last remnants of his ejaculation from him.

The same day but in the late evening there was yet more sexual activity. Perhaps there was an urgency because of the approaching end to their sojourn by the lake.

"A fuck before bed anybody?" It was like asking about a final round of drinks or a cup of coffee or cocoa. Liz asking it straight out as they sat around the table chatting in the dark. A few candles upon the table casting a little light.

"I wouldn't mind."

"Nor I."

It was the women talking. The men had said nothing. Quite remarkable really, thought Ben. He would so have expected the men in a group of six like that to have proposed the idea and the women been ambivalent or almost complaining 'hadn't they done enough of that today?' But no! Could, of course the men, actually prove up to it.

"Come on boys, cocks out. I want a hard one -- actually I want three..."

"All at once, Liz? You greedy girl." It was Felicity.

"I've got room!"

And still the men had not said a thing.

"But what about us, Liz, what about us?" Mary stood and reached up under her light cotton dress and brought her knickers down and tossed them backwards over her head. It caused the other two women to do the same.

What a remarkably sexual act of showing their readiness for copulation, removing any barrier to a firm and swollen knob finding its way into their bodies. All done in the candlelight. It did it for him. Ben could feel firmness in his shorts. Ben stood, pulled off his shirt and dropped his shorts; leaning forward, he brought himself down a little so he rested his balls upon the metal table edge, feeling its coolness just behind them. His cock stood ready. He rather delighted in showing it to the assembled company. How things had changed!

"One nice one," said Liz, "that'll do me."

But the other men did just the same, three swollen penises standing upon the table. Balls resting upon its edge.

"The Three Musketeers," laughed Mary.

But, Ben thought, really there were four in Dumas' tales. The three originals, Athos, Porthos and Aramis, before D'Artagnan joined them. Had Peter been there then Ben would have been the D'Artagnan, the newcomer, somewhat the young Gascon, though hardly headstrong like him but perhaps a little naïve, introduced into the ways of the Three Musketeers.

It was wonderful, almost normal, sex; sexual intercourse by candlelight. Three naked men seated with the women riding them still in their light cotton dresses, albeit with buttons undone and boobs exposed for play: almost normal, but not quite, because there was a certain amount of changing around. Quite a lot in fact. Liz most certainly got her 'three' but sequentially, rather than all together.

Just lovely to have girl after girl settle down upon his upright cock, push down so it rose up inside her warm, wet canal. Multiple penetrations; no less than six breasts to touch and suckle upon; three hard little clitorises to stroke one after another and, indeed, closely compare between his fingers. Superb sex, normal sex (well normal if the groupness, the publicness and the swopping about was ignored. No odd games anyway and no male/male activity if the sharing of women was ignored); made somewhat the better for the men having come earlier that day; not so ready to cum; a prolonged pleasure for the whole party. Very much heterosexual sex, Ben's knob going into vagina after vagina after vagina. Tight, warm wet sheath after sheath. That superb pleasure of penetration and then sliding up and up, repeated again and again.

But there comes a point; and come it (or they) did.

Ben walked back to his hotel a contented man. As he neared the hotel, he thought he should perhaps put his shorts and shirt back on. It had been rather good walking back in the dark naked, his soft penis swinging with a certain rubbery, post coital feel; wet indeed still from the three pussies it had worked so well, still betraying that he had come, most pleasantly in Mary. His semen in her. Ben smiled as he paused looking at the lights of the hotel not that far away, and drawing up his shorts, tucking his well-used penis away. He squeezed it, soft in his hand. Mary would probably be asleep by now, Greg perhaps snoring beside her. So strange really. Gregg's semen not in his wife but inside Graham's wife -- and Graham's in Liz's red-haired snatch; whilst, warm inside Mary, was his -- Ben's cum. Other men's semen in Greg and Graham's wives. Ben shook his head -- and, what he so would not have expected at the start of his holiday, the other men's in his stomach. He had sucked both Greg and Graham's cocks to conclusion that day -- and swallowed. Something he would have thought was just so not his scene. Ben smiled. But fucking their wives certainly had been!

Ben stood up and clambered from the tub the next evening. His earlier shyness long gone. He smiled as he walked towards the house to fetch beer from the fridge. Could he have done that on those first few days with the group? Wonderful things going on beneath the water but very much not above. Ben recalled his fear at first of being found to be erect. Of having to get out of the tub all stiff and pointing.

What if he had been asked to go and get some beer back then? Probably they would all have appeared to ignore the swollen cock completely. Perhaps Greg or Graham would have gone first, and Ben been amazed nobody commented on the erections. Probably to add to the conceit, Greg or Graham would have ensured they walked back like that, carrying the beer, clambered up into the tub each with a cock like a baton, even contriving to almost poke Ben in the eye. He could imagine some subterfuge to get him then to stand up and go to the kitchen. A forgotten bottle opener or a desire for crisps or peanuts. Could he have done it? Just stood up and presented his cock all hard. Would he have tried to cover his knob with his foreskin first -- a limited modesty and decency! Perhaps for it only to roll back and expose him right in front of them all!

And now? It was just so good to be exposed to his friends. Have his cock swollen in sexual excitement in front of them all; so happy with the free and easy way they all touched each other. Women and men, women and women, men and men. He was as happy to reach out and hold a cock as a lovely curving breast... almost.

Cold beer clasped to him, Ben walked back from the house and got back in the tub, cocking his leg over and knowing his cock and balls were just hanging there for all to see.

Ben leant back against the wooden wall of the tub, beer in hand, as a hand touched his penis and stroked. In a way so good to be back at that first touch in the tub a week and a half before, after the strangeness of everyone taking bathing things off and sitting there naked but hidden within swirling waters, back so that he had all of the sexual things that had happened to happen all over again.

Do we not all wish at the end of a holiday that it could be the beginning all over again?

All good things come to an end: not least holidays. A languid evening of sex and wine on their last night. His newfound friends having to go home. Ben looked out over the moonlit lake. He was walking along the lake shore. The holiday had been so different from what he had planned. He had hardly spent any time at the hotel; had hardly eaten there. Yes, he had fished several times, once even from the island, but not most days as he had planned. He had expected a solitary holiday, perhaps with a limited intercourse with other people in the hotel; perhaps even palling up with another fisherman. But he had not expected the social intercourse, still less the sexual intercourse, he had enjoyed with a whole group of people: and most certainly not the very strange sexual activity he had experienced. To have touched let alone sucked another man's penis was not at all anything he would have expected, still less to have had two penises in his mouth at the same time and in his bottom separately. He had fucked three other men's wives -- with two of the men present at the time. Ben had played games he would not have imagined before he came to the lakeside house.