The Founding Father Ch. 09

Mist often forms when warmer air over water suddenly encounters the cooler surface of land.

Sherman Adams Pond was plenty warm from the day before, and with the cool, early-morning temperatures, it created a rising mist all throughout the grounds.

Kat and John walked out together.

They chit-chatted, yawned every now and again as 7 a.m. approached. As they made their way through the damp, dew-drenched grass, a dozen and a half or so completely-naked men slowly came into view.

John laughed as he felt like he was in the locker room at the local YMCA. Kat tried to be nonchalant, speaking more about the weather than anything else.

"Feel like I'm curled up on the couch, reading 'Hound of the Baskervilles,'" she laughed, speaking of the fog-like mist.

************

Kat looked stunning.

She had really done it up. True, it wasn't summer time, but she was inspired to wear the red-white-and-blue-striped one-piece swimsuit that she picked up at an airport a couple years ago in Helena, Montana. It had never been worn, and she felt CFNM Games I was the perfect time to don it.

She had died her hair a chestnut brown. Her new look was as surprising as it was sexy.

"You think I overdid it with my attire?" she asked John with a smile.

"Kat, you look amazing," John gushed. "You look like a true ambassador of the Games..."

John was almost floored by her outfit. "Leggy" is the word that came to mind.

Kat's luscious limbs were fully on display, especially her wonderfully big, fully-rounded thighs that he always loved gazing upon.

Each authoritative step she took seemed to accentuate them further.

"Great legs, Kat," he felt compelled to say.

"Aw, thank you," she replied warmly.

Bernadette Habersham came running up.

"We have a great day for it," she said with a big smile, sipping her hot and fresh, slow-roasted coffee.

"We do," Kat responded. "John and I were just remarking about the mist..."

She chuckled, then felt she had to expound on her remark.

"As we walked back from the patio to the field, we were slowly introduced to a heavy dose of full-frontal male nudity (laugh)..."

Bernadette simply nodded, having been to many CFNM events before.

"More and more penises came popping up in the mist - it was funny," Kat said lightheartedly.

"Now the coat check system is in effect," Bernadette confirmed. "We had all the guys undress out here, and then Linda and Nicole were taking clothes in. Each guy got a blue chip or red chip, depending on which room their clothes went into."

"Great," Kat said approvingly.

She turned to John.

"We used poker chips from Bally's Casino," she smiled.

"Naturally," he replied.

*****************

There was one fella Kat just had to talk to. It couldn't wait.

And that was Arthur, who at first was a naysayer of The Games but had followed through on his promise, and was right there in the flesh.

"Hi, Art," Kat said in a playfully taunting, fun-spirited way.

"Katherine," he simply said.

She smiled, looking him up and down.

"Nice stripes," he said in a complimentary tone, speaking of her swimsuit.

Art had played college football at The Air Force Academy, so he had a special appreciation for anything patriotic.

"Thank you, sir," she replied, squatting down in a sexy pose, showcasing her legs that much more.

After a slight pause...

"Nice dick," she said, sending a compliment back his way.

All of the guys huddled around - four or five or so - cracked up.

"Thanks, Katherine," he begrudgingly mustered.

She hugged him, with a big smile.

Parading around in the nude, especially with dozens of women present, wasn't Art's idea of a good time. But he was coming around.

"Aw, thanks for doing this, Art," she said.

"Hey, I may not see any boobs or bush today, but this is for a good cause and you're a warmhearted person, so..."

"Aw, thanks," she answered.

"And we're donating to a couple of the veterans' charities," she informed him gladly. "We're expecting a decent gate today plus with all the sales from the VHS edition..."

"Great, thanks, Katherine," he said.

"No problem," she said with a giggle. "Have a great time today..."

**********

Joyce Sweet, a local favorite, sang the National Anthem.

All 18 men stood along one of the spray-painted finish lines, hands folded behind their back. Their firm, upstanding posture allowed the 50 or so female spectators to sneak many a glance while Sweet's pipes were given a workout.

Soon after, Kat, John and Bernadette stood around making small talk until Mary Ellen, donning her souvenir 1984 Olympic Sweatsuit (a bit tight but that wasn't a bad thing on Mary Ellen), came jogging up.

"Anyone do a penis count yet?" she laughed.

"A what?" Kat chuckled.

"Well, she means a head count, but in this case...," Bernadette offered.

"I did count 18 men, yes," Kat confirmed with a grin. "We are all ready to go."

The dozens of chairs lining the fields were all filled. Women wore tops ranging from hoodies to blouses, with anything from jeans to business skirts. It was casual, but with a certain buzz in the air.

"Barbara is here filming, and along with all the game action, she's going around getting quick bios on each of the competitors," Katherine informed.

"Oh, great," Bernadette said.

**************

John wasn't prepared for just how loud The Games would be.

About a half hour in, he felt like he was at a rock concert.

Screaming and shouting came from every area of the spacious grounds.

The women were at full throat.

John, clinging to Kat as much as he could all throughout the morning (and who could blame him?), sidled up alongside the sexy brunette.

They were watching the potato sack race.

Two muscled-up gentlemen came down the final stretch. Competitive juices were flowing, looks of determination displayed across their faces.

"Wow, this one is neck and neck," Paige said.

"Or dick and dick," laughed Sue.

Kat cracked a smile.

"Those are some awfully-short potato sacks," John noticed, pretty much knowing the reason for that.

"We cut them off short so...EVERYTHING would be on display," Paige gushed.

"We thought about letting the guys wear a kynodesme," Mary Ellen said.

Everyone looked at her for clarification.

"That's what they wore, at the early Olympics. They're to keep...well, your dick...from flopping up and down like that," she explained.

"Why would you want to prohibit that?! That's the best part of the event," local party girl Rachel Chambers said in a rousing fashion.

"Why do you think the potato sack race is the loudest even there is?" laughed her best friend, Amber Whitney. "What do you think all the cheers are for?"

*******

John had just won himself a silver medal in the 50-meter dash.

His high school track coach would have been proud.

About to go and brag to Kat, John spotted a youngish, maybe 18-to-20-year-old guy standing off by himself.

Funny thing was, he was sporting a raging hard-on. It appeared as though he didn't know what to do with it.

Some of the women took notice of the guy and offered their compliments.

"Great cock," shouted one of the spectators.

"Would you stroke it for us?" asked another.

The young guy didn't know what to do. Before he could make a plan, his body clenched and his hardened penis began to spasm.

The women clapped and hollered as the young man ejaculated right before them, in copious amounts.

They loved it.

Kat caught a glimpse of this and let it breathe.

Sure, it would have been better for the guy to wait until "The Shooting Contest" later in the day, but she realized situations like this were bound to happen.

Like a foul ball at a baseball game.

Kat and John smiled at each other.

"That might have been me - "

"I was just gonna say, that might have been you if we didn't get you used to us seeing your cock on a regular basis," Kat laughed.

The mist was long gone and the sun was breaking through the clouds.

Caffeinated drinks had given way to beer and wine.

CFNM Games I was heating up, and getting louder and more raucous by the minute.

TO BE CONTINUED...