The Twelve Gays of Christmas

Beyond him, things were reaching a new level. At the far corner, a fifth man was standing, thrusting powerfully into the hole in front of him. This guy made Mr. Buns look gentle, slamming his hips rapidly against the wall with a steady thudding noise that served like a drum beat beneath the melody of moans filling the air. For the first time, a second voice joined his grunts of effort, a low keening "oh! oh! oh!" in time with his thrusting. They weren't quite separate sounds, though, more like a continuous deep groan with sharp peaks coincident with the thrusts. The bass line, I suppose.

Down the switchback path from him, to my surprise, was the exit door. As we got close to it, however, I noticed that the path turned one more time, back toward Mr. McThrusty. Though too far to see fine details, the scene at the end of this last passage was clear enough. A final man was bent at the waist, pants around his knees, with his ass pressed to the hole in the wall and his hands braced on the opposite side. His whole body shook with each powerful thrust from the fifth man, who I could also see from my position. The wall was only about an inch thick, so from my vantage at the far end of the hall it served as an odd visual addition to the tableau that somehow made it more stimulating, not less.

Noticing that my pants were developing a wet spot, I pulled Adam through the door and let it close behind us, shutting out the symphony of pleasure.

"I, um..." I had to swallow. "That was kind of...intense."

"Intensely hot, you mean," said Adam, as we came around the bend to the next room. "Dildos Thrusting in a Gaping Hole" was already playing, but we were mostly inured to the background music by this point. I think Adam was about to say something else, but the door opened before us, and whatever it was died in his throat.

This room was smaller than those we'd come through before, probably only spanning halfway across the building instead of all the way. In its center was a raised dais, upon which was a sort of wide padded bench or ottoman or something. I wasn't really paying attention to the furnishings, as the man atop the bench was holding my focus entirely.

Lean, well-muscled and gloriously naked, he was on all fours, with the door we came through facing him side-on. As we watched, he arched his back and pushed the first lump of a segmented rod, slick with lube, into his asshole. The toy had five beads of increasing size up its length, with the first smaller than a grape and the last looking upwards of golf ball size.

As we stared, transfixed, he worked the first bead around a bit inside himself, then pulled it out with a groan. With his eyes closed--he apparently took no notice of us at all--the performer pushed the first bead back inside, then added the second. His thick erection, swinging beneath him, released a single pearlescent drop that fell onto the padded surface.

Clearly, the thin pretense of modesty they'd been maintaining, with all the paltry obfuscation and just-barely-blocked visuals, was gone. If I hadn't already been hard from the last room, I'd have leapt to attention in seconds. Adam looked like he was about to tear through his pants, and was openly rubbing the bulge.

With another deep-throated moan, the man on the platform pulled the second bead out, shoved it back in, and then kept going until the third--noticeably larger than the first two--stretched his hole enough to vanish within. He started to swirl it around inside himself again, causing his cock to jump and another drop to fall. I realized that, like Adam, I was rubbing my erection through my clothes, and made myself stop. Creaming my pants would not be helpful.

We started to circle slowly around the platform, appreciating the performer from every angle. He was straight-up fucking himself with the toy, now, pulling all three beads in and out of his slick hole. After a moment, he started pushing in the fourth, even larger bead, and cried out in ecstasy when it popped through and was swallowed by his hole. Long trails of precum were dripping from his dick, now, and from the wetness in my pants I was in the same state. I noticed Adam trying to cram his hand behind his belt, actually reaching down his pants, and caught his wrist. Without looking away from the mesmerizing tableau, he instead squeezed my hand tightly, as though hanging on for dear life. His other hand kept right on rubbing his erection through his pants.

Up on the platform, the...artist, I guess, for this surely was art...took a deep breath and started to screw the fifth, massive bead into his hole, twisting and rotating it as he pushed. We could only stare, hand in hand and more turned on than we had ever been in our lives, as he ever so slowly took that final lump inside himself. After an age, it finally burst through, with the stretched-out hole abruptly closing over the huge intrusion. He voiced a loud cry of pleasure, or pain, or some unholy mix of the two, and rose up from all fours to his knees, back arched and head thrown back. Every muscle on his body stood out in sharp relief, and, untouched, his cock erupted, splattering the bench--and the floor beyond--with strings of semen that filled the air with that singular bitter scent.

I very nearly followed him over the edge. I clamped down as hard as I could, trying to avoid blowing my own load at the sight. Beside me, Adam shuddered and snatched his hand away as if his bulge would burn him. Clearly, he was teetering on the precipice even more tenuously than I was. I dragged him toward the far door, babbling something incoherent over my shoulder at the panting performer.

"Thanks that was amazing great job you're incredible!" It all came out in a rush and he probably couldn't understand a word of it, but fortunately he didn't seem to be paying attention to me. His eyes were closed, one hand still working the toy around inside him, while the other squeezed and milked more seed from his dripping cock. His skin was flushed and gleaming with sweat. Fearing for my self-control, I had to stop watching and pushed Adam through the door, pulling it shut behind us.

"Holy shit," said Adam.

"Just breathe," I said, though I'm not sure if I was addressing him or me. "Think unsexy thoughts."

"Holy shit," Adam repeated. I had to admit that pretty well summed it up.

We actually just stayed there in the little hallway--this one was straight, not curved, and less than ten feet long--for a few minutes, trying to get control of ourselves. With our breathing returning to normal, and the damp spots on our pants noticeably larger, we marshalled our courage and approached the next door. Fortunately, we were distracted by the resumption of background music.

Ballsack resting in an open mouth,

Hard cock bouncing off your nose...

At least they were consistent. Chuckling, Adam and I stepped through the door, both hoping this next scene would be less intense. Spoiler alert: it wasn't.

Like the last room, this one was smaller than usual, which made sense. There were two platforms in here, though, not one. Placed on the sides of the room, so we'd have to walk between them to reach the far door, they were largely the same as the one in the last display--raised dais, large padded bench thing--but for one crucial difference: there were two men entwined on each one.

My gaze fell first on the left side, where one man, with glossy black hair and elaborate, colorful tattoos up his arms, was draped over the padded bench with his head hanging off the end. That made it easy for his companion, broad-shouldered and sun-bronzed, to slide his thick erection into his mouth and straight down his throat. Even as he did so, the tanned man lowered himself down over his partner and wrapped his lips around his pale, gracefully curved cock which stood proudly from a narrow patch of hair.

A moan from the other bench caught my attention, and I turned to see what the second pair was up to. These two were a study in contrasts; one was powerfully built and ebon-skinned, while the other was alabaster pale and had a dancer's slim but tightly muscled frame. They were on their sides, cocks already in each other's mouths, heads bobbing and hips thrusting. The pale man moaned again as his partner effortlessly swallowed the entire length of his shaft, taking it all the way to the reddish curls at its base before sliding back off, only to repeat the feat once more.

The redhead, apparently taking this as a personal challenge, stretched his jaw and--to my astonishment--slowly worked his throat down over the substantial girth of his partner's cock. It looked as thick as his slender neck, but he took it all, accompanied by a groan from his companion. By the time he reached the root, his face had flushed deep red from the effort, and his eyes watered from the strain, but he held it there for a long moment--presumably just to prove he could--before backing off of it until just the head remained in his mouth.

There was so much going on it was hard for me to watch it all at once. To the left, the pale man with the bright tattoos had pulled his mouth off of his partner's cock and was instead licking and sucking his balls, making the bronze god squirm. I turned back to the right to see the lithe redhead sending his tongue in a flickering dance across the head of that massive dark cock, eliciting a muffled curse from its owner.

"Oh, fuck!" The gasped words, the first clear ones I'd heard, pulled my attention back to the left side. The tanned man had removed the curved cock from his mouth and was doing all he could to brace himself on the bench, shuddering and struggling to stay in position, apparently due to the assault on his asshole by the tongue of his companion. He had those tattooed arms hooked over his partner's hips, holding the muscular globes of his ass apart enough to bury his face between them. From the rapturous expression on the tanned man's face, the tattooed guy knew what he was doing.

Sudden motion in the corner of my eye made me turn to the right again. The brawny black guy was standing, biceps bulging as he held his partner upside down in midair, somehow without either cock slipping free of their mouths. They continued to suck hungrily at each other, even as the redhead's face slowly flushed deeper and deeper red from being suspended like that.

I don't even know how long we were in there. My overwhelmed perception narrowed to a progression of seemingly disconnected vignettes, like slides in a montage. The tanned guy lying on the bench with his tattooed partner energetically fucking his face, that curved cock sliding down his throat with ease. The pale redhead squirming and moaning, his ass parked over the black guy's mouth. All four in sixty-nines again, sucking and licking and groaning with pleasure.

The redhead came first. He was on his back on the bench, limbs splayed out in all directions, writhing helplessly as his larger partner worked over his cock and balls. Big black hands pinned slender hips to the bench as he swallowed the whole length again and again, bobbing rapidly until every muscle in that lithe dancer's body went taut all at once. The black guy pulled his mouth away as, with a cry of "Oh, God! Fuck!" the first jet of semen launched into the air and splattered across the redhead's chiseled stomach.

Apparently that was the last straw, because almost immediately, another cry went up behind me. I turned to see the bronzed god spraying cum across his paler partner's face. I think he was aiming for his mouth, but it mostly ended up on his cheeks. Wiping it off, the tattooed guy used it as lube on his own cock, laying back on his bench and stroking himself furiously. It only took a moment--the tan guy hadn't even come back to reality yet--before he, too, was unloading across his stomach and chest.

While the tanned man leaned down and began licking the semen off his companion's cock and abs, triggering shivers and gasps, I glanced back to the right side to see the big black guy pumping his cock into the redhead's mouth at an increasingly frantic pace. A few more desperate thrusts, and it was done. He pulled his cock most of the way out of the redhead's mouth, leaving the head just sitting on his lower lip, and groaned a curse as a torrent of seed flooded over the redhead's tongue and filled his mouth, forcing him to swallow rapidly or risk overflowing.

Lost for words, Adam and I slowly moved to the exit door, leaving two sets of panting, sweaty, thoroughly satisfied men draped over their benches behind us. Once it closed, Adam sagged against the wall and spoke for the first time since we'd entered that room.

"I know I said it before," he said, "but HOLY SHIT that was crazy!"

I nodded. "Are they trying to inflict death by priapism on their customers, or what? I've never been so hard for so long in my life."

Adam grinned lasciviously. "As soon as we get out of here....Well. We're only, what, halfway done? I think there should be twelve rooms, that would make sense, right?"

I shrugged. "This is your show, not mine. But I'm not sure every stage got its own room. Some of those seemed like two at once."

"Good point," he replied, nodding. "There's only one way to find out, I guess." He turned toward our next destination. This hallway, unlike the last, was back to being a tight U-turn again, like before. We paused expectantly near the door itself, waiting to be assaulted by another twisted carol, but to my surprise there wasn't any. Silence greeted us as the door swung open.

Inside was another small room, like the last two, though it lacked a raised dais. In the middle of the floor sat one of those padded benches between two chaise lounges made of similar material. Three men sprawled indolently there, one on each seat, all naked, hard, and gorgeous. To the left was a Latino, all flashing dark eyes and lush black hair. He grinned as he saw us, a glint of white teeth against his copper complexion. Staring straight at Adam, who was closest to him, he gave his uncut erection a slow, teasing stroke up then down. I heard Adam swallow.

The right-side lounge chair was occupied by a darkly handsome man with the olive skin tones of the Mediterranean, with piercing hazel eyes and an intricate, tribal-style tattoo coiling around his left shoulder and chest. He did not smile, but he did give his cock a squeeze, milking out a single, pearlescent drop from the tip.

My attention was seized by the man in the center when he stood up from the bench, displaying six feet plus of chiseled muscle and unreasonably good looks. He looked like what you'd get if you asked central casting for one of the football captains on those YA dramas I certainly never watch. Wavy blond hair, jawline for days, bright blue eyes, it was a little ridiculous. Add the thick erection proudly leading the way, and I have to start using terms like "mouthwatering."

He smiled at us, and the blinding perfection stirred sudden recognition in me. "You were at the front door!" I blurted. "Ian, right?"

The grin widened. "That's me. I told you the experience would be memorable. Was I wrong?"

"Definitely not," said Adam fervently. "This I will not forget."

Something else popped into my mind, and like an idiot I blurted that out too. "If you're in here, who has our coats?"

Ian laughed, a rich, throaty chuckle that would have gotten me hard by itself if I hadn't been stiff as a board already. Completely unfair. "Don't worry, they're being looked after. Besides, as this is the last room, all you have to do to retrieve your belongings is walk through that door," he said, gesturing to the exit behind him.

"The last room?" Adam asked. "Shouldn't there be two or three more? To hit twelve, I mean."

The megawatt smile didn't waver. "Good guess, but not quite. This room is a bit of a special case, and will serve as the finale for the experience."

I raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean, special case?"

As if on cue, the other two men stood and joined Ian. Three hard cocks seemed to stare at us. Ian gave his a stroke, then looked back up at us and said, "This last performance is special because it involves audience participation."

By the time my brain parsed that sentence--wait, audience? Does that mean what I think it means?--the trio was already upon us. Circling like sharks, they closed in rapidly, a wall of chiseled muscle and flawless skin. Ian ran his hand up my body, sending goosebumps racing across my skin.

"Of course," he purred, "you don't have to participate. It's not like we're going to force you to do anything. Say the word, and off you go, no harm done." The dark, Mediterranean-looking one had sidled up behind me. I could feel his erection pressed against my hip as he leaned in to kiss my neck.

"Fuck that," said Adam, and he all but leapt onto the Latino.

Ian chuckled again as he started kissing the other side of my neck. "Can you handle Mr. McAllister by yourself for now, Nico? I think this one needs the extra attention."

The Latino guy--Nico, apparently--extracted his tongue from Adam's mouth long enough to say, "Yeah, I got this. Leo can help you get that one to loosen up."

"Oh, believe me," came a silken, lilting voice from my other side. "I intend to loosen up all kinds of things." Leo's voice, with its slight accent, was somehow even sexier than Ian's. This was getting absurd.

Ian pulled back enough to look me in the eye. "Sometimes, being a little bit naughty can be very nice indeed."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

Looking a bit sheepish, Ian said, "Sorry. We're contractually obligated to say that. The theme, and all." He shrugged.

Any response I could have made died when Leo's hands snaked around my waist and started undoing my belt. Ian was already halfway done unbuttoning my shirt--when had he done that?--and I gasped as Leo pushed my pants and underwear down. Finally, after all that time spent stifled, my cock leapt free of its confinement.

"Someone's eager," Leo chuckled. He wrapped one hand around my shaft as Ian pulled my shirt all the way off, leaving my naked body pressed between theirs. With the first squeeze from Leo...I came.

I couldn't help it. I'd been so turned on for so long, that when he took hold of my cock, I just popped like a teenager on prom night. Pleasure roared up my spine from my balls and exploded in my brain as my cock spewed out its payload. Most of it splattered across Ian's perfect abs, drawing a shocked exclamation from him.

"Shit!" said Leo. "I didn't think you were THAT eager."

"Too bad," said Ian. "Ending before we've even really gotten started."

"Who said anything about ending?" I growled, thrusting my hips and fucking Leo's hand, as I relished the last of the orgasm. "That look soft to you?"

"Kyle is always good for two or three loads," came Adam's moaning voice. I glanced over to see him, also naked now, sprawled back on one of the chaise lounges while Nico thoroughly sucked him. "It's half the reason I keep him around."

"Yeah, because he's the most insatiable bottom the world has ever seen," I retorted. "He's never happy with just one."

"Well," said Ian, that damnable smile returning. "I look forward to putting those claims to the test." He dropped to one knee, took my cock from Leo, and gently ran his tongue up the underside, collecting runaway semen and drawing a full-body shudder from my overly-sensitized body. When he reached the tip, he wrapped his lips around the head and applied gentle suction while he milked the last drops out with a squeeze up my shaft.

Leo, meanwhile, had shifted focus. He stepped up on the bench beside us, raising his beautiful, uncut cock almost level with my face. I took the hint, leaning over to slide my mouth along its length. The clean, slightly musky scent of highly aroused man is one of my favorite scents, and it rolled off him. I licked a drop of precum from the tip of his cock, making him shiver, then opened wide and swallowed him down my throat even as Ian did the same to me, the slick heat of his mouth sending pleasure tingling through me.