Unorthodox Methods Pt. 01

Author's Note: Please read Unorthodox Methods parts 2 and 3 to enjoy the full scene!

*****

"What about a gangbang?" I imagined this was the first time those words had been spoken in this doctor's office.

Matt and I were trying to have a kid. This hadn't seemed like such an absurd idea a year ago, when we made the decision to ditch the condoms and I began the long process of weaning myself off of hormone treatments and tracking my menstrual cycle again and doing all the uncomfortable things I hoped would be worth it when I could hold our child in our arms. When I started my medical transition, I knew it would have a negative impact on my fertility, but I remained hopeful that I could figure something out. Because I dreamed of becoming a father, I went through top surgery and hormone therapy like the other trans men I knew, but I never had my uterus removed and I was never too upset when my hormones were imbalanced and I got my period again. "Well," I always told myself, "At least it means I could still be fertile," and proceeded to have my blood drawn and tested, dosage readjusted to help my body further approach my identity.

Now, things weren't looking so easy. Matt and I had been married for three years and we both wanted to raise a child. We began with a lot of romantic faith in our own fertility, but soon realized that him cumming inside me wasn't all it was going to take. By this point, I was sick of needles, blood tests, and vitamins, and almost ready to give up the charge entirely and begin the equally strenuous process for adoption.

"What do you mean 'What about a gangbang?' What about one?" Matt could see I was frustrated and laughed gently, placing his hand on my knee.

"I mean," his fingertips massaged my knee gently, "If we schedule it right, and there's more cum to go around...maybe there would be a higher chance of pregnancy."

"I didn't realize you were an obstetrician."

"I didn't realize you were a prude." I met his eyes, and he smiled. Matt was so pretty he could get away with anything, and he knew this. "Besides," he continued, "You know it would be hot, and I'm sure there are plenty of men who'd love to cum inside you." His hands were wandering closer to my crotch, tracing gently over my inner thighs as he spoke. I wondered when the doctor would return, but didn't stop him. "And I'd love to have your sloppy seconds."

"How many guys should we find?"

"How many could you handle?" At that instant, the doctor burst into the exam room, but not before Matt and I shared a meaningful look. We were going to have a gangbang, and he was going to plan it.

That's how I found myself where I was- sitting in our bedroom, talking with Matt again. After a day of feverish cleaning and arranging and outfit-planning we were both drinking wine, and we clinked the glasses together to celebrate the start of the evening.

"When are they coming?" I asked, anxiously arranging the loose threads on the edge of a blanket.

"6." It was 5:58.

"Oh god."

"Don't worry," Matt rubbed my shoulders, "I'll be there the whole time to kick them all out if anything goes wrong." After that, he thankfully turned the conversation to a more casual topic. My last few minutes before the first arrival were spent talking about work and laughing gently, like we often did at the end of the day.

The party was fun. I spent a lot of it scanning the room, trying to determine who of my suitors would be the most dangerous, who would turn me on the most, who probably had the nicest dick. Matt showed me off like a prized pig, and as abruptly as it had begun, we were moving to the bedroom. Matt and I entered the room first, followed by a stream of what must have been almost 30 other men. I sat at the foot of the bed, and watched our guests arrange themselves around the room. Some shifted nervously while others carried on a quiet conversation while still others stood crowded around the bed, watching my every move with hungry eyes. Throughout the room, there was a sense of desperate anticipation for what we all knew was about to go down.

It started with one. An attractive man, younger than anyone I had been with in a while, approached the bed slowly and pushed some hair from my forehead, his eyes flicking nervously from Matt's to my own like he was asking for permission. "Hey baby," I greeted him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. I trusted Matt's choice of party guests, but I still had to ask, "How old are you?"

"19." Already, another pair of hands were unbuttoning my shirt, and I let the smooth fabric slide off of my shoulders but kept my focus on this boy. He smelled like sweat and licked his lips with the clumsy, expectant horniness of someone his age. His nervousness was charming, and I wound my fingers through his thick black hair to bring our lips together. I let his tongue push sloppily into my mouth, putting one arm down, then the other, so the hands behind me could remove my shirt completely. The boy's tongue was firm and slender, and there was a sense of competition in the way I would bite his lip gently and he would respond by biting my own. Meanwhile, I felt fingers massaging my shoulders and arms, caressing my stomach, lips pressing against my nipples and hot breath on the back of my neck.

I pulled back from kissing the boy, luxuriated for a moment in the sight of his wet, pink lips and disappointed expression, and let myself fall onto my back. The hands behind me guided my journey to a reclining position and continued exploring my torso. There was a symphony of belts unbuckling and zippers coming undone around me, and the pressure of the hands on my body was building into a frenzy. I looked down at the set of hands which were now fumbling with my belt and smiled. The boy from earlier was now tugging my pants down, a man on either side of him watching with their cocks already grasped in their hands. I felt like the only steady point in a sea of men and breath and flesh, and their combined attention rushed to my head.

I gestured to the 19 year-old, "Are you good at eating pussy?" He smiled, kneeled at the foot of the bed, and brought his lips to my vagina. He was great at eating pussy. His tongue circled my clit, he pressed his lips against my labia, and I let a moan pour from my throat unrestricted. As the 19-year old sucked gently on my clit, I felt one slender finger press slowly into my hole. This, combined with the sensation of one anonymous mouth sucking a bruise onto the pale skin of my hip, was enough to make my breathing speed and walls clench.

Looking down, I saw the slight curve of a smile in the 19 year old's eyes. He noticed my eye contact, and responded by pressing his tongue flat against my clitoris and I groaned, "Oh my god." While I haven't had bottom surgery, hormone therapy has lead to my clitoris becoming large in size and far more sensitive than it had once been, and I loved the feeling of strong pressure against it. My expression of arousal clearly gave the second man a burst of confidence as he slid another finger into my vagina. In any other scenario this second man would have only been average in appearance, but the way he looked at me like some kind of ravenous animal erased any judgement from my mind. His fingers crooked inside of me and I twisted, thrusting my hips forward in search of more sensation. For a moment, I caught sight of Matt standing across the room, watching smugly as my skin flushed and was bitten, grabbed, licked, and caressed by an uncountable number of hands and mouths.

With a smile, I uttered the words "Who wants to fuck me first?" and watched chaos erupt around me.