*****It was the middle of the Sunday morning when I woke to the sound of Seth saying,“Come you lazy bastard, get your smelly arse out of bed.”“I...don’t smell do I?”“Yes, stale beer.”“Oh, I guess that I should have showered when I got home last night, I did get a few drinks spilt on me” “So how did it go last night? Lot’s of city guys perving over you and trying to grope you?”“How did you know, you weren’t there Seth?”“I’m a man, that’s what men do.”“Yes it is, you could have come and seen them. Not in a strange way, but even though he held over two dozen patents of various cybernetic devices, he was decidedly old-fashioned. He eschewed optic or audio implants. He drove his own car. There was no droud implanted behind his ear that let him interface directly with a computer. He did it with voice-activation, a keyboard and sometimes hand-mounted pointers. Campbell even wore eyeglasses.The company indulged his eccentricities and paid his outrageous fees because he needed their resources. Our friend was also getting very turned on and I noticed him drop his pants and pull out his cock. Oh my god…he had an awesome cock. It was and inch or two longer than mine and thick..When my wife noticed I know she liked it as well because her eyes got huge and she licked her lips very seductively. Soon all inhibitions were gone as my wife was nearing her second orgasm. She reached out and starting stroking our friends cock. He moved closer to her and soon she was stoking him with a nice fast. And the guys were forbidden to apply pressure to our head or touch any of our body parts. So basically, we sucked on 3 guys at a time for one minute before moving to the next and hence the one that we had been sucking got 1 minute rest…and we moved along the circle…sucking each guy in turn. From the girls side…points were given to the one who got the first pop…and the one who got the most pops. Guys who came most were awarded points…and the last one to cum also got points. Forfeiting the game.
Read MoreThe feelings he’d had all morning—of remorse for missed conversations, of regret over poorly planned actions—hit again as he glanced up at the b
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