I Was a "Sex Magician," Getting My D*ck Sucked in Front of Diplo by Five Queers
Diplo isn't the only one who's gotten head from a guy before.
NSFW ILLUSTRATION BELOW! (DON’T SCROLL DOWN WITH YOUR BOSS BEHIND YOU.)
I wasn’t just thirsty. I was parched. Dehydrated. I wanted to suck every clit, deepthroat every dick, and devour every ass. There are so many beautiful people at music festivals; it’s overwhelming. Shirtless men in short-shorts with bulges galore. Women completely topless, wearing nothing but skimpy thongs. Everywhere I looked, there was someone beautiful, and I was letting each and every one of them know. I can’t tell you the number of people I started talking to, where within a minute of meeting, I said, “You are gorgeous. Do you want to make out?”
So I was making out with a lot of people at the Elements Festival in the Poconos, but that was only making me hornier. There were points I was walking around with a raging boner, and I had to conceal that thing before accidentally poking an eye out.
But then, on my last day, I fucked. At long last! Did my brother and sister-in-law accidentally walk into the RV when I was having sex? Yes, but luckily, my little man and I made it to the bathroom before they could see anything. “Is someone in the bathroom with you?” my brother asked. “Yeah,” I said, laughing.
“Alright, we’ll be back in 30 minutes. Have fun!”
The moment they left, we started back up again, and that three-day load shot out of me like a bat out of hell.
I picked him up because he was wearing a crop top that said “Super Gay,” and I was wearing my crop top that said “Bisexual And Still Not Into You.” I walked up to him and said we should be friends. He later told me he was surprised that I wanted to fuck because my shirt seemed so off-putting. He also mentioned that he thought I was straight—that one confused me.
But that isn’t even the main story. Sure, his ass was big, and his hole was tight, and I was harder than a Chevy Suburban—but what came after him—that’s where our story begins. Because somehow, even after having sex with this cute little pocket gay from the Midwest, I was still a horny mess. I was a greedy bisexual who wanted everything, and I got everything right in front of the stage as Diplo raged on.
I met Patch the evening before. He had that mix between unabashedly queer and punk. His face was heavily pierced and gauged. Black and white tattoos with thin, clean lines covered his body. Spiny goth platform boots that gave him an extra eight inches, making him substantially taller than me. Despite his more “intimidating” look, his smile was enormous, and his eyes were welcoming, and I desperately wanted to kiss him.
“Fuck, you look incredible,” I said, with a fat smile stapled to my face. “You do, too,” he said, his grin matching mine. I complimented his totem, a large flower he handcrafted and sprayed to smell like a real rose.
“I really want to kiss you, can I?” My forwardness was a welcome surprise. “Yes,” he replied. Patch’s lips were big, and we let our hands explore. Within seconds my hand was on his ass. He felt my hard dick pressed against him and grabbed it.
“Holy shit,” he said. “You are very hard.”
“I know!” I said. “We really should fuck.”
“Absolutely,” he replied, “But let’s wait for tomorrow when I’m ready, and my partner can join. I know you two will love each other.”
“I can’t wait.”
(Me, at Elements.)
The next evening, at Diplo, I saw Patch’s flower totem in the sky and sauntered over through the dense crowd.
The last night of a festival is always the wildest, and they were living their best damn lives. For the first time since the festival began, I wasn’t the thirstiest.
When Patch saw me, we didn’t say a word. We just began making out. Even though I had cum no less than an hour before, my dick wanted more. I pitched a tent in my track pants, and he felt it. This time, he went under my underwear, pulling them down. My dick was now exposed for all to see. He began jerking me off as we made out. It felt damn good.
“Come here, look at this,” he said, waving his friend to come over. His friend was also tatted and pierced. “Ohh,” he said, dropping his knees to the muddy ground.
“Oh, fu—” I couldn't even get the words out. Patch’s lips were back on mine as his friend ferociously sucked. He sucked like he was dick deprived—like this was the first dick he had sucked in ages. “This is my friend, Jangles,” he said. Jangles came up for air, smiled, and kissed me on the lips. I tasted my cock on his tongue. “We’re roommates,” Patch continued, and the two of them began making out, clearly having kissed many times before. Their tongues swished in unison as they petted each other’s faces.
My dick was still out, though not wholly. Even though Jangles pulled up my pants, half of my cock was pointing straight up past my waistband.
A friend of theirs, a messy queen, saw my dick half-exposed and grabbed it forcefully; he nearly ripped my pants off to take me in his mouth. He was a pro and was deepthroating, gagging himself on my dick. Patch and Jangles joined in on the fun, both bending over. One of them sucked my head, the other licked my base, and the other sucked my testicles.
I looked up from the three men beneath me and made eye contact with a friend of mine, V, who was no more than 10 feet away. I saw the point when he realized the man getting sucked by three dudes was, in fact, me, and he broke into laughter. I had to laugh, too. V is a new friend who only knows the Boyslut side of me—who’d only read the stories—and this confirmed everything he thought about me.
Illustration by ri.place
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to BOYSLUT to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.