The Game ... First Time Sex: Part 12 - Presents

(Part 1 from 2)

Please read chapters 1 - 11 in order to get absorbed into the plot up to this point in our adventures. Simply search on "The Game" to find the stories to read in chronological order. Chapters 1 - 6 have been revised but not posted. I am sorry that the better editions are not available on the website, so please overlook typos, logic errors, and tense mismatches in those stories. Thanks in advance for reading and leaving reviews. We just got back from the High Sierra Music Festival, and I can't wait to write about it, but this story is about 6 months prior to that. Enjoy.

After Tonya, Donna, Trish, and Donnie leave my house Monday night, Marcus stays all night with me. My parents are half way around the world on business, and we have the house to ourselves. It's about midnight, and instead of sliding across the floor in white underwear singing "Old Time Rock 'n Roll" like Tom Cruise in the movie Risky Business, we go to sleep. We are tired from the emotional roller coaster that we rode all day as well the physical fun we had with Donna, Tonya, Trish, and Donnie.

Each time the four of us get together, we have a fantastic time and tonight was even greater as we added two more people to our tight group. Donnie and Trish fit perfectly with us. We couldn't have dreamed of a better night for the six of us. It was especially nice since Marcus and I were playfully lead to believe that we wouldn't get to fuck Donna and Tonya until after Donnie left. Donna has a great way of teasing us just enough to create an elated feeling after she surprises us with one of her mind games. That feeling always leads to heightened arousal and fantastic sex.

It's like some couples fight in order to experience the thrill of "making up," and then they have wonderful sex afterward. I am glad we don't argue. I can't image any disagreement that would result in a fight between the four of us. Our track record speaks for itself. Donna uses her assertiveness and truthfulness to prevent misunderstandings before they arise. She is a true group leader.

I know I am learning about being open, truthful, and talking freely from her. Tonya and Marcus doing the same. Donna simply teases us with fear to heighten our erotic desires as she guides us. Although she has given us some scary moments, they always turn into euphoric sensations as reality unfolds. It's her game. It's the game. What I find is that life is just a game, but I love it all the same. Even if I die tonight, I love it with all my might. Those are my verses and the world according to me. Of course, everything is subject to change, but the game serves me well up to this point in our relationships.

So Marcus and I pee, brush our teeth, take a very quick shower to wash our dicks from the night's pleasures, and then go to sleep almost immediately. Almost? Marcus seems less exhausted than I am.

He asks me, "How do you like Trish?"

"What can I say. She looks like an Egyptian queen, and she really gets along well with Tonya and Donna," I answer.

"How do you like Donnie?" I probe back.

"He's great and nothing like I expected. It's like we all knew each other for years," Marcus says as he yawns.

"That's just what I think. Can you image if they lived near us?" I ask.

"With Trish around, I wouldn't have to worry about Donnie fucking Donna."

"I think that threat is settled," I laugh.

He adds, "Donna is perfect for me. I didn't get a hard on for Trish like you did."

"Oh Geezus. You know that I just like to look. I wouldn't trade Tonya for anyone, but it's just a habit I have since I first found out about fucking on the playground in the 2nd grade. I have this uncontrollable urge to look at girl's thighs and fantasize about licking my way up to their pussies," I explain.

"Well, your fantasy almost came true tonight. I think Trish wants your dick," he pushes.

"Go to sleep, and don't tempt me. I don't need any more material for my fantasies. I'm staying with Tonya for my dreams," I say as if I can control my subconscious thoughts when I'm asleep.

It is an uneventful sleep, and I don't remember any of my dreams when I awaken to the sound of Marcus peeing in my bathroom. Was it the previous day that exhausted me or was it the night because I usually wake up long before Marcus.

I'm barely conscious as Marcus opens the door says loudly, "Morning."

Marcus seems too eager to start the day.

I yawn, "Did I miss your morning hard on?"

Marcus had the advantage of being wide awake and is quick to respond, "Not sure. Does you butt feel sore this morning?"

Awakening a bit more I respond, "A real Jewish comedian your turning into. First time that dick touches any part of my body, and you will be sleeping on the floor."

"Breakfast time. It's about 10. Get your ass out of bed," Now I realize that Marcus is enjoying making me wake up to his loud voice.

"Damn," I say as I put a pillow over my head, but I have to get up to pee, so I can't lay in the bed any longer. As I turn over, I get a painful hard on.

"Now whose got the woody?" blasts Marcus.

"Ouch, fucking damn. Get out of my gawd damn way," I say as I head to the bathroom door. I do a contortion and manage to bend my dick toward the toilet and pee. He hurts like crap.

Marcus watches and laughs.

"Is this what you go through every morning?" I retaliate.

"Oh yeah right. Like it never happens to you. Just make sure you wash those hands before you make my breakfast," he says as he watches my painful peeing.

"Hey. I'm not your gawd damn maid," I say as I squeeze the last drip out and shake.

"Well, are we going to have blueberries again?" he laughs.

"No more cereal for breakfast. I feel like I'm eating dried grass when I eat shredded wheat. I'm cooking eggs and toast," I announce rebelliously.

Marcus continues to be uncharacteristically pushy, "Great. Let's go."

In the kitchen, I heat a pan on the stove and get a dozen eggs out of the refrigerator. Marcus puts four slices of bread in the toaster. I break several eggs and gooey crap gets all over my fingers and on the counter, but I manage to get most of it in a bowl.

"I want mine over hard," commands Marcus.

"I got your hard. You're getting 'em scrambled you little prick," I say.

Hell, I wasn't teasing. I don't know over hard, over soft, poached or any other way except scrambled. Anyway, scrambled I understand. How difficult can this be anyway?

I drop the eggs into the pan and they sizzle.

"Dang, turn down the heat," orders Marcus.

"Ok, Ok, Emeril," I answer and sit down to eat the toast that just popped up. (Emeril is a popular TV chef in the U.S. for those unfamiliar with him.) Marcus demonstrates proper manners and puts butter on his plate using another knife to spread it on his toast and then does the same with the jam. I just put jam on mine and eat one piece.

Marcus pours us some iced tea from the refrigerator and says, "What about the eggs?"

"They're cooking," I respond.

"Well, I think they are done," says Marcus looking toward the stove.

"OK. Ok. Geezus," I say as I put my toast down.

After I take the pan off the fire hurriedly and take a turner to try to remove the eggs. They're stuck. I scrape the pan, and they fall into my plate leaving a crust of junk behind.

"Fuuuck. What the hell is that," laughs Marcus.

"You want blueberries?" I snap back playfully.

"Holy shit. You never made eggs?" asks Marcus.

"Well. No," I admit. "Have you?"

"No, but I know something is wrong," he laughs. "It's like sucking pussy the first time. You get the hang of it."

"Real wise guy this morning aren't we? Sucking pussy is easier than cooking eggs," I say noticing that Marcus is talking with analogies like me.

Well the eggs aren't so bad, but the mess they leave in the skillet is. I put the pan in the sink and run water into it.

"No more cooking for you," laughs Marcus.

"I'm not fucking Martha Stewart," I say defensively.

"Martha Stewart doesn't fuck much," adds Marcus. "And if still she fucks, she probably ties a ribbon on the guy's dick and there will be no wrinkles on the sheets afterwards."

"Really, really funny guy this morning, aren't you? Tell me about fucking older women," I laugh.

"Hey. I got what she wants," he scolds me playfully referring to Donna, of course.

So much for my foray in the kitchen. I call Tonya, but have to stop talking when my dad calls to see if the house is still standing. I tell him Marcus is staying with me all week. He knows that already and is ok with it.

"Your mother and I will be away longer than expected. I have been asked to stay for the PC Expo trade show on December 24 and 25," he explains.

Christmas isn't a national holiday in India, of course. His company wants him to help out because a team member is ill and didn't make the trip. This show really doesn't need his computer expertise because it's mainly for retail equipment sales.

"So we'll open presents when you guys get back." I predict.

"Yes. And we'll make sure to bring you back something nice from India," Dad says apologetically.

Well, my father's dad is from India, but he and my mom get into the holiday spirit because everyone celebrates Christmas on both sides of my family regardless of their religious backgrounds. I appreciate the spirituality of the Indian culture, and understand the traditions of my mom's background too, but I am too grounded in reality to think much about the supernatural, but the holidays are great.

I kid Marcus that it takes two sets of religious holidays in my house to equal the number of the holidays that he gets to celebrate. Damn, every other week there is something to celebrate if you are a Jew. Donna's mom was Jewish too, but her dad didn't continue that tradition after she died. We are a funny group with so many fucking backgrounds. I figure that whoever gets to heaven first can put a good word in for the rest of us to enter. I mean, who wants to be anywhere without your friends? It's like winning the lottery and not sharing it with your friends. It would be selfish and lonely. In the meantime, I don't need promises of bliss to focus my soul. I experience heaven every time I'm with Tonya, and I am working hard to make it last forever.

So much for our diverse cultural backgrounds. The way I see it, people in the world would all get along if they would just get together with their dicks and pussies the way we do. We all have dicks and pussies, and it's the one common denominator that would get us all together. All wars would stop. We should be fucking each other instead of trying to screw each other. It's a perfect fit, literally.

It all seems so simple, so how the hell did everyone get so far apart? I mean, after Adam and Eve got thrown out of the Garden of Eden for fucking, it would seem that everyone would stick together since we gave up utopia to fuck, but hell no, everyone fights about shit instead of just fucking each other. Look, if everyone thought like me, then when someone says, "Fuck you," it would be an invitation, not a threat. Oh well, so much for my solution to the world's conflicts. I'll do my part to fucking get along or to get along by fucking or whatever.

After I finish talking with my dad I tell Marcus, "dad and mom aren't coming back until after Christmas! I got the house until next week sometime."

"Fuuuck. Nice. I hope you learn to cook," he says.

"I'm eating at your house. Your mom's a great cook."

"You're welcome to come over if you don't look at my sisters," he warns playfully.

"Hey, they are in the market. I get to look," I laugh.

"Not at my sisters," he cautions.

"They're probably fucking themselves to death every night anyway," I say.

"Stop. That's my sisters you're talking about," he starts to get concerned.

"Oh. Not so funny now? You guys goad me about my mom in my dream, now you know how it feels," I laugh.

"Touché," says Marcus.

"Truce," I say.

"Truce," he repeats.

"Maybe just one look," I tease.

"You'll starve. You're not coming to my house," he threatens.

I've eaten at Marcus' house before, and I know I'm welcome, but as I explained before, Marcus enjoys the freedom at my house, so we usually end up here.

Marcus asks, "By the way, how are you going to replace the beer we drank last night?"

"Oh fuck. I got caught up in the moment and hadn't considered that," I ponder.

"Ok, what would Donna do?" he asks amused at my plight.

"Tell the truth. We drank a beer a piece. No big problem," I say.

"Well, your mom and dad are cool, so it should be OK. It's not like we cleaned out all of the liquor in the bar," he says.

After a couple of hours, Marcus humors his parents and returns home for a while. The maid service arrives after lunch to clean the house, and my dad arranged for the cleaners to pick up my laundry prior to leaving last week, but I don't send my underwear with my other clothes. Geezus, I can throw that in the washer downstairs. From what remains of my clean clothes from the past week, I will choose something simple to wear tonight.

I call Marcus around 5 p.m., "You gonna shower over here?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way now," he answers.

"I'm getting in the shower now. I'll leave the door unlocked. Just let yourself in when you get here," I say.

I hear the doorbell ring multiple times and hurriedly jump out of the shower. By the time I react and get a towel around me, Marcus is in my room.

"Was that you?" I ask.

"Yes. Just wanted to make sure you were out of the shower so I can get in," he laughs.

"Gawd damn. As I said, you're a real fucking comedian today," I acted annoyed as I drip water on the floor, but it is a funny little prank. I plan my revenge for later as I add, "Paybacks are hell."

Marcus heads for the shower, and I go downstairs and fill a pitcher with ice cold water. I creep into my bathroom, reach over the shower the shower stall, and pour the freezing cold water over his naked body.

"Fuuck, holy shit. Fuck you," he screams.

"That's for waking me up this morning and making me get out of the shower to answer the door and getting water all over the floor," I explain hoping that we are even now.

"This isn't over," he says.

We are not into horseplay, but this was sweat revenge. I'm hoping it's over, but Marcus is getting pretty bold and assertive lately. Only the future will tell.

We go through our ritual preparations. All body crevices are powdered, unscented deodorant applied, drop of cologne is placed behind each ear and above our dicks, teeth are brushed, and mouthwash is used. We are prepared as much as gladiators advancing to the Coliseum in Rome. We have all of our weapons polished and prepped for the game. We are now ready to don our armor.

Marcus puts on Nudie slim jim jeans and black, long sleeve Nike TW Dri-FIT Drop-Needle shirt with medium gray-white Nike Ruckus mid-top sneakers. I put on my Ralston Indigo Jeans and Maroon Love Moschino Tee shirt. I'm going to wear Kenneth Cole ankle boots as a change from sneakers. Marcus and I won't look like the gawd damn Bobbsey twins wearing similar sneakers tonight.

"New shoes?" I ask as he takes them from his duffle bag.

"Yeah. Got them today. Mom took me to the mall. I got a size larger this time," he says.

The little fucker is growing. It won't be long before his dick is longer than mine. He looks sharp this evening for sure, but I won't compliment him too much because it is condescending. His taste is as good as mine, and he has access to the internet and mall just like me, so I won't push his buttons anymore about his clothes. Oh, what the hell. One more teasing won't hurt his ego.

I can't resist the jab, "No buttons on the fly? Am I teaching you nothing?"

I am expecting his normal, defensive reply, and he doesn't disappoint me.

"Fuuuck you. These pants come off just as fast as yours, and I'm not sticking by gawd damn dick through the zipper tonight anyway. These will be history," he says in his defense.

I laugh, "Nothing's gonna stop Donna from tearing into you tonight."

Donna calls and says they are on the way. I order a couple of pizzas. The delivery guys leaves just before Donna pulls into the drive.

As we assemble in the foyer, Donna, Tonya, and Trish have presents in their hands.

"You can put those under the tree, and lets go into the kitchen and eat," I say.

After eating pizza, we all brush our teeth and meet in the basement to open presents.

"Wow there are a lot of gifts," says Donnie.

"Where do we start?" I ask.

Trish says, "Donnie and I want you to open the presents that we have for you last."

Donna says, "OK, then here goes. This is from Tonya, Trish, and me," as she hands Donnie, Marcus, and me three identical presents.

We open them and see three different types of massage oils. I get Aloe and Arnica, Donnie gets an almond-rice bran-coconut blend, and Marcus has Desert Essence Organic Jojoba Oil.

"I love the shop that we bought those," says Tonya. The girls had spent the day shopping.

True to form, Marcus naively asks, "Oil?"

Donnie is closest to him and whispers in his ear. We all laugh.

Donna says, "Oil is for the engine and all moving parts that may cause friction."

"Ok. Ok. I get it. I'm not that stupid," says Marcus as we continue laughing.

"We'll use it later," promises Donna as she hugs him from behind.

"We have another set of presents for the guys," says Tonya.

"Trish, Tonya, and I searched and found these. Go into the laundry room and open them. You guys have to model them," Donna hands us each a gift.

Okay. No surprise here. It has to be underwear. We open the packages.

"Holy shit," says Marcus.

"I won't wear these in the barracks," says Donnie.

We see Pulse Mesh Sock underwear. So much for getting dressed for the girls. We all strip and put on the briefs. These really outline your dick and balls. Outline? Fuck, they are see through. No one has to imagine what's underneath because you can see your dick plainly. Well, they aren't soft, but I manage. We parade in front of the girls who clap for us. I get the first signs of a hard on which makes these a little tight.

"I feel like a Chippendale," says Donnie.

I look at Marcus, "Male dancers that strip for women." Marcus nods.

"Well, Marcus and I didn't know that we would be spending time with Trish and Donnie, so we only got presents for Donna and Tonya," I explain.

Trish laughs and keeps it from being awkward, "It's Ok. We are having a great time hanging out with you guys, really."

That made me feel good as Marcus handed his present to Donna, and I gave mine to Tonya.

They open them together, and Tonya yells, "Web cams!"

"Right out of your dream," Donna says to me.

Donnie says, "We do live shots too. We've been sending each other live shots below the waist for a while when I can get to my phone. Most of the time, phones are off limits."

Donna says, "I'll only use mine if nothing can be recorded."

Donna made us swear to secrecy a long time ago about what we all did together, so this isn't surprising to bring up now. If any pictures get out, they will always be accessible on the web. It's good to be cautious and a great lesson from Donna.

"No worry. It will be good seeing you guys during the week days," I say.

"Not a bad present at all," laughs Donna. "I think see you guys on a larger screen than the phone is going to be very nice."

"I can't wait," says Tonya as she hugs me.

Trish says, "Drum roll. Donnie and I have something special for each couple for tonight."

As we open the presents, I thinking what the devil, but hold off until I figure this one out.

Marcus says, "Finger paints?"

Trish laughs, "In a way. Edible body paint."

"Alright!" I am excited.

"Dessert," says Marcus as everyone laughs.

Trish explains, "First we watch Youtube videos of body painting. Then we group up like last night to paint each other."

"OK. Everyone to my computer," I say as we all go upstairs to my bedroom. It's a little chilly, so we guys put their pants over our thongs.

After we all get to my bedroom, Donna laughs and says to Trish, "This bed is historic."

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