Vignette: Shindig

I was invited to a backyard shindig by one of my neighbors. He's not a lifter, and usually I only associate with lifters but I decided to make an exception. I called up Lex and Mongo and we headed to the cookout.

MULE

LEX

MONGO

A scrawny ectomorph with a potbelly was manning the grill, cooking up some greasy double cheeseburgers. I was having none of that. "End of the line, cupcake" I told him. I took the toothpick out of my mouth and threw it into his face, Razor Ramon style. "We own this grill now." The ecto took one gander at the massive mountain of muscle that is Mule, and slunk off with his tail between his legs, with nary a word.

I knocked the greasy burgers over and reached into the cooler Mongo had brought, pulling out three steaks, each bigger than most of the quads of the partygoers. "Hey Mr. O'Sullivan," I said to my neighbor, "Looks like we got the protein we need for meal #6 of today, but I'm gonna need some high GI carbs as well. Why don't you run in the house and get me some potatoes. I know you got 'em in there, you Irish fuck." He looked horrified and said nothing. I took off my aviators and looked him in the eye as I flexed my right biceps. "Now."  It is amazing how compliant mere mortals are when confronted with an Alpha musclegod from Asgard.  I call the multitudes of mediocre males that surround me in daily life “Fetch-n- Carries”.  The weird thing is the more you order them about, the more they love you for it.

TYPICAL FETCH-N-CARRY

After wolfing down the potatoes and steak, along with a Mega Shake, I surveyed the situation, and it looked pretty grim. Then I saw her. A tall sexy brunette playing volleyball. "See something you like, Doc?"--Lex asked. "Yeah. Something real nice" I said, a cigar hanging out of my mouth.

I headed over to said brunette, flared my lats and rolled up for the approach.

Mule: Sup baby?

Brunette: Hey there!

Mule: Who are you here with?

Brunette: This is my dad's house!

Mule: You're Mr. O'Sullivan's daughter?

Brunette: That's right.

That Irish beta produced this HB 1O?  I was momentarily impressed.  Good on ya O'Sullivan, Good on ya! Must be some alpha genes in there somewhere in all that potato starch.

      IRISH ROSE

Mr. O'Sullivan came over at this point. "Mr. Mule, please leave my daughter alone, she's only 15 years old! Please!"

Please Mr. Mule, Please!

“Please what?” I barked with my best mean mug.

“Please S-S-S-SIR!” O'Sullivan stuttered.

“Kneel before Mule when you make a supplication.” I said with a smile, clearly enjoying myself.

Although I was only playin’ the fucker actually got down on both knees and said:

“Please Sir, Please leave my daughter be, she is only 15.”

How could I deny granting such a boon, to such a dutiful peon?  Noblesse Oblige … So I promised him, but about an hour his daughter approached again her eyes were drinking in the Mule, like an alcoholic looks at a bottle of gin.

 Bodybuilders: Women want us,
Fetch-n-Carries wanna BE us.

Brunette: This party is fuckin' lame! I wish there was some weed around here, or maybe some beer.

Mule: Well, cupcake, I just happen to have a six pack right here. (I lifted up my shirt and showed her my abs. She melted and immediately went down on me. I banged her twice in the shed, and she bled like a hemophiliac. "Like a Virgin" indeed.)

 Like a Virgin-fucked by Mule
 for the very first time

Mr. O'Sullivan came out to yell at Mongo, Lex, and I as we were preparing to leave.  The Irish Rose being so infatuated with me, that she was malleable clay, I had her take a turn with Lex and Mongo, sharing the fruits with my boys because Bros before Hoez, right? When I flash those dimples and my pearly whites, and lay on the southern charm like barbecue sauce, I can be mightily persuasive, and with hearts in her eyes, she was down with WHATEVER I was game to suggest.

"Sure, Mule!  ANYTHING for ♥♥♥YOU♥♥♥!"

She readily enjoyed all of us, and thanked each and every one of us with a kiss planted firmly on our lips.  Three bodybuilders to start the ball running, no wonder she was having as good a time as we were. This shindig was packed with a whole lot of experience and memories for that sweet young formerly ‘innocent’ lass.  Definitely a promising SITM: SLOOT IN THE MAKIN’.

Having each taken a turn with the Irish rose, we were ready to roll out of this venue.  As I stated, O'Sullivan came running up behind us waving his fists, beet red.  "You pricks! You promised!" I lowered my aviators and glared at him. Every ounce of manhood remaining in him drained instantly away under that imposing glare. "At least now you know to never again trust a bodybuilder."

He was spluttering meaningless babble until his testes descended again and he began talking about pressing charges. “Statutory rape” was the phrase he unfortunately made the mistake of uttering.  Mongo went over and threw him into his front door. Which flew open under the impact, although the door had an O'Sullivan shaped impact crater.  Lex, Mongo and I went in after him and we each took turns roughing him up a bit, until: with stars spinning around his head and bells ringing in his ears, he saw the wisdom of not pursuing the matter.  Than we had him suckling on each of our big bad schlong’s as his daughter watched, have to say for his first time, that bloated Irishman slurped like a champ.

Mule was up first, naturally!

"Me, next, Mule!!!"

Mongo batted clean-up and
 the way O'Sullivan was furiously gobbling and
 slobbering , he hit a home run!

The Brunette (didn’t catch her name) was impressed.  As her dad sat sobbing with cum around his mouth, his daughter was begging me to take her to prom.

"Mule, will you take me to the Prom?"

I could almost see little Mule’s and hearts circling her pretty li’l head. Then we each took a final rotation with the IRISH Rose while her Dad watched jealously-clearly now missing the studly trio. Now THAT is what I call a good shindig.

I lit up a cigar and crawled into my beamer. "Let's get some rest boys," I told Mongo and Lex. "Tomorrow is Back Day."

I'll be BACK DAY