048 surprise party

The Surprise Party
Part 1 of 3

This is quite an exciting photo, but it's not what you think. Let me explain from the beginning.
My name is Jerry, and I was talking to my good friend, Travis, and …

"Hey Travis, all ready for tonight?" I asked over the phone, knowing his answer would be a "yes."

"Well … actually … I think I need to cancel. You know, I just moved into this new apartment a few weeks ago and still can't find anything, let alone a costume to wear. I'm still getting organized," he said.

"Whoa there, Travis, we talked about this, right? It's just a simple costume party. I know it's not your thing. I know I'm twisting your arm, but you did agree to go. I keep telling you it's not a big deal … and everyone will be disappointed if you don't show up, especially since I already told them you were excited to go."

"But Jerry, I didn't even come up with a stupid costume … and … it's not even Halloween … you know I'm shy … how can I … can't I just go without a fucking costume?"

"Look. It's no big deal, OK? I told you it's a surprise anniversary party for Robert and Bob. Everyone will wear something goofy. It's all a big joke. It'll be great. We'll all be good sports and show up at their place exactly at 9 p.m., walk in unannounced, and yell 'surprise!'" Hearing only silence over the phone, I got a little too excited, "You're not gonna wimp out on me now, buddy. Besides, you don't have to do anything. I'll bring over a costume, drive you to Robert and Bob's, hang together at the party for an hour, and then drive you home."

"You said Andy was coming with us? Is he gonna dress up too? What's he gonna wear?"

"Of course, I told you he's coming. I know you like him a lot, and we can give you a little moral support. OK? It'll be fun. And it's just for an hour or so."

"Well … Jerry … what's everyone gonna be wearing? I have some old clothes; if I go, maybe I can go as a hobo or something."

"A hobo is an idea is great. So that's an option. Andy said he'd bring over a few things for all of us since he has access to costumes where he works. He mentioned doing some face painting on us, but don't worry, that stuff washes off easily. So … that settles it, we are all going, dressed up, and Andy will bring over some stuff for us to try on. OK?"

Travis was hesitating still, not really making a commitment. The party had been planned a month ago, and I thought Travis had already agreed to participate, but now he seemed very unsure. I wanted a firm commitment from Travis because everyone was expecting him to be present. And without Travis, it would not be much of a party, at least not the party our group of friends had planned. No, Travis has to participate, or I'll have to call the whole thing off.

"All right, Travis … here's the deal. Andy will be at the party, at your side, as I will, so you can make little goo-goo eyes at him all night long. OK? And he'll bring over whatever stuff from the movie studio he wants us to try on. OK? AND you and I will each allow him to dress us up as he thinks works best. So … he might want to make me the silly-looking one, and I already agree. OK?"

"But Jerry, what if I feel uncomfortable about the face-painting thing or the costume or …"

"OK, listen to me. I'm your best bud, and I swear that after Andy dresses you up, we won't go to Robert and Bob's if you feel weird about your outfit. You hear me, Travis? We won't even leave your apartment at all. OK? So you have absolute control over whether we go anywhere or not. But … and this is only fair to Andy, we must let him do his creative thing. We can't argue with him. Then, when you are all dressed up, if you feel foolish, we'll all stay here and have a drink and a good laugh. OK? Deal?"

Then, finally, Travis spoke that one magic word, "Deal." I grinned broadly, a big devilish grin, knowing that Travis had made a serious commitment this time. Luckily, it was a phone call, and Travis did not pick up on my wicked scheming. "OK then, we'll need to be all ready and leave your place by eight. I did talk Andy into coming over to your place early, like four, so he would not be rushed, and … just for you, Travis … I arranged this earlier time to give you a lot of chit-chat opportunities with Andy. Who knows, maybe you two will click. Oh, one last thing, Andy likes screwdrivers, you know, orange juice and vodka, so go out and get both of those. Andy and I will get to your place at four, have a few cocktails, and mellow out a bit."

"Thanks, Jerry. I appreciate that. You're a real pal. Yes, I would like to get to know him better. I don't drink much. What kind of vodka should I get? Should I make the drinks a little on the strong side … I mean … for Andy?"

I told him to get any of the better brands, play it all by ear, and relax. "If I mix any drinks for you guys, I'll make yours weak and his strong, so he'll loosen up a bit." I reinforced the need that he not blow it by being critical of, or resistant to, Andy's creativity. "Remember, if you are unsatisfied with the result, we won't leave your apartment. You have my word on that."

I arrived at Travis's place at four, gave him a bear-hug greeting, and rolled my eyes around the room, "Hey, my man, this new place of yours is sure a nice improvement. I'll bet you are enjoying it," I told him. Travis looked excited, but it was not because we were going to the party. It was because Andy was joining us; Travis was interested in getting to know him better. Just then, the doorbell rang, and I opened it to let Andy in. He was carrying a medium-sized cardboard box and a large black plastic bag, presumably with costumes.

"Hey, hey. How are you guys?" Andy almost shouted as he displayed a nice smile and, turning away from Travis, gave me a wink. What better way to signal his readiness as if to say, "OK, let the games begin." We all sat and relaxed, and then Andy asked me, "Didn't you promise me a cocktail? The traffic was a bitch. My hands are still shaking. Get me a drink … damn it!" He laughed.

"Coming right up." I went into Travis' kitchen, found the juice, ice, and vodka, and mixed us all drinks, making one stronger than the other two. "Here we go, guys," and I passed them out, handing Travis the stronger one as I snuck him a quick nod to signal that Andy had the stronger drink. It was so cool. Travis thought he and I were working together to mellow out Andy. But in reality, Andy and I had formulated a scheme to put over on Travis, which was starting off flawlessly.

After a lot of friendly chatting and a couple of drinks each, I stood up, "OK, Andy, what do you have for me to wear. I'll go first."

"Well," Andy spoke up, "doesn’t it make sense that Travis goes first since your agreement, which I also promise to keep, is that if he doesn’t like his outfit, we won’t be going to the party. And that’s fair. So, we first need to see how Travis feels when I complete his costume before we do ours. Right?”

God, Andy was great. He spoke as if he had just now thought about that and did not indicate that Travis going first was a critical part of our plan. Travis felt good about that because it reinforced the fact that going to the party was his call. This made him very OK and relaxed, and the cocktails he had didn’t hurt his comfort either.

“Travis, I will start with some designs on your face. Better remove your shirt; this can get a little messy. I’ll mix the paints into the bathroom with water so I don’t make a mess in this room.” And off Andy went with his box full of whatever. Travis removed his shirt and exposed his mighty fine chest. Travis asked me what he had in mind, and I told him I hadn’t a clue.

“Hey, how about this, Travis? As Andy is making designs on your face, I’ll casually suggest that putting a few designs on your chest would be neat. I mean, even if they will be covered up by your costume, it would feel great to have Andy’s hand touching and brushing your chest, wouldn’t it?” Travis gave a blushing smile. He was in no way drunk; I did not want that. But he was certainly in a cheery, agreeable mood. I continued my little setup plot, “Wouldn’t that be a nice tickling, erotic feeling to have a fine-looking guy like Andy focusing on your nipples and painting designs and stuff? Wow, you lucky dog, you. I’ll bet you were thinking the same thing. But I’ll keep my mouth shut because I don’t want to embarrass you, buddy.”

“Well, Jerry, if you think it would look good …” His voice trailed off into a wide-eyed stare as if he was fantasizing. “I mean … well … yes … I’m OK with that. You could suggest that if you want.” I grinned and made a face as if to ask, “Are you sure?” Travis changed his look to a kind of intense pleading face like a little kid wanting an ice cream cone. “Ah … would you? … Jerry? … Please just make the suggestion. I’m OK with it, really.” I told him he was my buddy and, for him, I’d mention it at the right time.

Andy returned from the bathroom carrying a dish of blue paint. “OK, sit up and hold still. I’m not sure what I want for you. I was thinking of the Blue Man-guys sort of thing, but let me explore and get this background color on you.” Travis nodded, and Andy began coating his face with a blue color, not an artist’s brush, but a sponge. It did not take long to cover his entire face and all around his neck. “Hmm, that’s not bad. Let’s go a little more with this Blue Man theme. I think your shirt will be open a couple of buttons, so let’s do a little more below the front of your neck.” And without waiting for, or wanting, any response from Travis, he brought the blue color down a bit more.

“Andy, what if, instead of just copying the Blue Man theme … what if we did his entire upper body in blue, in case he wants to go shirtless later on. That’ll be different,” I told him and secretly winked at Travis to let him believe I was only making this suggestion to Andy at his pleading request. Yeah, right! My buddy had no idea that Andy and I had figured this all out a month ago, and he was falling for it all. He was actually thinking I was helping him get touchy-feely with Andy. Oh god, this is going to be easier than I thought.

Andy immediately did as “I suggested,” or should I say as “we planned,” covering Travis’ entire torso. “Oops, Andy, you missed a few spots around his nipples.” I pointed out. Travis looked at me sheepishly as he assumed he had directed me to tell Andy that. As Andy continued to blue him up, I entered the kitchen to mix another drink for Travis. I also quickly snatched the shirt he just took off and brought it with me. I just tossed the shirt in a kitchen cabinet. Travis doesn’t know this, but he won’t need that shirt anymore tonight.

I mixed the drinks, putting almost no liquor in Andy’s or mine and only the regular amount in Travis’; I wanted my buddy to continue to feel as good as he was now but not really intoxicated. However, I did pull out a foil package of Viagra tablets from my pocket, popped one out, smashed it, and mixed it in Travis’ drink.

When I returned with the small tray of drinks, Travis was standing, and Andy was painting his lower back in the same blue color. I handed Travis both drinks, his and Andy’s, telling him to hold Andy’s until he stopped painting. I wanted both his hands to be occupied; with both glasses intentionally filled to the brim, Travis was completely focused on holding those glasses very steady. It was our way of misdirecting his attention. Just as I set the empty tray down, right on cue, Andy made an abrupt outburst. “Oh, shit. Damn it! Look at that. I got paint on the back of your jeans. Sorry, Travis.” Then turning to me, he added, “Jerry, help me get these pants off him quickly; this paint will wash off easily if we do it right away.”

Travis was moving his hands as if to find a place to set down the full glasses so he could go to his bedroom and change into other pants. But we acted too fast. I had already undone his belt and had started on the zipper. “Oops … I forgot. … Andy, I need to get his shoes off first. Help him balance so he doesn’t spill anything.” How distracted Travis must have been not to figure out that we could have just taken the drinks from him and let him go and change himself. But the alcohol he had consumed was just enough to create confusion and to cause him to follow our direction instead of questioning us.

I stooped down to undo his shoelaces, and as I did, I said to him, “Better sip up some of your drink before you spill it on my head.” It was my way of keeping him focused on the drinks he was carefully holding as we began to strip him. He took large gulps from the glass that I indicated was his. Andy smiled down at me as he held onto Travis’ jean-covered hips, careful not to get paint on himself. It was obvious Andy was feeling good about our little episode of dramatic acting. “OK, Travis, lift up your foot.” When he did, I slipped his tennis shoe off. “OK, now the other foot.” And again, that shoe slipped off.

Travis finally spoke up, staring at the two drinks he was still holding, and balanced on one foot, “Guys, guys … if you … just let me … ah … Jerry …I can ...”

“Travis,” I said in a fake huff, “Please, just don’t spill this all over your beautiful carpet. Just stay still so I can get your socks off. You’re going to mess up Andy’s paint job. We got you. We’ll take care of this, buddy.” And I pulled his jeans down, past his knees, and off one leg and then the other, making sure I took his socks off in the process. “I’ll get these pants under cold water in the kitchen and let them soak.”

“But, Jerry, my socks aren’t … why did … can you take …’” Poor Travis was having trouble making a complete sentence. I smiled and calmed him down by telling him to hush and not to worry about his pants, that I would immediately soak them in cold water. I hurried into the kitchen, tossed his pants and socks into the same cabinet as his shirt, and returned quickly, not wanting Travis to have time to do any independent thinking.

There stood Travis, wearing white jockey underwear and only underwear. To distract him from asking for a clean pair of pants, I asked Andy, “I know he is going to be wearing pants or shorts or something, but can’t we make most of his legs blue too, so if he does wear shorts, his legs will show all blue?” Andy started in without waiting for more discussion, painting a wide band of blue around Travis’ knees. At least now, there was a reason that he could not just slip on pants, or he’d smear that paint.

“There’s a robe over the sofa there. May I have that, please?” Travis said in a little-boy voice. Shit! I uttered to myself. I didn’t notice that there before. There was both a white robe and a towel there. He must have used those when he got out of the shower. So, being his friend, I retrieved it for him to wear, knowing Andy would interrupt me.

“No, no, no … You want to ruin what I am doing? And fuck up the robe besides? Travis, you’re fine; let me finish up quickly, and then we’ll get your costume on you. But the paint has to dry first. OK?” Travis settled down when he realized he sounded ungrateful and unappreciative of Andy's effort in his body art. He just gave Andy a whispered but sincere apology and let him continue as he wished. Andy and I exchanged winks.

“But, guys … I … I think we’re going too far here. I mean, you both said that if I felt weird, we would not go to the party.” Travis looked funny, painted almost all in blue, and standing there in his underwear, still holding the two drinks, although he had drunk most of his. “Guys, I trust you to keep your word, OK? I might feel just that weird. OK?” His pleading sincerity surprised me, so I wanted him to calm down and trust us.

“You are absolutely right, Travis,” I told Andy in a serious tone as I methodically walked around the room, picking up the few items I saw that he could possibly use to cover himself up. “Let me explain.” Travis was so concerned about what I was saying that he didn’t question my picking up and carrying his robe, a towel, a sweater, and a few other items I grabbed off his furniture.

As I set the pile down, I told Andy to give me his car keys, which he did. Then I fished out my own keys and looked into Travis’ eyes. “Travis, a deal’s a deal. Here, take our keys and go into your den, shut the door, and hide them anywhere you want. Be sure not to touch anything with that wet paint on you. When Travis reentered the living room a few minutes later, I told him, “See, Travis, now you know we are going nowhere without your permission. Finally, Travis really did feel safe and fully allowed himself to become relaxed, even asking for another drink.

The Surprise Party
Part 2 of 3

“Now, do you feel better, buddy?” He blushed with some embarrassment at his thinking Andy and I could not be trusted. Travis has always been shy and, for some stupid, fucked-up reason, felt his body was not very sexy. Travis forgot all about that pile of clothes and stuff I had gathered earlier, which was no longer there. I had secretly tossed the whole bundle of stuff in one of his kitchen cabinets. Out of sight, out of mind … I guess that works. I just wanted his body to be fully exposed for a while and for him not to have access to something he could easily put on. Andy went to the bathroom on cue for more paint to allow me to advance our scheme.

I looked around Travis's new apartment; it was really nice, especially compared to the dumpy place he used to have. Then I told him, “We kept our part of the bargain. You get to decide if we leave your apartment; now it’s your turn to keep your part. I don’t know about Andy, but I know you already decided that we are not going to the party at Robert and Bob’s, and that’s cool, but now you need to let Andy do his thing and finish your outfit. This is the least you can do, to fully cooperate with him in the safety and privacy of your home.” Travis readily and happily agreed.

“It’s 6:45, and Andy still thinks we all need to be ready to leave at eight. So let’s get hopping. Besides, I know you’re enjoying all those goose-bump-producing, touchy strokes you’re getting as he applies the paint. You lucky dog you! And since you’re being such a good sport, I’ll even suggest to Andy that he do more of your legs. It’ll be like a paint body massage.” We both giggled. Andy returned from the bathroom with several shades of blue, running from medium to navy. I suggested that he do a more full-body painting, and Andy said that’d be fine since he loved how Travis' artwork turned out. Therefore he covered his legs, arms, and even the tops of his feet. “Great,” I thought, “just as we had planned.” I brought Travis the requested drink with another Viagra smashed into it.

Andy was painting his entire body shades of blue. The base coat was a light blue, but now he was adding dark blue stripes from his backbone coming around his sides. Travis was sipping his spiked drink while occasionally laughing at the erotic, tickling feel of the paintbrushes Andy was now using to make the darker stripes over his ribs. This brush tickling was all he now needed to start showing some expansion of his dick. It was not stiff yet but was now full-size and pointing down. Andy and I never brought any attention to it, only traded winks and a quick finger pointing at his dick. “Hey guys,” Travis said as he sipped on his screwdriver, “I really need to tell you that I definitely decided not to go out tonight. So, we’ll stay here. I hope that’s OK with you both.”

Andy remained focused on painting the detail strips without flinching or even looking up. “Whatever you say, Travis. We told you we are fine with staying here. I just want to finish my idea, and since it’s turning out fabulous … if you don’t mind … I’d like to get some photos of you before you wash this all off. By the way, you look great in blue.” We laughed it up.

Andy told me to look in the large black trashcan-type bag he brought and to fetch the black wig. I did and found it quite unusual. The wig had blue, rubbery pointy ears mounted on each side, so when you wore it, it looked like the blue pointy ears were sticking out from the sides of your face. It was all as planned. As Andy was working on painting his feet, I fitted the wig over his head and wiggled it to fit firmly in place, with long braids running down his back and down the sides of his face. “Let me see, let me see,” Travis yelled excitedly, “Let me get to my mirror.” Travis was excited, but we did not want him to look at himself, especially since he was wearing his ever-enlarging boner in his shorts.

“This must look great, guys. I think this wig makes me feel warm and fuzzy, even a little floaty.” I joked in a whisper to Andy, “Yeah, right. It’s the wig!” I chuckled to myself, “It can’t be the booze or the double dose of Viagra. It’s just the wig making him …. ah … ‘floaty.’ ”

Andy told me to get the animal teeth and the small white tube out of his bag. I did and handed them over. We had talked about these white plastic fangs over the phone, but I did not realize how well-made they were. He got them at the movie studio’s makeup department, where he used to work. The separate upper and lower plastic fangs were large enough to fit completely over one’s teeth. Across the bottom fangs, toward the back, like where the molars are, was attached a flat plastic disk, about the size of a quarter and referred to as a speaking impediment. Its job was to disallow normal use of the tongue, causing the wearer to be able to make no more than animal sounds. Andy squeezed out a glue line into the backs of both the upper and lower fangs, much like denture adhesive. The temporary glue would secure the fangs so well that they couldn’t be removed without using the glue-dissolving mouthwash, which I also saw in the bag. I guess this is so monster actors don’t lose their fangs while filming a movie.

He handed me the glue-coated fangs and said, “Put those in his mouth. At least that’ll keep him quiet while I finish up.” We were laughing, including Travis, who knew he was kidding. I told Travis to open up wide, and he did, and I seated the upper fangs over his upper teeth with a “snap.” The lower ones snapped on just as snugly, with the plastic disk resting on the back of the tongue, but it looked comfortable for the wearer. Travis made growling sounds, pretending to be a wild animal. God, he was sexy in an animalistic way. Can you imagine there is Travis, giggling and feeling no pain, all painted blue with stripes, wearing a wig, pointy ears, speechless fangs, and Viagra-bulging underwear? Fuck! Talk about pointy ears. He was throwing a pointy rod. I’m sure with all our distractions, teasing, and just the right amount of vodka to take the edge off his alertness, he didn’t realize he had a big stiffy. Fuck, and we don’t even get to take him out.

“Ey wah tah tee ah meeth.” I think Travis said, “I want to see a mirror.” I just told him to relax and that we were almost done.

It was 7:30, and it was Andy’s turn to get Travis a little more compliant for our next step. Andy put down his paint and brush to stand near Travis, lightly placed his fingertips on his chest, testing the dried paint. “Travis, honey, I want you to do me a personal favor, OK?” Travis grunted as if to ask what. “Since we are not going out, I want to get some good photos of you to record my body-painting skills for my art portfolio, OK?” Again Travis grunted, and a little spit started to leak out of the side of his mouth. Andy was now flicking his fingernails over both of Travis’s nipples and causing him to roll his eyeballs up to the ceiling. “But I need to remove your underwear, not for long, just to paint that area and then quickly take a photo. No one will see, and I’ll return your underwear afterward, OK?”

Andy moved one hand behind Travis and slowly slipped it down the back of his jockeys. “Will you do that for me? Please?” Andy moved his index finger to Travis’ asshole and lightly rubbed those rosebud lips, sending shivers up Travis’ spine and making him momentarily weak-kneed. He continued making tiny circles on the edge of his friend’s butt hole. “Please? Handsome? I’ll pull them all the way up again as soon as I’m finished.” And with his glazed-over look, Travis nodded his approval.

Travis said, “Ma ey tah deez teehs otta ma moth?” Was he asking to remove the teeth from his mouth? Then he put his hand to his mouth and tried to remove them, but they did not budge. The glue dries in five minutes, and they were not coming out except with the solvent. “Ey dust wah ta te yah diz tota?” I told him not to worry; his fangs would be out soon. We have the removing agent to do that. “To ta,” he said.

Andy interrupted, “First, I’ve got to do your underarms. Go ahead and raise both arms as high as possible, and keep them there. He did, and Andy did his evil deed of applying paint to his ticklish underarms. Fortunately for us, Travis found that also erotic, and the various sensations consumed his entire focus, struggling to keep his arms high and making giggling animal sounds, spraying spit as he laughed; he was hilarious, cute, and distracted. That was my cue to kneel down to the floor at Travis’ feet and remove his underwear.

I (Jerry) told our good friend Travis that the plan was to let Andy's imaginative spirit create an artistic costume for each of us, and then we'd all go to a surprise party at Robert and Bob's, where costumes were required. We never told him what his costume would be. Since we planned for shy Travis to end up as a naked, blue Avatar figure, we had to get him a little tipsy on vodka, and ... according to our detailed plan, I added some Viagra to his drinks as well. As he started acting a tad silly, we gradually talked him out of his clothes and into more blue paint.

We distracted and deceived him into getting him down to his underwear, which was possible only because he was not in his normal, clear-headed state of mind; we saw to that! At one point, he realized he was becoming way too exposed for his conservative, shy nature and declared that he'd only go along with the body painting for fun if Andy and I agreed not to go to Robert and Bob's surprise party. We feigned disappointment as we clearly agreed not to leave Travis’s apartment. This allowed him to relax and not worry about embarrassment at that party.

While Andy was distracting Travis by finishing up painting his ticklish underarms, it was my job to remove his Jockeys. Of course, kneeling at his feet put my face inches from his precum-soaked, tented underwear. I have to confess, I lingered there, just looking and seeing how his dick pulled his underwear away from his body, created a space at his thighs in which I could … I did – oh fuck, yes! - stick a finger inside the leg hole to tickle his balls. Travis was too focused on Andy’s tactful underarm erotic brushing to notice anything I was doing below his waist. I had a boner also, but … on with the task at hand. You might think I should simply push his Jockeys down and then have him step out of them. I think that would work.

It’s just that we didn’t want any of his attention being drawn to his dick, not yet, anyway. So instead, I reached for my trusty two-inch pocket knife, looked up to see that Andy was still monopolizing all of Travis’ attention, then quickly cut the white material at one hip and then at the other. I chuckled to myself as the underwear remnant did not fall but hung from his out-jutting dick, which worked as a clothes hanger. I removed the underwear rag and stuffed it in my pocket.

I stood up, and Andy told me to watch to be sure his arms stayed up until the paint dried up. Otherwise, his armpit hair would all get stuck together. He was trying to ask me if his fangs could be removed … I guess … so he never noticed that his underwear went missing. Although it was time to paint his private parts, so he’d realize his undies were “temporarily” removed.

Travis was enjoying the feel of Andy’s brushstrokes now on and around his dick and all around his balls. I loved it when Andy asked me to spread his ass cheeks apart so he would fully cover his asshole and ass crack with paint. And afterward, I had to hold them apart for a few minutes for the paint to dry. That’s when I noticed Andy’s little joke of painting his asshole lips a bright yellow; it looked great with everything else in shades of blue. Finally … Andy was all done. As he put his paint supplies aside, he told me to go to his oversized bag and fetch him his camera and a toy machine gun for Travis to hold in the photos. He took the gun, gave it to Travis, and asked me to take photos. “All right, Travis,” I said. “Ready for your little photo session?” But Andy stopped. Apparently, he wanted a stiffer erection from Travis.

“Hold it a minute, Jerry. Let me test this paint first.” He walked over to our painted-up buddy and flicked his nipples. “It’s dry here,” he announced, but he continued to tease Travis’ nipples pretending to see if the paint would flake off. “How about here?” And Andy moved his hand again to Travis’ asshole. There went the dick stiffer and stiffer, pointing down and nicely away from his body, which is exactly what they both wanted to show clearly in the photos. “And how about here?” And then moved his hand farther down and between Travis’ legs, all the way to his balls, and tickled lightly. “Yeah, his paint’s good. Go ahead, Jerry, he’s ready now.” And Andy stepped away as I took several full-body shots.

In a few minutes, we were all done and thanked Travis for his cooperation. We put his prop gun away and noticed it was a few minutes to eight. Travis was trying to clear his head and take in the whole experience as he unconsciously placed his hand on his dick. He felt it and finally looked down, shocked to realize he had a huge boner. He panicked a little and apparently started to look around for his clothes or something to cover himself up. Then he asked quite firmly, “Wa thar ma thothes?” Not only did we hide his clothes, but from the time we arrived, we also removed everything else that might provide him some cover, such as towels and coats, and even the small throw rug he had near the front door. There was nothing immediately around him to use to hide his boner.

His newfound awareness of his obscene appearance was not a bad thing. In fact, Andy and I had planned for this to happen. I mean, he was painted like an “Avatar” character, had a “spontaneous” boner that he couldn't will away, could not find a stitch to cover himself up, and had lost his ability to communicate. The disorienting effects of the booze helped Andy and me get him to this point.
The Surprise Party
Part 3 of 3

But as I mixed the last few drinks for Travis, I intentionally lessened the amount of vodka in them to get him back to near sober by this point in time. We wanted him to be acutely aware of what was about to happen yet unable to lose his erection. Everything was going nicely according to our timeline.

It just turned eight on the nose, the precise time Andy and I were preparing for. We distracted our confused buddy, purposely keeping him occupied near his front door. And right on time - we did synchronize our watches - his doorbell rang. I immediately opened it wide, and just as we had choreographed it, the small crowd of our friends entered quickly to encircle the three of us. Everyone laughed and giggled as they greeted Travis in all his animal, boned-up glory with a loud, cheery surprise, “Happy housewarming Travis! Great apartment you have. It looks very nice.” Various guests were making comments like “Great party outfit, Trav,” and, “Wow, bud, did we give you a ‘hard’ time, or what throwing you this surprise party?” and one lady cooed, “We knew you were blue, so we wanted to cheer you up, ...SURPRISE!!!” she chuckled and stared at his jutting rod.

Travis forgot about his erection because he was so blown away to have this surprise celebration for his new digs. The circle of friends surrounding him remained, more or less, shoulder-to-shoulder as our way of not allowing him to slip off into another room.

But, of course, with all his friends busting in, he desperately yelled out for his clothes, trying frustratingly to enunciate his urgent request as best his glued-in fangs would allow, “Pleez, pleez lea ma ga ma thoes.” Since no one understood him, I offered to interpret.

“Welcome, everyone,” I shouted to the group of both gay and straight friends, “Travis is having trouble speaking with those damn stupid fangs in his mouth, but he refuses to remove them. Now, I know our Travis sounds like a Klingon for Star Wars, or is that Star Trek … but I can interpret his outer space dialect.” Everyone chuckled. “What he just said was, ‘Thank you for the housewarming surprise party.’”

“Nah ey dihen, ey neth to ga ma tothes ton.” Our group of friends was giggling at the funny and inarticulate speech and the way the fangs caused him to spray spit when he tried to be more forceful. I noticed him staring at his bedroom door and his initial attempt to push some guests gently aside, presumably to get to the privacy of that room. So I whispered in his ear that I locked all the interior doors an hour ago, so he might as well stay put. I guess it didn’t register in his panicky brain that those doors don’t even have locks.

“Oh my, my, guys. Now he is thanking Andy for painting his dick and balls and … and … what was that last part … Travis?

“Peez - gaz - ey - neth – ma – toths – anh – ta – hah – u - teer.” He was slobbering as he once again made a greater effort to enunciate each word but failed miserably. The false teeth with that little tongue depressing thingy worked perfectly, giving me full control over translating his gibberish sounds into my made-up, sleazy sentences.

“Are you sure you want me to tell them THAT? Really Travis?” I faked a surprised look and raised my eyebrows, then turned to the group, “Well … ah … OK … folks, Travis says he has a big beautiful erection because he is so delighted to see you all.” Then I added, “But don’t believe that, guys. That penis he is wearing is just a realistic-looking costume prop.

“ Toh Eydoth wa ta ba disposz tal nakdth.” Travis mumbled frustratingly. The guests first chuckled but then hushed so they could hear my translation.

“Well, I guess I was wrong about that.” I smiled at the group, “He says it’s his own. … Well … to use his exact words … he says it’s his own ‘real fuck pole, all boned up for your enjoyment,’ and that he invites you all to feel it for yourselves so you will believe him. So, feel free to … ah … feel the real … Travis.” I took a step aside so whoever wanted to reach out and grab the blue-painted dick could do so. Surprisingly, many of the women did just that, as a few shook with excitement and giggled.

Can you imagine there was our friend Travis, all naked and painted in shades of blue with dark stripes and wearing an avatar wig with pointy ears? We tricked him by telling him this was just a private event, but in reality, we had “decorated” him up as part of his surprise party. Not only that, but we glued fangs in his mouth, which made it impossible for him to articulate anything intelligible. So he could not explain to all these friends who had just come in and quickly encircled him that he was the victim of a humiliating joke. He was more than surprised - he was thoroughly embarrassed to be naked, with a huge dripping boner caused by the Viagra I slipped into his drinks earlier when we were painting him up. Now, all his friends were surrounding him and giggling.

Travis did not know that all these friends were in on this; we had planned it for weeks, and I (Jerry) and Andy coordinated everything. Now, I was prolonging Travis’ humiliation by pretending to interpret the animal sounds he was making. It was embarrassing and frustrating for Travis, who was only trying to ask for a robe to cover up his naked body. But I pretended - and this was all preplanned ­- to understand him, and translated to the group, all Travis’ garbled sounds into sleazy and obscene sentences. I loved it!

Standing there like a naked avatar, Travis was shaking his head “no” as well as waving his hands back and forth to stress his disagreement with my interpretations. One friend of ours spoke out with concern, asking if Travis was saying “no” to them and wanting them all to leave now. I simply leaned my ear against Travis’ mouth and pretended to hear Travis whisper something to me.

I faced the group and laughed aloud, “No … no … my friends. He thought a couple of you near the door were about to leave, and he was signaling, ‘No. Please don’t go yet.’ ” So, can we all help Travis enjoy his surprise party? Yes?” And people nodded, and many said, “Sure, we’ll stay.” Travis was getting nowhere with his attempts to communicate and felt there was nowhere to hide.

I turned to Travis, first checking out his huge erection, then looking him in the eyes and speaking loudly enough for all to hear. I asked, “Hey Travis, we see that your dick is dripping syrupy precum on your beautiful carpet. Do you want someone to get a towel for you to wipe it off?”

Travis quickly moved his hands to his dick, trying more to hide it from everyone’s view, and said, “Toud ey git ah tawl ta tover tup? Peez? Ey toe huan barshed.”

“OK, OK,” I shouted, “I was just trying to be helpful, Travis.” Then facing the group, “Ah … folks … Travis was just explaining that his “Avatar” character eats his own gook for protein and is usually fed it by others as an act of care and love. He says it tastes like ice cream.” The guests all cheered and applauded, and one guy yelled, “Can he make more dessert for the rest of us?” There was a burst of solid laughter.

I called out to one of our friends in the back: “Hey, Charlie, go get Travis his robe so he can get covered up and be more comfortable. I saw it in the den, which is through that door.” Then to the group in general, I added, “I think we’ve all seen enough of … well ... of … Travis.” The group of friends jokingly booed in protest.

Travis must have felt so fucking pleased that I finally ended his humiliation with the nasty prank that Andy and I created as part of his surprise party. He spoke up, and I knew he thanked me for ending his nightmare.

“Thas tharry. Tho goth ma thood. Ba thow da theed ta taver tup Tay? Tha tokay this too?”

“Hold off, Charlie. Travis just asked if we would allow him to continue to strut around naked so he can keep displaying his big blue hairy balls and stiff dippy dick for us, so forget about the robe.“ Some friends applauded, more cheered. “The last little bit was him telling us to feel free to take photos of him and that he is happy to pose any way you want him to.”

“Diz, diz, et doth top dis owe. Dou tad dor ton. Tay?

“Well, don’t let this freak you out, but he just said he doesn’t notice when his big boner is dripping. He’s asking nicely, folks, and if it is OK with you, just catch some of his leaking dick ooze with your hand and then stick your fingers in his mouth to let him lick them off. I was doing that for him earlier, and he really appreciated it. But please notice that his fangs make it difficult for him to lick. God! I wish he’d just remove those stupid things! But … anyway, you have to carefully insert your fingers into his mouth and sort of wipe the goo onto his tongue. If you want to feed him, and he is not dripping anything, I did discover that tickling his nipples would cause him to leak more. That’s up to you, but … he is our friend.”

“Anyway,” I concluded, “I’m going to get drinks for everyone and more munchies. Travis has insisted that he be the good host and pass them out. And, of course, I’ll make a nice special drink for Travis. He’s earned it, folks … hasn’t he? So you all make sure he drinks it all down.” More applause and good wishes were heard.

Travis calmed down and found it OK to go along with everything happening. He started to freely walk around naked, joke with his friends, and soon realized that these guests were not laughing at him but rather laughing with him. It all gelled in his mind that no one puts in all this time and all this obviously coordinated energy to pull a prank on someone they don’t care about. These were his true friends, and he could go along. He wondered why his dick was continuously hard and leaking precum and thought he might be a closeted exhibitionist.

He tried to ignore his continuous boner, but with people occasionally playing with his nipples and then squeezing his dick to encourage more precum to feed him, it was the center of his attention and everyone else’s. The first time a lady friend stuck her fingers in his mouth, he reacted naturally and closed it, scratching the back of her hand with his fangs. He felt so bad that he patted her on her shoulder to apologize. From then on, he couldn’t or wouldn’t resist their feeding antics. When anyone approached him trying to insert their fingers between his lips, he allowed him and opened his mouth as wide as possible so no one else would get cut on his fangs.

Travis accepted his proper role as the avatar host. He didn’t even mind teasing his guests back by making animal growling sounds. At least Travis didn’t have to explain anything. He heard bits and pieces of the prank's details as he mingled. He knew then that my raunchy mistranslations were all planned, and everyone knew Travis never said those lewd things. He felt good being accepted and well-liked by his friends. I was busy preparing more drinks in the kitchen, including one special one for Travis, which I mixed in another Viagra. The crowd knew from the planning stage that Travis would get “special Viagra drinks,” but no one told Travis THAT part, and he never figured out why he maintained an erection the entire evening. He assumed it was just from his being embarrassed.

At 10, all the guests left, as did I, after getting my car keys back from Travis. Andy stayed to help with the paint removal. Andy filled me in the next day about how he and Travis ended the night ... or, better put, how they did not end the night. Andy told Travis, "Now that we are alone, I think it’s time we get that paint off you. Andy placed the removal solution wash and a bunch of clean rags in his bathroom. "Shall we get started?” Travis, still with his proverbial leaky boner, just smiled, nodded, and added a pretend growl as they went to his room.

Andy began to easily rub off all the paint. He said, “This wash solution can cause your skin to get a little dry; sorry about that. The only simple and readily available way to stop dry skin is to coat you from head to toe with a good layer of saliva." Andy joked. "Since I’m the only one here, I guess that’ll be my job. You OK with that?” Travis made a romantic growling sound and nodded as if to say, “Oh, fuck yes!”

Andy completed wiping off all the body paint, then told Travis to shower well. When Travis entered his bedroom, as bonerized as ever, Travis said, “Ah uo honna taht deez tangs ut ta ma maut owe?”

“Take your fangs out? Now?” Andy said, pretending shock, as he undressed to Travis’ mesmerized, drooling stare. “Well ... Travis … ah ... if you don’t mind, I love hearing all your wild animal noises. Let’s take those fangs out when we get up in the morning, OK? Right now, I want your boner body over here," pointing to the bed, "and let me hear you purr like a contented wild lion as I lick every inch of your body.” Both naked, they plopped onto the bed, and Andy began the skin moisturizing “treatment” on Travis as he laid on his back with every muscle in his body completely relaxed … except the one pointing to the ceiling. Andy had a secret, year-long crush on Andy, but he never thought he'd ever get Andy's attention and affection so, ... so ... purrrrfectly.

The End

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