slapped Zack’s ass and told Zack to turn over.  Without hesitation he did as he was told.

When he did it was his rock hard cock that brought cheers from the surfers.   The biggest cock they had seen in a long time was running down the left side of his leg and poking out swim trunks.

A handsome young surfer called Rip knelt down beside Juan; he had a bronze body and Rastafarian hair.

“Fuck man!” he exclaimed. “Check out the dude’s big tool! God, the thing must be 9 inches and thick as a brick.”

He grabbed it in his right hand and started milking it.

Zack’s face lit up, it felt wonderful, but like all straight men he felt compelled to object so he yelled.
“What the fuck you think your doing!”

His attempt to stop the invading hand on his cock was short lived as his arms were stretched above his head. Someone raised Zack’s head and a cup of orange juice and GHB was brought to his mouth.

“Drink it down stud…it‘ll have you feeling great in a few minutes,” a skinhead surfer laughed. “Or…it’ll make you feel great to us.”

Zack felt his trunks being pulled down his legs; hands were all over his body exploring his nether regions. A bottle of poppers was placed under his nose; his mouth was covered and his left nostril blocked. “That’s it fucker, take a deep breath…you’ll feel a rush all over your body.”

The poppers were moved to the other side and he breathed in deeply; at the same moment he was feeling a burning rush through his body as his cock was being jacked hard and forcefully into someone’s hot mouth.

Zack’s legs were raised and he felt a tongue lapping at his opening trying to force its way in; the tongue was replaced with a finger, finally two figures sawed away at the entrance. His protests were completely incoherent, and the band of expatriates taunted him with their replies.

“Hey gringo we can’t understand ya—sounds like you got a dick in ya mouth or something—or maybe ya just need a big dick for a little oral gratification.” The surfers laughed with each reply.

The surfers had dropped their board trunks and were slowly jacking, like roman candles they began shooting off, plastering Zack’s body and face. The thick white cum was clinging to his skin like glue, refusing to run except on the steepest inclines. A glob on his nose moved slowly down to his lips; a wild cheer went up when Zack’s tongue made a swipe at his top lip, licking it clean.

A skinhead surfer covered in prison tats—and with a rippling muscular body like a pit bull—straddled Zack’s chest. He aimed his long cock at his mouth.

 “It’s dick-sucking time! If I feel any damn teeth against my god-like cock I’ll take a lead pipe to you—and you’re still goanna deep-throat and swallow—got that pretty boy?” Juan grabbed Zack’s ball and twisted them until he screamed.

“Pay attention down here Gringo its cherry busting-101; you’re our star pupil tonight. We got fifteen swinging cocks for your enjoyment.”

Juan continued to stroke Zack’s prostrate with three fingers; suddenly Zack arched his back and shot off straight up. The first volley of cum was thick and exploded like a geyser three feet high and landed on his washboard abs.

Rod, the skinhead surfer straddling Zack’s chest, reached back and dragged two figures through the cum collecting on