The CFNM Rating Agency Pt. 03

Sunday afternoon I drive to LAX, park my Porsche, and catch my flight to Miami. My seat-mate this time is a businessman who runs an auto parts chain, so I'm compelled to talk a bit about plastics. Finally, he excuses himself to use the restroom and I arrange to have my head buried in a magazine when he returns, cutting off any further conversation.

The flight gets in around nine. I check into the Hilton at the airport. I stop by the lobby bar for a drink, hoping for a Roving CFNM girl to come over, as I haven't had an orgasm since Friday. Finally, a gorgeous Cuban-looking woman of about twenty-five carries her drink over, takes the chair next to me, and shows me her iPhone screen. She tells me her name is Adolfina. We chat a bit while we finish our drinks, and then she follows me to my room.

Once inside, I remove my clothes. "How do you want me?" I ask.

"Flat on the bed will do fine," she says.

I strip off the bedcover and lie back with my legs spread. She works me over for an hour, finishing with a sensational blow job. She uses her lips, her tongue, and her teeth in concert, like a musical trio. I come into her mouth and she swallows everything I have to give.

She takes a washcloth wet with warm water and washes me off. Then she takes a blue ribbon out of her purse, wraps it around my limp cock, and ties a perfect bow.

"My little trademark," she says, with a beautiful smile. "Leave it on all night. That's an order."

"I'm obligated to follow all orders. You want to come back in the morning and check?" I'm joking, and she knows it. Roving CFNMs are almost always short of time.

"Can't. Got an early meeting. Can I trust you?"

"You can. Thanks, Adolfina."

"You're very welcome, Brendan." She kisses the tip of my cock and leaves.

I go to sleep immediately. When I awake, the bow is still there.

* * *

The Red Coral Resort is new to us, so I have to use my GPS to find it. It's in Fort Lauderdale, along a stretch of beach shielded from its neighbors by its own five-story buildings and some strategically-placed fences and palm trees. I leave my car with the valet and go inside with my carryon. I walk to the front desk expecting to check in. I announce my name.

"No need for check in just yet," says the cute woman behind the counter. "Please follow me."

She leads me to a small conference room. Without a word, she unzips me and pulls out my penis and testicles. She examines me in a clinical way. It feels more like a urology exam than what it is, which is a surprise fondling by a set of fantastically sexy fingers.

"Just a quick check," she explains, with a smile. "Before your interview. Don't worry, you check out just fine. In fact, I hope to meet you again later." She tucks my genitals back into my shorts and zips me up.

"There's an interview?" I ask. I've heard of such things, but I've never encountered one myself.

"Yes. Don't worry, it's short. We have a selection committee who has to approve all men prior to their first visit. It will start in a few minutes. Can I get you something?"

"A cold beer?" I ask. "A local microbrew, if you have it." It's only ten in the morning, but I feel like a beer.

"Absolutely." She disappears for minute and returns with a mug of beer and a plate of cheese and crackers. "In case you're hungry for a snack. Please wait here. It will only be a few minutes."

I settle into a chair and sip the beer. I'm wondering about the interview. I hope its purpose isn't to catch inspectors.

A few minutes later three women enter the room. Their ages look to be between about thirty and thirty-five. They're tanned and athletic looking, dressed in skimpy shorts and halter tops. Two are blond, and the other is a redhead.

"Good morning, Brendan," begins the redhead.

"Good morning, ladies," I say.

She's all business. "Please remove your clothes."

I disrobe and place my clothes on an empty chair. They arrange their chairs in a semi-circle, and the redhead motions for me to stand in front of them. I walk over and stand with my hands behind my back, making no attempt to hide my privates. I don't want them to think I'm too shy for their resort.

The blue-eyed blond extends a bare foot and starts flicking my balls. "We need you to get hard now. If you need any help, let us know. Or, do you want to do it yourself?"

"I prefer you do it, Miss." I realize they've offered no names, which is normal for the interview, I guess. "But, just talking about it is probably going to make it happen." I smile.

The women smile back at me. "We'll wait and see," says the green-eyed blond.

Sure enough, with a few more toe flicks around my balls, I get erect.

"You're doing great so far, Brendan," says the redhead. "We have only a few questions. The interview is really just to make sure that you're comfortable with nudity and with being handled. We also want to make sure you've got a sexy body, of course. You seem to excel in both areas. Have you been doing CFNM for long?"

If she only knew. Time to lie. "For a few years, just on vacation. After I did it the first time, I got hooked."

"What do you like about having your penis on display?" asks the blue-eyed blond, as she reaches out and starts stroking it with her fingers.

"It's an incredible turn-on," I answer. "Especially, of course, when the women looking at it are clothed. It gives me a feeling of vulnerability that I find very stimulating."

She starts squeezing my balls. "And you don't mind being handled?"

"Not at all," I answer. "I like it a lot." I'm trying to make my answers sound a little dumb, so as not to give away my professional status.

"My turn," says the redhead. The blond lets go and the redhead takes my cock in one hand and pulls my sack down with the other. I get harder and start leaking pre-cum. She grabs the loose skin under my glans and starts rolling it around, now pressing my balls between her fingers with exactly the right amount of pressure. I feel on the edge of pain, but it's still on the pleasure side. I want to impress these women with my ability to stay hard without coming, but it's proving difficult. The interview setting and my abrupt treatment give me a sense of helplessness that I find too arousing to overcome.

"Do you want to come, Brendan?" asks the redhead as she starts running a finger over my glans, smearing it with pre-cum.

"Definitely," I answer.

"Any preference?"

"Sorry, I don't know your names. But one of you hasn't touched me yet. So, I'll decide that way."

The green-eyed blond grabs my cock and pulls me towards her. With both hands, she begins kneading my shaft like it's bread dough. The redhead puts a towel on the blond's lap and then massages me under my balls, putting pressure on my prostate. Now the blond is rubbing her thumbs along the underside of my shaft while moving my cock around in circles.

The urge to shoot off is so fierce I can't control it. It's so strong that it doesn't happen, as though my cock is paralyzed. It keeps building as these two women keep working me over, one on my shaft and one pulling my balls so hard it feels like she's tearing them off.

Just when I can't hold back any longer, I realize the blue-eyed blond had stepped around me. She spreads my cheeks, inserts two fingers into my asshole, and presses them in so hard it feels like they're going to come out my penis.

With all three women, six hands in all, on me, I'm in a state of suspension. My orgasm keeps building. I'm not trying to stop it, but I can't do anything. I'm totally under the control of these incredible females.

Finally, I explode with such violence that I yell, something I rarely do. My legs go weak, but the women are holding me up. I lose track of how long I orgasm, but it seems to come in waves. I wonder if it's just one? It seems like two, or even three. At last it stops, my cock goes limp, and the women let me go. I sit on a nearby towel-covered chair.

"You passed, Brendan," says the redhead. "Welcome to Red Coral Resort. Leave your clothes off, of course. Someone will be here in a few minutes to get you registered."

I don't say anything. I'm not sure I can even talk. The green-eyed blond hands me a glass of ice water. The women smile and leave the room.

* * *

I relax with the ice water as I slowly recover, feeling fairly normal in ten minutes or so. A woman dressed in a tight white dress comes into the conference room with a basin and a washcloth and washes my cock and balls. There are a few drops of cum on my chest and abdomen, and she gets that, too. I sit back in the chair, drink my water, and let her do her job.

Then she hands me a small clipboard and a pen. "Would you like to register now, Brendan?"

"Sure." I fill out the brief form.

"Your room code is 84657. Can you memorize that? It's on this card, but, as you have no pockets, you'll have to leave the card in your room. If you forget it, just come to the front desk."

I take the card. "Thank, you. I'll work on memorizing it."

"I'll show you to your room now." She takes a soft velvety rope, loops it under my balls, over my cock, and ties it tight. Then she urges me out of my chair with a gentle tug. I follow her outside as she pulls me along by my genitals. I enjoy this humiliation. I even find it mildly amusing. Even though I just had one of the biggest orgasms of my life, I get semi-aroused.

When we get to the room, she removes my leash. "You can relax here for a little while, Brendan. Lunch is at noon by the pool. When you get there, remember to take one of the blue chairs, at whatever table has one available."

"Sure, thanks." I notice it's just before 11:30, so I lie down to rest. I set my alarm for 11:55 in case I fall asleep.

* * *

I guess I did fall asleep, because I'm woken up by the alarm. I quickly wash up and head towards the pool. I repeat the room code to myself over and over. 84657, 84657, 84657. I think I've got it.

The tables, each seating four, are arranged around the pool. I choose a blue chair shaded by an umbrella at an empty table and sit down. In a few minutes, a guy with a huge dick takes the blue chair next to mine, and two young women in very brief bikinis take the pink chairs, one opposite each of us. "I'm Brendan," I say.

Roger, Sally, and Gail introduce themselves. Sally, seated opposite me, places her foot on my cock and starts wiggling it around.

"Where are you guys from? Brendan?"

"LA," I answer.

"Nice place, but busy, right?" asks Sally, as she starts flicking my balls with her toes.

"It is. You learn to avoid the crowds."

"How about you, Roger?"

"Minneapolis," he answers, with a little gasp. I assume Gail is working on him.

The waitress comes and we order. I notice she's looking down at Sally's foot on my member.

There's more small talk during lunch, so much that I have to talk about the plastics business for a few minutes. Roger is anxious to talk about being a lawyer and I'm only too happy to let him. I learn that Sally is an elementary school teacher and Gail is a cop. The thought of that makes me harder, even though it's Sally's foot on me, not Gail's. I plan to make myself available to Gail later.

All the while, I'm making mental notes for my report. There's no way to write, but I've found that if I put notes on paper or on my laptop when I get to my room, nothing gets forgotten.

After lunch we stand up and Sally takes my cock in her hand. I notice that Gail has grabbed Roger in the same way. I'm fairly well hung, but I'm little compared to Roger. Gail looks like she's never going to let Roger go. I hope she does long enough for me to get some policewoman attention.

Sally pulls me over to the other side of the pool and I sit on a chaise lounge. She pulls another one close and sits facing me. "I'm going to finish what I started," she announces. Then she starts with her hands. She's very good at this, and I come in just a few minutes.

"Nice, Brendan," she giggles.

"Thanks, Sally. You did well, too."

"Any time. But, now I'm going to leave you and see what else there is for me to do. Just sit back. You won't be by yourself for long."

"Bye, Sally."

* * *

Before I can really settle back, I hear a whistle. The redhead from my interview has a megaphone. "Time for our ice breaker, everyone. Men, form a line here, in front of the screen." She motions to a fabric screen about thirty feet long. "Now, here are the simple rules. Women, you have twenty minutes to get the men's names and figure out how to recognize their cocks. If you haven't done this before, a little hint: Get them hard, because that's how they'll be when the competition starts. Then, after twenty minutes, the men will go behind the screen with just their penises poking through." She walks over behind the screen and pokes a couple of fingers through one of the holes. I see that there is a line of holes all the way down the screen, each about three inches in diameter. "There are prizes for the women who can best match the penises with the men. We have first, second, and third prizes for the women, and the same for the men who get the most right answers."

We line up, and for the first time I get an idea of how many men are here this week. It looks to be about a dozen. There are about twice that many women.

One by one, the women take my cock in their hands, turning it up, down, and side-to-side to find identifying characteristics. It's not a memory test—I see they're taking notes. I keep having to say my name. I would prefer just wearing a name tag, but I guess this way it's more personal. When you're manipulated by two dozen women in the span of twenty minutes, staying hard is easy.

The whistle blows again and we take our places behind the screen, making sure we rearrange ourselves, to make guessing more difficult. I poke my cock through my hole. I figure my balls are relevant as well, so I stick them through also.

Another whistle and the game is on. Now we're known only by our numbers, painted on the woman-side of the screen. Again, I find myself being handled by two dozen women. I stay hard, but, with all that commotion, I'm not even close to coming.

It's a lot of fun, especially for the women, who are laughing, giggling, and making all sorts of lewd and rude comments. I'm not offended, as I realize it's all part of the game. I hope the other men aren't either, but I don't really know.

Of course, Roger wins the men's prize. He's tied with one of the two men who aren't circumcised. I end up in the middle of the pack. I don't know the winning women. Not yet, anyway. I'm interested in knowing the winner, especially. She must know a lot about the male organ.

I'm still hard and want to come again, even though I've already done it twice today. I decide it's a good time to find Gail, but she's not around.

I'm relieved when a tall, very sexy brunette sees my plight. "I'm Milena," she says. "You look like you don't want to be by yourself."

"I don't," I say. "I'm looking for a release."

"I'll help, but in my own time." She takes hold of my very hard cock and leads me to a chaise lounge. She pulls hers right next to it and we both lie down, her hand still on my shaft. She takes out a paperback novel and starts reading, all the while stroking me. It reminds me a little of my recent experience on my flight back to LA, but with a big, obvious difference. This time I'm naked, for all the world to see. A few dozen women, anyway.

Milena is in no hurry. She keeps me hard for over an hour. Somehow she's able to touch me just enough to keep me hard without me coming, all the while reading her book.

Finally, she puts the book down and turns to me with a beautiful smile. "Brendan—that's your name, right?—you've been very cooperative. You've earned some release now."

Her looking at me after holding me for so long is nearly enough to take me over the edge all by itself. But what really does the trick is her fingers, which she moves up and down my shaft in an rhythm that builds and builds until I shoot my load right into the air, covering my stomach, my chest, and even all the way up to my face.

Milena lets out a squeal of delight. "Wow, Brendan, that's wonderful." She takes her beach towel and tries to clean me up, but there's too much cum.

"Thanks, Milena. I'll just take a shower. Enjoy your book."

"I will, Brendan," she says as she settles back into her chair.

I go off to the shower next to the pool and clean myself up. A few women passing by give me knowing glances, but I don't mind.