Part I The Inspiration

OK, I'll admit it right up front. When my gay four-wheel drive club had a fund-raiser at the local Levi/leather bar last year, I really got worked up during the water balloon throw. It cost a dollar a balloon to have a chance to soak a volunteer behind a chicken wire fence. Each time the balloon hit the fence it would break with a great splash and soak some vital area. Not that people were just aiming below the belt, but it was a popular target.

At first there were guys in swimsuits - no fun for me. Then guys in jeans started to go up on stage - much better. It was nice to see that dark blue denim get all shiny as the water ran down from their crotch to their feet. Then guys would turn their dry butt to the crowd and wave it just to keep the dollars flowing in. Finally some guys in jeans, leather and boots went up and teased the crowd. They got soaked big time.

I even got volunteered at the end. It was impossible to hide my woody as balloon after balloon soaked my tight dark blue 501s. I wanted to get soaked in my Levi jacket too, but the crowd kept chanting, "Take it off," so I did. Water was just running down my legs into my boots by the time I got off the stage. It was a warm sunny day so I just dripped dry out on the back patio deck of the bar enjoying free beers, courtesy of the bar owner.

All of that gave me an idea for this year's fund-raiser. GUNGE! And by organizing the event, I could make sure that the guys I got up on stage were fully clothed. The club president thought it was a good idea, so we set out to recruit club members to participate.

Part II The Setup

I hand picked the best-looking guys in the group. Some thought the idea was rather strange, but soon I had three guys willing to participate. I worked with each one of them to select what they were going to wear. Then I went to the local warehouse club and purchased large quantities of supplies for the event. The final preparation was to package the gunge in different size containers and mark them with prices.

Fortunately the day of our event was another hot sunny afternoon. We had advertised in the local gay newspaper and the turnout was really good. At three o'clock we kicked off the beer bust part of the afternoon by introducing the victims - I mean volunteers. We played Village People music as we introduced our club president Mike dressed like a construction worker. Then Gary was brought on stage - dressed like a motorcycle cop. Jim came up last dressed in full black leather and boots. All three of them taunted the audience saying how much the other two guys really needed to be gunged big time.

They spent the next hour working the crowd. We had all the containers of gunge out on a counter marked with prices and they were drawing a lot of interest. Finally at four-thirty we started the action. With a drum roll on the sound system, each of the three volunteers was seated in a plastic chair in the middle of a small plastic wading pool.

There was a premium to be the first one to gunge each of the guys. The first guy to pay the premium had a box of six eggs. This big burly fellow got a gleam in his eyes as he went up on stage with his prize. He walked by each guy on stage and then smiled as he stopped in front of GARY. I heard him say something about a traffic ticket as he asked Gary to take off his trooper hat.

Part III The Fun

The first two eggs were cracked over Gary's head. As the egg ran down over his head, the guy put Gary's hat back on. Then he opened the pockets on the front of his shirt, put in an egg in each and then squashed them with his hand. The egg started oozing through the fabric down the front of his uniform shirt. After getting Gary to stand up, he reached out, pulled out the waistband of his uniform pants and put two eggs down the front of his crotch. Another deft squish and by the look on Gary's face we knew that the eggs were broken inside his pants.

Smiling with great satisfaction, the first bidder left the stage and Gary sat down with a strange look on his face. This started a buying frenzy at the gunge table as the audience started getting into the fun.

The next bidder was the vice president of the club. He selected a couple of cream pies. He confidently strode up on stage and selected Mike, our "construction worker" president as his target. The first pie went smoosh into Mike's face and the second one went into his crotch. Mike's tight Levis could not hide the fact that he got a boner when this happened. Then our VP turned around, bought another big cream pie and made Mike sit in it. The words "you're dogmeat" were heard as the cream squished out around Mike's butt and legs.

The last item selected for the first round of gunging was a two-quart container of syrup. This time the bidder was a guy with a big grin. It was Jim's partner Randy. He went directly to Jim and asked him if he was ready for some payback. Jim gritted his teeth and said it depended on whether Randy wanted to sleep on the couch that night. Randy pulled out the top of Jim's leather shirt and poured the whole two quarts of syrup over Jim's hairy chest. As it ran down, he pulled out the waistband of his leather jeans and let it continue to run down into Jim's crotch.

At this point, not only was the crowd worked into a frenzy by the gunging, they were also two hours into a beer bust. Money changed hands quickly and soon Mike's white T-shirt was covered in tomato sauce, Gary's tan uniform was dripping green slime and Jim's leather was shiny with all kinds of gunge. Over the next 45 minutes we sold out of our containers of gunge and the guys on stage were a complete mess.

The most expensive containers of gunge were three buckets of oatmeal. I was surprised that no one had purchased them - although they were priced at $10 each. I looked around and they were nowhere in sight. Just as I was about to ask the guys behind the sales table what had happened to them, I got strong-armed from behind. I heard the words, "Come with us and there won't be any trouble." Struggling a bit, I was pushed up onto the stage.

A very messy Mike got up from his chair. He announced to the crowd that I had organized the gunge activity and asked what they wanted to do to thank me. Quickly the chant, "Gunge Him, Gunge Him" came from the crowd. I was dressed in tight dark indigo 501s (commando style), denim western shirt, tall lace-up logger boots and a leather baseball cap. Three guys came up on stage carrying the buckets of oatmeal. Mike announced that he, Gary and Jim had purchased these containers of gunge to get even with me. A great cheer went up as I was seated in the middle chair.

First Mike took off my cap and poured his entire bucket of oatmeal over my head. It ran down over my shoulders, over my shirt and into my lap. As I was wiping it out of my eyes, I felt the cap go back on my head and I was told to stand up. Then Gary poured his bucket of slop inside the front and back of my shirt. It ran out between the snaps and down my legs. Finally Jim pulled out the waistband of my 501s and poured in his slime - half inside the front and half inside the back of my Levis.

The feeling was just incredible as the warm goo slid over my body inside my clothes. I had a major woody the entire time I was up there, but suddenly, without touching myself, I felt a spontaneous major-league orgasm. I could feel the warm jizz shooting inside my jeans. I gave a big smile to the crowd, little did they know why.