Private Party

by Graeme Aitken

  I didn’t know Philippe well. I’d only ever met him the once and taken an instant dislike to him. Nevertheless, it was immensely titillating to read highly personal information about him, details which I was sure Strauss would be utterly agog to learn. His fetishes included body hair, facial hair, fur, and socks, while he listed his favourite actress as Sally Field. I could imagine that Strauss might have done whatever was required of him with the socks, however, Sally I knew he could not abide. There was no way in the world he would sit through her oeuvre. I began to appreciate just how handy Gaydar could be. The things you could find out!

  After encountering Philippe, I decided it was much more fun to scroll through Gaydar looking for people I knew, rather than for guys to have sex with. I came across numerous guys from the gym and was fascinated to read what they said about themselves. It was quite astonishing to learn who liked to be on top, on the bottom, or on the receiving end of someone’s fist. Then I came across Alejandro’s profile. Not only was he online but he had a status of hook-up now. I added him to my favourites so that I’d be able to find his profile again, then looked through his photographs with equal measures of lust and regret. It just seemed so senseless that he’d ended our sessions now that I was actually available. Clearly his latest resolve to be faithful to his boyfriend had been short-lived. Monogamy was another of those confusing English words that Alejandro had not mastered the meaning or practice of, and, I was quite sure, was never likely to.

  It had only been a few weeks since he’d rejected me. If he was horny, why hadn’t he hit me up? My fingers strayed onto the keyboard. I had a very strong impulse to say hi and see whether he’d had second thoughts. It was very easy to dismiss someone by text but I doubted Alejandro would be so resolute when confronted by the sexy photographs on my profile. There was a connection between the two of us that a mere glance could inflame, so the sight of my naked arse, well, it was a foregone conclusion. I began to type a message when suddenly the computer beeped at me angrily. My fingers sprang away from the keyboard as if they had been slapped. For a moment, I thought my computer had magically acquired more sense and dignity than I possessed, and was warning me not to commit such a desperate act. But then I realised: I had a Gaydar message.

  Amazingly, it was from HotBloke, asking to see my face pic. I e-mailed him my two headshots and within a couple of minutes, he had replied, complimenting me and asking if he should come over. I was amazed. Was it really as easy as this? I replied sure and gave him the address.

  HotBloke10: Altair right? I’m in Potts Point so shouldn’t be too long. See you in 15.

  I immediately began to have second thoughts. What if he looked nothing like his photographs in real life? That was what people always complained about on the internet. I went back to his profile and studied his photographs more closely. There was no date anywhere to indicate how old they were. Then I thought to read his profile properly. He’d looked so hot in his photos I’d only glanced at what he’d written. Thankfully, there was nothing off-putting listed and several things cited that fuelled my excitement. Apparently, he was Extra Large.

  Then I started to worry about security. Was it safe to let a complete stranger into the apartment? Should I go downstairs and talk to him on the street, make sure that I felt comfortable with him, before asking him upstairs? Then I remembered that the building had video camera security. I would be able to assess his looks before I let him in.

  Suddenly, it struck me that he said he’d be over in fifteen minutes and I’d just wasted five of those minutes when I should have been investing them in my appearance. I hadn’t even taken a shower. I dashed into the bathroom, then realised that I’d better sit on the toilet; after all I had invited the guy over to fuck me. That took another five minutes. I had a very quick shower, gargled and sprayed on some cologne. There was no time to shave. I hurried into the bedroom and surveyed the contents of my wardrobe. Even if it wasn’t going to stay on for very long, I still wanted to create a stylish impression. Thankfully my favourite underwear—red Aussie Bum—was fresh from the wash. As I slipped into those, the doorbell rang. I couldn’t believe it. Queens were always fashionably late; except if there was cock involved, then they were scrupulously punctual.

  I dashed across to answer it and there he was on the video intercom, looking just like the photos on his profile. He winked. ‘So, am I allowed in?’ he asked with a sexy grin.

  He was giving me a hard-on. ‘Sure, come on up,’ I said, buzzing him in.

  I hurried back to the bedroom and put on a pair of army shorts and a singlet. I scrutinised myself in the mirror and fussed with my hair. I wasn’t particularly satisfied, but then my doorbell rang, so it had to do. I took a quick glance at him through the spy hole, once again felt reassured by his appearance, and opened the door. ‘Hey,’ he said gruffly.

  He didn’t have a girlie voice. He wasn’t really short or badly dressed. All of the things that might have been wrong with him in the flesh weren’t. He was as sexy in real-life as he’d appeared in his photos. I just stood staring at him, completely forgetting about standing aside and ushering him in. HotBloke grinned. ‘So, am I okay? Do I pass?’

  I felt myself blush. ‘Sorry, yes, come in. It’s just I haven’t done this before … met someone off the computer …’

  ‘So you’re like a virgin at this and you want me to be gentle?’ he laughed.

  I blushed again. I suppose it had sounded like a line. ‘Can I get you a drink or something?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ll take the “or something”,’ he said, running a hand over my butt. ‘Nice.’

  He pulled me to him and began to kiss me deeply. I peeled off his tee shirt and ran an admiring hand over his muscular chest. ‘Let’s go to the bedroom,’ he suggested and he surprised me by leading me there.

  It seemed he already knew the lay-out of these apartments. Perhaps he had a friend in the building, or more likely, had hooked up with someone in the building. I was getting the sense that he’d done this many times before, which was making me feel a little uncertain. ‘Um, on your profile, you mentioned something about bondage and before we get started, I should warn you that …’

  ‘Bondage? Really? I filled in that thing so long ago, I honestly couldn’t tell you what boxes I ticked. I don’t like questionnaires much … but I do like arse,’ he said, squeezing his hand down the back of my shorts and beneath my underwear.

  He reinforced his words by rubbing his finger around my hole, then pulling me to him roughly and kissing me. I undid the button on my shorts and they fell around my ankles. HotBloke gave a growl of delight and began to kiss me again, while his finger became even more searching. Meanwhile, I was doing some investigating of my own and confirming that his cock was indeed extra large as claimed. I dropped to my knees in front of him and unbuttoned his jeans. He wasn’t wearing underwear and his cock sprang out at me like a jack-in-the-box. My mouth was around it in a flash. ‘Oh fuck yeah,’ HotBloke growled.

  It had been weeks since I’d had sex but what a way to return to it! As I went down on that big dick, I felt certain it must equal, and maybe even exceed, all the laudatory statistics that had been bandied around about Rick’s famous tool. But I wasn’t just sucking HotBloke’s cock; I was salving away all the pain, rejection and misery I’d suffered at the hands of Rick, Blake and Alejandro.

  After a while HotBloke pulled me to my feet so he could kiss me again. Then, he tossed me onto the bed. I sprawled there, startled but also impressed and deeply turned on by his strength and power. He walked around the side of the bed so that he stood over me, his erection jutting out, just a few centimetres from my face. I craned towards it, but he swayed back slightly, away from me. I tried again, with a more determined lunge and my lips brushed the head of it, before he edged it away again. Suddenly, he reached out, snatched a handful of my hair and held my head stock-still. In his other hand he brandished his cock, showing it to me, raising his eyebrows, grinning sardonically, before slapping me across my r
ight cheek with the length of it.

  I saw stars!

  Truly, that thing was a lethal weapon. It could probably knock someone out cold if there had been a bit more force behind it. However, as I was intent on sucking, then riding it, I was not going to be deterred by a possible mild concussion. I gazed up at him, slightly dazed but also deeply impressed, and he slapped me across my other cheek. It checked me for a moment, but then I sprang forward hungrier than ever for his cock. He tightened his grip on my hair and held me fast. ‘Beg for it,’ he growled.

  He didn’t need to ask twice. Improvisation had been one of my strong points at acting school and I turned on quite the monologue. He grinned and nodded, encouraging me, then shut me up by slamming his cock in my mouth. I choked which amused him. ‘Can’t you handle my big cock? Shall I give it to someone else?’

  I gripped him by his buttocks, sealing him against me, and began to bob up and down the length of his shaft. I’d been going at it for a few minutes when he asked a question which made me pause. ‘So what are you?’

  I had to disengage to speak. ‘Huh?’

  ‘Bi, straight or gay?’

  At first, I was confused—wasn’t it obvious? But then I realised what he wanted to hear, so I played along. ‘I just get so bored with my girlfriend,’ I confessed, stroking his cock. ‘We’ve been together for years and there’s nowhere near enough sex. She’s real timid about sucking my dick too.’

  ‘And sometimes you just need your cock sucked by … an expert,’ he suggested. ‘Or you have an urge for … other activities.’

  ‘Oh mate, you have no idea. There are some things she’d just never do.’

  ‘Yeah, I bet. Like this.’

  HotBloke sprang forward and jumped on top of me, kneeling above my head so he faced my toes. Then he leaned forward and pulled both my legs up in the air. He ran a hand over my arse and gave it an admiring slap. ‘She wouldn’t worship this, not the way I’m going to.’

  HotBloke began to peel away my underwear, murmuring his appreciation as he did so. Then he slid his cock back into my mouth, pinned my feet alongside my ears and attacked my arsehole with his tongue. He was ferocious and within seconds he had me delirious with pleasure. At one point, while he was working away, his hand crept round to cradle my cock but didn’t linger there long. Was he disappointed? He seemed to be a total arse man and I was hoping it wasn’t going to matter.

  After a few more minutes, he eased away from me to advise that he was dying to fuck me. ‘Though this feels so goddamn good, maybe I’ll just blow while I eat your straight arse.’

  Caught up in the moment, I agreed. HotBloke dived back in and I leant forward to continue sucking him, but he pushed me away and began to stroke himself. I’d kept my hand off my own dick—he had me so worked up, I was scared I’d come if I even touched it—but now I took hold of it and began to stroke. Beneath me, HotBloke began to writhe and mutter. He was close. I tightened my grip on my own cock and began to pump hard. Spasms shook HotBloke’s body and a glob of cum shot out and splattered across my chest. Four more spurts followed, none as powerful as the first, but still damn impressive. The sight of that pushed me over the edge and I shot all over his stomach.

  I collapsed alongside him and kissed him lightly on the lips, but he didn’t kiss me back. We lay there for a few minutes in silence. Finally, HotBloke sighed and sat up. ‘Oh well, I’d better get going.’

  ‘It’s okay, my girlfriend’s at work.’

  He gave me a look. Now that he’d come, that game was over. ‘Yeah work. That’s where I’m supposed to be, so I really do need to go.’

  ‘Have a shower if you like,’ I said, thinking it might be nice to lather up together.

  ‘No, I’ll do it at home. It’s so close.’

  He glanced around, discovered the box of tissues, pulled out a handful and wiped himself off. Then he stood up and pulled on his jeans. It was a very sexy sight, watching him tuck his still swollen cock away and zip up. ‘So maybe next time you can fuck me with that,’ I suggested lightly.

  ‘Yeah, sure,’ said HotBloke, looking around distracted. ‘Hey, my tee shirt?’

  ‘In the living room,’ I said, sitting up.

  ‘Oh yeah,’ he said and disappeared out the door to retrieve it.

  By the time I had cleaned myself up, pulled on my underwear and followed him out to the living room, he was fully dressed and tying up his shoelaces. He looked up at me and grinned. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘I needed that.’

  He stood up, came over and pecked me on the cheek. ‘Gotta run,’ he said, and with that, he turned and headed for the door.

  It was so quick. He was out of the apartment before I even had a chance to say goodbye. As the door thudded shut behind him, I realised that we hadn’t even exchanged our real names, let alone phone numbers to facilitate getting together again more easily. He was such a hot guy but the abruptness of his departure did rather diminish the moment. I couldn’t help feeling let down and slowly that familiar funk of feeling rejected began to lap its way towards me.

  Then I remembered that I had his e-mail address. I could write him a message, say all the things I would’ve liked to if he hadn’t bolted, and suggest another session this weekend. After I’d cleaned up and had a leisurely breakfast, I sat down at the computer to compose a message.

  Hey mate,

  So the girlfriend is going out of town this weekend to a convention which means I’m home alone. Our session this morning was awesome but now I’m regretting that we didn’t take it further. You got me so hot to be fucked and now that’s all I can think about. Why don’t you come over this weekend and finish what you started?

  CSI-Sydney (Curious, Straight, Intrigued-to-try-your cock)

  I sent the message but was so impatient for his reply that I kept running back to the computer every five minutes to check for it. Finally, I took myself downstairs to the gym to stop myself from being so obsessive. I had put my membership on hold at City Gym as I didn’t want to run into either Rick or Alejandro, and the building’s gym was perfectly adequate. I’d been working out religiously. I was determined that the next time I ran into Blake or even Alejandro, I would be looking damn good.

  When I got back upstairs, I went straight to the computer and discovered that I had one new message. It had to be him. I began to anticipate his sexy answer to my proposition. But then the message popped into my inbox and all my anticipation curdled. It wasn’t from HotBloke. It was from a Krystal Lutz, who in the subject line promised to ‘Add three inches or more to your manhood with our new enhanced pill’. I deleted the message, then went into my Sent messages folder to re-read what I had written to HotBloke. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure about what I’d said. Perhaps it had been a bad idea to persist with the whole girlfriend line. HotBloke had given me a very quizzical look post-sex when I’d continued to refer to ‘my girlfriend’.

  I felt very tempted to write him a new message, without all the bullshit. I actually sat down at the computer and began to write, when it struck me how desperate that would seem. It had been less than two hours since I’d e-mailed him. For all I knew, the guy hadn’t even received my first message, perhaps couldn’t access his personal e-mail at work. I made myself exit out of my e-mail; then for good measure, closed the computer right down. I would leave it off for the rest of the day. I was being needy and obsessive again. Though, after a few minutes, it occurred to me that at least I wasn’t obsessing over Blake, so maybe that was some sort of progress.

  Thankfully, I had an appointment to meet Dave the builder over at Ridge Street. This meeting proved to be rather amusing as we were discussing the storage space in the attic. Dave had no idea that there was a double entendre at play as he proposed ‘enlarging my manhole’ to gain access. Afterwards, I went to look at fittings for the bathroom. That took all afternoon, as I was incredibly indecisive when I had to choose such things by myself. Unfortunately, it really made me miss Blake. That night, at home, I distracted myself with cooking a
nd then watching a DVD. The computer remained off even though I felt sorely tempted to just quickly check my mail.

  The next morning, when I woke up, instead of lazing beneath the covers and making excuses not to get up as usual, I sprang out of bed. I went straight to the computer, turned it on and opened my e-mail. Three messages began to download. He had replied and I felt reassured, then excited at the prospect of what he might have written to me. But then the messages popped into my Inbox: one was from Blake; another from Qantas; and the third one from a guy I’d never heard of, a Rod Jackson, with the subject About Last Night. I was so disappointed, until I realised that Rod must be HotBloke’s real name. I cursed myself for not checking my e-mail earlier. He had wanted to get together last night. Eagerly, I opened the message, only to be most horribly disappointed. Rod Jackson was not HotBloke, but a colleague of Krystal Lutz’s spruiking the amazing benefits of their new pill. It was crushing.

  I stamped into the kitchen and began to make some breakfast. However, once the coffee was on, I started to wonder about the message from Blake. It had come with an attachment. I went back to the computer and opened his message.

  Stephen,

  We need to strike some sort of arrangement over our joint possessions. Why don’t you make a list of what you want in order of preference? I have done the same—see my attachment. Then we can negotiate from there.

  Blake

  I replied immediately, saying that my anti-virus software had deleted a suspicious message that he had sent with an attachment. Then I opened said attachment and glanced through it. I was amused to see that his pot plants headed the list.

  My coffee on the gas top began to hiss and I hurried over to turn it off. I was in no mood to read Blake’s demands. I prepared my breakfast and went out onto the balcony to eat it. However, upon taking the first spoonful of my muesli, my mouth gave a pang of protest. I stopped and withdrew the spoon. What was wrong? Cautiously, I began to stretch my mouth open and immediately the pain flared. It was very strange. I sipped my coffee and then tried again with the muesli. But once again the pain blazed and I began to feel alarmed. I dashed into the bathroom to examine my mouth. Cautiously, I opened wide which caused a sharp new spasm, but when I peered inside, I couldn’t see anything wrong. I began to feel deeply concerned. I had never experienced such symptoms before. This was nothing like a sore throat. Was it the onset of lockjaw which I had a vague idea was connected to tetanus? Though how could I possibly have contracted that? Unless it was some exotic STD I had never experienced before, some vicious new strain of throat gonorrhoea? I had certainly given HotBloke’s cock a very thorough deep-throating the day before … It was that thought that made me realise. Was it possible that I’d strained the muscles in my mouth giving HotBloke head? As I thought back on the fervour with which I’d approached the task, it began to seem more and more likely. Amused, I went back to my food and after a few bites, began to get used to the discomfort.