by Tara Spears
“I did, and we are no longer in my car.” My hand came forward and I grabbed his crotch tight enough to keep him from moving, but not tight enough to cause pain. I smiled at what I found there. “And if you continue to behave,” I said tauntingly, “I just might let you fuck me by the end of the night.”
I let him go, but not before stroking his length through his jeans to verify everything there was real. Oh, and it was. He flushed as he shucked in a breath.
“Now show me your little party, and get me a drink,” I said as I headed past him towards the house. The Firebird’s alarm chirped then he was beside me grinning somewhat ridiculously in my opinion.
As we entered the house he was greeted as any jock would be. The scene was unsavory and sensual all at the same time. I had basically walked into an orgy. Not my first. A quick perusal told me anything goes here.
Two men in their mid twenties shared an incredibly buxom brunette, while an enthusiastic gay boy blew an incredibly tense straight man. The guy looked in pain and didn’t appear to be enjoying the experience at all. To bad too, since the kid bent over him was reveling in the task. Deep-throating the guy while he humped his own hand with gusto. Girls on girls, boys on boys, along with straight threesomes and one mixed foursome near the couch. I didn’t see Tammy or Candy anywhere.
On a low glass table in the middle of the room sat a bowl of condoms. Next to it lines of coke waited, while a few used syringes lay in another shallow clay bowl. I recognized what this was, a sex club. I had been pimped to a few with rather loose morals during my earlier career under Willie.
Justin was watching me closely. I shoved my keys into the front pocket of my jeans and he sighed loosely, then led off to the bar set up in an overly bright kitchen. White linoleum, white walls, white everything except the oak cabinets and table.
“What’s your poison?” He swept his hand to the bottles on the table and counter. A voluptuous girl with purple-streaked black hair sidled up to him, demanding his attention. I grabbed a bottle of Ciroc and headed back into the living room. I might as well get drunk and maybe have a good time. Setting the bottle on the floor, I shuffled out of my jacket. I shoved it behind the back of the couch near the floor, and sat down before retrieving the bottle.
I drank and rebuffed several girls who came up to me. I didn’t miss the slightly hostile looks several patrons gave me. To them I was an interloper but that was okay. I wasn’t here to cause a ruckus, and if I stayed unassuming, they would soon forget all about me.
I continued to drink while I watched as Justin stripped down, donned a condom and began to fuck the black haired girl on the floor a few feet from me. She had a cute tattoo below her hipbone of a skull and red roses. An Ed Hardy copy I presumed.
I was sure this little act was for my benefit, so I paid attention. Why wouldn’t I? The golden boy was beautiful, and aggressive, and graceful, and surprisingly my fingers ached. I had just wanted to fuck Freddie, but I wanted to touch Justin. It was an unusual sensation.
Justin seemed to be having trouble getting off and was soon agitated and growling at the girl.
It was painful to watch, so I leaned forward. “Justin, flip her over.”
His cheeks pinked as he paused, blinking at me. More than likely stunned I had said anything, even though he knew I was watching. He finally looked back at the girl and did what I told him to. A minute or two of rear entry with his eyes locked on me had him collapsing on a deep groan. The girl on the other hand was biting her cheek, trying to be tough and hide her shock over his use of her.
Justin rose, and without a word he wandered down the hall out of sight. The girl recovered her composure, disappearing into the kitchen. My eyes sauntered around the room over the mounds of skin, and came to settle on a tiny blond sitting a few feet in front of me with her head bowed. She was dressed in a lacy white bra, panties, and garter.
I tapped her with my foot. “What do you want?” I asked her.
“To give you oral pleasure,” she replied meekly.
I worked to hide my disdain over her absurd phraseology. God, where had she matriculated from, the eighteenth century?
“All right, condom. I don’t know where your mouth has been.”
She smiled shyly, retrieving one from the bowl. Half a bottle of Ciroc and the smell of sex had awakened my libido. Watching Justin had cranked it up another notch, but I doubted this tiny thing would be able to get me off. I was willing to let her try though. The whole clean virgin thing was working for me. I took another long swig of vodka, recapped the bottle, and returned it to the floor next to the couch.
I reclined into the cushion, letting her release my half-hard dick. She fumbled with the condom then finally got it rolled on. I glanced down at her, she was blushing, and I hardened a little more. She began teasing me with her lips and tongue. She worked on me for a few minutes, her technique less than adequate, and I was getting frustrated with her.
When she went down on me, I grabbed the back of her head and pumped into her mouth. She gagged, and I pulled out then drove in again. If she offered a blow job here, she better know how to do it right. I pumped a few more times before I realized big fat tears were streaming down her face. I withdrew my cock, keeping hold of her hair as I bent down right next to her ear.
“Sweetheart, what are you doing here? You don’t belong here. Go home.” I let her go. She scrambled away, grabbing a pile of clothes on her way out the door. I peeled off the condom and shot it into the wastebasket near the entrance to the kitchen. I didn’t bother to button up my jeans.
Instead I drank until a rather burly girl with pink and fawn hair crawled over, rolled on a condom, and went to work on me without a word. I closed my eyes when she took me all the way into her throat. Promising.
Several minutes later she was no longer promising. “IT” was deflating. She was sloppy and wet, without an ounce of suck, and the girl was only going to make me sore.
“That’s enough, darling. Go play with someone else.” I waved her off.
“I tried. I’m sorry.”
I gave her a gentle nod. “I know you did, thank you.”
She crawled away on all fours. She had tried, and it was an excellent blow job any high school boy would cream his shorts for. My eyes wandered the room, and with a dejected sigh, I realized there probably wasn’t a soul at this party who could get me off. I would have to do it myself if I wanted it done, and I wasn’t about to do that here.
Chapter Nine
I tipped the bottle up against my lips, discovered it was empty and stood, tucking “IT” away. I did up the lower buttons on my jeans. Then, hauling my coat out, I threw it on as I headed through the kitchen and straight out the door for a smoke.
As I puffed appreciatively into the cool night, I glanced around. The house was rather small for the locale but it was a nice place, whoever’s it was. We were somewhere west of Eastgate and this size lot surrounded by greenbelt would be pricey to say the least. If a builder ever got his hands on the land they would level everything and squeeze six massive houses on here, ruining it.
It wasn’t as nice as Freddie’s. I liked the serenity of his place. Well, once I quit freaking out and could take a minute to enjoy it. I wondered what he was up to tonight. I grunted; disgusted with where my mind was going. Straight into, how stupid can I be territory.
I launched my smoke into the wet grass and headed back in, filching the last half bottle of Grey Goose on my way through.
Booze and live porn wasn’t a bad way to wile the rest of the evening down. Who knows, maybe I would get roused enough I could have a nice fifteen minute date with my shower when I got home. I reclaimed my perch at the end of the striped, earth-toned couch.
I had no sooner sunk my ass in, and downed a mouthful of Grey Goose, than Justin appeared before me naked as the day he was born. He was rather glorious actually. Sleek tan pecks, and abs, and muscles, oh my. His peacock-blue eyes glittered from alcohol, or possibly something stronger, and his fabulous
cock hung between strong legs. I may be sexually repressed, but I wasn’t dead.
“There’s a rumor going around your impossible to please,” he teased.
“That isn’t a rumor. I am hard to please. Even so, no one seems to be able to give a decent blow job around here.” I shrugged lightly. “It might not be me...” I giggled and took another swig. Justin’s expression grew much too serious for a man dangling what God gave him in front of me.
“I can. Give a good blow job I mean.” His fingers rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he grinned salaciously down at me. “How about a deal? I’ll blow you if I can fuck you after.”
I wagged my head no as I held up a finger. His lusty smile faltered.
“No, you have to get me off. Then you can fuck me. Only fair.” Did that sound right?
“It’s a deal.” He chuckled low, and I pointed to the bowl of never ending condoms. “Serious?” he asked.
I nodded slowly. He shrugged and grabbed a condom then knelt down between my legs, undoing the bottom buttons. “IT” surprised me and stirred when Justin took him in hand. As he rolled on the condom, I took another slug of vodka then set the bottle down.
I was a little swoony, and laughed. Me, drunk, and sex didn’t always work well. Freddie and I’s night never would have evolved into what it did, had I not been on the soberly side of drunk when we reached his house. I wasn’t on that side now.
Justin had his work cut out for him, if he could even get me all the way hard. He worked on me with the perfect precision only men seem to have for several moments then stopped. I was giggling and couldn’t seem to quit. He smiled slyly and got up. Well, his dick was hard now. It was a nice piece of equipment too. Even if he couldn’t get me off, I might have to let him fuck me anyway. Does that make me a whore? Fuck, I AM a whore. Yeah, but I didn’t usually give it away for free! I have scruples— wait that’s not right— principals damn it. Justin turned, his burly cock bounced, and I almost sighed. Fuck principals.
He dropped between my legs again, grabbed my jeans with both hands and tugged. I lifted my hips so he could slide my jeans farther down. He latched his hands behind my knees and pulled my ass half-off the couch. I just watched him, wondering what he was up too. He tore another condom open, and rolled it over his middle finger. From somewhere he produced a tube of Eros and lubed his gloved finger. His smile turned cocky. Hm, what was he... OOHH. His finger slid in as his other hand started pumping “IT”.
His face became a mask of concentration as he pushed his finger in farther. He suddenly smirked, stroked hard, and my dick leapt to attention as my insides clenched. What the fuck. Shit. No one had ever found my fucking prostate before, let alone gotten a reaction from it. Willie had torn me up, and my insides were a mash of scar tissue— but man, he could do that again if he wanted.
His mouth latched onto my dick, and I grabbed his spiky hair as he began to suck with such force I thought he might actually swallow the condom. Damn. His finger slid slowly in and out of my ass as he paid royal homage to “IT”. I realized I was holding my breath, and let it out. My hips rocked as every muscle tensed in anticipation.
His finger twisted around, searching, then he pushed that magic spot again, causing my whole body to jerk and slick with sweat. Ah... fuck... what the hell. He kept pushing and stroking as he pulled “IT” into his throat, his tongue working like a pro. I curled around him in a tense ball as the beginnings of a release coalesced threateningly.
His mouth pulled back, finger retreated, and I moaned as my body relaxed. His hand, the one not tickling my ass, caressed my hip while he nuzzled my thigh with his cheek. After a moment he sucked me in again and corkscrewed my ass. He mercilessly went after that traitorous gland I always assumed was a dead issue.
It was one big reason— out of a long list of reasons— why I didn’t care to bottom. Not to mention an ungratifying dislike of sex in general. So this was a rather unexpected surprise.
I wrapped my fingers in his hair and tugged, trying to get him off me, while my body spasmed as if I had been electrocuted. He ignored me, stroking harder with his finger. I could feel the vibrations through my back.
“Fuck, ahh... AHH.” I curled around his head as my cock exploded, and my mind exploded, and every muscle ratcheted down so tight, I thought I was going to shatter.
“Stop, stop, stop,” I pleaded, gripping his head in my hands.
He pulled his finger out, causing ripples of sensation throughout my body. Fuck, who was this guy? His mouth slid off my dick, and was replaced by a hand. He climbed up my chest then locked his lips over mine. I let him kiss, and suck on my tongue and lips as he held me until my muscles relaxed. He released “IT” as he snuggled in between me and the arm of the couch.
Jesus. Never in all my years, which experience wise made me a rather old man, had anyone gotten me off so quickly, or so completely. Damn. My legs, back, and shoulders were still trembling from the effort. I wanted to laugh but I didn’t think I had the energy.
My breathing fell back to a normal level, yet neither of us stirred for several minutes. Being a prostitute strips you of your self-respect. You can’t be a prude in my line of work. I could care less that he was naked with a throbbing hard-on thrown over my hip. Or the fact my pants were puddled around my ankles, while my legs were still spread-eagled.
Justin started kissing along my jaw, then up my neck, and ended nipping and teasing my ear lobe. His mouth left an odd tingling everywhere it touched. Very much like the fizzle of carbonation on ones tongue.
“My turn, stud,” he whispered into my ear.
It was too, but I wasn’t sure my jello’d body would let me get up right this moment. I giggled.
Then as if he read my mind, he said, “Come on, I’ll help you up. There’s a bathroom in the hall and another off the kitchen if you want to clean up.”
He ran his fingers through my hair, untangled himself, and stood up. He offered me his hands and I let him pull me onto my feet. I wavered, and Justin flung an arm around my waist, holding me until I steadied.
“I’m good,” I told him, grabbing my jeans with one hand and the bottle of Grey Goose with the other. He glanced at the bottle then back at me. He fisted my hair, pulling my head back. “Hey, let go, you’re going to pull me over.”
He grabbed the bottle, but I held fast to it. “Don’t drink that. Find something unopened,” he hissed quietly.
I looked curiously at the bottle. “Why? Did someone drug me?” I peeked through the opening, but couldn’t focus enough to see anything.
“Not you, specifically.”
“Oh.” I let him take the bottle from me and set it on the glass table. Shit. “With what?”
“Nothing major. Probably a little X.”
“Mkay, not the first time. Just make sure if I pass out who ever screws me uses a condom.”
Justin chuckled at that. “I won’t let anyone mess with you, pretty boy.” He kissed me, a quick strong wrap of lips and tongue. “Go get cleaned up and meet me outside the kitchen door.” Justin stepped away, making sure I was stable before he picked his way around bodies, and headed down the hall.
I managed to pull my jeans the rest of the way up, and retrieved my coat from the floor, all without falling over. I headed towards the kitchen. It was closer and required fewer steps, much less thought, or coordination for that matter.
Regardless of what people said about X, it didn’t mix well with alcohol. Oh you get the excited giddy high alright, then as you’re on your way down the alcohol has you crashing fast and hard. If I was lucky I would crash in my own bed. If not, well, tomorrow would be a fun day.
The bathroom combined with the laundry room and had a perfect pedestal sink, and antibacterial hand soap in a pump bottle. Discarding the condom in the wastebasket, I turned on the water to warm then took a piss. I was able to scrub myself down nice and thorough in that little sink, and even found a clean fingertip towel to dry off with in a narrow linen closet behind the door.
&nbs
p; It was either the vodka or the X acting on my brain, because I felt damn good, and my OCD appeared to be staying caged... for now. Digging out my cigs, I headed back through the kitchen and out the back door. I lit up and inhaled as I waited for Justin.
A short, tight, wrestler type with a crew cut sauntered over, hipping the railing at the bottom of the deck stairs. He blew out his smoke as he turned to me.
“You’re not the first one Justin has pulled that shit on.”
I glanced at him, taking a drag as I waiting for him to continue.
“I let him do that once. Guess one of us should have warned you. He doesn’t know when to stop. Sorry.” He sniffed, tapping his ashes to the ground, then crossed his legs and leaned his chest along the stair railing as if posing for a centerfold.
“I’m not sorry,” I admitted with a small chuckle. Justin could do that to me any fuckin’ time. As the thought passed over, I knew in my gut it was true. I’d never reacted to anyone that way, and for the first time in... well, ever, I felt like a normal guy, with normal sexual urges. It was rather elating actually.
The wrestler laughed. “Whew, you’re stronger than me. I didn’t last thirty seconds and was sore everywhere for two days. I think I even had whiplash.” He rubbed his neck absently.
“Maybe he’s related to the nurse in Road Trip.” We both laughed at my stupid joke as we smoked. It would have been even dumber if he hadn’t seen the movie.
“You’re okay, man. You can come back anytime,” he said.
“Gee... thanks,” I said dryly.
He looked up at me, his expression unreadable and bordering on unfriendly. “You don’t get it. Justin was wrong to bring you here tonight. He knew it too. We have an initiation— to protect us. A lot of pissed off people when you walked in.” He shook his head. “Not sure where you came from, but you played the game right. Acted almost bored.” He glanced up at me through narrowed eyes. “It’s not a normal response. Pretty soon everyone forgot you were here... until Justin got his hands on you that is.” His shoulders shook in a silent show of mirth. He took one last drag then dropped his butt, stepping it out under the toe of his cross-trainers before heading up the stairs.
