by Nicky James
“Yup, and I spent five seconds fixing it.” Harley rooted through a few bathroom drawers. “Don’t you have cologne?”
“No. But I think you have enough on for both of us.”
With that comment, Harley pulled a dick move and rubbed his chest against me, laughing as I tried to push him away. He wouldn’t relent.
“Here, have some.”
“Stop.” But I was laughing and losing the battle as he smeared his body against mine.
He mashed me against the wall in the bathroom and continued his pathetic cat-like advances, rubbing his smell all over me.
“Dude, seriously. I feel violated. It’s like you’re scent-marking me. Next, you’ll piss on my leg and make this way weirder.” I shoved him away, but Harley was halfway to the bathroom mirror, laughing and uncaring as he admired himself.
“You’ll have fun tonight, right? You aren’t gonna be a wallflower and let your big stupid brain talk you out of a little party action, are you?”
“I’ll have fun.”
“Don’t make me force it down your throat, because I will.”
“Whatever, let’s go.”
* * *
It was after eleven when the GPS had us turn onto a dirt road about eight miles outside of town. There were no streetlights this far into the country. I was convinced this whole party thing was bogus, and the guy holding it had scammed everyone out of a hundred and fifty bucks.
Harley had insisted on driving, but only after I’d forced him to agree to crash somewhere in the house until morning. He was a reckless guy sober, but when he drank, all thoughts of right and wrong went out the window.
The house came into view another mile down the dirt road. There was a porch light on, and over a dozen cars were parked haphazardly on the vast front lawn. It was one of those two-story century homes with narrow windows and pale beige bricks.
Strobing lights showed faintly through the downstairs windows, but they were covered, so the activities within weren’t visible.
Harley parked, and when he killed the engine, the pulsing music from inside rippled across the empty land. There were a bunch of people gathered on a deck out back, drinks in hand, laughing and talking over the music.
Harley caught my eye in the low-lit car. “Play it cool tonight. Don’t be a stiff. Have fun.”
And that was the plan. Going to parties with Harley allowed me to let down my guard. My goal was to have a few drinks, relax, and let the night happen.
“Let’s go.”
At the front door, a towering hulk of a man stopped us before we could enter. His head was shaved, and his muscles threatened the seam of his black T-shirt. He had to be six five at least.
“Names.” He sized up Harley before turning to me. I shoved my hands into my pockets and forced myself to relax.
“Harley and Denver Padovani.” Harley met the big guy’s challenging stare before the door guard checked his list.
It was an unnerving few minutes before he lifted his head again. “Yup. You’re in.” He scanned us again, a furrow in his brow. “You don’t have cameras or video recorders or anything do you?”
“Yeah, in my fucking pocket. Seriously? Where am I putting shit like that?” Harley laughed at the ridiculous notion. “Why?”
“Because we don’t want anyone recording or taking pictures of what’s going on. What happens inside stays inside.”
Harley squared his shoulders, trying to match the guy’s height. He did not succeed. “Well, I don’t even own that kinda shit. So, let up, man. This better be worth it.”
The man’s face shifted into a wicked grin. “Oh, trust me. It’s all worth it.”
What the hell had Harley gotten us into?
I wasn’t prepared for what I found inside.
It was a whole other world. The main floor was dark with strobing lights that pulsed in time with the deep bass of the music. People gathered in the vast front room where the furniture had been shifted around to make it more accommodating.
There was a kitchen separated by a breakfast bar that was littered with dozens of bottles of alcohol in every variety I could imagine. Beyond were more people, and the counters were filled with god only knew what. Food by the look of it.
As I scanned the space, a guy popped out of nowhere and greeted my brother. “Hey, man. You made it.”
Harley and the guy shook hands, both of them wearing matching devious grins. “Ramon, this is my brother, Denver. Den, this is Ramon, our host with the most.”
I shook the guy’s hand, reminding myself a dozen times to act cool. Harley was never uptight, and I didn’t want to be either.
“All right. We’ve got a full bar lined up on the counter over there.” Ramon waved a hand. “Down that hall, first door on the right, you’ve got my personal fun room. All the extras you could want, you know what I mean? Believe me when I tell you, I got only the good stuff. Top-notch.” He slapped Harley’s arm, and they shared conspiratorial smiles.
Ramon pointed at an area near the back of the house off the kitchen. “That way to the back deck. You wanna smoke, take it outside. You find something in my special little fun room down the hall to smoke, again, take it outside.”
“No problem.” Harley rubbed his palms together, and I could tell he wanted loose to explore.
“One last thing.” Ramon huddled us closer, smile broadening. “For now—because god knows it won’t stay contained all night once people get revved up—the best fun of all is down in the basement, so grab a drink, visit the fun room for a hit or whatever you need, and head that way.”
“Nice. Dude, this is fucking awesome as shit.”
“I told you, I know how to throw a party.”
With that, Ramon took off, and Harley slapped my shoulder. “We’re gonna have fun tonight, but first, we need to loosen you up. Bar or fun room?” He gestured at both, cocking his brow as he waited for me to answer.
“Shots first.” I knew myself well enough to know alcohol was the best way to relax and fit in. I wasn’t a fan of recreational drugs like Harley. Alcohol did the job just fine. It never took much. A few shots were always enough to free my inhibitions so I could appreciate a good time on Harley’s level.
Harley didn’t have the same issues. He was born with an urge to be reckless and seek trouble.
We headed to the breakfast bar where large stacks of plastic cups and shot glasses were piled high. On the ground were ice chests filled with mixers and a huge garbage pail brimming with ice and a scoop.
Harley grabbed four shot glasses and scanned the array of liquors before selecting the large bottle of Goldschläger and presenting it to me. “Yeah?”
“Hit me.”
He topped the shot glasses until they were brimming and held two up, the liquid sloshing over the lip. “To a fun night of letting loose.”
We knocked them back and immediately took the second set as well. The warmth coated my belly, and a blast of cinnamon danced on my tongue.
Harley refilled two of the shot glasses and handed me one. When I hesitated, knowing it was going to hit me like a truck if I wasn’t careful, he scowled. “Take the fucking shot, Den. I want you with me tonight.” He flicked my forehead. “Turn this off and stop worrying for once.”
I took the shot. Harley was right. The last thing I wanted was for my brain to get in the way of a good time. We’d partied together plenty, and he knew as well as I did that it took a few drinks before I could allow myself to relax.
While I absorbed the bleeding warmth of the third shot, letting it heat my veins, Harley mixed us a couple of drinks to sip at a slower rate. I didn’t watch what he made, but it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t long before the cushion of alcohol dampened the music and eased the strain in my muscles. Harley noticed and clapped my shoulder as we moved around the room. “There you go. Now you’re smiling. Feel good?”
I did. Blissfully tranquil and without a care in the world. This was how Harley felt every day. Why couldn’t I be like
this? Why did I let everyone and everything get to me so much?
I responded with a wider grin and bumped his shoulder as I held up my red plastic cup. “Cheers. To a night of letting it all go.”
Chapter Three
Harley
An hour later, Denver was good and drunk, flirting with some blond guy on the other side of the front room. Denver was the happiest drunk I knew. Life strangled him most days, and he kept himself from relaxing and having fun. It wasn’t that I forced my wild lifestyle on him, but he seemed to yearn for some freedom from his stringent routines and constricting, self-made rules from time to time.
I simply offered him a means to explore—an escape from the noose our parents had wrapped around his neck years ago because he was the oldest. It was Denver’s duty to be a role model and make them proud.
He’d had enough happy juice earlier he was mingling and chatting and no longer hanging off my arm. At this rate, he was gonna get some nice drunken release from his problems.
I knew he wasn’t a huge fan of recreational drugs and preferred sticking to alcohol, so while he was busy, I wandered to Ramon’s fun room by myself.
People were making out in the hallway—two women with their tongues down each other’s throats and their hands down each other’s pants. The other couple was a guy and girl, but they seemed just this side of stripping and letting loose as well.
I passed a bathroom on my left. A guy was getting a blowjob, clinging to the counter with white knuckles, head tilted back in ecstasy. They hadn’t bothered closing the door. They didn’t care. The chick on her knees smiled at me from around the cock in her mouth before pulling off with a wet slurp. “You want a turn, baby? You can be next.”
It was enticing, but I had one goal at the moment, and it was to get high. “Maybe in a minute.” I winked and found a door with a handwritten sign telling me I was in the right spot.
I let myself in and found a handful of people hanging out on couches, lost in their own worlds, enjoying the trips they’d found. Although I’d come for some X, a party favorite of mine, a darker-skinned man with alluring lips and come-fuck-me eyes crowded me against a wall, rubbing my cock through my pants once before tipping his chin at the small table by the wall. “That shit is the fucking good stuff. I swear it. Heaven, man. Makes me wanna fuck so bad. You should try it.”
He was distracted a second later by another guy in the room who was rolling joints in the corner. “Eugene, hands off, for fuck’s sake. Come on, let’s go outside.”
Eugene, or Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome as I wanted to refer to him, pouted and scanned me once before shrugging. “Maybe later, sexy.”
I’d done coke plenty. It wasn’t my go-to since I hated the way it irritated my nose, and it was pricey compared to other party favorites, but I was past the point of caring. Plus, we’d paid a good dime for this party. I might as well enjoy the goods, so I took Eugene’s suggestion.
Once I had a few lines in me, and the fire and full-body tingle were electrifying my insides, I rejoined the party in the main room. Coke made me horny, like Eugene, and the instant it hit my bloodstream, my dick ached for attention.
The couple in the bathroom were long gone, and I didn’t see the girl anywhere. It didn’t matter. There was a house full of available options, and I knew I wasn’t the only one looking for a good time tonight. This crowd seemed pretty loose.
Denver was nowhere to be seen, so I assumed he and his guy friend had found somewhere to have their own fun together. Good. Denver needed that. Unconcerned over my brother’s whereabouts, I made my way to the basement door where Ramon promised a world of entertainment awaited.
He wasn’t kidding.
What I found in the large rec room downstairs made my mouth water and turned my semi-aroused cock to steel in an instant. It was the stuff dreams were made of. My dreams, anyway.
Men fucking women. Men fucking men. Women on their knees. Men on their knees. People bent over the couches, chairs, tables, or up against the walls. Groups of people all playing together; fucking, sucking, sharing, swapping. One guy seemed to be the center of attention. He was this cute little twink, and he was getting his ass pounded by this hairy, lumberjack looking guy while this cute blond girl sucked him off, her rosy lips straining around his erection.
A brunette on the couch screamed with her orgasm, arching her back as the two guys eating her out jerked each other off. In a flash, guy number one went to his knees and took a face full of cum from guy number two. Then everyone changed positions or swapped groups.
It was insane. Intense. It was all my porn fantasies come to life.
In a darker corner was a huge cushy chair. Two guys were getting it on. The one draped over the back of the chair I couldn’t see very well, but he was getting drilled so hard the chair jarred in tiny increments across the floor.
The running lights along the ceiling were dimmed down to their lowest setting, giving the room a dingy, backroom effect.
Moans and the slapping of skin filled my ears. The music from upstairs felt like a distant wave on the periphery of this new room. Maybe it was the coke, or perhaps it was the stimulation of senses, but I was floating in the most blissful place imaginable.
I rubbed myself through my jeans, needing to let loose and get my dick wet somewhere. I didn’t care where at this point. I just needed to come.
No limits. Just like Ramon had promised. These people were all about the “anything goes” motto.
The room reeked of sex and sweat and cum. It was euphoric. My blood was on fire. The energy seeping through my veins snapped and popped and tingled.
I could go either way when it came to sex. I’d fucked an equal share of men and women since I’d started college last year. With guys, I could top or bottom. College had given me freedom I hadn’t known existed, and there was no stopping the blazing urge blooming through my core, telling me to jump in and join the party.
Scanning my options, I chose the twink getting pounded by the bear. Maybe the girl on her knees needed a break or help. Maybe she wanted fucked while doing her due diligence to get the twink off.
Before I got two steps into the room, the guy on the cushy chair in the corner made a strangled noise before crying out at the top of his lungs and coming so hard his voice broke. People took notice. How could they not?
The voice was far too familiar, and I stopped walking to watch the pair, trying to make them out in the low-lit room. It was only then I realized the guy doing the fucking was the cute blond my brother had been flirting with upstairs. Which meant … the guy screaming his orgasm was Denver.
I stalled. There was far too much alcohol and other things swamping my system for me to flee. The little part of my brain that said it was beyond weird watching my brother get his ass fucked was hardly active. Besides, it wasn’t a big deal. It was a fucking party, and he was enjoying himself.
Who cared, right?
With my momentum temporarily halted, I stood back and watched as the blond pulled out and encouraged my brother to his knees on the floor. The blond tore off the condom and hooked a thumb inside Denver’s mouth, pushing his cock inside and fucking his throat. It was fast and furious, and the little noises of pleasure floating in the air made my blood tingle. It might have been Denver, but the act itself was fucking hot.
The blond grabbed Denver’s hair and punished his mouth with brutal movements until he screamed and came as well. I expected Denver to choke or sputter—maybe somewhere in my mind I thought my brother was too prudish to swallow—but he didn’t. His throat muscles worked, and he took every drop the blond gave. Hungrily. Eagerly.
They’d attracted a crowd.
A few people had moved toward them, and when the blond pulled out, he took Denver’s face in his hands and said something I couldn’t hear.
Denver glanced around and nodded with a wicked grin.
A burly guy, who already had his cock out, gave himself a few jerks, obviously next in line. But when the blond pulled something
from his pocket—a small black bottle—and tipped a pill into his hand, holding it to my brother’s lips, I jolted forward.
“Hey! Stop.”
The few people surrounding Denver all turned to me.
If Denver was shocked at my sudden appearance, he didn’t show it. A lazy grin filled his face. “Hey, Harley. This party is fucking amazing.”
“It is.” I gestured to the pill in the blond’s hand. “He doesn’t need that.”
“What do you care, buddy?”
“I know my brother, and I know he hates recreational drugs, so whatever it is, forget it. He’s happy and willing enough already. You don’t need to fuck him up more.”
“Dude’s your brother?” another guy asked. It was the lumberjack who’d been plowing the twink earlier.
“Yeah, so? You got a problem with that?”
“Nah, it’s just… Wasn’t it weird watching your brother like that?”
I eyed Denver who was still on his knees. His eyes were glued to me, but he didn’t show an ounce of apprehension or disgust at my being there.
“What do I care? He’s having fun. That’s why we’re here, ain’t it?” I examined Denver again. His eyes were glassy, but he was smiling. I crouched to be at his level, ensuring I had his full attention. “Are you okay with me being here? Is it weird? Do you want me to leave?”
“No way. This is the best party ever.” His hooded attention slipped to the erection straining my jeans. “Besides, you look like you need some fun. Why would I kick you out?”
I chuckled. “I was just about to do that, but you kinda surprised me, finding you down here. On your knees. Sucking cock like a badass motherfucker.”
His grin grew wider. “I like being on my knees. Bet you didn’t know that.”
I shook my head, laughing. “No, I didn’t. Are you okay with what’s happening?”
“Definitely. Don’t kill my buzz. I have a line. Are you staying for some fun?”
“Why not?”
“Are you gonna watch me?”
The question gave me pause. It wasn’t like I could hide from him. The room wasn’t that big. If he was as vocal as he’d shown a few minutes ago, there would be no missing him exploring the crowd.
