3 comments/ 20604 views/ 3 favorites The Last Straw By: BondiLisa Another flash of lightning outside drew Sarah out of her reverie. She didn't have to wait long for the inevitable crash of thunder. As she suspected the storm was drawing nearer. It seemed to be growing stronger as well. By the time she got home she would be in the middle of it, and it would very likely be at its peak as well. It was fitting. The rain and the thunder fitted her mood perfectly. When she arrived home she would unleash the fury of her own storm. If he was even there. Stood up on Valentine's Day. By her husband, no less. "Sorry darling," his message read, "I'm stuck at work and running late. I'll be with you soon." It was hours since she'd received that message and there was still no sign of him. How long had it been since the last time they had had a romantic evening together? She couldn't remember, it was that long ago. She didn't ask for much, one night. Just one night a year. But he couldn't even schedule her in for one night. It was the worst night of the year to be alone in a restaurant. Watching all of the happy couples fed her fury. Seeing the looks in their eyes as they gazed at one another across the tables was enough to make her puke. Sarah wanted to be one of those couples, desperately. As it was she sat in the restaurant alone, humiliated and embarrassed. The waiter was sweet to her. He'd brought her little nibbles from the tasting menu now and then. He was always cheerful, always had a smile for her. As hard as he was trying to make her feel better, it almost made it worse. She was exposed and all the world could see what a sham her marriage had become. Lightning lit the room again and the lights went out. Moments later there was a crash in the kitchen, followed by hysterical laughter. The lights came up again as thunder rolled overhead. Just like that she made her decision. It was over. Like a flash of lightning the conviction struck her. She couldn't live like this anymore, she needed her husband to be... what? Her husband! Damn it, she needed her husband to be with her. "Can I get the bill, please," she said as the waiter went past. "Of course," he replied, a sympathetic look on his face. Another damned sympathetic look. The waiter returned moments later with the bill. As he handed it to her, he said, "I am so sorry your husband is not here. But if you wait just a little longer, maybe you could come dancing with me instead? My shift ends in twenty minutes. What do you say?" "That's very kind, I'm sure your heart's in the right place, but I really don't need your pity." "It's not pity. Any man would be thrilled to dance with you, I know I would. Take a chance, have a little fun, god knows you've earned it tonight." She almost smiled, "Thank you, you're very sweet, but I don't think I'm in the mood anymore." "Alright, but if you change your mind, let me know. The offer's still open." Sarah watched him as he walked away. She remembered what it was like to be young and spontaneous. Years ago she would have taken him up on the offer, just dropped her plans on a whim, and gone dancing. Not anymore though. She watched the storm for a few minutes more, savouring the memory of the waiter's invitation. She realized suddenly that she wasn't old, not even thirty yet, not for a few months more anyway. She hadn't grown old, she had grown boring. Her husband's work had aged them both prematurely. His obsession with appearances had made them both dull. "Excuse me," she called out. The waiter heard her from across the dining room, he turned and left the people he was serving, leaving them looking surprised, and more than a little miffed. "What can I do for you, ma'am?" he asked, with a smile that showed genuine happiness. "Have you changed your mind?" Sarah was completely disarmed by his charming grin. He beamed at her, and his smile was infectious. She couldn't stop herself from smiling as she said, "Well, you can stop calling me ma'am for one thing, my name's Sarah. And yes, I have changed my mind, I'd love to go dancing with you." "Well, Sarah, I'm pleased to meet you, and I'll be very happy to take you dancing. My name's Tim by the way." "I think you should serve that couple. I wouldn't want you to get fired." Tim's smile had continued to grow, and now it looked like his face might crack open. He looked back at the couple he had left so abruptly. "Oh, they look pissed don't they? Excuse me." He returned moments later with a small glass of wine. "My treat, it's a sweet little dessert wine. I hope you like it." Later, he returned. Sarah almost didn't recognise him – he had changed his clothes. A nice shirt, much more colourful, more stylish, than her husband would wear, and the matching pants were tighter than her husband would wear as well. He had a cute arse. Pinchable, she thought, with an internal giggle. Maybe she was a little tipsy after the dessert wine. Not to mention the bottle of champagne she had had to drink all on her own. "Let's go," he said, offering his hand to her. She accepted his hand, and his chivalrous assistance in getting out of her chair. She noticed he kept hold of her hand as they walked out of the restaurant. She liked the feeling, it was nice to feel a little affection again. How long has it been since Robert just held my hand? she wondered. The rain was coming down in cats and dogs outside and they huddled under the restaurant's awning. When Tim spotted a taxi he waved frantically, hoping to be seen through the rain and dark. His waving was to no avail. Almost too late he rushed out from what little shelter they had from the storm and hailed the taxi to a stop. He opened the rear door and called to Sarah. When she realised that Tim was going to stand in the rain and hold the door for her, she ran to the taxi and entered as quickly as she could. Tim wasn't far behind. "You're soaked," she said, bursting into laughter, "You look like a drowned rat." "I must look a sight!" he said, laughing along with her. "No one's held a door open for me for a long time," she said. "Especially not in the pouring rain." "I didn't want your lovely dress to get ruined," he said. "You look beautiful you know." He was sweet, he was attentive. Under different circumstances Sarah could fall for Tim, if he wasn't so much younger than her, that is. As it was, she was enjoying the attention. Somehow the storm had taken on a different tone in just the few minutes she had spent with him. It closed them into their own little world, it shut out everyone else, and kept her safe from her unhappy reality. The taxi dropped them at a notorious night club on Oxford Street. When Sarah realised where Tim was taking her she tried to back out. "Oh, no," she said, "I can't go here." "Why not, it's just a club?" "I've heard about this place!" "See, it's famous!" he answered, grinning. "We're going to have fun. It's your night off, a night to kick back, and let your hair down. No limits, just for one night." His enthusiasm was infectious. "Why not?" she said. "A little spontaneity never hurt anyone!" They went to the down stairs dance bar. Apparently, even Oxford Street celebrates Valentine's Day – the lights that were spinning and flashing were shaped like hearts. The dance floor was crowded with people. Tim took Sarah by the hand and led her out into the sea of bodies. Sarah was a little self conscious dancing with Tim. It had been a long time since she had danced, and Tim was good, very good. He had a great sense of rhythm and his whole body moved to the beat. He was graceful and powerful at the same time. As if he could sense her unease, Tim took her hands in his. He used her hands to guide her movements, to draw her forward first with one hand and then the other. With her hands he lifted her shoulders in time to the music. When he put a hand on her hip she blushed all the way from her breasts to her cheeks, but her chagrin was hidden in the pink glow of the lighting. He used the hand to guide the movement of her hips. It wasn't long before everything combined and Sarah finally relaxed, really relaxed and let the music take her. Tim sensed the changes taking place in Sarah and he guided her through some turns, lifting one arm above her head and turning her with the hand on her hip. She was enjoying dancing again, enjoying losing herself in the music and the touch of the man she danced with. The tempo of the music changed through the night. Sometimes slow, and sometimes fast, but dancing with Tim it was always sensuous. They were in contact through every song. The first time when he brought her into his arms after a turn she was uncomfortable, but she quickly relaxed in his embrace, and even came to enjoy his touch. Once Sarah was comfortable dancing, Tim removed his sodden shirt and hooked it in his pants. Sarah was a little shocked at first, but when she noticed that he wasn't the only man dancing without a shirt she relaxed. She found her eyes drawn to the play of muscles in his chest and stomach. She couldn't help but wonder what those muscles would feel like as they tensed and then relaxed. She put her hand on Tim's bicep. As he danced it alternated between being hard and soft, depending on how he was moving. It was sexy feeling the muscles move under his skin. She let her hand wander up to his shoulder and down over his chest and stomach. His body was hard, strong, she could feel the muscles under his skin flex as he moved. She put her other hand on his hip, and before long was running both of her hands over his body. Tim's own hands were on her body, touching her, causing tingles to run all over her skin. Their hands danced over each other's bodies as their bodies moved to the music. She was shocked the first time Tim's hand passed over her breast. He's feeling me up, she thought, even as her nipple responded and stiffened. She realized she was doing the same, running her hands all over his body as well. She didn't care, after all, Tim had said, "No limits," and she was coming to enjoy letting go for a night. Tim took her in his arms and kissed her. She opened herself to him, letting his tongue enter her mouth, letting it explore her. She pressed her body up against him as his hands ran up and down her back, over her arse and her thighs. It felt so right. But it was wrong. She pushed him away and took a step back. "I'm sorry," she said. Even though she knew he couldn't hear her over the music. Sarah walked away, towards the exit. When Tim caught up with her he took her hand and turned her to face him. The music was still too loud for words, so he took her in his arms again and kissed her. Again she opened her mouth and let their tongues meet. She wanted him, he knew she did, and he wanted her. But it couldn't be. She turned away again, holding his hand in hers, and leading him to the exit. Once outside with the storm raging around them again she put her arms around him and held him close, with her head on his shoulder. He stroked her head with one hand and held her in a firm grip with the other arm. She knew he understood. She wanted him, but it couldn't be. "I can't," she said, "I wish I could, but I can't." "I know," he said. "I'm going to leave him you know," she said. "Tonight was the last straw. I've tried so many times to talk to him, to understand what has happened with us." "Is he cheating on you?" he asked. "I don't know. Does it matter? Whether he's working late or he's fucking his assistant, I know where I am on his list of priorities. Right at the bottom." "I'd like to see you again, Sarah." "That can't happen." "But you're leaving him, you'll be free." "My life's going to get complicated, I don't think it would be a good idea to complicate it even more. I'm sorry. I wish I could." "Then tonight. Come home with me tonight. Let us have tonight. It's over with him anyway." "No," she said, "no, it's just not something I can do." "Alright, I wish you would, but I admire your resolve anyway." A cab was passing and he hailed it down for her. He held the door open, and their eyes met and locked as she got in. Once she was in, she took his hand and pulled him in after her. He sat down beside her and she embraced him and kissed him passionately, deeply. The driver waited patiently, for a little while. "Where to?" he eventually asked. They ended their kiss, and Tim asked her, "Where do you live?" "Tell him your place, I want to go home with you." Tim didn't hesitate in telling the driver where to take them. On the ride home they touched and kissed, and Tim whispered in Sarah's ear all of the things he wanted to do with her. "When I get you home," he said, "I'm going to undo that dress and let it slowly slide down your body, gradually revealing your whole body to me as it falls to the floor. "Then I'll undo your bra, and let it fall on top of your dress. I'll look at your body, at your bare breasts as your chest heaves, and they rise and fall, and you wish for me to touch you. "I won't though, not yet, I'll absorb every detail of you, every curve, every pretty little freckle. I'll drink you in with my eyes so I'll always remember the way you looked tonight. "Then I'll take a piece of ice and put it lightly on your stomach. I'll run it up your stomach, between your breasts, along your collar bone and up your neck to just beneath your ear. The heat of your body will melt the ice much too fast, but not before I run it back down your body, and over your breast, pausing for a moment on your nipple, exciting it with the cold, making it hard and pointy. "Your hot nipple will melt the ice then, but I'll take another piece and continue to move it all over your body. From your mound to the hollow between your collar bones. And wherever the ice goes my tongue will follow. You'll feel the cold of the ice on your skin and then the heat of my tongue following it. Cold and then hot. Driving you wild with desire. "Just when you don't think you can take it any more I'll take another piece of ice and put it on your mound. Ever so slowly, I'll slide it downwards, ever closer to your lips and your pussy. I'll kneel in front of you and lower your panties with my teeth as the ice comes closer and closer to your secret bits. "I'll run the ice over your lips and follow it with my tongue again. The water from the melting ice will mix with your juices on my tongue, and I'll know the sweetest taste there ever was. "Here we are," the driver said, shocking them both out of their private world. Sarah went to pay, but Tim wouldn't let her. She felt a pang of guilt, but it was such a chivalrous gesture she could insist. When the car drove away, she asked him, "Are you really going to do all of those things to me?" "Oh yes, baby, all that and so much more! I want to taste every part of you, I want to kiss every square centimetre, I'm not going to let you go home until I've touched every single bit of you." "Mmmmmm," she said, "that sounds yummy. What are we waiting for?" He put his arm around her and led her up to his apartment. Once inside he led her to the kitchen, when he filled up a tray with ice. "Do you think you have enough?" she asked. "No," he said, "you're so hot, you'll melt this in seconds. It's all I've got though, so I'm going to do the best I can." He stepped over to her and undid her dress, letting it fall to the floor as promised. Her bra joined the dress moments later. Sarah was a little self conscious, it had been years since a man, other than Robert, had seen her like this. Tim kissed her quickly, then swept her up in his arms. He carried both her and the ice to his bedroom. He placed the ice carefully on a bedside table, then unceremoniously threw Sarah on the bed. She squealed as she flew through the air, and giggled uncontrollably when she landed. Then he began with the ice. It wasn't quite as he predicted, he had a piece in each hand, and he ran them all over her front, her stomach, her thighs, her breasts, her neck, her throat, especially her throat. At the same time he ran his tongue all over her body as well. Heat and cold. No sooner would goose bumps rise from the cold than his tongue would come and warm the area, causing a whole new set of goose bumps to rise. He would tease her, running the ice and his tongue under the elastic of her panties. His tongue would lift them and strain for access to her moist, sensual centre. He tried everywhere, at the waist band, at the elastic on her groin, all to no avail. Eventually, he straddled her knees and placed his hands on her hips, on the line of her panties. He began to lower his hands, taking her panties with them. Sarah lifted her hips to let them slide down over her arse. He had wondered whether she would cooperate, or just let him have his way. Here she was cooperating, actively, and it excited him. When he had her panties almost as far as her knees she raised her legs up to her chest so he could take them the rest of the way. When she lifted her knees he was treated to a beautiful view of her pussy and puckered anus. He threw her underwear across the room and lowered her legs. One on each side of him. Parted. Open. Her pussy was barely hidden behind a light covering of hair. He put his hands on her knees and moved them further apart. As her legs spread so did her lips, exposing the slightest hint of her moistly glistening interior. He reached over for more ice and then slowly lowered his mouth to her pussy. He ran the ice and his tongue around her thighs and across her lips. He circled her pussy, drawing smaller and smaller rings, that were alternately cold and then hot. When eventually the ice had melted, his tongue met her clitoris for the first time. It was like an electric shock passing through her body. When he began to lick her clit in earnest she wasn't sure she would be able to take it. She was about to stop him several times, but was overpowered by the glorious pleasure on each occasion. Without even knowing it she was thrusting her hips into the air, pressing her clitoris against his tongue as hard as she possibly could. She began to cum under the incredible workings of his beautifully naughty tongue. For a moment she was embarrassed when she felt her juices flowing, but only for a moment, it just felt too good to waste time being embarrassed. Her juices flowed and her back arched. She came until she was dizzy and oh so sensitive. She needed to tell him to stop but she couldn't form words, eventually she pushed him away with her hand. He knew what she was feeling and moved up the bed, covering her body with his. He slid his hand down between them to guide himself into her. This was the moment, this was the line, if she crossed it there could never be any coming back. God, yes, she wanted to cross it. She lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. She wanted to open herself to him and have him inside her. She toyed with the idea of taking her wedding ring off, but she kept it on, she wanted it to be a witness to everything that was about to happen. She was free, finally free, and living once again. An amazing sensation entered her pussy. Ice. And then his hot shaft entered her right after. Freezing cold numbing her, and his hot cock warming her immediately after. The ice quickly melted, but the feeling of both hot and cold inside at the same time was mind blowing. God, he felt good inside her. His deep thrusts bringing more and more pleasure upon her as they grew faster and faster, more and more powerful. Her hands on his back could feel the muscles under his skin. His stomach was firm and solid as it pressed against hers. She opened her eyes to look at him, but could see only the barest outline in the dark. Until the lightning struck, lighting the room up for the barest instant. It was enough to have his face and body imprinted on her retina, so that even after the light was gone she could still see the ecstasy on his face. When the thunder came so did she. She rode the storm with him, feeling the ecstasy of the tempest again and again as she came over and over. Until finally his muscles all constricted and he heaved his cock into her deeply and released his load into her depths, shot after shot, his muscles heaving with each convulsion of his cock. The Last Straw Afterwards they lay together, glowing. Their sweat mingled and their laboured breaths came together. Soon she would have to leave, to face the storm outside and the one soon to come at home. Until then though, she could lie in Tim's arms happy and secure. An illusion, maybe, but good enough for right now. The Last Straw "Oh, Chris," tutted Geoff as he stepped into the car. "You could at least have shaven." "I did shave," protested Chris. He put the car into drive. "Like three days ago." He looked at his friend, who wore a bright orange tank top, Speedos, and flip-flops. Comparatively, Chris felt like a schlub in the board shorts he got for $10 on clearance at Old Navy. But then, he never really knew how to dress himself; he was used to putting on jeans and a flannel shirt and calling it a day. He currently sported a wife beater, ratty baseball cap, swim trunks, and sneakers, eliciting a look of derision from his friend, who for his part had spent $100 on the new designer swimsuit that was practically vacuum-sealed to his package. "People are going to think you're my straight older brother or something. Why were you late, anyway? You were supposed to be here twenty minutes ago." "Game went into extra innings." "Oh my god, do you hear what you're saying? You're like a parody of yourself. Well, lucky for you I don't mind having a little extra time to get ready and have a couple cocktails. Sigh. Chris, you're so handsome; I will never understand why you insist on showing up to these parties, which you know are full of eligible bachelors, looking like you just rolled out of... well, I don't even know where." "You know I don't like going to these things," complained Chris. "I never have anything in common with anybody. I always wind up getting drunk by myself while you go off and fuck some hot guy.' "You could be fucking hot guys, too! You look great naked." "You've never seen me naked!" "I'm trying to be positive, here! Chris, you're cute, funny, and you have a... well, your body is just fine. Plus you have a great ass, and I can see that even with your clothes on." "I don't bottom." "Well maybe you should start! You're twenty-eight, for goodness' sake. You need to stop being such a grumpy bear about everything." "Hey, I'm not a bear." "Keep drinking all that beer and you will be. You know, the cocktails I made tonight were just 70 calories each. And they tasted like pink lemonade!" "I think I'll stick with the beer." Chris patted his friend on the shoulder and smiled. Geoff squeezed his friend's hand. ... Chris was always uncomfortable at these things. He sat awkwardly in the hot tub, rapidly draining his fifth beer. He winced and looked at the label on the bottle. "Only 64 Calories!" it proclaimed. That was another thing he hated about these parties: they always served the worst beer. He had only come at Geoff's insistence. "Come on," he had said, "you haven't gotten laid in months, and I'm the only gay friend you have." Chris couldn't argue; he hadn't gotten laid in far too long. Naturally, Geoff had left Chris to his own devices some five minutes after arriving. He was currently engaged in conversation with a guy whose shoulders were the size of cantaloupes and whose Speedo looked like it was about to burst open. Chris sighed. He looked down at his own body, barely visible through the bubbles that coated the surface of the hot water. Chris wasn't in bad shape; just average. He made it to the gym about once a week. Fine; once every two. He was a sizeable guy, though. 6'2", with long arms and legs and big hands and feet. And, he had to admit, a big ass. He had a good amount of light brown hair covering his chest, narrowing to a trail that led down his stomach into his baggy board shorts. That was another thing: it always seemed like every other gay guy at these patio parties wore swim suits comprised of less fabric than the napkin his beer sat on. Said beer was disappointingly light in his hand. He looked; empty. He threw his head back and exhaled. Now he was going to have to get out of the tub. He rose slowly and lifted his legs out of the tub. His drenched board shorts sat low on his hips. He sauntered over to the cooler and opened it. He ran his hands through the ice. Come on, he thought, just one real beer, please? None. He sighed and grabbed three of the light "beers." No point in getting out of the tub if he didn't have to. He plopped himself back down into the hot tub, relishing the feel of the water jet against his chest, and popped open a bottle. "Having a good time?" Chris looked up. A thin, toned guy stood at the edge of the hot tub. Even from Chris' vantage point, the guy looked to be on the short side. He wore a pair of lime green Speedo-type swim trunks that barely covered him. His chest was hairless. He looked young generally and had dirty blonde hair. "Uh, I guess so." The guy stepped into the tub and sat next to Chris. "I'm Jamie. You looked lonely." "Just bored, really." Huh, thought Chris. Jamie seemed to be a typical, twinky, zero-body-fat type of guy. Chris wondered if Jamie was interested in him, and if so, why. Almost suspicious. Jesus, Chris, he though to himself. No wonder you never get laid. Just relax. "Oh, uh, I'm Chris." He extended his hand to shake Jamie's. Smooth, he thought to himself, and cringed internally. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Chris." Jamie shook the extended hand. "Are you here alone?" "No, I'm actually here with..." Chris scanned the party for Geoff. He saw his friend across the patio, his barely-clad ass gyrating as he made out with his former conversation partner. "A friend. What about you?" "I'm new in town. I don't know many of these guys aside from the host. You, uh, seemed to be the one person even more out-of-place than I am." Chris chuckled, "Yeah, thanks. You're right, though. These parties aren't really my scene." "Oh, come on. There are, like, almost thirty guys here, you can't tell me that you can't start up a conversation with any of them." "You got me. I'm just lazy." Chris smiled, and they both laughed. Was this guy flirting with him? Huh. Suddenly the attention of both guys was stolen by a commotion across the patio. "Come on, bitches!" a party-goer shouted. "Let's see some ass!" With that, the drunk party guest stripped off his tight, boxy swim trunks and ran naked toward the pool that sat at the bottom of the patio steps. Cool water droplets from the pool landed on Chris' bare chest in the wake of the young man's cannonball. He sank a bit deeper into the hot tub to shield himself. Jamie shielded himself with his hands. The young man's actions had a domino effect among the rest of the party guests, who were hollering and dropping their own swimsuits as they ran to join their friend in the pool. Chris looked and saw Geoff's bare ass before it disappeared into a spray of foam as his friend hit the water. He finished the first of his round of three beers. He looked to Jamie, who was elated. "Come on!" said Jamie, turning again to face Chris. "Let's join them!" "Oh no. This is what I mean when I say these things aren't my scene. You can go have fun if you want, but I'm not flashing my fat ass in front of a pool of twinks. I'm gonna stay here, warm and cozy with my beer." "Oh, come on. It'll be fun! Plus, I, uh, was kind of checking you out earlier, and you look like you have a great ass." Jamie moved closer to Chris, his arm pressing against him. He put a hand on Chris' chest and gave him a light kiss. Chris was taken aback. "I... uh, that was nice." "We can do more if you come in the pool with me. Here, I'll go first." Jamie put his arms beneath the bubbles. When they emerged, his hand held the lime green swim trunks. Jamie threw his suit across the patio. He gave Chris a seductive look. Chris was still caught off guard. "Wow. That's uh... wow. Yeah, I'm not doing that." Jamie again placed a hand on Chris' hairy chest. Chris could feel the boy's bare leg press against his. Jamie again kissed him. "Come on," Jamie said softly, rubbing Chris' chest. "You're the hottest one here; why not let everybody see it? All you have to do is..." Jamie pulled the drawstring that held Chris' board shorts closed, undoing the knot. "H-hey now..." stammered Chris. Can't we just stay here and, uh, make out or whatever?" Jamie gave him a devilish look. "Mm. Stubborn. I can deal with stubborn. We'll do it your way. But, uh, if we're going to stay here, can you be a gentleman and go get me a beer?" Another kiss. Chris smiled at him. Maybe this party wouldn't be such a waste, after all. He rose and looked toward the pool. For all the foam and spray, he could barely make out the naked figures splashing around. Squinting, he thought he saw Geoff riding naked on the shoulders of the guy from before. Good for hi- "HEY!" Distracted by the commotion in the pool, Chris hadn't noticed that Jamie had shifted behind him and, when Chris engaged in trying to find his friend, had yanked down the board shorts he had forgotten to re-tie. Chris immediately covered his dick and balls with both hands and attempted to turn and face Jamie. Had Chris thought this through, he would have realized that spinning around quickly while his ankles were constrained by the board shorts was a bad idea. He stumbled and fell on his ass back into the hot tub, causing a large splash. That distraction was all Jamie needed to snatch the board shorts off Chris' feet, leaving him completely naked, his hands still protecting his modesty. Chris looked up to see Jamie smiling from ear to ear, holding the board shorts above the water, a trophy. "This is your fault, you know. Why do you wear such a huge, baggy swimsuit? You're just begging someone here to yank it off." Chris stared slack-jawed for a second. "Ha, ha. Okay, fine, you got me. Now give it back." "This? Oh, Hell no. If you want it, you'll have to come get it." Jamie rose, giving Chris an eyeful of his toned, smooth body, and good-sized dick. "You... You, ah..." Chris found it suddenly difficult to form words. He shook his head. Snap out of it, he thought. Concentrate on the situation at hand: junk hanging out, need shorts. "Don't you dare. And I'm not being cute or whatever, just come back here and give me the shorts." He held out a hand, grateful for the bubbles that obscured his body. Jamie gave a devilish grin and, without a word, stepped out of the hot tub and began walking toward the house. "Jamie! Jamie, I said give me those...! Fuck!" Chris watched as Jamie disappeared into the sliding door of the house. He looked around him. Lost in the commotion in the pool, nobody else at the party had noticed what happened. Small favors, thought Chris. He considered his options. He could sit here and wait for Jamie to come back. But what if he didn't? He could try to grab one of the discarded swimsuits lying around the patio without anybody seeing him. Right, like he could fit into one of those. Damn, Jamie has a nice ass....No, no; concentrate. The only thing he could do would be to make a dash for the house and hope that he could find Jamie and get the suit back. And all he had wanted was to sit in the hot tub and drink some beer. Sigh. Chris took another look around. The other party guests didn't even know he was alive. Chris took a breath and exhaled. Placing his hands tightly around his crotch, he rose, stepped out of the hot tub, and ran -- shuffled, really - to the best of his ability into the house. Please nobody see my ass; please nobody see my ass. He stepped through the sliding door and looked around. Nobody. Everyone must be in the pool, he thought. Keeping his hands in place, he began walking down the hall. "Jamie! Jamie, where are you?" he rasped. No need to attract attention to himself. He became aware that he was dripping all over the carpet. Fuck. "Jamie!" "In here!" The voice emerged from a room down the hall. Chris quickly shuffled down the hall and peered into the room, which was lit only by a desk lamp. It was a bedroom. On the bed, his legs spread, his growing cock in full view, was Jamie. He still held the board shorts in his hand. "Hey there." "C'mon, give those back. I chased you all the way in here." "Come on, yourself. You want these, you have to come over here and get them, just like I told you." That was it. Chris had officially had it up to here. He hadn't wanted to come here in the first place, and in the time he had been at the party he had been abandoned by his friend, forced to drink shitty beer, made to feel insecure about his appearance, and now this little twink had stripped him and was fucking with him. "You want me to come over there?" said Chris, his voice louder and deeper. "You want me to come over there?" Chris took his hands away from his crotch. He wasn't a porn star, but he had a good dick. Hard, it was about seven inches and thick. Currently it was semi-hard, and swung when he removed his hands. He hadn't realized how turned on he had gotten by looking at the boy waiting for him on the bed. " I think you better get your ass over here." Jamie's eyes were glued to the eyes of the expanding cock of the angry masculine stud standing before him. "I said get your fucking ass over here!" Jamie scrambled to his feet, and approached Chris, standing an inch away from him. "Yes, sir!" Jamie beamed, his own hard-on raging. "You don't need to be standing up for his," said Chris. Putting his hands on the boy's shoulders, he forced him to his knees. Jamie didn't need any more instruction than that. He immediately grabbed Chris' rapidly expanding cock and took it in his mouth. He hungrily started sucking it, delighting in how it grew to its full, rock-hard length in seconds. Jamie wrapped his tongue around the head, took the entire shaft down his throat, shoved his face into the dark hair that surrounded the cock. "Good boy," said Chris. His earlier awkwardness had been replaced by lust. This is crazy, he thought. I never get like this. I've never wanted to treat somebody like this before. Chris went with it, reaching a hand down and grabbing Jamie's hair. The boy's mouth felt great taking his cock. He held the back of Jamie's head as he began to fuck his face, shoving his cock deep down the twink's throat. He threw his head back. "Fuck yeah. Still wanna try and fuck with me?" He increased his pace and threw his hips into it. Jamie loved taking Chris' entire length in his mouth, and the way the man guided his head with his big, strong hand. Jamie reached around with both hands, taking handfuls of Chris' meaty ass. He squeezed. Chris could feel the boy's hands on his ass. He used the leverage to get his cock deeper than before down Jamie's throat. He thrust hard. Still holding Jamie's head with his hand, Chris felt Jamie's hands begin to fondle and probe his ass. He realized that Jamie was going to find his asshole and finger-fuck him. "Uh-uh," said Chris. He removed the boy's head from his cock and pulled back on Jamie's hair, tilting his head upward. "I don't get fucked." Chris bent his knees and lifted Jamie up by his midsection. Twisting, he threw Jamie back across the room onto the bed, where he landed and bounced on his stomach. Jamie looked behind him in time to see Chris rushing him from behind and getting on top of him. Jamie's cock was dripping pre-cum. He had wanted all night for this guy -- this man -- to fuck him, and it was finally going to happen. He instinctively raised his ass, offering it to Chris. Parting the boy's legs with his strong arms, Chris looked at the bedside table and saw a bottle of lube. My compliments to the host, he thought. He grabbed the bottle, taking stock of the willing as in front of him. Not bad. Chris poured lube on the waiting hole. "This what you thought you were going to do to me?" Chris slid his finger deep into Jamie's ass. Jamie moaned like a bitch in heat. He had never been more turned on in his life. "Yes!" "Mm. Well, you don't get to fuck me. But I'm gonna fuck you." Chris withdrew his finger and lined his cock up with the boy's hole. He pushed, and moaned lightly as his cock invaded Jamie's ass. Jamie couldn't contain himself. "Yes! Oh, god, yes! Fuck me! Oh, please fuck me!" "You asked for it." Chris rose to his knees and, grabbing Jamie by the hips, pulled the boy in so that Chris' cock was deep in his ass. Chris started fucking him. Not just fucking; really fucking. Chris didn't know what had come over him. Usually he was awkward in bed, but now he felt like a fucking porn star. He had never fucked anybody like this. His took long strokes in and out of the Jamie's ass, and slammed him with each thrust, giving it to him deep. Jamie was practically blinded by ecstasy. This stud's cock owning his ass was the best thing he had ever felt. He was pushing his ass back onto the solid cock in time with Chris' thrusts, getting it as deep inside him as possible. He couldn't even form words through his moaning. Chris grunted as he continued his assault on Jamie's ass. "Like that? Goddamn, you're a whore for my cock, aren't you?" Chris reached back and landed a hard slap on Jamie's ass. He liked the control he had over the boy, turning his anger back on him. Over Jamie's moaning, he could hear the sound of his hips slapping against his firm ass. "Yes! Oh god, fuck the hell out of me!" "I'm gonna do better than that," Chris said, pounding the ass extra hard to get Jamie's attention. "I'm gonna give you my cum. You want that?" "Fuck yeah! Cum deep inside me!" "Only 'cuz you've been good." Chris gripped Jamie's hips and started to slam him as hard as he possibly could, putting his strong thighs and ass into it. He somehow managed to get even deeper into him. Fuck, he thought. I'm gonna cum in this little bitch. Chris withdrew his dick to the tip and shoved the entire thing in with all his strength. That was it. Chris exploded into Jamie's ass, leaning over the boy and biting his shoulder as he did to muffle his groans. He could feel the tight ass around his cock as he shot jets of cum. Jamie made no attempt to muffle his pleasure. He moaned even louder than before as he felt both Chris' cock throbbing inside him, and the ropes of hot cum pumping into him. He felt Chris' burly body covering him, completely owning him inside and out. Chris took smaller strokes in and out of Jamie's ass as he finished pumping his cum into him. His arms were wrapped around the boy's chest, and he breathed sharply on the back of his neck. Fuck, he thought. That was awesome. He shoved his cock deep into Jamie's ass once more, snickering at the gasp of pleasure he elicited. He listened to Jamie breathing hard, to his own deep breaths, to the silence of the room. But, wait, that almost sounded like... Clap. Clap. ClapClapClapClapClapClap. "Woo! Way to go, Chris!" Chris rose to his knees and turned his head to look at the door. Standing there were all the guests of the party. They completely crowded the doorway, with those not in front ducking, standing on their toes, or pushing others out of the way to get a look. They had put their suits back on after getting out of the pool, and many of them were clapping and hollering. Geoff, of course, was front and center. Chris' jaw dropped. "Did you..." "Just watch you fuck the living Hell out of Jamie? Get an eyeful of your hot ass pumping in and out of him? Watch your big cock sliding deep inside him? All of the above. And by the way, now I've seen you naked." "Thanks, Geoff." "Don't mention it." Chris turned to look at Jamie, whose face was still plastered with a giant smile. "Did you know about this?" "Honey, I was dead to the world with that job you were doing on my ass. I don't even care who saw; that was amazing." Chris smirked. He looked back at the crowd, now aware that many of them were ogling his naked body. He lowered his head and chuckled. Fine, he thought. Might as well own up to it. Chris slid his cock completely out of Jamie's ass. Of course, he thought, it hasn't gone down at all. Like this isn't embarrassing enough. Hopping off the bed, Chris turned and faced his admirers, putting a smug smile on his face. He sauntered toward them, trying to ignore the eyes glued to his throbbing cock. He stopped in front of Geoff and put his hands on his hips. He motioned downward with his eyes, indicating his board shorts, which were now in Geoff's hand. The Last Straw "Oh, right. Here you go. If you want I could just set them on..." Geoff moved to rest the shorts on Chris' dick. Chris snatched them from his friend's hand before he got the chance. He smirked at his friend. "This'll be fine. Excuse me, gentlemen." The guests parted to let Chris walk down the hall. He didn't bother putting on his suit. They want a show, he thought, I'll give it to 'em. He didn't look back, but he knew that every set of eyes in that house was glued to his ass as he walked out the door. Chris left the party after that. Geoff can get a ride home from someone else, he thought. He checked his phone when he got home. He already had seven messages from party guests begging to be his next fuck. Chris smiled to himself. "Looks like my dry spell is over."