Nick's House Party

"You've got a point there," said Sara. "We should do that to somebody."

Just then Jenny stopped telling her story but continued tugging on my cock. By this time I had a pretty big hard-on.

"I'm glad that my story is getting you so excited," she said. "I guess now it's time for me to confess to you my ulterior motive for wanting to suck your cock."

"OK," I said. "Let's hear it."

"I mean I feel like at this point it's fairly obvious and you could probably guess."

"Go on," I pleaded.

"The reason I wanted to see what parts of my story are exciting you is because Sean has sent me to search for a white boy to bring back to him who will watch me, Kristina and Sara get fucked by Sean and then you will suck his cock until he comes in your mouth."

"What? NO!" I shouted. "You've got the wrong guy! I'm not gay!"

She was barking up the wrong tree. I was not amused by the idea of giving some black guy head. I was not amused by the idea of giving any guy head.

"I know you're not gay," said Jenny. "But don't you realize how hard you were getting when I was describing to you how big Sean's cock was?"

"That's because you are a girl and you are talking about sexy stuff and you told me you were going to suck me off..."

"OK, that makes sense. But try and think really hard about exactly what was getting you off when I was telling you my story."

I thought about it for a moment. By now I was starting to go soft again.

"I guess what was really getting me off was hearing about how much you and your friends like to suck dick. About how a big black guy's cock was making you guys start rubbing your pussies and ripping off your clothes."

My cock was starting to grow as I said this.

"You see!" yelled Jenny. "There you go getting hard as a rock again! Let me ask you this...Do you think you would have had the same reaction to my story if I would have told you that a white guy with a 6 inch cock the size of yours came to visit the three of us and we started protesting when he threatened to whip it out?"

"Well, no, but maybe if you would have reacted the same way that you did when Sean was over then it wouldn't matter if he was a white guy with a small cock or a black guy with a large one."

"OK, but let's get realistic, honey. No guy with a regular sized cock like yours is going to make three girls start swooning with delight like Sean did. Despite what they say about the motion in the ocean when it comes to sex for girls size does matter."

"OK, I can agree to that, but what exactly about you telling me this story is getting you off? Admit it, you're getting off on telling me all of this because you like making me jealous, and you like sucking cock, and you know that you telling me this story is going to make me hard."

"Jimmy, you're exactly right about that. I am getting off on making you jealous. And you know what, I might have been exaggerating a little bit with my story because I like a guy with a medium sized penis like yours. I like cute and handsome white guys like you. I think you're very sexy. But I think part of what was making you jealous was penis envy, the same way that girls have penis envy. And do you know how girls make up for having penis envy? They suck a lot of dick."

"So you think I would subconsciously like to suck on another guy's dick?"

"Not just any guy's dick. Sean's dick. Sean's huge big black nigger dick."

"But wouldn't that make me gay?"

"Not necessarily. It wouldn't have to make you anything. It might make you bi-sexual. But what if what got you off about sucking Sean's dick was not the fact that you were making him happy, but that you were doing it in front of me and I was getting turned on from watching you. If you were in love with me for example, and you would do anything to get me off and give me great sexual pleasure, then you could bang my brains out six ways from Wednesday, but what if what would really be the ultimate way to please me would be to let me watch you go down on another man? If you did it to get me off then that wouldn't make you gay, it might make you bi-sexual a little bit, but I think that would still qualify as heterosexual."

"So are you saying that you would get turned on by watching me suck Sean's dick?"

"More than anything."

"But how do I know that you're not just saying that because he wants you to and because you enjoy getting him off?"

"I guess there's really no way for you to know whether I'm doing it for you or for him, but does it even really matter as long as it's getting you off?"

"Yes!"

"OK, well then I'll be perfectly honest with you. I'd be doing it for both of you. Just watching you suck Sean's dick would get me off, but I'd take delight in knowing that I was bringing you and him sexual pleasure. I think all three of us, well five of us if you include Kristina and Sara, would really enjoy it actually."

"OK, but hold on a second... So he sent you here to find some guy to bring back to him and suck his cock? Does that mean that you're still dating?"

"Well technically, yes. I am sorry for leading you on when I told you that he was my x-boyfriend. In reality we are still together and I've agreed to be completely submissive to his will and become his sex slave and do whatever he tells me."

"You're his sex slave?"

"I can't help myself. Ever since Sara pulled his cock out of his pants right before my eyes I've become a little bit obsessed with him and I literally worship the ground that he walks on."

"So when you said before that you were 'practically a virgin' you were lying because you've actually already had sex with Sean?"

"Well, yes. If you were to let me finish telling you my story eventually I'd get to the part where Sean fucked our brains out and we all rode him like cowgirls at a rodeo for about three hours straight."

"That's OK I'm sure I can use my imagination," I said. "But then why did you say that you were 'practically a virgin'?"

"Well, that part was Sean's idea. He thought it would help get you aroused because most guys like thinking that they are big enough studs to pop a sweet virgin girl's cherry."

"Well fuck my virgin ass! So did he tell you to do the whole thing where you tell me the story and try to gauge what parts are turning me on?"

"Yes."

"And what about the promise that you made to suck my cock if I was a "good little boy" and listened politely to your story?"

"That was his idea."

"So he's OK with you giving me a blow-job?"

"He's not the type of guy to get jealous over a thing like that. He's shy, but he's very self-confident. If you saw how big his cock was you'd understand. I don't think he's worried that I'd leave him for a guy with a 6 inch cock like yours, no offense. But I still love to suck cock no matter what size it is. Sean loves me and he wants me to have as much sexual pleasure as I possibly can. He would never deny me the sexual pleasure of sucking another guy's cock by prohibiting it or being against it."

"So what you're saying is that you would actually get off on sucking my dick?"

"It would give me great pleasure to suck your 6 inch little white boy dick, the same way I'm sure it would give you great pleasure to suck Sean's big black man cock."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Well, you did listen patiently to my story and I did promise you that I'd give you a blowjob. And from the looks of it you're dying for some release. Unfortunately now I have to add one more catch to the equation. If you let me suck your cock right now, then you have to agree to suck Sean's cock sometime in the near future. You don't have to sign anything and there's no way for me to really enforce this arrangement, but I trust you and so we'd pretty much have to go by the honor system. But I will ask for you to pinky swear if you decide to go through with it."

I thought about it for a moment. I did feel lied to and a little bit led on. Would I ever be able to suck another guy's cock without throwing up? I could just say no and jerk off in the bathroom after she was gone. But after hearing all of her rationalizations I had to admit that I was a little bit turned on and a little bit curious. Maybe this would be the most exciting sexual experience of my life. After all, they say it's better to regret something you've done than to regret something you didn't do.

"Alright," I said finally. "I'll do it."

"Great!" she said. "I think you're making the right decision."

She held out her pinky and I took mine and locked it with hers, forming a pinky swear. Then she started slobbering on my knob and gave me the best blow-job I'd ever had in my life. When I was getting close to cumming I grabbed the back of her head and started fucking her face until I shot my load deep in her throat. It came out in seven long bursts, globs, squirts, blasts, spurts, explosions, and ejaculations. And Jenny, being the expert cock-sucker that she was, never once gagged or spilled any of my cum, but she swallowed every last drop.

It ended up being a pretty good Friday night.

Chapter Two

I woke up the next morning sprawled on Nick's parents' leather couch in their living room. I was hung over. Looking around I could see that I wasn't the only one who had crashed in the living room. There were two or three unidentifiable bodies dead asleep on the floor, with only a few couch cushions as pillows and a few blankets to keep them warm. Well, it's not like they really needed them. After all it was the summer. But man, I could only imagine what kind of back problems or creeks in the neck they would have for the rest of the day. The human body isn't made to sleep on the flat hard floor, even if it is carpeted. The human body needs a little bit more consideration than that, either in the form of a mattress or a reclining easy chair, or in my case a couch. A waterbed might be a fun adventure for a while if you have the money and you don't get seasick. I guess you could always take Dramamine. But being one of Nick's best friends and also an upperclassman gave me seniority, which meant that I got the preferential treatment when it came to sleeping arrangements. Unfortunately for me it also meant that I had to help Nick clean the place up before his parents got home.

The night before I had stumbled into the living-room after playing 3 or 4 games of beer pong, and I had found some wimpy looking high school freshman (soon to be sophomore) asleep on the couch. I gently nudged him to try and get a reaction. He didn't still. Stupid freshman. Probably didn't know how to hold his liquor. I tried shaking him this time, with a little bit more ferocity. He squirmed in his place a little bit, shifting his body weight, but apparently still asleep. I contemplated splashing some cold water or a nearby left over beer in his face. That would wake him. On second thought I didn't think Nick would approve of me getting liquids on his parents' leather couch, even if it was just water. I didn't like to have to play the role of tough guy, but this kid was giving me no choice. After all there was a status quo to uphold/maintain. Should I kick him in the stomach or slap him in the face? Well, if there was any chance of this kid tossing his cookies I had better avoid kicking him in the stomach. I decided to try reason.

"Hey buddy!" I shouted into his ear, inches away from his face.

"Huh?" The kid shifted his weight again and changed his body posture, but he opened his eyes for a split second and then closed them again.

"You're sleeping on my couch!" I yelled into his other ear.

The kid didn't move. Cleary this kid was not being receptive to the Geneva Convention approach. I decided it was time to take affirmative action. Well, not affirmative action exactly but you know what I'm trying to say. It was time for me to take matters into my own hands. Being a little bit drunk I stumbled and almost fell over as I placed both hands on the kid's torso and threw him off the couch and onto the floor. This time he seemed to recognize what was happening.

"Ouch!" he shouted, opening his eyes completely for the first time and rubbing his elbow. "What's going on here? Why did I just hit my funny bone on the floor?"

"Relax," I said patiently. "It's not like it's a hardwood floor, how bad could it be?"

"You...you threw me on the floor!" he half-shouted completely accusationally. "I was sleeping on the couch and you disrupted my slumber!"

"Listen friend, I'm sorry I disrupted your slumber but you were sleeping on my couch. Did you ask Nick if you could sleep here? No wait," I hesitated, "I already know the answer to that. There's no way you could have asked Nick because if you had he would have told you to go fuck yourself! This couch is reserved, it has my name on it, you can ask Nick for the documentation if you like but these matters have already been settled months in advance. Now if you don't like it then you can scram, beat it! You should be lucky I don't throw your dorky ass out on the street! Maybe make an anonymous phone call to your parents about how their honor roll student was at an underage drinking house party..."

"No, wait, forget it. I'm s-sorry. The couch is yours, Mr. Mr. ..."

"Zucchini!" I said defiantly. "And don't you forget it. Here, now take these and go back to sleep. You're so wasted you probably won't even know the difference." I threw a few pillows and a blanket in his direction and began to spread out and get comfortable. Aww, the privileges of being a senior/upperclassman.

Jenny had gone home soon after our rendezvous in Nick's parents' bedroom. How she got home I wasn't exactly sure. Maybe she called a taxi. She had disappeared into the basement to find Sara and Kristina after swallowing my cum, and for a minute I just laid on the bed, thinking about everything that had transpired. It had been quite an eventful couple of hours.

I had gone from spotting a pretty girl from across the room, a complete stranger, to being involved in some sort of complicated cuckolding plot, or some kind of twisted underworld of deviant sex and bondage, S&M, etc. I felt for a minute that I was getting in way over my head, head being the operative word there. There was no way I was ever going to live up to the promise I made to Jenny. Pinky swear or no pinky swear. I was no faggot, and that was the bottom line.

I thought for a moment about going to sleep then and there, just passing out on Nick's parents' bed. I probably would have had great dreams about Jenny giving me that blowjob. But then I snapped back to my senses. I couldn't just go to bed, now. There was a full fledged party going on downstairs, and I was missing it. Plus, Nick might have been OK with me copping some dome in his parents' bedroom, but actually sleeping there was another story. I would probably have to try my luck on the couch. What time was it? I looked at the digital clock on the nearby nightstand and the time said 11:33.

11:33 pm! The night was still young! There was still more drinking and partying to be done. I would have to challenge Nick to a rematch at pool. If I found a good partner for beer pong I might be on the table until 6 in the morning. And wait till I told Nick about what happened with me and Jenny! No doubt Nick would tell Rachel, but who the hell cared. I wouldn't tell them about the whole thing with Sean of course, but it might not be so bad to tell them I'd gotten my dick sucked. They'd probably be happy for me. I decided to go downstairs and look for Nick so I could tell him the good news.

I heard the intro to the song "Juicy" by Biggie Smalls start blasting out of the speakers Nick had in his basement. "Juicy" was always a favorite jam among the high school/college crowd at house parties on the East Coast. Whenever it would come on all of the kids would start singing and rapping the lyrics in unison like some kind of a drunken orgy.

"Fuck all you hoes... Get a grip, motha fucka... Yeah, this album is dedicated... to all the teachers that told me I'd never amount to nothin'...to all the people that lived above the
buildings that I was hustlin' in front of that called the police on me when I was just tryin' to make some money to feed my daughters...and all the niggaz in the struggle, you know what I'm sayin'?

Uh-ha, yeah it's all good baby bay-bee, uh

It was all a dream!
I used to read Word Up magazine
Salt'n'Pepa and Heavy D up in the limousine
Hangin' pictures on my wall
Every Saturday Rap Attack, Mr. Magic, Marley Marl..."

I walked over to the large windows that Nick had in his living room and pulled aside the large theatre like curtains so I could peer out and get a glimpse of the outside world. Immediately bursts of sunshine came streaming through, bright as day. It was a beautiful sunny day out, but man it was bright. Too bright for me when I had such a killer hangover. Later maybe I would get outside and shot a few hoops on Nick's driveway with a few other kids that liked to ball. A few lines of coke would straighten me out. If there was one thing I took seriously it was basketball. I could always count on basketball to sober me up.

A couple of times I had attempted to play completely shit-faced, with very little success, but for the most part, so long as I had a couple of brain cells to rub together I could get a pretty good workout going, build a nice head of steam and get pretty serious about winning the game. I was a pretty fierce competitor on the basketball court, no matter what type of competition was going on. 21, Horse, 3 on 3, 5 on 5, 1 on 1, Around the world, 3 point contest, knockout. I had skills to pay the bills and for the most part I could hold my own on the court with anyone from our school, even the black kids.

Just about the only thing I couldn't do that some of them could was dunk. But I got damn near close. I could jump up and grab the rim with my fingers if I got a running start, which was pretty much the equivalent of me being able to dunk a tennis ball. I suppose if I could palm a regular sized basketball I might be able to dunk it but my hands just weren't big enough. Oh, well. There was no need for me to spend my days contemplating what I had in common with Woody Harrelson from White Men Can't Jump. After all, there was always an outside chance that if I continued to grow a couple of extra inches and if I continued to work out and mold my body into absolutely perfect physical condition, I would be able to dunk a basketball before I turned 40.

And there's no use in beating a dead horse, but in my estimation being able to dunk isn't everything when it comes to being a great basketball player. Some of the best point guards in the NBA are too short to dunk. Look at Muggsy Bogues or Mike Bibby for example. Allen Iverson, well, certain players could dunk in the video games but not in real life. Muggsy Bogues in NBA Jam for example. Hell, the best player on our high school basketball team was my friend Eric Jones, a short white kid who scored over a thousand points during his four years playing for our team. He scored more points than anyone else on our team, including those players that could dunk. Pistol Pete Maravich is another great example of a white kid who couldn't dunk who became a legend on the basketball court. He still holds the record for points scored in college.

In a lot of ways these types of comparisons were similar to the types of arguments that would typically or inevitably arise in the face of the age old debate "Does size really matter?" when it comes to pleasing a woman in the bedroom. While some girls are not overly shy about enjoying a man with a larger than average penis size, in terms of both length and girth, there are other girls who find it quite painful and too much of a challenge to be with someone of such epic proportions. Some women argue that size alone does not mean a man will be able to please a woman when it comes to sex. They argue there are other ways that men with average sized phalluses can make up for their modest penis size. Oral sex, for example, and what they can do with their hands and fingers. This is usually when someone says, "It's not the size of the dog in the fight but the size of the fight in the dog," or something about "it's not the size of the ship but the motion in the ocean" and other such clichés.