All The Things You Are

"I've always wanted to blow the entire lacrosse team."

Damian chokes on his beer at my words. It's just the two of us in the hot tub. Tonight's party is winding down, and everyone else is inside.

"I'm on the lacrosse team," he says.

His arm rests along the edge of the hot tub, and his fingertips are an inch away from my shoulder. We're sitting close, but not too close.

"Oh, are you?" I stretch luxuriously, water soaking my red bikini top. "Yeah, I guess you are."

I met Damian on the first day of college. Freshman year, we lived across the hall from each other. It's been three years, and I've always seen him as a friend — nothing more. He usually has a girlfriend, though not at the moment. And me? I prefer to be unattached.

But now, I look him over. His firm shoulders, the water dripping down his chest, his cute curly dark hair that could use a cut. His fingers that can't stay still on the rim of the hot tub.

He shifts in the water. I wonder if he's getting hard.

"Can you...elaborate?" His eyes flick to my face, then away.

"Of course. They're all — excuse me, you're all lined up in the locker room. You're sitting on a bench in one long row. Naked. Rock hard." I watch his expression. Tough to tell in the dark backyard, but I swear his cheeks are reddening. "It's silent. No one can talk unless I say so. No one can touch me unless I say so. You're all so fucking desperate to come, desperate for my attention, and I'm the only one who can give that to you. It's just, oh my God, this forest of cocks, and I'm sucking on all of you, and it's more cock than I can even imagine..." I laugh, kicking my legs in the water.

He looks stunned. "You are so drunk, Alana," he murmurs.

You're so turned on, Damian.

"Maybe." I give a little shrug. "But in this fantasy, everyone is stone cold sober."

I lean across him in the hot tub to get my beer, and the tip of my breast brushes his shoulder, then his cheek. He sucks in a breath.

It's cruel, to tease like this. But I can't stop. It's too much fun.

"What's in it for you?" He smiles, but his eyes are glazed. "Don't you want pleasure too?"

I move closer — just a bit. The hot water foams around us.

"There's lots in it for me. I get attention. I get control. I get masturbation material that will last me for years. I come better when I'm alone, anyway."

I don't tell Damian that alone is the only way I come.

"You're a tease, aren't you?"

"I guess." I tilt my head to sip my beer. "But this is a dream that's never going to happen. I've resigned myself to that. My favorite fantasy will always be a fantasy."

"You sound so sure."

"Of course I'm sure." The stars look so pretty overhead. I squint up at them. "It would be crazy to try it in real life. There's no guarantee that the guys would be respectful, that they wouldn't gossip or secretly tape it. That it would go the way I want it to."

"Why lacrosse?" His fingers brush my shoulder, and I tense. It feels good, but I'm not asking him to hit on me.

"Oh, you know." I toss back my long wet hair.

"No, I don't know." He's looking at me more intently. "Enlighten me."

"Football's a cliche. Basketball players would never sit still. Soccer players...don't get me started on soccer players."

"So it's all the things we aren't." He's definitely turned on.

"No," I giggle. "It's all the things you are." I sink below the surface of the hot tub until my head is submerged in warm water.

*****

Two days later, in the middle of a lecture, my phone buzzes with a text from Damian.

Call me.

I immediately feel tingly, surprised by the fizz of excitement. I mean, it's just Damian. After the party, he walked me home and made sure I got inside okay, because he's sweet like that. And I teased him some more on the way home, because I'm a bitch like that.

I didn't expect him to linger on my mind afterward.

I wait till I'm back in my room to call. He answers with a question.

"Do you want your fantasy to come true?"

My stomach flips. "What are you talking about?"

"The fantasy you told me about in the hot tub, with the lacrosse team."

"I know what you mean. I'm asking about the coming true part."

He exhales. "I know some guys."

"What?" I sit down on my bed, fast.

"Not the whole team, I definitely wouldn't recommend that. But part of it. These are decent guys. They'd be down for this, but respectful."

My mouth opens and closes, but no words come.

"You'd be in control. I didn't tell them your name. To them, it's hypothetical. And, uh, not in the locker room. But that's better as fantasy anyway. You wouldn't want to actually do it in the locker room."

There's a long silence.

"Damian, are you for real?" I finally ask.

"Look," he says quickly, "I'm offering. But I know you didn't ask me to do this, and I totally get it if you're not interested. Just say so, and we'll never talk about it again."

Holy shit.

He's offering to make my craziest fantasy a reality.

I don't doubt the guys would be respectful; Damian would make sure of that.

I'm in shock, and I can't answer right away, because my vision swims with a group of nameless hot men, naked and straining and desperately turned on. Needing the relief that I can give them.

And one man who's definitely not anonymous.

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My long brown hair is a tousled mess because I've been running my fingers through it. I'm not a blusher, but my cheeks are pink, and my eyes are lit up with excitement. My nipples are hard, and my whole body's tingling.

"Alana?" Damian asks.

I want him to moan my name. I've never fantasized about Damian before, but suddenly I want to hear him beg. I want him to plead with me to let him come, while for one night I'm the center of his world.

"Who are the other guys?" Coming back to earth, I picture the lacrosse team.

"You don't know them. They're strangers. They have no idea who you are. I told them this would be with a friend of mine and she's cute and nice. And hot."

"I'm nice?"

"Well, nice enough. Trustworthy, is what I mean. And so are they. If you want this, it won't go wrong. It'll go the way you want it to."

I close my eyes. "Why are you doing this for me?"

"Your birthday's coming up."

"Not for three weeks." I'm surprised he remembers. I haven't said anything about it.

"Okay, it's your birthday month. Happy April."

I laugh. Suddenly, I feel lighter and happier than I have in awhile during this long college semester. A birthday present. Why not?

"How many, Damian?" My voice drops into a flirty tone. No, more raspy than flirty. Sex voice. It's not on purpose, it's just happening.

"Five."

"Including you?"

I hear his breathing change.

"Including me." His voice deepens.

He's aroused, and at the sound of his desire, my body responds. I stretch out on my bed, watching my reflection as I lift my T-shirt above my breasts.

"You want me to suck your cock?" I cup one breast, playing with it.

He inhales sharply. "Yes."

"It would feel so good, wouldn't it?" I slip my hand into the waistband of my leggings. "I'd take my time with you."

"I know you would."

"And I'd tease." My fingers slide into my panties, and I gasp when they meet my pussy. Fuck, so wet. So hot.

"I don't doubt it." His tone drops to a whisper. "Are you touching yourself?"

I tense up. He's not supposed to take control. But my pussy tightens around my fingers.

"Mm-hmmmm," I murmur.

He lets out a low moan, like he doesn't mean to, but it slipped out.

"I'm playing with my pussy, Damian. You're getting me sooooo wet. I'm thinking about driving you crazy."

"Fuck," he whispers.

"It would be so much fun to see you naked." God, I'm trying to hold the reins, but I'm getting hungry to see his body. He groans. "It would be even more fun to lick you while I'm touching your friends." His breath speeds up. "And it would be the most fun for your friends to watch —" I circle my clit faster, my thighs quivering — "when you cum in my mouth."

"Jesus, Alana!"

I drink in the sounds of him climaxing as I arch off the bed, meeting my own hand, plunging my fingers into my pussy. I'm so close, burning with excitement, but I'm not going to let myself come on the phone. I'll wait till I'm alone.

His groans, the sweetest music to my ears, subside. I picture his hard stomach, streaked with cum, and his dick gripped in his fist. All I hear is his breath.

"I'll think about it, Damian."

I hang up before he can respond. Rolling onto my stomach, I rock against my hand, dreaming about all those cocks begging for attention. I imagine Damian's face as he orgasms. And I rub my swollen clit until I finally, finally come.

*****

The next Friday night, I walk across campus to Damian's apartment. His roommate's out of town. The night is warm, but I shiver with anticipation.

I told him yes.

He said he'll take care of everything.

When I pass a window, I check my reflection. It's nothing fancy — there's no point in dressing up for tonight. I'm going to be spending a lot of time on my knees. But I look cute. My long brown hair's pulled into a ponytail, and my tank top and leggings show off my body. I'm ready to run a marathon, if that marathon involves a lot of cleavage.

At Damian's front door, I lift my hand to knock, then pause.

Behind his front door, five men are waiting. They aren't just five cocks; there are people attached. Maybe it was a mistake to do this sober.

Or maybe it's all an elaborate ruse on Damian's part to get me over here. The door will swing open and he'll pop out of a giant birthday cake, stripper-style.

Surprise! It's just you and me. The other guys couldn't make it. But now that you're here...

I rap firmly on the door.

Damian opens it. No one's behind him in the living room.

Instead of our usual hug, we just stare at each other. The air is thick between us.

"Are you sure about this, Alana?" he asks softly.

He looks delicious. I eye his T-shirt and jeans, his broad shoulders, his bare feet. His messy dark hair, falling over his forehead. His brown eyes, gleaming with anticipation, but also caring. He'd call this off in a heartbeat if I wanted him to.

I put my hand on his chest, and he swallows. His skin is hot through his thin cotton tee.

"Where are the other guys?"

"In my room."

"Hell, yes, I'm sure." I roll my shoulders back, aware of his eyes dropping down my body. "I'm offended you'd even ask."

"I had to." He grins. "You look amazing. Come on."

He takes my hand and pulls me toward his bedroom. I open my mouth to remind him that I'm doing the touching tonight, not being touched.

But his hand feels so nice, and what comes out instead is, "Amazing, huh?"

"Mm-hm. Fucking hot."

I open his bedroom door.

Five guys look up at me.

Instead of sitting naked in a row, they're fully dressed and grouped around the room. They lounge on Damian's bed, his desk chair, against his dresser. Like he said, they're all strangers to me, and I don't see a flicker of recognition in any of their eyes.

What I do see is relief. Arousal. Surprise.

One guy was scrolling through his phone when I opened the door. He shoves it in his pocket and sits up straight.

"Holy shit," another one murmurs. "You're actually here. We thought Damian was shitting us. And you're hot—"

"Shh." I put a finger to my lips. He looks startled, but stops talking. The guy next to him snickers.

Damian shuts the door with a soft click.

"Let's start with some ground rules." I smile at all of them. Five pairs of eyes stare back. They're already mentally undressing me. Imagining how my mouth will feel. The guy in the desk chair shifts, and my gaze drops to the bulge in his pants. "No speaking unless you're spoken to. No touching me unless you're invited to. Is that clear?"

"Wow," begins the guy closest to me, "you are really into control—"

"Sshhh," everyone else hisses.

Good. They get the idea.

I walk over to the guy who spoke, the one who was nervous about me wanting control. He's good-looking — black hair, blue eyes, big muscular body. I put my hands on his shoulders, stroking them, and excitement floods my skin as he stares up at me. Fuck, this really is like being in a candy store. Straddling him, I lean in for a kiss.

He's surprised. Probably expected me to go straight for his crotch. But he kisses me back, running his hands over my back and pulling me onto his lap. It feels delicious, and I can't resist rubbing my pussy against his very hard erection. Around us, the other guys are fidgeting. Adjusting themselves. Breathing faster.

His kisses are getting more aggressive — lots of tongue — and his hands are roaming everywhere. My face, my arms, my breasts. I break the kiss.

"What's your name?" I murmur, brushing my lips against his ear.

"Anthony."

Anthony is used to being in control. He needs a reminder of who's in charge.

"What's yours?" he asks. I shake my head.

"Put your hands behind your back, Anthony."

He stares at me. I nod and give him an encouraging smile. Slowly, he puts his hands behind his back, gripping them together. I reward him by brushing my hard nipples against his chest. He groans softly. As I tease him, stroking his skin, slipping my hands under his shirt, brushing my fingers against the thick bulge in his pants, every breath and gasp he takes are echoed by all the other guys in the room.

I drop to my knees, keeping my hands on his legs.

"I can't wait to taste you," I murmur. "Take your clothes off."

It's a funny thing, giving orders while kneeling. But as Anthony looms over me, hastily stripping off his shirt, jeans, and boxers, there's no doubt now about who's in charge.

His cock springs free. It's everything I want: thick, veined, flushed with arousal. A bead of precum glistens at the tip.

"Mmmmm." I smile up at him.

When I glance over my shoulder, the force of four other male stares almost knocks me over. All that concentrated desire, all that need...

"Strip," I order. "All of you. I want to see you naked."

I'm too impatient, too excited, to wait for each of them to undress when I get to them. I want a roomful of bare-assed guys, riveted to me and wondering if I'll take my clothes off too.

Some of them leap to their feet. Others stay seated as they yank their shirts off. But they're all in a rush, eager to expose themselves.

Anthony clears his throat, angling for my attention. It turns into a groan as I stroke his thighs, ignoring his obvious need. He can wait while I take in the vision of his friends throwing their clothes off. So many guy clothes — shirts and jeans and boxers, all flying onto the floor. So many hard bodies. Hungry cocks.

Damian's bedroom already smells like sex and it's soaked in desire. My panties are so fucking wet. I let out a moan, even though I don't mean to.

Then I turn back to Anthony. Gripping his cock, I engulf it in my mouth.

"Fuuuuuck," he hisses.

The shock of the first contact ripples through the room. He's so thick and hard as my lips wrap around him. I swirl my tongue over his head, wanting to bring him off fast. He tries to fuck my mouth, and I squeeze his shaft so I can stay in control.

Out of the corner of my eye, the other guys are staring. Their lips part as they slowly rub their cocks.

The only one I can't see is Damian. He's out of my line of vision. And dammit, I so want to see him. Is he touching himself or holding back? Is he smiling, or is his familiar face clouded with lust?

I focus on Anthony. He's close. Flexing, breathing rapidly, his hands fisting behind his back. I suck his head faster, fondling his sensitive balls, coaxing him to give me his climax.

I look up into blue eyes. Come on, Anthony.

"Jesus!" It comes out as a shout. His deep grunt echoes through the room, and the other guys make noises in sympathy. Soft curses, groans. Hot cum floods my mouth, and I hold his gaze while I swallow. I want him to know how much I enjoy it.

Anthony collapses back on the bed, grinning like an idiot.

Quickly, I pivot to the guy next to him, the talkative one who thought Damian was shitting all of them about this evening. I don't ask his name. I don't make fucking conversation. I just start kissing his chest. Soft little kisses, and nibbles, and a bite on his nipple that makes him yelp.

"Don't you want to know my name?" he asks.

"Uh-uh." I tease his hard abs with my tongue.

"Don't you want to take this off?" He runs his fingers under the straps of my tank top. I shiver, goosebumps speckling my skin, but I push his hand away.

"Not right now."

"Don't you want to—"

I put my finger to his lips. "Quiet. Or I'll have to hush you up."

Laughter runs around the room, quick and charged.

"I'd like to see that," says the guy lounging against the dresser. He watches me through slitted eyes. "It's more than any of us can do."

Damian shoots him a look, and he subsides.

I kiss a trail down to Talkative Boy's crotch. He's silent now. But when I take his bare cock in my hands and begin to caress his warm skin, he can't hold back. All the fucks and christs and oh shits come pouring out. And when I think of Damian watching me get his friend off, I suck relentlessly, encouraging his orgasm with my hands and mouth.

Why can't I see Damian? Is he deliberately staying out of my sightline? Teasing me back? The other guys are close; Anthony and a blond guy with glasses are practically on top of us, and the guy lounging by the dresser watches with a slight smile as he fists his dick.

It would all be perfect if I could just see Damian's face.

A string of curses rips through the air as Talkative Boy spurts onto my tongue. I lick his cock through his climax, eager for every drop, savoring the way his mouth hangs open when I swallow his cum too.

As he sprawls on the bed to recover, I grab the hands of the blond with the glasses, pull him to his feet, and push him against the opposite wall. He's caught off-guard, which is fun. Excited as hell, which is even better. But I also do it because I want to see Damian at the same time.

Finally, I can look him over. He's leaning against the wall, his strong arms folded. His body is beautiful, and his cock's as aroused as everyone else's. But he isn't touching himself like the others. He's just waiting. Watching me. Like a hawk.

I get the feeling he can wait a long time. Outlast all the teasing I can dream up.

I flush down my chest. I'm the one off-balance now. With a deep breath, I unhook the blond's glasses, set them on Damian's desk, and pull him in for a kiss.

His hands flex in the air. He's obviously unsure whether he can touch me. I haven't given him an order the way I did for Anthony. I let him wonder as I suck on his neck and throat. There's no doubt I'm leaving hickeys, little remembrances of this night. He doesn't offer a word of protest.

The room is truly silent now, soaked in sex. I know without looking that the guys who already came are getting hard again.

I drop to my knees and close my eyes, letting sensation take over. This boy's musky scent, his satiny skin. When I tease the underside of his cock with my tongue, his hands suddenly slide into my hair.

The room takes a breath.

I don't shake him off or tell him no. I let him massage my scalp, loosening my ponytail, just because it feels so damn good. When he holds the back of my head while I suck his cock, I let out a little sigh.

Suddenly, there's the warmth of a body close to mine. Someone's crouching next to me. I feel a hand on my back, and I know from his scent that it's Damian.