Messy Ch. 03

"Dammit!" I punched my bicep.

"What?" Tori asked.

"Shit still HURTS!"

She grimaced. "Good, cheap, fast, pick two."

"Yeah well, bitch needs her license revoked if she's gonna stab people like that. I'm not some junkie, it's not that hard to find a blood vessel."

"You big baby."

"Hey, my hard and fast rule for my entire life is I put up a fight if somebody tries to penetrate me. That also applies to needles."

Tori giggled at my phrasing. "Don't forget, you organized this shindig. You're responsible for the whole kit 'n caboodle."

"No, I didn't organize anything this year. Ten years ago, I organized some people. Five years ago, I wrote an app. I never organized anything on Halloween."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Whatever."

We were in the car, headed to the Halloween Bash. Put on by several members of the Minneapolis kink community, it was a safe, organized opportunity to dress up in costume, meet your fellow kinksters, and screw them silly.

Ten years ago, as I came to terms with the fact that monogamy and a boring sex life were not anything I wanted a part of, I'd ventured through the Minneapolis kink community, building relationships among people, organizing us with message boards, texting lists, and occasionally, holiday cards.

Five years ago when I'd coded Selector, it made it possible for people to connect based on interest, instead of just showing up to a meet or answering an ad on the internet.

Or once hookup apps came about, trying to find people who were bent the same way you were. It'd taken about three conversations to find out my potential hookups weren't interested in leashes, leather cuffs, and spreader bars before I decided to start learning programming.

With Selector, you could see, in addition to their picture and bio, what their preferences for partner gender - and group size - were, what acts turned them on, and I'd even included a spot where they could scan an STD test with their smartphone camera and upload it, for those careful souls like me who always liked to see such stuff before trusting someone.

That's what I was complaining about now. The tech school where I taught also had a nursing division, and they provided cheap, twenty four hour turnaround for STD testing. Which meant that the people drawing your blood were not always the most skilled. In my case, Nurse Wretched had rooted around in my arm for what seemed like a year with a needle before finding a damn vein. I'd been almost at the point where I opened my arm up with a scissors just to show her that yes, I did have blood in me.

It would've been less painful.

But she'd gotten her sample and here I was two days later, my arm still aching, driving Tori to the warehouse where the Halloween Bash was held.

I was dressed as a soldier. It was a simple enough costume to put together, and fairly cheap too. Underneath her long coat, Tori was dressed like an interstellar warrior princess, wearing a metal-looking bra and a long loincloth. If she wasn't too worn out tonight, and if she came back home, I planned on holding her captive and torturing her for the location of the rebel base.

We parked in the side lot, and I marveled at the number of cars. I had helped facilitate this, in my own way - organizing people, and giving them a platform from which to communicate.

One door was propped open a crack, and we slipped in. The cavernous interior was well lit, loud with techno music, and warm. The temperature must've been cranked to eighty or above, expensive yes, but when most of the people are nude or close to it, and the temperature outside ranges from twenty to fifty, warm is necessary.

Entrance to the party was through a chainlink processing area where a costumed attendant printed a picture of you, took a copy of your recent STD test, put your cellphone in a black plastic bag, and stapled the whole collection to a bulletin board.

Further on, you had to pick out your wristbands, and sign your name to a sheet saying you agreed to play by the rules of the group. The wristbands were color coded. Blue on your right wrist meant you played with men, pink with women. The bands on your left arm signified your interests. Black for domination, white for submission. Blue for bondage. Red for anal. Yellow for oral. And a whole host of other colors signifying pain, pleasure, and the mutual exchange of bodily fluids.

We checked in and moved beyond the chainlink entrance, to a small bar slash meeting area. Tables were set up with stools, and a small bar operated off to one corner, people milling around in a riot of color. Two drink maximum, I knew from previous visits. The towering shelves ahead had been rigged with clotheslines and tarps, and I could hear sounds of carnal enjoyment and exploration taking place behind the blue plastic sheets. Along one wall, chainlink fencing had been set up for BDSM related activities, and the far back held a row of tents for those who wanted a more private experience. Off to the left of the cantina area, local sex toy shops had small display areas. I was amused to see that a local retailer for a popular national chain of low-quality lingerie had absolutely zero attention.

Tori squeezed my arm. "I'm gonna go see if I can find Nina. I'll see you later."

"Got it." She headed off towards the chain link and I people-watched. The guys were dressed like doctors and lawyers mostly, the suit-wearing dominant costume in full effect as it had been since that wretched book came out. I had to give props to the guy dressed as an MMA fighter. Shorts and fingerless gloves were his only clothing. Not much to remove, and easy to do so. Someone else must've realized it too, because a woman dressed like a sexy nurse walked up, grabbed him by the crotch, and leaned in to kiss his neck.

The women's costumes were pretty varied, though a couple of superhero movies had conspired to drop significantly more Amazonian warriors and Daddy's Little Monsters in our midst. But besides that, it was the usual assortment of sexy nurses, cops, tigers, schoolgirls, librarians, and devils.

I headed over to the bar, paid a steep charge for a lower quality vodka in a plastic cup, and tried to summon up some enjoyment. Since the cabin and the corresponding vandalism, I'd been in a funk. Not a bad one like dreaming about Sienna during a drunken shower, but a funk nonetheless.

I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned around to see a guy dressed in a toga proferring a wooden paddle. He looked like a punk grocery store clerk, half his head shaved and both ears gauged. "Please? If it isn't too much trouble?"

I held up my right arm, showed him my wristbands. "Sorry dude, not my cuppa. There's a guy dressed like the Lone Ranger, usually hangs out by the tents, he should be able to oblige."

He practically ran off. "Good luck!" I shouted after him.

Nobody in the cantina area caught my eye, so I ordered another vodka and wandered on. I strolled past the chainlink, stopped to watch. Mostly women, mostly undressed, cuffed to the silver fencing in various positions being cropped, caned, whipped, or paddled by roughly even mix of men and women, a chorus of pained cries and orgasmic moans rising from the play area.

I wandered on. I just wasn't feeling it. I'd caught a Selector date or two since the cabin, but they'd just been exercise with random people, no more enjoyable than the barbell workouts I'd thrown myself into now that the cold weather was making running painful.

The tents were a hub of activity, couples and groups waiting to get in, in various states of foreplay as they waited. Buckets of condoms, lube bottles, and unused sex toys were scattered around, and cries of enjoyment and agony echoed out of the nylon huts.

Into the rows of shelving, and I found myself among the tarp rooms, each one filled with a crowd of people, all gathered around a preferred sexual activist, or one they were curious about. One room featured a handful giving spanking demonstrations, showing off the use of paddles vs hands, diaper position vs over the knee vs standing.

Another room had two men demonstrating various knots on a man and woman, surrounded by a crowd of onlookers.

The next room was somewhat less crowded, five or seven people either drinking water or urinating on each other in a kiddie pool.

Behind that were a gay room and a lesbian room, both of which I did not stop to visit.

A large space had been cleared and separated with tarps, furniture arranged within it, most of it made by a company that specialized in cutting foam into unique shapes. People milled around, talking, drinking, watching the couples fucking on the furniture.

Why not?

I looked around for a woman by herself, found a few watching the action. And I went for the one with the most unique costume. Nurse, superhero...nope. I walked up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder. "Having fun?"

She turned back, stringy green-dyed hair contrasting with her white pancake makeup and wide red smile. "Yes, sir." She saluted.

"Cuz you look way to serious." She laughed at my joke. "Why aren't you hooking up, having some fun?"

"Eh, haven't found anyone yet."

I looked at her wrists. Blue and white wristbands. "What's your name?"

She looked down. "Carole. You?"

"Gary. You want to try out that big big u-shaped piece? I've never used one before."

"Really? You want to?"

"Yeah, why wouldn't I? You're not here for the drinks, I assume. If you are, I'm sorry."

She took a breath, made up her mind, and curled into my side. "I've gotta warn you, I'm not quite as skinny as she is." Carole pointed to a rail thin blonde wearing a tiny black dress and bunny ears getting drilled from behind over the arm of a couch.

I looked Carole up and down. Her legs were sheathed in ripped nylons below a short purple skirt. A bra and an unbuttoned purple sport coat covered her untoned, but not quite flabby upper half. "You don't think I find you sexy?"

"No one has yet tonight." I didn't say another word, just grabbed her sleeve and headed towards the furniture.

The piece I wanted to try was a pink block of foam approximately the size of a refrigerator laying on its side, a deep curve cut out of its middle. I gently pushed her back onto one of the raised ends. "Oral?"

She seemed nervous, but she swallowed, swallowed again, and said "Yes please."

I pushed her back onto her elbows and ran my hands up her legs to coil her skirt around her waist. Her legs were a little thicker than Tori's or Nina's, but it looked like she tried to take care of herself. Occasionally. I pulled aside the strap of her panties to find that she was already wet and aroused. She'd shaved, somewhat inexpertly, getting most of her vulva and very little of her ass crack. I felt an irrational desire to shower and shave her myself, then eat her out, throw in a little rimming.

I slid two fingers between her parted labia, and her breath hitched as I slid into the liquid heat. She reached one hand down to hold herself open for me, her other squeezing one breast through her bra. "You're ok with...oh shit!" I licked her from my my fingers to the top of her slit, then locked my lips over her clit and sucked, my tongue flicking it with increasing violence as my fingers stroked her inner walls. I kept it up, and just before I thought she was about to explode, I pulled back and slid my two drenched fingers up and down the excited nub, almost scrubbing it I was so vigorous. Her legs shook, and then she pushed me back with a burst of energy. "I need you in me."

There were buckets of condoms on either side of furniture, and as she worked my faux plate carrier off with a loud tear of Velcro, I pulled my pants down and rolled the rubber on. Carole was a frenzy of lust as she pulled my shirt up, kissing my chest frantically before bending herself almost in half to take my protected prick in her mouth. She moaned around it, pushing hard at it with her tongue, manipulating it side to side. Satisfied with its wetness she raised her head, and maintaining eye contact with me, spat on her hand, then pulled her pantries to the side to rub the saliva into her lips. Then she started down, angling my cock back to where it could slip into her.

Feet on the floor and her hands on my abs, Carole squatted, lowering and lifting herself over and over, the torque on my member increasing the pleasurable sensations. She didn't have the incredible muscle tone of my usual playmates, but she compensated with enthusiasm. If I had to guess, she'd been looking for someone to make her FEEL sexy.

As she bounced on my lap, Carole opened her legs, her knees spread far apart, showing me our joining. I decided to take the initiative, pistoning my hips up, pounding into her. She cried out and bent forward, clutching me to her. "You like my cunt?" she whispered in my ear.

I pushed her back with my hand loosely clasped around her throat. "Fantastic." I pulled my hand back and slapped her green-covered breast. She arched her back with an "Uhgn!" and the expression on my face told me I'd stimulated her mind far more than her body. I slid my hands down the cheap green material to her white cotton thong panties, resting it on her pubic mound while strumming her clit. She leaned back, eyes closed appreciatively as the two of us chased her explosive enjoyment. "Dirty girl," I growled at her. "I should bend you over and take you from behind. Bet you'd like that, being held down while I..."

Carole lit off with a scream, and I had to grab her waist to keep her from injuring me as she jerked her hips forward and back. I pulled her down to my chest and kissed her neck roughly while pushing her arms behind her back and grabbing her wrists. She turned her head to look at me with unfocused eyes across centimeters of space, her heaving breath hot on my face, and gave me a satisfied smile.

I growled at her again and flipped us over, bending her back against the edge of the cut foam. I pushed her short skirt up to a purple crumple around her hips and, releasing her wrists and gripping her hips as I pounded into her. Carole grunted in time with the thrusts, pushing herself back down onto me as I took charge now, trying to keep up and failing. I pulled my hand back and smacked her ass, pulling the slap, the angle making it difficult to get a firm stroke on her buttock. She shrieked loudly, and decided not to compete with me anymore, stretching her arms up over her head, lifting and presenting her tits in the process. I had to admit, they were quite nice.

I felt the familiar tightening in my groin and I pushed forward as far as I could, then again, trying to cram another half inch of dick into Carole, grinding my hips into hers to set off my own climax. I pulled her crotch right against mine as my balls unloaded, a contracting and releasing surge of tension and pleasure that left me tingling and exhausted in its while.

I staggered upright and away, knotting the condom and disposing of it in one of the locked disposal boxes, then slumped back down beside Carole and started pulling my pants up, reattaching my costume before helping the sweating middle aged woman readjust her super villain costume.

"Care to to switch?" I looked up to see the guy and girl from the couch standing above is. The guy was an absolute Adonis, chiseled muscle from the waistband of his suit pants all the way up to his temples. I'm not a slouch in the weight room, but the hard angles impressed and slightly intimidated me. His partner was a long-legged blond with a lean, muscular frame and an angular face that looked European.

Carole looked at me, like I had some veto power over her decision. She seemed shocked that now two men, one a mountain of muscle, had found her attractive. I have her arm a pat. "Go for it. Have fun."

Without giving her a chance to object I rose and started pulling the plate carrier off again. "Sounds great, I'm Gary."

Carole opened her arms as the human refrigerator lowered himself to the foam divot and began sensuously kissing my green haired partner.

I led his partner back to the couch they'd vacated, passing other pieces of real or intimate furniture occupied by intertwined couples in various states of costuming. I'd wanted to get away from Carole somewhat quickly. The minutes I'd spent with her gave me the impression she wasn't going to easily separate sex from emotion, and I wanted to give her a chance to overload on both so she didn't didn't come to associate just me with either.

I'm not egotistical enough to think that I was going to make her fall in love with me after a few orgasms, but I didn't want her clinging to me the rest of the night after I'd made her body feel both great and appreciated.

I turned my attention back to women before me. Dammit, she could be a model. From the way her hips twitched in the black dress to the tone of her calves to her perfectly feathered blond hair. She lay back in the couch, one leg hooking over the back, the other splayed off onto the floor. She looked me over lazily and extended a hand. "Anya. Pleased to meet you, Gary."

We shook, and she hiked the dress up, revealing a glistening snatch shaded deep pink with arousal and exertion, and a puff of white fur protruding from her buttcheeks, a bunny tail to go with the ears.

I grinned as I grabbed and slid a condom around my now revived shaft.. "You're cute."

"Girls are cute. Women are hot." Anya pulled at me as I settled in between her widespread legs, notching my rubber-covered head into her and tunneling forward into the constricting pink flesh. She arched her back and clutched her breasts, kneading them hard. I grabbed her flanks and used my grip to pull, really getting going, hammering a chorus of "uh uh uh..." out of her to complement the slap of skin. Anya wasn't a passive partner letting me do all the work, she rolled her hips, bouncing her ass up and down as I speared into her.

Adjusting my aim I sucked up a bit of saliva and let it drool from my lips to drop on her parted labia, then reached down to rub at her clit, going slow, picking up speed as her moans took on a more urgent tone. I grabbed one of her hands and directed it to rub instead of me, then bent over her, seizing the arm of the couch behind her head and using it for leverage.

Hovering mere inches above the beautiful woman below me, I let my mind go blank, taking in the sounds of the rutting couples around me, the creaks of furniture, the cries and groans and sounds of colliding bodies. Just raising my head I could look around and see five other configurations of copulating humans, and a quick glance back showed me three more, including the mountain of a man I'd swapped with bouncing the evil clown I'd fucked first on his lap like she weighed nothing, Carole howling like a banshee.

Beneath me, Anya climaxed, clenching down on my dick as she arched her neck and bared her teeth, gasping as the sensations shot through her. I grabbed her long hair and pulled her head to the side, biting her neck. Not so hard as to break the skin or leave a mark, but hard enough that she felt my teeth and got a sense of my control over our encounter. She groaned loudly and bore down on me, her body visibly vibrating with pleasure.

I pulled back and twirled my finger in the air. Anya got the idea, and rolled over, one leg bent on the couch cushion, one high heel on the floor keeping her well muscled leg extended and presenting her ass perfectly as I rose to my knees. I tugged gently at the buttplug tail, and she reached back to slap my hand away playfully. "Stop, that is for Phillip."

Instead, I tugged down the zipper on her dress, reinserting myself into her slick channel before leaning forward and sliding my hands around her bare back to palm her tits. They were average size, and seemed to be extraordinarily sensitive, if the whimper she produced as I rolled the nipple between my fingers as I pounded against her backside was any indication.