Per Anum Ch. 02: Singles' Soiree

I had to park on the street because the driveway was filled with cars. That seemed to suggest I was in the right place, which my GPS corroborated, but I pulled up the invitation I'd received to double check.

"Don't spend Valentine's Day alone--you're invited to the Singles' Soiree, the most exclusive party of the year. Only the hottest make the cut, so don't miss out!"

The address provided matched the house I was looking at, but...was I really going through with this? I still half expected this to be some kind of scam, or worse. On the other hand, I could really use some fun. I'd been out of commission for too long; maybe it was time for me to get back on the horse. If it turned out to be less than I hoped, I could always just leave.

Feeling self-conscious but resolved, I got out of my car and and headed for the door. The house was one of those sprawling ranch-style places, single-storied but with multiple wings and additions sticking out in every direction. I knocked, and twitched in surprise when it was immediately opened. I opened my mouth...and froze, momentarily mesmerized by the man before me.

He was chiseled to perfection a marble statue would envy, six feet of flawless skin and rippling lean muscle. This was extra apparent due to the fact that his only attire was a clingy pair of near-transparent white boxer briefs that hugged so closely they might as well have not existed. Finely wrought features beneath glossy black hair surrounded blue eyes that danced with amusement. If I'd been a cartoon canine, my tongue would have lolled out of my mouth and onto the floor.

"While it's nice to be appreciated," he said, a little smirk on his lips, "it's also damned cold out here. You coming in, or what?"

Oh, right. Winter. I was feeling rather warm all of a sudden, myself, so it took me a moment to compute the issue. "Yes, sorry. You caught me by surprise, is all." I stepped forward, and he only barely moved, forcing me to rub against his body on the way through the door. Something about that move tickled the back of my brain.

I mean, it tickled something else, too, but that particular organ isn't known for being overly concerned with details.

"I'm glad you could make it, Nick," he said, closing the door. "I was starting to worry you weren't coming."

Hearing him say my name settled it. A flash of memory, that same voice gasping my name, that beautiful body writhing beneath me...

"Hello, Dante," I said, suddenly certain. "I wasn't sure you'd remember me."

"Of course," he replied. "We may have only hooked up the one time, but it was only a few months ago. That's the reason you're here, after all. If I didn't remember you, you wouldn't have been invited."

"I didn't realize this was your party," I said.

"Oh yes, I do this every year." He was clearly delighted to share the story. "I keep track of my favorite hookups throughout the year, and then invite them here all at once on Valentine's Day. It makes for a hell of a party." His previous smirk had grown into a wicked grin. "The hottest, best hung, and most multi-orgasmic guys I met last year are all under one roof tonight. You're all three, so of course you made the cut for this year's lineup." I had to smile at that. He was right, it was nice to be appreciated.

The rumble of male voices and laughter echoed down the hallway from the front door. "Speaking of which," Dante said, suddenly brisk, "let's get to it." He went over to a little side table, grabbed something, and turned back, offering the item to me. It was a black plastic garbage bag, still folded up from the box. A piece of white masking tape with "Handsome Nick" written in clear block letters was stuck to the bag. I could only roll my eyes.

"Strip," he commanded. "Put all your stuff in here, and I'll lock it up with everybody else's. That way everyone leaves with everything they came with."

Strip? Like, all the way? Right here, in the foyer? I guess I should have known what kind of party this was from how Dante answered the door. In for a penny, in for a pound...or in this case, a pounding, hopefully. I kicked off my shoes, then started pulling off my coat and scarf while Dante shook out the bag, which proved to be the high-volume sort.

I jerked my chin at the bag as I shoved my outerwear inside, making sure my shoes were on the bottom. "Smart. Simple, but effective."

He nodded. "The first year I did this, I didn't have a system in place. I kept finding leftover socks and dirty underwear all over the house for like a week."

I chuckled, pulling off my shirt. "Yikes. Nobody wants that."

"You're telling me...oh, my." His voice trailed off as I put my shirt into the bag. Shit, I should have realized. Glancing up, I found his eyes locked on my neck, because of course it was.

The scar tissue covered the rear left side of my neck and the top of my shoulder. "It's not as bad as it looks," I said quietly. "How does the saying go? Something something skin deep?"

His gaze jerked up to meet mine again. "I'm sorry, I just didn't know. Talk about catching someone by surprise. When did...how...But no, you don't have to talk about it. I'm sure you're sick of explaining it all the time."

I appreciated that, but better to get it out of the way. "It's okay. To make a long story short, it was a collapsing roof beam. Just a couple of weeks after our first meeting, actually."

Dante's eyes fell to the department seal tattooed on the inside of my left forearm. "Of course. I'd forgotten you were a firefighter." He smirked, regaining some of his flirtatious aplomb. "I should have made you bring your hat. Ooh, or the pants with the suspenders! Mmm." His grin returned at my snort. "Hey, can you get me one of those sexy fireman calendars? Or better yet, the phone numbers of the models?"

That wrung a laugh out of me. I added my pants and socks to the bag. "Most departments don't actually do those."

"More's the pity." His eyes raked me up and down, managing to both leer good-naturedly and not stare at the scar. "You could star in one, from what I can see."

"Maybe if they only shot from my right." Damn, that came out bleaker than I'd intended.

His lips pursed. "Actually," he said thoughtfully, "I think it suits you."

I stared. "Seriously?" The scar was a twisted, melted horror show. It really was only skin deep--my team had pulled the beam off me fast enough that there wasn't nerve damage or any of the many other nasty things that could have happened, which was frankly a miracle--but the skin was bad enough.

"Now that I've had time to look at it, yeah, I think it does. You were too pretty and boyish before. Be honest: how often were you carded at bars before that happened?"

"I don't know...a lot?"

"And how often since you got the scar?"

I thought about it. I hadn't been to a lot of public places like that since the incident, but there had been a few. "Come to think of it, I don't think it's happened once."

He looked triumphant. "See? You're what, twenty-seven, right?"

"Twenty-eight now, but yeah, close enough."

"I bet you could have passed for nineteen when we first met. Now no bouncer or bartender would dare question you, you look like too much of a badass." He paused, then added, "Besides, that scar has basically saved my party. If I wasn't the prettiest guy here, I'd be insecure, and it would ruin the whole night."

My laughter was interrupted by a long, low groan coming down the hallway, the kind of primal sound only a man experiencing intense pleasure can generate. Dante's head whipped around, and he cursed under his breath. "Sounds like the natives are getting restless. Hurry up, we need to get in there."

I pulled off my boxers, ignoring Dante's waggled eyebrows--not like he hadn't seen it before--and put them in the bag. He tied it shut and walked over to a discreet door on one side of the entryway. He opened it, put my bag inside the closet with what looked like a large number of similar bags, then snapped a combination padlock shut on the door.

"Safe and sound," he said. "Now, let's get this party started properly." Another masculine moan of pleasure, followed by cheers and laughter, accompanied his words. "Before things get started without me," he muttered. He set off down the hallway deeper into the house, and I could only follow, with my cock already twitching and growing with anticipation.

The main part of the house turned out to be an open-plan, U-shaped arrangement, with the kitchen, dining, and living rooms all encircling a semi-enclosed patio space. The kitchen, on the right from the entrance, was the picture of high-end modernity, all stainless steel and glass and complicated appliances I couldn't name, with a large island that was serving as the bar for the evening, judging from the number of bottles on it. The dining area, directly before us, contained a matched set of table and chairs all done in some dark wood, with a variety of finger foods and hors d'oeuvres spread across it. To my left was the living room, which consisted of one of those big L-shaped sectional sofas, a couple of reclining chairs, and a preposterously large TV on the wall, playing gay porn on mute. The patio, visible through arched windows and a sliding glass door, appeared to contain a hot tub along with the usual outdoor furniture. The entire place all but dripped money.

And it was absolutely filled with attractive, naked men.

I had to give Dante credit for one thing: the guy did not discriminate. Every ethnicity I could readily name was represented in the room, as well as several I couldn't. Ages ranged from college-ish late teens and early twenties all the way up to a silver fox type who had to be in his late forties, although he was in killer shape for the amount of gray in his hair. Body types varied almost as much; while about half of the thirty or so attendees were the same lean, well-muscled sort as me and Dante himself, it was only half. Slim, pretty twink-types were well-represented--several were hungrily eyeing the silver fox--and there were almost as many brawny bruisers towering over them.

It was one of the latter that had claimed center stage, proving to be the source of the moans that had lured us down the hall. Hulking and powerfully muscled, he was leaning against the dining table, head thrown back, dark mahogany skin almost a match for the wood. At his feet knelt a slender white guy, appearing all the slimmer and paler in comparison to his companion, with his head bobbing rapidly at the level of the big guy's groin. The angle was wrong for us to actually see what he was up to, but it wasn't hard to guess.

Dante rolled his eyes so hard I could practically hear it. "I should have known who had decided to jump the gun on the festivities."

"Sorry, Dante," the black guy panted, looking over at us. "He--mmmm--came outta nowhere. I just turned around and he--urrghh--latched on."

"It's okay, Darius, it isn't your fault," Dante said. "He's a compulsive size queen, and you're the biggest target in the room."

With a slurp, the kneeling twink joined the conversation, proving Dante's words as he extracted a frankly ridiculous amount of cock from his mouth. The thing looked as thick as my wrist; how the hell had that much dick fit inside such a little guy's mouth?

"They never see me coming. That's why they call me the Cock Ninja!" he crowed triumphantly.

"Nobody calls you that, Toby," Dante said, to general chuckles. "Also, consent is important."

"Like he couldn't have stopped me if he wanted," Toby snorted. He had a point there, Darius probably massed three of him.

"Still," said Dante, "that applies to everyone. You all know I'm pretty much an 'anything goes' kind of guy, but make sure everyone involved is willing in whatever you get up to tonight. Clear?" He gazed severely around the room, and we all nodded.

His magazine-cover smile returned, and he rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Good, then it's time to really get this party started. I know we've had some weird and tense times, the last few years, but hopefully all that is in the past. I have a good feeling about this year; I think it will be one to remember. So, without further ado, let the 2020 Valentine's Day Singles' Soiree commence! Save a load for me!" Applause and cheers rang around the room, which intensified as Dante--the only one wearing underwear--stripped off his boxer briefs and allowed his rapidly stiffening erection to pop out into the air.

He was dogpiled more or less immediately, half a dozen eager guys closing in around him with hard cocks of all shapes and colors leading the way. The mob drifted over into the living room, collecting more guys along their path like Dante was some kind of sex singularity and his gravitational field was dragging hot men into his orbit. They collapsed onto a big area rug inside the bend of the sofa, a huge mass of writhing limbs and thrusting hips that might have been nightmarish if it wasn't so sexy.

Dante's cock-cloud only consumed about a third of the partygoers, and men were forming pairs and groups all around. I noticed the silver fox settle into a recliner with a pair of twinks double-teaming him, sucking him in tandem and all but making out around his shaft. Toby, naturally, had Darius' enormous tool down his throat again, somehow, and looked like he was trying to swallow even more of it.

I headed for the kitchen/bar, intending on a drink before diving in, but I didn't quite make it. Just before I reached the bar, a guy with Asian features and a hell of a jawline stepped out in front of me. Shorter than average, he was a block of compact muscle; not as defined as someone like Dante, but all coiled power and fluidity that made me think he was a gymnast, or maybe a martial artist.

"I am Park Seung," he said to me, in a quiet voice. "Do you enjoy oral sex?"

I blinked, nonplussed by such an introduction...but on the other hand, sex party, so what the hell.

"Nice to meet you," I replied, "I'm Nick. And yes, I do enjoy--fuck!" Before I'd gotten halfway through the answer, he had crouched down in front of me, seized my mostly-hard cock, and started running his tongue up its length. His tongue slid up and down my shaft, then the tip danced around the head, making me groan.

I groaned louder when his lips wrapped around my cock and smoothly glided down, swallowing me effortlessly. Any lingering softness was well and truly gone now; I was stiff as a board and Seung seemed determined to get his mouth over every inch. My cock is not a small one, but he never slowed until his nose hit my pelvis, and that was just a momentary pause before pulling back off so he could do it again, and then again. I had to brace one hand on the kitchen island to keep my suddenly wobbly legs from folding, the other falling instinctively to his head.

"You are remarkably good at that," I managed. Seung's only response was a hummed acknowledgement. Fuck, that felt good. My breathing had gone ragged, my world shrinking down to the slick heat of his mouth, the tightness of his throat. One of his hands found its way to my balls, and he started gently rolling and playing with them. His other hand wandered up my body, caressing my thigh, tracing the ridges of my abs, toying with a nipple, multiplying the sensations overwhelming my brain.

Distantly, I was aware of the cacophony around me. Groans of pleasure, exclaimed curses, and wet slurping noises filled the house, my own among them. Behind Seung, I noticed a huge hairy bear of a man, a six-and-a-half foot wall of muscle and fur, leaning against the kitchen island where I'd been heading. With one elbow on the countertop and the other idly stroking his heavy cock, he was watching Seung's masterful display of cocksucking with rapt attention.

Around the room, the party was in full swing. Several guys had braved the cold to venture out to the hot tub, and were taking turns sucking each other in the frothing, steaming pool. Dante's sex-pile in the living room had shaken out into two groups, with about half of them in a rough circle on the floor, each man sucking the next. Dante was kneeling, frotting one guy while another was pressed to his back, grinding his cock into the cleft of Dante's ass. A fourth stood over them, with each of the three sucking and licking at his cock, balls, and asshole.

It had been a long time for me, and the pressure was building in my balls. I'm usually good for more than one round, but blowing twenty minutes after arriving seemed too soon.

"Seung," I panted. "Seung, hold on." I gently tugged him off of me. "I feel bad with you doing all the work," I said to his aggrieved expression. "Tell me," I grinned, "do you enjoy oral sex?"

"I do," he replied, in that same quiet, oddly formal tone he'd used before. "But I actually prefer being rimmed to being sucked. Is that acceptable to you? I assure you that I am extremely clean."

That I did not doubt. Something about this guy made me think he was the meticulous type. "Absolutely," I said, "I'd be happy to." I pulled him to his feet and turned him around. There were a couple of barstools up against the island, so I pulled one out and bent Seung over it.

His ass was a thing of beauty, twin globes of taut muscle, and I didn't hesitate to palm one in each hand. Crouching down, I pulled them apart and ran my tongue around the circumference of his hole before licking my way inside. Sure enough, it didn't even taste sweaty, just...male. Every flick of my tongue produced a sharp, staccato sound from Seung, helpless little "ah! ah!" noises that were adorable coming from such a self-possessed person. The squirming made it even better, like he couldn't decide whether to push his ass against my face or pull away.

A shadow fell over us. "Hello, I'm Gabe," rumbled a deep voice. Glancing up over Seung's back, I saw the huge guy I'd noticed earlier had approached. "I also enjoy oral sex. Would you--shit! You're not a half measures kind of guy, are you?" Seung, in what was apparently his signature move, had seized Gabe's cock before he'd finished talking and stuffed most of it into his mouth.

Humming contentedly, Seung slurped and sucked on Gabe, just as relentless as he'd been with me. I redoubled my efforts, determined to match him. Someone's hand roamed down my back and groped my ass, but I kept to my task and they went away. With a wet sound, Seung pulled Gabe's cock out of his mouth and glanced back at me.

"Use your fingers," he said. "I would like for you to fuck me, please." Oh, hell yes. My own cock, left neglected since I'd started rimming him, was achingly hard and dripping, with a gleaming strand of precum connecting it to the floor. I looked around for lube and was surprised to find it everywhere (though I suppose I shouldn't have been.) There were huge, industrial-sized pump-top bottles of lubricant on basically every flat surface in the house, including the island-turned-bar right beside me. I immediately set to work, sliding a slick finger inside him, followed quickly by a second.

Darius and Toby had already found the bottle on the dining table. An ecstatic cry made me glance over, and I was able to watch Darius pushing that mammoth tool into Toby's hopefully well-stretched hole. Toby was facedown on the table, his eyes rolled up in bliss, and my angle let me see Darius slowly but relentlessly slide every inch into him.

The rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh had joined the chorus of moans and cries that filled the air. One guy was laid out lengthwise across the back of the sofa, with his legs in the air and another guy pounding away at his ass. Dante and his three companions had paired off, with Dante topping the one he'd been frotting while the man who'd been standing over them fucked the other. The silver fox, still in his recliner, had one of his pair of twinks riding his cock while the other sucked his partner, the two swapping places as I watched. Not six feet away, a well-muscled Latino was bent over with his hands braced against the fridge, getting fucked hard and fast by a lean man with a swirling tribal-style tattoo and the olive-skinned good looks of the Mediterranean.