The Dinner Party

Do you know that feeling in your body when you are about to do something critical? All of my skin tensed up. I felt an armor of tension running across my chest and belly. I breathed consciously and deeply, but my lungs simply didn't want to open and close that much. All that air breathed in still left me hungering for more. Slight chills ran over my body, yet I felt hot all the same. The only difference, I wasn't going into a situation where I had to perform. The moment was critical, but I had nothing to perform. Nobody would see the facial expressions on my face or my emotions.

I lay spread eagle naked on my back. My arms and legs were tied to opposite corners of the bed and stretched so tight that I couldn't wiggle an inch. My eyes were covered with swim goggles that had the glass blacked out with tape. On top of that was a blindfold. Not a glint of light came in. No matter how I tried to look in the corners, I couldn't peek. The utter darkness had dream like phantom colors chasing through my vision. My part was going to be completely passive, surrendered.

The only other thing I was wearing were two nipple clamps that were connected across my chest with a shiny metal chain. My body was smoothly shaved on the chest, sex area, and everywhere else. I had a medium build and low fat. With my clothes removed, there were nice ripples in all the places that muscles should be without being big. You can picture me as classically tall, dark, and handsome or the more popular label these days: a basic, white cis hetero boy in his thirties.

I lay there all by myself while they were still in the other room. I couldn't see anything, but I could easily picture my surroundings in my mind's eye because it was my girlfriend's Amanda and my bedroom. It was a small, bare East Village bedroom. The brick walls where painted white. The simple bed was pretty much everything in the room except for the pile of colorfully stained clothes in the corner, that was the floor protection for a recent painting project that was no rolled up inside of the cloths, paint, brushes, and half painted sculptures. We were artistic, broke, and Bohemian. The bedroom window faced directly into the brick wall of the neighboring building.

The door finally opened. An hour with a raging boner, I had anticipated this moment. I could hear the naked footsteps of my Amanda on the hardwood floor. She was probably naked. She had a kind of scrawniness about her. She had little body fat from always being on the move. She wasn't skinny. She had a sinewy strength from lifting art pieces and going to various dance classes. There was something blocky and elongated to her. Especially her fingers from crafting and manipulating so much material had an independent nature. It was like each finger could move and think independently because she handled such delicate things. Her hair was rolled together and pinned with a chopstick the last time I saw her. She dressed practical for her artwork and dance, but she loved to adorn herself with wooden art like a little sculpted thing around her neck. Even if she was naked, she would be adorned.

Next to her, I knew was one of her friends. But I could picture nothing. The spot next to Amanda was a white spot in my mind's picture. I didn't know which friend it was. I might have never met her. She could be tall or wide. She could be black or Asian. She could be a financial analyst or a gardener. She could be a tender introvert or an abrasive extrovert. That was the fun of the game, the not knowing.

My penis had been raging hard for an hour. The blood was fully pumped in to grow it an extra half inch and harden it. The boner stood away from my body. I expected that it would be the center of attention. Her eyes would be fastened to it. Perhaps, she was devouring the sight with gleeful joy. Perhaps, she was seizing up the girth and weight to imagine what she would feel and her capacity to handle it. I like to imagine that we all three were focused on it, me feeling, her friend exploring, and Amanda proudly showing off.

I carefully listened for footsteps to get a hint to Amanda's friend's build and temperament. While I could hear Amanda's familiar footsteps, those bony, smooth skinned, moist size sevens, her friend's steps were absolutely silent. They were moving because I could feel the left bottom of the bed sinking deeper from their bodyweight. They were climbing onto the bed. My anticipation became so intense that I had to let my mouth drop open to draw in enough air. The shaking of my skin got more intense.

They crawled closer to my groin. I could feel her friend's weight making a deep dent in the mattress next to my butt. She straddled me to squat over my penis. Amanda would have prepared her friend in the dining room so that we could get straight to it. I knew my penis to be inches from her bottom. Waves, explosions, and ripples of erotic arousal coursed in me, anticipating the delicious feelings. And Amanda, I recognized that clam and strong fingers, straightened my dick to point up.

Then her friend's rump lowered. I could feel the puckered opening of her friend resting against my pee hole. Then with a push, my penis moved forward. The miracle of the penis head pushing her anal sphincter apart was always an eternally awe inspiring experience like watching the sunset. Her anal sphincter closed behind my penis head. This is the best feeling of the whole session. The snug firmness pushed onto that extra sensitive part of the shaft right after the head. And then my dick slipped all the way in, vanishing.

I love the sensation of my penis in a bum, but even more is the mental knowledge of being inside of someone's dirtiest and most intimate part that's a turn on. I imagine all the stink inside there that people try so hard to hide. And there it surrounds my penis, my purest and holiest part of my body. And all that butt residue and small soaks into my penis skin. Her dirt molecules literally float in between the skin cells of my penis. And now I accepted her deepest, darkest, dirtiest parts into my body.

Next, I felt the big round head of the Hitachi wand vibrator gently against my pubic bone. I knew that Amanda was holding the wand against her friend's clitoris. With a snapping sound, the industrial strength hum turned on. My pubic hair felt a little tingle from it because really the force was aimed at her friend. Yet deep inside her ass, my penis could feel the vibrations inside her body. The magic wand is like a hurricane to turn on a woman. Within seconds, her friend was moaning. She was struggling to keep quiet because part of our agreement was that she could never give away her identity to me. The aim was to leave me wondering for eternity to whose ass I was inside. And it was for her to know that she had ass fucked my dick, while I was completely oblivious. Yet, she was also allowed to let out moans if it became intense enough.

The turn-on of a stranger, ass sex, and all put me so much on edge that moving the slightest would have had me balls blurt out the semen. Amanda knew. She kept her friend still on my ass to let my dick ache to get pushed over the edge but not receive it. Amanda was getting her friend good and ready with the wand. In my head, I wondered if she was playing with her friend's boobs or even making out none of these thoughts helped the slightest. I gripped the rope restraints around my wrists harder.

How did Amanda convince her friends for butt sex with boyfriend? I was never sure. All guys lust and dream of butt sex but so few lucky get it granted, but to Amanda it was very easy to talk her friends into it. Knowing her, she probably brought it up straight with a friend: "Hey, do you want to do something really taboo to my boyfriend?" It was in her delivery that she was unique. She made it seem like normal fun adventure. She left all the awkwardness and reality of "You mean him?" out of it. She proposed it as a purely fun adventure. Which woman wouldn't want to experience butt sex? Even if it's not her thing, almost anyone would at least want to try it out. And then it was as easy as that.

Her friend's cries became earnest - a long drawn out and pressed stammering whine. Her friend was pushing her pubic bone hard against the Hitachi. Her whole skeleton must have been rattling from it. I could feel her pussy juices oozing onto me. I could smell her sex fill up the room heavy with a tang. This one was definitely a hurricane of sexuality.

"Okay, start moving slowly," instructed Amanda.

Her friend lifted her butt up and down. All these rushes of delicious feelings spread out all over my body. Her movement was so small and gentle, but my dick was observing every millimeter of moving like a microscope. And thus in high definition, the dick painted every little glimpse of softness and firmness that I could feel inside of her ass.

Amanda placed her friends hand on the chain between my nipple clamps. I could feel her fingers - medium thick. Her wait rested on my chest. She was comfortable (or gone enough from sex) to fully rest on me without any polite reservation.

"When you come, yank the chain off," Amanda instructed.

The rule was that I wasn't allowed to come until her friend came. I had to do whatever it took to avoid coming until the yank on the chain signaled that her friend was coming. The best thing I found was to vocalize the horniness. I'd feel deeply into what the sexual pleasure on my dick felt like. Was it blissful? Was it pulling me hard? Was it warm? Was it yearning? I'd feel into that emotion and then vocalize it out. At first, I was moaning from the depth of my being. As I was on the edge of coming, I had to scream out the intensity at the top of my lungs, like someone sucks poison out of a snake bite, I was sucking the orgasm build up out of my dick and releasing it out of my mouth. The orgasm buildup got so hard that I was yelling with a force that was like punching. My vocal cords hurt like a bitch. The bare brick walls echoed my guttural screams back to me.

Rules were rules. I don't know how I managed to fight of the orgasm with the intensity of her friend's ass action on my dick. She went feverishly. My groans and screams were blasting her brain with horniness, like she had apparently never been fucked with that much passion before. I could feel her fingers tightening around the chain. My release was coming close. I didn't have a clue how I was able to hold out. I took all the air in and blasted a scream at the sound level of a jet taking off. I gave it my all to honor the rules. I was so far gone and beyond ordinary consciousness.

The nipple clamps got ripped off. The pain was so blinding that even with the blackout goggles I saw as much light as starring straight into the sun from a distance of a foot. Amanda had tightened the clamps as hard as I could take it. She had gone above her business to return ten minutes later. My nipples had gone a bit numb and had gotten used to the clamps. She tightened them again to my max and left. She had retightened them three times. So now that the clamps were ripped off, the blood suddenly rushed back and the pain was three times of what I could take!

I don't like pain. It wasn't for pain. But the adrenaline rush is a huge wakeup. My senses become hyper alert as if to face a saber tooth tiger for a critical moment. And the moment of shooting semen into her friend's ass gets burned and seared into my memory. Hyper aware, hyper alert, and hyper sensitive, my mind grasped, packaged, and stored every bit of sensation into forever storage, my dick in her ass, the pussy juices running down my groin, the smell her friend's sex, the little imprints of her body against mine. My balls were pumping and pumping. That white, pure potion was gushing into her and into her. And she was screaming and moaning and shaking... and finally collapsing.

They took her ass off my penis. I could feel that Amanda had to help her friend physically move. Her friend was physically out of it. This time as they walked away from the bed toward the dining room door, I could hear her friend's footsteps heavy and full on the floor. Her feet had become a little bit moist to leave a little bit of a smacking sound.

There I was left alone, naked, sweat covered, and blind in the cool room. My mind replied all the amazing, brain blasting sensations that her friend had given me. My dick slowly wilted and fell onto my belly. I could slowly feel my actual body again, arms and legs instead of some galactic, morphing shape that I felt myself be during the sex.

How did Amanda and I start this game? It started with us playing an art game. We could five friends together. The assignment was to go alone into our bedroom, which acted as a studio, then use your clothes to make artwork, and finally leave. We took turns. One of us would disappear into the bedroom studio. We were alone for a bit. We got to see the snail that a friend had built with a pair of pants as the house and pink panties as the feelers on the head. Then we built our own art. And we emerged naked. One of the girls kept her panties on but went bare chested. That was fine. Girls are more modest and sometimes have periods to deal with.

Then another time, we had a body acceptance party. We had twenty friends dancing and jumping around our entire apartment, bedroom, bathroom, and dining room in underwear. The point was to make everyone feel comfortable out their own bodies by showing our body and experiencing the diversity of bodies.

Over a cup of tea on Seventh Street, we talked about the next thing. And Amanda was the one to cross the threshold to try a sexual experience. It's all kind of art. How you pair people at a dinner party is an art. It's like mixing two ingredients and having a hunch to how the two people will react together. There is also a secret that Amanda wanted to get out of the experience, which I'll tell you later.

I started sobering up, lying there on the cool bed. The women had probably done a cool down session and cleaned up. I heard the doorbell ring. I started hearing louder conversation in the dining room. The doorbell rang a second time. I knew that all the dinner guests had arrived. Amanda would shortly untie me.

So she did. Amanda came into the bedroom. She lifted the goggles. I was blinded even though the room was in half darkness. She busied herself with undoing the ropes. I could sense that she was already very busy hosting and didn't pay too much attention to me. "You did well," she said and walked out again. I could see her wearing gray slacks. Her tight, small butt was wiggling. She was all chitter-chatter energy. She was barefoot with red nail polish. She was wearing a white blouse with lots of ruffles and a down to earth cotton fabric.

Part of the rules was that I wasn't allowed to clean my penis. Even if there was a little poop, I wasn't allowed to remove it. I snapped my boxer briefs over my soft penis. I slipped into pin stripped slacks. I put on a black t-shirt with deep v-cut and centered a Tibetan gold spirit chain on my bare chest. I slipped into a smart, gray sports jacket that was extra slim. The fabric was very soft, nothing like those expensive men's department store business jackets. It was simply a cheap thing from the corner thrift store.

I walked barefoot into the dining room. The room was modest. There was a table with fridge and kitchen counter squeezed near it. The dinner party was already running on high energy. Short sleeves arms were reaching to the bowl at the center of the table: grilled tuna stripes over arugula and quinoa salad with a drizzle of vegan César dressing.

The second part of the fun was trying to guess whose butt I had fucked. Nobody was allowed to see or guess. Any questions that hinted at guessing were strictly taboo like "Have you ever had butt sex" or "Do you have a boyfriend?" were strictly no-no. And the other two friends had no clue of what was going on.

The woman on my left was Bree. She was a trash cleaner for the subway. She sometimes worked late nights and was concerned for her safety. She was round. Being in her late twenties, her body was still firm enough to keep the extra fat in the shape of roundness. Her clothes were uni-colored. Her face was plain. She didn't display too many emotions. Her pants were practical cotton pants that fit tight. At one point, she was squatting down to get a dust pan from under the sink. The hem of her pants slipped down and exposed a five inch plumber crack. She definitely had the big butt that some black women have. I wondered if I felt enough size on my groin for it to be her. She seemed so plain and normal that it was hard to imagine that it was her. She also didn't say much.

The woman to the right was her complete opposite. Kiara had the type of black body frame with extreme elongated bones. Looking at her made me feel precarious. It felt like her hip bones were worryingly narrow. You couldn't even look at her for a second without being overpowered by her outgoing nature. She gesticulated wildly with her lanky arms and that giant orange candy like ball on her ring. She was an action firework of laughter, raised finger, and head shaking. When I did pull away long enough from her story telling to take her in, she was extremely styled. Her cheeks were shaped by purple makeup. Her hair was carefully pressed, shaped, and fixed in place with almost glue. She had some crazy extravagant designer dress. I found my eyes wandering the long sash like strap that went across her torso and then looking up the ruffles that looked like a Louis XIV extravaganza only to catch the slit that exposed her side boobs. Her stories went from a brunch in a pool with socialites at the Standard Hotel to an earth shatteringly deep conversation with a friend over Italian biscuits. She was an Instagram personality to promote a line of makeup. Part of me wanted her to be the one who had been on my dick because she had the hottest body. But with all her attitude of being special, I doubted that anyone had ever a chance of getting near her ass.

The third guest who was sitting to the right of Amanda was Jessica. She didn't catch a lot of attention because she seemed like a regular white girl. She had regular clothes from the Gap. They were nice and presentable boyfriend jeans and a sweater with a happy pig singing. She worked behind the counter of the bakery on Tenth Street. Her face had a permanent friendliness. She had pink lips, blue eyes, blond hair, and that happy good girl smile in her eyes and on her lips. She tried to work out but not too much. She read a book but nothing too serious. She liked eating out but didn't go crazy. She was so mainstream that I couldn't imagine her to agree to ass sex with a more or less random person.

So I was back to square one. One of these women had an ass orgasm on my dick about an hour ago. I was burning to look into her face and image my dick right in her forbidden zone. But I couldn't figure it out. I imagined my dick inside of Kiara. Could she change into such a different person once a dick in her ass made her upitiness shut up? Under a careful disguise, I glanced at Bree. Could her round body have felt so tight around my dick? I glanced at Jessica pretending to wipe my mouth with a napkin. Could such a freak hide under that modest pretense?

I play tested in my mind what Jessica's reaction would be to having my dick shoved up her ass. I tried to picture her face of surprise. Kiara would definitely be taken aback by the plunge. All her heady mind energy would be overcome by having to be in her body. It could have been very therapeutic to her. Bree would have definitely taken my dick in her ass matter of fact. Subway rats running over her feet and about nothing seemed to elicit a reaction from Bree that was more than a shrug and an "oh, yeah."