The Longest Day of the Year

[This story has some connections to my other works (it's a very loose prequel to Seducing Anya, taking place some years before that series). However, you can read it as its own standalone story. Be aware, this story features exhibitionism, cock worship, pissing, drunk sex, drug use references and an element of reluctance. Avoid if those themes trouble you.

All characters involved in sexual situations are aged over 18.]

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It was the summer solstice, the sun blazing down from the early evening sky onto the parched fields and forested hills. It shone in through the wide picture windows of a sprawling country house, into a huge sunken-floored living room filled with young men and women in varying states of intoxication. It glinted off a forest of bottles and cans, gleamed off puddles of spilled booze on the polished pine floor, and lent an almost artistic illumination to the rapidly-growing mess.

Standing in the crowd of drunk and sweaty partygoers, Essie shaded her eyes from the glare and sipped from a mixed drink that was pretty much neat vodka, grimacing at the taste but glad of the alcohol. She was watching the latest round of an interminable game of beer pong. Sven, the host and birthday boy, was trying to land an underhand trick shot that would have been extremely difficult even if he was sober. Now that he was roaring drunk, it was proving impossible. Essie rolled her eyes as she watched him miss the cup by a mile. The ball clattered into a far corner of the living room and the onlookers jeered.

Essie and Sven knew each other from university -- he'd tried to sleep with her once, she'd refused, and since he'd been refreshingly chill about it, they ended up becoming friends. They hadn't met up very often since graduation, so she'd been surprised and flattered when he invited her to his parents' grand house in the country for his twenty-third birthday party. Now she was starting to wish he hadn't bothered.

Her housemate Trina (herself a friendly ex of Sven's) had given her a lift from the city. It had been a long drive through the increasingly wild countryside, winding among the sun-drenched farms and dense woodland and the occasional glittering blue lake. The further they drove, the more her heart sank, as she realised just how far from civilisation they were going.

The house was heaving with people by the time they arrived. Essie quickly found it overwhelming, bordering on oppressive. Sven was a good guy to hang out with one-on-one, but in a big drunken gathering, he turned into a loud, obnoxious, swaggering presence, and most of his friends seemed to be the same. At a party full of thoroughly spoiled rich kids, a suburban girl like Essie was unquestionably the odd one out. It didn't help that she hardly knew any of their names. Though the more time she spent around them, the more she was glad that she didn't know them better.

There was only one person at the party who at all interested her. Cal, one of Sven's old high-school friends. He was tall -- easily six-foot-three -- and distractingly handsome, with raven-black hair, striking blue eyes and a male model's perfect jawline. Hard muscles showed through his shirt, but it was a lean and athletic musculature, rather than a bodybuilder's bulk. She guessed that he was around the same age as Sven, and so a year older than herself. She'd noticed him almost immediately when she first walked into the living room. He seemed friendly, but so far, they'd yet to exchange any words. He was keeping himself slightly aloof from the others, apparently content to watch the party gathering steam, rather than diving straight into the drinking games.

Essie hadn't met Cal before tonight. She knew him by reputation, however. Her best friend Rachelle had hooked up with him at a club a couple of months before, coming home the next morning limping, bruised and glowing with satisfaction.

Rachelle had told Essie every detail, as she usually did. She said Cal was the hardest, most violent fuck she'd ever had. He'd handled her like a ragdoll, completely overpowering her, fucking her every which way, forcing her to orgasm after orgasm until she was a totally broken mess and her body was livid with bruises. It sounded absolutely horrible to Essie, but Rachelle -- a born masochist if ever there was one -- claimed it was the best sex of her life.

"Holy fuck, Essie, his cock was a monster," she'd said, with a nostalgic smile. "I've never seen one like it. Bigger than my fucking forearm, I'm not kidding."

Essie hadn't believed her at the time. She still didn't. She'd slept with plenty of guys, and not one of them had been more than a little above average. Even if Cal really did have a forearm-sized dick, wouldn't that make him practically useless in bed? How could any girl (who wasn't a pain junkie like Rachelle) get pleasure from having her pussy ripped wide open?

She couldn't deny that he was attractive, though. Not just because of his good looks; his calmness and even temper really stood out at a party full of boisterous loudmouths. It was difficult to believe this friendly-looking dude had broken Rachelle in half. Which was a hot thought in itself; an angel-faced guy who fucked like a demon.

Essie wasn't at the party to hook up. She didn't fuck as freely and casually as Trina and Rachelle did. If she was going to have risky drunk sex with a stranger, she'd rather it be in her own comfortable bedroom after a night out in the city, not at some house party way out in the sticks. Tonight, she just wanted to drink.

Except -- she'd noticed something else. Something that sent a quiet, curious tingle through her pussy. There was an unmissable bulge in Cal's shorts, a suggestion of his manhood resting over his thigh beneath the loose fabric. The dickprint was beguilingly long and frighteningly thick; it was subtle when he stood still, but it shifted heavily and obviously when he walked. Essie tried not to stare at it, but it kept drawing her eye. She noticed several of the other girls were similarly fascinated. God, she thought, was Rachelle telling the truth after all?

She found out soon enough. Things started getting out of hand as the beer pong game drew to a close. The final few rounds saw a couple of the more drunk girls mischievously flashing their breasts to distract the players. Whoops and whistles accompanied every glimpse of perky nipple. Then the same girls tried to take the distractions up a notch by making out together, with plenty of sloppy tongue. It definitely worked, as the ball stopped going anywhere near its target. At last, the game was abandoned altogether. People began to debate what to play next. Every suggestion seemed to have "strip" in the name.

And then Sven, drunk and shirtless and swaying, hooted: "Cal, show us your donkey dick!"

There was some uneasy laughter as all eyes turned to Cal. He'd been chatting to a girl by the drinks table. He glanced aside from her and gave Sven an amused look. "Really, man?"

Sven grinned piggishly. "Come on, get it out!"

He was echoed by a couple of his buddies, then by several of the girls, and before long most of the room was chanting "Do it! Do it!" Essie didn't join in, but she stared again at that fascinating bulge. The longer she stared, the bigger it seemed.

"Fuck it, alright! If it'll shut you guys up," Cal laughed. He set down his drink and turned to face his audience. With a casual smile, he unzipped his fly and let his cock unfurl from out of his shorts.

The packed room was filled with a chorus of shocked gasps, lewd whoops from the guys and squeals of astonishment and delight from the girls. Essie didn't make a sound. She just stared, her eyes as wide as saucers, her mouth hanging open in drunken amazement.

Cal's penis was enormous. Not just big, but genuinely gargantuan. Its great veiny length hung down between his lean legs, swinging gently. It was uncircumcised and girthy as hell, thick like a python. Rachelle hadn't been lying. Every guy Essie had ever been with was a minnow by comparison. And, although Cal's big balls were dangling heavily and there was definitely a hint of semi-erection in the way his huge glans peeked out of his foreskin, he was still mostly flaccid. This wasn't even him at his full size.

Essie's pussy swelled up with confused, scared arousal. The idea of taking something that huge inside her was terrifying, surely impossible. But from the moment she saw it, she badly wanted to try. It was like a key had turned in the corridors of her mind, unlocking desires she never knew she had.

"Oh my fucking God," a girl in the crowd exclaimed. "It's like a baseball bat."

"Is that it soft? Jesus, how big is it when it's hard?" someone else asked.

"Get a boner and show us!" a very drunk girl put in, to cheers of mock agreement.

"You'll make him pass out," laughed one of the guys. "No way does he have enough blood to run that dick and his brain at the same time."

"I don't care, I'll just ride him on the floor," the drunk girl said earnestly.

At the centre of this storm of attention, Cal grinned, totally at ease. He swung his cock jauntily from side to side, making the gigantic shaft sway hypnotically for his audience, who hollered and laughed in appreciation. "I'll take questions from the front row," he joked. And then, perhaps only by chance -- though it might have been fate -- his blue eyes met Essie's.

Essie's pussy, already pulsing with excitement, practically flooded at that moment of eye contact. Her heart fluttered in her chest. She couldn't hold Cal's gaze for long; her eyes flicked helplessly to his exposed manhood, drawn by its sheer enormity, and when she glanced up again the moment had passed. She tried to get a hold of herself, telling herself that he could have been looking at the girl next to her.

"Can I...touch it?" asked a skinny Asian girl, whose name Essie had once been told but now couldn't remember.

"If you're gentle," Cal replied casually. "No nails."

"I just want a feel," the Asian girl said. "I've never seen one this big before." She stepped forward gingerly. Another girl, a busty goth chick with an impressive array of piercings, followed her. More girls joined them, Trina among them. They crowded around Cal, cooing and whispering in awe, and began to lay their hands on his monster dick.

Essie wanted to join in. She wanted to know what it felt like in her hand, in her mouth, in her pussy. But she didn't have Trina's brash courage. She didn't want to have the whole party stare at her. She stayed where she was.

Trina and the others were eager to try all sorts of silly things with their huge new toy. They posed for photos holding it, kissing it, measuring it against their faces and forearms, holding up beer cans and bottles to compare with its girth. Cal stood there with a tolerant smile, letting them have their fun with him. It was obvious he was used to this sort of thing.

The more drunk and adventurous girls went further than just touching him. They jacked him off, rolling his meaty foreskin back and forth over his glans, marvelling at how many hands it took to cover his length. The Asian girl dripped lukewarm champagne onto the tip and licked it off, slobbering her tongue over his urethra while her friends cheered her on. The goth girl got to her knees and made a serious attempt to suck Cal's dick right there in the living room. She must have been a very experienced cocksucker, because she got nearly half of it down her throat, her lips stretching cartoonishly around its savage thickness, before she tapped out. She drooled and gasped for air as Cal considerately pulled his shaft out of her abused mouth.

The whole thing was filmed by a dozen smartphones. None of the performers, least of all Cal, seemed to care. Essie guessed those videos would probably surface on the internet sooner or later.

Cal exposing himself seemed to be the catalyst for a change in the party's whole vibe. Everyone had been drunk and rowdy already, but now real debauchery was in the air. Instead of giving cheeky flashes of boob, numerous girls decided to simply go topless. Shirts and tank-tops and bras came off, each one accompanied by cheers and laughter. There were some very lovely tits in attendance, Essie had to admit. The Asian girl's breasts were smallish and upturned, while the goth's were big and heavy, with silver ring piercings in her nipples. Trina, naturally, participated with enthusiasm. She did a brief, winking striptease before flinging her sequined cami top away to bare her large, round, tanned tits. One of the other girls promptly leaned in to lick her puffy nipple, grinning drunkenly for the cameras.

Essie considered taking her top off, too, preferably while looking Cal straight in the eye. Again, though, she was a little too self-conscious. She was slimmer and fitter than most of the other girls, and was proud of her sleek legs and taut gymnast's ass. What she didn't have was any rack to speak of. Her breasts were cute, perky and humiliatingly tiny.

Before long, Sven and two more of his friends had gotten their dicks out. They were decently endowed, and at any other party they might have easily become the centre of attention. But this party had Cal. Compared to his brutish monster, their cocks looked positively dainty. Still, they got their fair share of love from the girls, especially since they were a much less terrifying prospect for the female mouth. The goth chick was able to demonstrate her blowjob skills without having to unhinge her jaw.

Inevitably, things escalated to full-on sex. A tall, extremely drunk girl with braided auburn hair hitched up her dress (no panties, of course) and offered her shaved, plump-lipped pussy to Sven as a birthday gift. Sven didn't hesitate for a moment. He laid the girl down unceremoniously on one of the leather sofas and slid his hard, fat, recently-sucked cock inside her. The drunken throng crowded closer to watch them fuck, phone cameras recording from multiple angles. Essie queasily decided to back out of the room. She'd seen people having sex at parties before, but this was a whole new level of trashy.

As the tall girl moaned with pleasure, Essie glanced at Cal. He still had his cock out, but for the moment his harem was leaving him alone. And he caught her eye, again. He didn't wink or smirk at her. He looked at her like she was the only person in the room, as if the girls who'd just been worshipping him didn't even exist.

Essie went out into the corridor, the sounds of intoxicated sex following her. She topped up her drink in the relative quiet of the kitchen, hoping to steady her nerves. She hadn't expected things to get out of control so fast. She'd never felt so anxious and out of her depth at a party before. She was stranded, trapped out here in the remote countryside, with no ride home until Trina sobered up (which might be tomorrow, if she was lucky).

And at the same time, she was restlessly, distractingly horny.

By the time she dared return to the living room, Sven had finished fucking the tall girl. The girl herself became a victim of her own success; now the whole party knew she was an easy fuck. The poor thing was mobbed by boys wanting to take her to a bedroom for sloppy seconds. She ended up going with a guy Essie had met before, a complete douchebag that Trina had hooked up with once. Apparently he was a major cokehead and very mediocre in bed. The tall girl looked vaguely forlorn as she was led upstairs to her fate, with Sven's cum still dribbling down her leg.

More hookups followed swiftly, as the living room crowd started to disperse in search of more discreet places to fuck. Essie found it strange, seeing the couples (and triples) drunkenly sneak off together while the sun was still shining bright over the treetops outside. Of course, on this longest day of the year, it was much later in the evening than it seemed.

Cal was now nowhere to be seen. He wasn't in the living room any more, and neither were several of his earlier admirers. He's probably upstairs, fucking them all one after another, Essie thought glumly.

She soon had a more immediate problem to deal with. Several of the guys started to make advances towards her. It wasn't that she was a stranger to such attention. She was slim and pale-blonde and (no false modesty) very pretty, at least when she made an effort, and she had certainly made an effort tonight. It was just that the advances were all so clumsy, aggressive and unwelcome.

One of Sven's loutish friends pressed her against the wall outside the living room and tried to make out with her; his hand immediately started to slide under her skirt, and she wriggled free before he could work his fingers inside her pussy. Another boy crudely tried to feel her up as she sidled past him, and she slapped his hands away. Yet another, a lanky goateed guy with a cocaine-crazed smile, loudly said to his friends as Essie walked past: "Check out that little cutie with the tiny tits. I bet she's a squirter."

It wasn't just the men who wanted her. As she wandered through the crowded house, drinking a big vodka-coke and trying to find a moment of peace in the chaos, Essie was accosted by a curvy redheaded girl in a too-tight pink dress. She was one of the gang who'd been stroking Cal's dick earlier, and Essie immediately felt a surge of irrational jealousy. But it turned out this girl swung both ways, and while Essie wasn't interested in her, she was definitely interested in Essie. She was totally inebriated, even harder to get rid of than the guys, and very touchy-feely. She followed Essie around like an eager puppy, repeatedly trying to kiss her, cuddle her and caress her tits through her top.

"You're so hot," the redhead slurred, assailing Essie with her sour wine-breath as she tried to back her into a corner. Her sweaty hand stroked Essie's thigh, creeping upwards. "Come upstairs with me, let me eat your pussy. I'm really good at it. I'll make you cum. You're here alone, right? D'you have a boyfriend?"

When she felt the girl's fingertips clumsily rub her cunt lips through her panties, Essie flinched away in fear and revulsion. This was turning from sexual harassment to sexual assault. "Yes. Yes, I have a guy. Please can you get your hands off me?" she snapped. She shoved the redhead away with all her frightened strength, then wove her way through the crowded hallway towards the kitchen, trying to put as many people as possible between them.

On the way, she passed the open door to Sven's games room, where a big billiard table sat under hanging lamps. Cal was in there, leaning against one wall sipping calmly from a beer bottle, his giant cock hanging out semi-hard. The Asian girl and her pierced goth friend were both kneeling topless in front of him, animatedly kissing and licking his shaft. Strings of saliva gleamed between their busy tongues and his foreskin. Another bare-breasted girl was sitting perched on the tabletop, watching with tipsy impatience as she waited her turn. Sven was in the room too, sitting in a padded chair, grunting with satisfaction as he received a languid birthday blowjob from a fourth girl. That girl was entirely naked apart from her ankle socks. Her face couldn't be seen from the doorway as her head bobbed on Sven's erect cock, but Essie recognised her thick bronzed ass and tramp-stamp tattoo. It was Trina, blithely sucking off her ex.

It was such a surreal scene, Essie had to stop and stare. Cal made eye contact with her. He said nothing, but gave her a quick, cryptic smile. Despite her unease and drunkenness and the bizarreness of the situation, that smile still made her heart skip a beat. Once again, even with two random girls slobbering over his cock, he seemed to only have eyes for her.

*

The next problem Essie faced was quite mundane, compared to escaping the unwanted affections of drunken pervs and overly-amorous lesbians. She had been drinking all evening, and now she needed to piss.