Private Party (9 page)

The condom box was on the floor alongside Alejandro. I retrieved a handful and took them over to the other group. GymHotJock was sucking Toolbox, who was playing with Fornicasian’s arse. ‘You might need these later,’ I said gruffly, drawing their attention to them.

Toolbox looked me up and down. ‘Thanks,’ he grinned. ‘This your place?’

I nodded.

‘Great apartment.’

‘Mine’s better,’ GymHotJock insisted. ‘I’m higher up, face north and I own mine.’

Toolbox frowned. ‘Nice view,’ he remarked, staring at me.

GymHotJock began to boast about his own view, but then Toolbox pushed him aside and stood up. He beckoned me closer. I obeyed and he pulled me into a kiss. I was aware that GymHot’s monologue halted mid-sentence. However, when I glanced over at him a few moments later, he was being consoled by Fornicasian, who was sucking his cock. I was becoming quite lost in my embrace with Toolbox, when someone started curtly calling for my attention. ‘Hey, hey.’

Irritated, I broke away from Toolbox, wondering what new problem I had to deal with. But in fact, it wasn’t me that was required. SmartArse, now fully dressed, was trying to get his boyfriend’s attention. He was standing alongside him, his face like thunder, no doubt due to the large damp streaks across the front of his tee shirt. He’d obviously been in the bathroom sponging off what I’d done to his tee shirt. SmartArse tapped Butch-Bitch on the shoulder. ‘We’re leaving,’ he announced, shooting a glare at me. ‘This party is a shambles. It’s so disorganised. There’s nothing to clean up with and someone used my tee shirt as a cum towel!’

‘Yeah, yeah, in a minute,’ Butch-Bitch panted, in-between thrusts, ‘I’m in the middle of something here.’

A truer word was never spoken. Butch-Bitch was literally in the middle—he was fucking the blond guy while Alejandro serviced him from behind. SmartArse, however, was in no mood to wait and began to berate his boyfriend about leaving instantly. Toolbox and I stood back and watched, amused. Finally, incensed by his boyfriend’s non-compliance, SmartArse pushed Alejandro off Butch-Bitch. Anger flared in Alejandro’s face and he began to swear in Spanish, but SmartArse was unperturbed. He gave Alejandro a snooty look, turned his back on him and ordered Butch-Bitch to get dressed.

Alejandro was furious. He pulled the condom off his cock, tossed it into a nearby pot plant, and swore again. Meanwhile, Butch-Bitch had succumbed to his boyfriend’s insistence, abandoned the blond guy and was reluctantly dressing. Alejandro took a step towards them and for a moment, I thought he was going to pick a fight with SmartArse. But instead he just stood behind him, displaying himself to Butch-Bitch and jerking his cock with a serious measured stroke. Butch-Bitch gazed at him longingly, then shook his head and sat down to put his shoes on. SmartArse leant over to talk to his boyfriend and they conferred together in low voices. Moments before it happened, I realised what Alejandro was going to do. I recognised that look coming over his face. The back of SmartArse’s tee shirt was an inviting expanse of unsullied blue cotton. Alejandro took a staggering step closer to SmartArse, then gasped, ‘Oh man, I’m gonna shoot.’

Everyone turned to watch. The first spurt erupted across the back of SmartArse’s tee shirt, in the manner of a Jackson Pollock painting. SmartArse turned, alarmed, and the look on his face was priceless as a second spurt splashed down the front of his jeans. The final squirt was far less powerful: it dribbled all over SmartArse’s Nike shoes.

‘Oh yeah,’ someone muttered. ‘Wow.’

Initially, SmartArse simply looked stunned, but then fury began to flood his face. ‘Sorry dude,’ grinned Alejandro. ‘When I blow, I have no control.’

‘You did that deliberately,’ SmartArse accused him shrilly.

Alejandro shrugged. ‘Your boyfriend told me that he wants me to come over him. You got in the way.’

Butch-Bitch clambered to his feet. He was hypnotised by Alejandro’s handiwork and the state of his boyfriend’s garments. ‘Wow, you really shoot a lot. Man, I wish you’d done that over my chest.’

That remark was perhaps a little insensitive. It certainly riled SmartArse, who elbowed Butch-Bitch viciously. ‘Get some tissues. Clean it off me.’

But Butch-Bitch became a little defiant. He began to stroke himself. ‘You had your fun before, now it’s my turn. Just let me look at it for a sec,’ he pleaded, ‘and let me come. It looks so hot and I’m real close. Then I’ll clean it off.’

SmartArse was incredulous. ‘You what?’

But before he could remonstrate further, the blond boy had pushed him out of the way and was kneeling at Butch-Bitch’s feet, pumping out his chest. ‘Do it over me mate. Shoot all over me.’

SmartArse was fuming. He started to snap something back at his boyfriend, when he became aware that everyone had stopped what they were doing. They were all watching him. His eyes darted around the room, then fell upon me. ‘This party is an absolute shambles,’ he upbraided me and stormed off to the bathroom.

Once he was gone, Butch-Bitch waved Alejandro over urgently and the two of them began to kiss. Within a minute, Butch-Bitch began to come. Once he was done, he apologised for his boyfriend, then asked Blondie and Alejandro for their Gaydar names. ‘Quick, before he comes back. I’ll message you. We’ll do it again another time.’

With the entertainment over, Toolbox and I got back to what we’d started. A few minutes later, Butch-Bitch called out ‘goodbye’ and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him and SmartArse leave. They’d only been gone a few minutes, when the intercom sounded. I figured they’d probably forgotten something but I had no intention of letting that petulant brat back into my apartment. ‘Hey you gonna get that mate?’ Whopper called out to me.

‘Everyone I invited is here,’ I replied in an icy voice.

Whopper looked a little sheepish and I went back to kissing Toolbox. But then I noticed Whopper hurrying across to the intercom, and I darted after him. When I caught up with him, he was talking to a young guy on the video screen. I didn’t like the look of him. He was pale, skinny, and seemed kind of out of it. He kept mumbling that he was ‘here for the party’ but he didn’t even look gay to me. Whopper gave me a quizzical look. ‘I didn’t invite this one,’ he insisted.

‘Well, I certainly didn’t,’ I retorted. ‘You invited so many, perhaps this one slipped your mind.’

‘Well, if I did, he looks nothing like his photographs.’

‘Hey mate, buzz me in. I wanna get off,’ the guy demanded.

‘He is kind of rough and sexy,’ mused Whopper, his finger reaching for the button.

Suddenly, there was a noise over the intercom, and the guy was gone. ‘Where’d he go?’ asked Whopper, startled.

‘I guess he wasn’t the patient type,’ I said, turning away, only to discover that Toolbox wasn’t terribly patient either.

He was kissing Alejandro, but that suited me just fine. I hurried across to join them. I’d only just manoeuvred myself in-between the two of them, when the doorbell rang. ‘Damn,’ I muttered.

The guy hadn’t given up and gone away. Someone else must have walked into the building and he had followed them inside. ‘I’ll get it,’ Whopper called out eagerly.

‘Then you’re responsible for him,’ I called back sternly.

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Whopper agreed, hurrying across to the door.

I turned back to Alejandro, who began to kiss me very deeply. It felt so good to be pressed up against him once more. Meanwhile, Toolbox was licking my balls. I closed my eyes, delirious with pleasure. When I opened them again, I was confronted by what had to be the nastiest surprise of my entire life.

Damon stood just a couple of paces away from me, a fiendish grin on his face, those eyebrows raised in mock horror. ‘Hi-de-hi,’ he greeted me.

Automatically, I clasped my hands over my genitals to hide myself. I had never felt more bewildered. Damon’s presence made no sense whatsoever. Where had he come from? I looked wildly around the room. Where was the skinny boy I’d seen on the video intercom? There was no sign of him. Damon stepped towards me and put a hand on my shoulder. ‘I must say CSI that I’m shocked to find you like this,’ he said, all mock concern, ‘truly I am. I never imagined that CSI stood for Cheap Slutty Individual.’

Behind me, someone snickered.

‘You seem startled to see me Stephen,’ Damon continued. ‘I can’t understand why, when you invited me over. Shall I disrobe? Is that the procedure? You’ll have to excuse my ignorance. I’m a novice at this sort of debauchery.’

I was incapable of replying. I was too shocked and still trying to work out how the hell he had turned up in my apartment. Obviously Whopper had invited him, though it seemed impossible that Whopper had just happened to pick him out from all the hundreds of online profiles; unless they were already friends or fuck buddies or something. ‘Do you know him?’ I asked, pointing at Whopper, ‘because it was him that asked you over, not me.’

Damon gazed at Whopper appreciatively. ‘No, I haven’t had the pleasure but I’d certainly like to.’

‘He was in your Favourites,’ muttered Whopper.

‘No, he’s not,’ I protested.

‘You know, I recognised you on Gaydar as soon as I saw your profile,’ Damon continued, ‘even though you tried to mask your identity. You used that photo I took of you and Blake. I knew it immediately, even though you’d cropped Blake out.’

Then I realised: what Damon’s user name had to be, how appropriate it was, and how expertly I had been deceived and toyed with. ‘You’re Mischief?’ I accused him.

‘I certainly am,’ Damon smirked. ‘Mischief by name and by nature I’m afraid.’

He was so self-satisfied, which infuriated me. ‘How did you get in here?’ I demanded. ‘Someone else pressed the intercom for you.’

‘I hired a beggar from Darlinghurst Road. He couldn’t believe his luck. Twenty dollars to walk two blocks and press a doorbell.’

Damon beamed. He was proud of his trickery and ingenuity. ‘This is unconscionable,’ I scolded him. ‘I’ve never felt so violated.’

‘Really? I find that a little hard to believe,’ Damon retorted with another smirk. ‘It looks to me as though you’d been well and truly violated before I got here.’

That remark reminded me that I was naked in front of Damon. I glanced around for my underwear, but it was nowhere to be seen. I tried to recall when it had come off and where it might be, but there was too much charging through my mind for me to think clearly. However, it did make me aware of a first imperative: put some clothes on. That would at least be a start in redressing the terrible imbalance in power that I felt standing there naked in front of Damon.

Alejandro had placed a protective arm around me through my confrontation with Damon. I don’t think he understood what was going on but instinctively, he held me. I pulled free of him and dashed across the room to the sanctuary of my bedroom. It was occupied. GymHotJock was on my bed, straddling Fornicasian. He glanced around as I entered. ‘Ah good, I wanted to talk to you. Hate to tell you this but there’s a turd in your shower.’

I stared at him in disbelief.

‘I know. Disgusting, isn’t it? Best clean it up straight away.’

It was too much. I really couldn’t deal with anything else and certainly not with someone else’s stool. I crossed to my wardrobe and started rummaging around for some boxer shorts. But GymHotJock hadn’t finished with me. ‘Hey,’ he called out curtly. ‘There’s something else as well.’

The loaded way he’d said it made me turn back to face him. GymHotJock was staring at me intently. ‘I’m onto you,’ he said in an accusing tone. ‘I know
exactly
what you’re up to.’

‘Sorry?’

‘
Your furnishings
,’ he said with a snicker. ‘At first, I thought we just had remarkably similar taste. The same brand of television, the same armchair, but then I noticed the cushion, and I knew that couldn’t be a coincidence. Those were mine. Things I threw out and you’ve taken them, haven’t you, from the rubbish room?’

Fornicasian looked horrified. ‘Out of the rubbish bins?’

‘I’m not having a go at you,’ GymHotJock insisted. ‘I mean, it’s a form of recycling I suppose.’

GymHotJock’s tone made it plain he considered it cheap, nasty and desperate. Fornicasian began to giggle.

I’d had enough: of these two, of Damon, and everyone who’d descended on me uninvited. I just wanted them all out of my apartment. But then, the one person who might have been the exception, Toolbox, stuck his head in the door. I was disappointed to note that he was fully dressed. Obviously he’d come, was spent and was leaving. ‘Just looking for the bathroom,’ he muttered and disappeared again.

‘I wouldn’t go in there if I was you,’ GymHotJock called after him. ‘It’s awfully whiffy.’

I turned back to GymHotJock. ‘You know I’ve recycled in here as well,’ I said brightly. ‘The sheets on the bed for example I found in a dumpster behind Darlinghurst Road. But look at them. After a wash, they were perfect.’

GymHotJock and Fornicasian did look at them, and given that four other people had been fucking on them, they were far from pristine. The two of them exchanged a glance, then both scrambled off the bed, and were gone.

I turned back to my wardrobe and found a pair of gym shorts which I slipped into. I just felt like sinking down on the bed, closing the door and ignoring everything that was going on in the next room, until they all left. But suddenly he was there, Damon, standing in the bedroom doorway. Even worse, he’d actually taken his shirt and jeans off and was stripped down to his underwear. My first thought was that the photos on his profile had been genuine. Damon did have a nice body; still I was shocked to see him like that. I couldn’t believe he actually intended to partake in what was going on.

‘So, I remember you telling me CSI how much you love it doggy style,’ Damon said, his voice all insinuation.

I’d forgotten about the erotic confessions I’d made to Mischief. When I thought of some of the intimate things I’d confided about myself … it didn’t bear thinking about. Involuntarily, a cry escaped my mouth, a strangled sort of moan.

But still that wasn’t enough for Damon. He continued to torment me. ‘You have no idea how much I relished our correspondence CSI. I saved every message you sent me.’