Sipping champagne, Bryce was surrounded by men, outrageously beautiful men -- not that he normally noticed such things, but God
-- and that meant Stanley was equally surrounded, which wasn’t helping Bryce’s mood. Currently Stanley was trapped between darkness and light on the other side of the room as the group belted out, “Happy Coming Out Day to you; happy Coming Out Day to you!”
Stanley didn’t appear distressed; in fact, as darkness whispered something in his ear, he flushed pinker than Bryce had ever seen him blush. There wasn’t enough champagne in the world for him to stand by and watch Stanley get taken advantage of. He blamed himself, knowing he should never have brought him. Poor Stanley was used to a little campus flirting. These guys were older, experienced -- very experienced -- and he didn’t want Stanley’s heart broken by a player.
The Coming Out Day boy in question beamed as his Aunt Tacky propped a rhinestone crown on top of his head. A cake was presented with a single candle to blow out, wishes made, and then it was time for gifts. As he opened his gifts -- bright paper torn and tossed -- he pressed the bows from his packages on his head and body. The gifts had a fairly standard theme -- dildos and butt plugs and lube, oh my. That’s a lot of lube.
And then it was game time. The guests were divided into groups and sent to different game stations. Bryce was left staring wide-eyed at a St. Andrew’s cross and a mask-wearing man with a flogger in hand. He backed away. “Oops! Wrong group. I’m supposed to be over there.”
Bryce hurried away, not caring that the masked man was laughing. He knew he was in over his head. He knew he needed to leave. Now. Not a second later! But he wouldn’t leave without his best friend. He hid. Far enough away to feel safe and inconspicuously shielded behind a potted palm, he scanned the warehouse for Stanley and found him sandwiched between the Goth and the Adonis in a mad game of very adult Twister. Stanley spun green and moved his hand, placing him in a bent position over the Goth. His bare chest was pressed to the blond’s back, and they were both giggling like children. But there was nothing youthful about the hard-on bulging the front of the other man’s leather pants. He had to get Stanley out of here.
“I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Bryce turned around and found himself face-to-face with the dancer. He gaped, mouth working like a goldfish before he finally managed to say, “You’re here,” which in his mind made him sound like a complete ignoramus.
The dancer laughed, sounding pleased. “I am.”
Bryce swallowed, speechless.
“I seem to remember you being very chatty before. I think you told me everything about yourself that you could, except for one thing.”
Smirking, the dancer leaned nearer. “I don’t know your name.”
“Bryce.” He stuck out his hand to shake and then immediately pulled it back, realizing he was really not being cool.
Bryce nodded because nodding seemed so much safer than saying anything else.
“Enjoying the party so far? Played any of the games?”
“I’m not a game kind of guy,” Bryce said.
“I don’t think you’ve found the right game then.” David snickered and pulled Bryce closer by his belt loop. Bryce licked his lips, thinking David might kiss him and wondering if he would let him or if he would be stronger this time around and push David away. David leaned closer. “I know what you’re thinking. That you’re in over your head here because really, Aunt Tacky’s parties are intense, but you’re also oh so curious. Come on; there’s a game behind door number one you are going to absolutely adore.”
“Really?” Wondering how David knew him so well, Bryce nervously allowed the other man to pull him into a segmented-off room that turned out to be as dark as the Moroccan room but much smaller. In the dark, he bumped into an unexpected wall. “Oh!”
Behind him, David laughed. “Relax. We have complete privacy now.”
Wrapping his arms around Bryce from behind, David rubbed Bryce’s chest and kissed the back of his neck. Bryce’s pulse started racing. I shouldn’t be here.
A delighted shiver slid down his spine. David found the edge of his shirt and pushed his hands beneath. He skimmed his fingertips over Bryce’s abs and higher, appreciatively rubbing his well-defined pecs. “That’s some body you have, mister.”
“Lacrosse, weights, running,” Bryce croaked out as David pinched and pulled his nipples, jerking need high and tight through his pelvis. “Mmm, that’s nice.”
“Just wait. It’ll get better,” David promised and slid his hands lower. He cupped Bryce’s balls through his jeans. “When’s the last time you allowed yourself pure hedonistic fun?”
“I don’t know.” Until that moment, Bryce had almost been able to ignore the fact that he was growing hard. David molded his body against Bryce’s back and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans. He pushed down his briefs enough for Bryce’s cock and balls to fall forward.
“You don’t know? Or never?” David teased.
Bryce thought his hands seemed entirely too warm -- scorching -- making him very aware that they were in a dark closetlike room, and his pants were down around his hips. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could catch them and expose him. Expose me? What am I thinking? I’m not gay. There is no exposure if there is no truth in the accusation.
Need tightened his balls. “Oh God.”
David pushed him closer to the wall, and Bryce braced his hands against it, unsure what the hot dancer had in mind but knowing not much could happen in this position other than a handjob. He was safe. Safe? What is that?
What was he thinking? A handjob didn’t make him gay? The fact that he wanted to be jerked off by David had him seriously questioning why he’d agreed to the party. Was it really because he wanted to save his friendship with Stanley, or had he been secretly hoping something like this would happen? Shit!
He didn’t know; he just didn’t know.
His eyes adjusted to the dark enough for him to realize something was peculiar about the small room and the wall he was facing. Another man entered and the light from beyond the curtain illuminated the wall, revealing several holes at just below waist height. Bryce’s eyes widened as the curtain swung back in place, blocking the light once again. He wanted a closer look, even though there was no denying what he’d seen. He’d heard about glory holes, he’d just thought they fell under the guise of urban legend, a fun thing to think about when alone in the dark, but not true, not really.
God, could he admit he’d had that particular fantasy?
How many times had he told himself the dream didn’t make him gay? But this? If he allowed this to happen, what would it mean?
Standing behind him, David wrapped his arms around him to stroke Bryce’s length, getting him harder, and then unexpectedly, or maybe expectedly at this point, David pushed a cool condom over Bryce’s hard cock and thrust it through the hole. Nothing happened. Bryce sighed with relief. What had he expected?
It was just a game. A cock tease, right?
David stayed molded to him, his heat searing him as he pressed his body along the length of his back, forcing him closer to the wall so that Bryce’s stomach was forced flat against it. Suddenly someone grasped his dick. Oh fuck.
A nameless, faceless someone was stroking him.
“This isn’t happening.”
David licked the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.
His penis, feeling separate and animated, in its own world on the other side of the wall, was being stretched, squeezed, then sucked into the vacuum of a warm mouth. Was he sure it was a mouth? Yes, a mouth. He could feel the cradling cushion of a tongue, the soft nip of teeth.
Whoever was sucking him knew what they were doing. Soft strokes. Fast sucks. Bites. Twists. Holy Mother of God.
Someone was panting. Oh God, he was panting, his chest heaving against the wall. David bit his neck, making him tremble and gasp, and then his hand slid down the back of his pants, teasing his crack. God, no. No no no. I can’t.
David circled the puckered rim of his anus and then pushed Bryce’s thighs wider with his knee. He pushed the halves of his ass wide, opening him, making Bryce feel exposed and vulnerable. Bryce had never...
No, this was the fantasy, the dark secret dream he had never allowed to move from mind to action. He’d thought about it, even touched himself when he was alone in the dark, but no one else had ever touched him there
. “David, no.”
“No? You don’t want this?”
I do; I want it.
“You can’t?” David circled his anus with his fingertips, and Bryce was losing himself to the blissful sensation running from cock to ass and ass to cock like some channel ran between the two. This might be my only chance. Ever. And I’m here. Now. No one knows I’m here except Stanley, and who would he tell? He wouldn’t tell. Stanley’s my best friend. He won’t tell.
“I want this,” Bryce admitted.