The satyr, obviously used to this kind of appreciation, cradled her face with his hands and stood unbelievably still. A mortal male of his age would have been pistoning his hips, gasping, shouting for more. But satyrs were endlessly accommodating and playful. They weren’t very submissive but Alex had never seen one display hardcore alpha or Dom behavior.
Just when he thought he might be witnessing a world-record-long act of fellatio, Alex saw a telltale twitch of the satyr’s stubby tail. The satyr thrust his hips forward and the female gasped, obviously overwhelmed by his cock’s thickness. Another thrust. Two more.
When the woman had to pull back, straining for air, the satyr patted her head and took over the job with his hand. Pumping with swift, twisting strokes that should have been painful but obviously weren’t, the satyr let his head fall back, his boyish features crinkling into a big smile of ecstasy. He sighed. And then spurted an unbelievable amount of cum onto the blonde’s breasts.
The crowd burst into spontaneous applause as the woman got to her feet and the satyr embraced her. They gave each other a brief hug and the woman raised her fist victoriously and hopped up and down. It was disarmingly like the end of a sports
match. Alex could almost hear the phone call she would make as soon as she left the party—Ohmigod! I just sucked off a satyr…or tried to…! He was really furry! And so well hung!
“Bravo!” Lyra called down to the performers. “A spectacular exhibit. Now…” Lyra stepped down a small set of stairs into the pit. She put her slender, black-clad arms around the two flushed performers. “I’d like to go over the rules of our little game with our newcomers and those of you who may need a refresher—we’ve changed them a little since we last met, I believe.”
Like a coach praising a good athletic performance, Lyra patted the satyr and the female on their asses and pushed them gently to the sidelines of the pit. She began to speak in low but carrying tones, her hands outspread like a preacher’s. “My friends, if you would like to continue observing our little performances you must commit to being potential performers yourselves. For as each performance concludes—and by conclusion we mean that each performer must come to at least one climax—the current performers get to choose one or more new partners from the audience.
Lyra moved to a small banquette located at the back of the pit. She opened the seat and pulled out various lengths of silk scarves, tasseled ropes and a small wooden box.
“Since tonight is amateur night,” Lyra continued, “and most of our performers will be entertaining us for the first time, I am only making our tamest toys available. Feel free to use any and all of the items in this bench. All men must, of course, use condoms during acts of penetration.” She shut the banquette and moved back toward the stairs. “Now I think I’ve talked enough…these little gatherings are all about free expression and I don’t like to go on about rules too much.”
She turned toward the satyr and the blond. “Your choice?”
The satyr and the blond put their heads together and whispered for a moment before the satyr spoke. “Heather will decide on a partner for the two of us.”
“Very well,” said Lyra, back up on her perch again. “You have one minute to choose, Heather. Feel free to speak any observances and criteria out loud.”
Heather began to walk around the perimeter of the pit, looking over the observers carefully. A few of the more timid gamers had begun to titter and push their friends forward. Heather slowed down in front of a Vin Diesel type with a short, muscular frame and a shaved head. He grinned and flexed his chest muscles beneath his skintight T-shirt.
“Hmm,” pondered Heather. “I don’t think so. But I definitely want a guy. I want to see a big, long cock buried in that hairy satyr ass.”
Alex shifted his weight, feeling more than a little uncomfortable with Heather’s enthusiasm. Was he just drunk or was this scene really fucking weird?
He’d been to plenty of sex parties in his time. Usually he joined in, but sometimes he just sat back and observed the glory of the mortal and immortal sexual spirit. Tonight the spirit seemed tainted.
Would it be against the rules if he suddenly left the observing area and went to go find himself a drink? He looked over at Jack. He was definitely titillated. Alex wondered what was in the drug Lyra had given him and how long it would last.
He looked over at Lyra. Her eyes were glowing eerily as she watched Heather. Her arms were crossed and she was clutching her elbows with those long, bony fingers. Alex decided to get that drink.
When he came back with a nice, full glass of premium booze, the blonde was moving closer to where Jack was standing. She flipped her long, pale, straight hair back over her shoulder and posed with a hand on one hip. Her breasts jutted forward impudently. Their size, shape and proportion to the rest of her body made Alex suspect they were a fine example of plastic surgery. Her pussy was shaved to a tiny bikini triangle and it was obvious she was a natural blonde. Long, toned legs and a girl-next-door pretty face added to the very attractive package.
Alex watched Heather’s gaze center on each male’s crotch, knowing she would love to ask them all to whip them out for her perusal. She gave the other satyr, who looked a little too young and a little too nervous, a quick once over and then moved to stand before Jack.
Alex raised an eyebrow. If she wanted a big cock she’d stopped in front of the right guy. Alex wasn’t about to provide any testimonials, however.
“Your minute’s almost up,” Lyra called out.
It was likely that Lyra knew Jack was the best candidate for the job.
Heather smiled up at Jack. Jack returned the smile.
“I pick you!” The leer on Heather’s face was jarringly juxtaposed with her sweet features.
Jack looked over at Alex, a questioning look in his fevered blue eyes. Alex shrugged. It was obvious that Jack wanted this. Hopefully he could fuck the satyr and the charming Heather’s brains out and then they could get the hell out of here. He was just glad she hadn’t chosen him. He didn’t think he was up to a public performance tonight.
Hell, after another drink he didn’t think he’d be up to any kind of performance at all.
“Oh, oh! An excellent choice!” Lyra gushed. Clapping, she walked over to Jack and took his hands. Seeing her canines gleaming unnaturally white against her blood-red lipstick, Alex wondered how many of these “recruits” she would feed from tonight. He drained his drink with a shudder.
The other observers clapped as Jack and Lyra walked by and made their way down the stairs. Alex heard one young woman say, “Oh my God. That guy is fucking gorgeous! I hope they pick me next.”
Heather smiled coyly as Lyra led Jack to stand between her and the satyr.
“Okay,” said Lyra. “Lead performer’s choice. Would you like to undress him, would you like him to undress himself or shall I do the honors?”
Heather’s pale eyes were fixed on Jack’s crotch. His erect penis was outlined beneath tight denim—it looked like it was trying to make an escape down his left leg. The satyr licked his lips. “We’ll do it,” he confirmed.
Lyra let out a low laugh. “The pleasure is all yours, then.” She waved a slender arm up in the air with a flourish. “Let the games begin!”
Alex wondered if Lyra had been a game show host in another life. Or maybe the pressures of corporate life had finally gotten to her. He quickly took the opportunity to refill his drink from the large array of crystal decanters on the bar in the corner of the room. He sloshed a good bit of the fine bourbon over his hand.
Damn. This drink’s gotta be the last. Fourteenth one’s the charm, after all.
Walking carefully back to his place at the railing, he saw that Heather had her hands up under Jack’s shirt and the satyr had his hands on Jack’s belt. Heather ran her hand over the ridges of Jack’s abs. “Nice,” she murmured. Her low voice carried oddly in the big room. For the first time Alex realized that the pit must be miked.
The low, throbbing music st
arted again as Heather pushed Jack’s shirt up over his pecs. She reached out and flicked her tongue against his right nipple. “Take off your shirt now,” she commanded. Jack obeyed. Heather gave a lusty laugh of appreciation.
The satyr knelt before him and quickly unbuttoned his jeans. Jack smiled down at him, taking over briefly and making a show of unzipping his pants. The satyr stuck his thumbs inside the waistband, pulling down his briefs and jeans all at once.
You could hear his gasp come over the sound system as Jack’s cock sprang out of its denim prison. Heather fell to her knees.
Alex took a swallow of his drink, smiling as the other observers echoed their own murmurs of awe. Jack was indeed a formidable boy. And he apparently liked to show it off now and then.
Jack stroked the length of his shaft with his hand, the rosy column of flesh coming within centimeters of Heather’s open mouth. “Who wants it first?” he asked, his tone low and excited.
Heather nodded and moved to take him in her hands. “Ah-ah-ah,” said Jack in a singsong voice. “You’re going to get it from behind or not at all.”
The satyr moved toward the bench, probably to get a condom.
“Don’t move,” Jack commanded in a voice that made the satyr jump. “Watch. Nothing else.” He walked over to get a condom out of the box Lyra had shown them earlier.
Heather sat back on her heels waiting, apparently perfectly willing to take the submissive role. She hadn’t moved her eyes from Jack’s straining cock.
Jack handed her the condom. “Put it on me,” he ordered.
Heather took the condom and smoothed it over Jack’s shaft. She released him and his cock bobbed, so huge it reached all the way up to his navel.
“Good.” Jack smoothed the latex once with his hand. “Now get down on your hands and knees. On that pile of cushions.”
Heather quickly knelt on all fours in the center of the pit. Jack bent down and put an additional cushion under her knees. He smoothed his hand over one of her flanks, as if he were testing her height. “Down on your elbows,” he barked out.
Heather immediately obeyed. Jack moved behind her, sharply smacking the flesh of her buttocks once, twice, three times. Heather squealed. “Get that ass up in the air. I want them all to see how your cunt drips for me.”
She inched her hips up higher and spread her knees. Jack’s face was strangely businesslike and completely focused on the motionless, kneeling satyr as he moved behind Heather and grasped her hips with both hands. Without any preliminaries, he rammed his cock home.
Several observers gasped. Alex winced. Man, that one had to hurt. Heather didn’t seem to mind though.
Alex slowly sipped his drink, intrigued by this side of Jack. The dude who put the “sex” in metrosexual had been transformed into an all-business Dom. His hardnosed, get-the-job-done expression was an amazing foil to Heather’s expression of slack-jawed, otherworldly arousal.
He felt his own reluctant tug of arousal as Jack rammed his cock again and again into Heather’s welcoming pussy. Damn. With that kind of intensity, Jack could go all night. It must be the drug.
Alex flicked a glance over to Lyra. She was practically drooling, her mouth open, canines extended. Her arms were crossed, hands clenched tightly over bony elbows.
Heather began to whimper with each surging thrust. Alex saw a bead of sweat drip down Jack’s back, the only indication he was affected by his carnal workout. His tight ass flexed with each stroke, his gaze steady on the satyr. Stopping, he stepped back abruptly, his cock a glistening latex rocket rising out of his dark thatch of pubic hair.
Heather’s hand was between her legs, her hips still thrusting as she began to stroke herself. “More, more. Please!”
“Don’t touch until I tell you to,” Jack ordered in a crisp voice. He walked over to the banquette, his torpedo of a cock bouncing against his navel with each step. He grabbed a silk-corded rope from the pile of toys and walked over to the satyr.
“Tie her up,” Jack ordered.
The satyr looked like he might protest. But then he nodded and smiled. “Sure.”
He bent down to tie her wrists, propping her elbows up so she could continue to support her weight. He whispered something inaudible in her ear and eased away from her.
Jack strode back to his original position and placed his hands on her ass. She was now rocking back and forth, emitting pained little moans. He rammed home again and Heather cried out, “Oh God! Harder, please…!”
“This…is…the biggest…and hardest…you’ll…ever…have…” Jack ground out the words with each thrust but his eyes were definitely not on the task at hand. They were on the satyr’s thick, rigid column of a cock.
What the fuck? thought Alex. Why wasn’t Jack giving it to the satyr? He obviously wanted to. Badly. Did he have some kind of hang-up about them? Or was it a male- female thing? Nah, couldn’t be that. Alex knew Jack happily swung every which way he could.
Jack pumped into the blonde’s pussy over and over, his cock like a piston on a machine gone haywire. His ass muscles clenched, a shadow of a grimace contorting his face for a quick beat. With a triumphant shout, he shoved Heather’s ass back onto himself with tightly gripping hands.
He released her hips with no warning and she collapsed down onto the pillows. She was making keening sounds, her hips still gyrating wildly. Jack gave her an air-cracking, open-handed smack on the reddened skin of her ass. She rolled onto her back with an appreciative-sounding groan.
Jack looked down at the satyr, hands on his hips. “Let me see how fast you can bring her off. Spread her as wide as you can. Let everyone see.” He tossed the satyr a condom.
The satyr nodded obediently and sheathed himself with latex. He spread Heather’s thighs with gentle hands. Her pussy looked swollen and well used—she was wet enough that even from a distance Alex could see the glistening magenta lips and the moist, ruddy gold of her pubic hair.
The satyr dipped a few fingers just once into her sopping pussy. She convulsed. He clasped his hands on her hips, raised her and then moved his thick forearms beneath her ass. Her body arched and he looked at her with a sweetly appreciative expression. He must have decided to be mercifully quick, because he abruptly impaled her with his cock. After three short, grunting thrusts, her moans of release came over the speakers. “Ohhh God! Ohhh God!”
Jack moved behind the satyr and ran his hand up his ass, the motion almost reverent. The satyr convulsed, arched and laughed joyfully as he twitched and shook in an obviously gratifying climax.
Jack stepped back, his expression finally satisfied, his cock now semi-erect. The observers clapped enthusiastically. Alex noticed that the two demons and a woman were going at it big time over in a corner of the room. He drunkenly wondered if that was against the rules.
Jack helped Heather up to her feet. She could barely stand as the satyr gave her a quick hug.
“Brilliant, brilliant!” Lyra called down. “Jack, are you sure you aren’t a professional?”
Jack flashed his mega-watt grin. “Only on weekends.”
Heather’s smile seemed a little fragile as Lyra walked down to put her arms around her. “Ah. But I think little Heather is all worn out.” Lyra gazed at Jack with her ghostly gray eyes. “Jack, it will be your turn to choose.”
Alex swayed and gripped the railing tightly, his recently refilled drink sloshing over his knuckles. Jack looked up at him, his eyes still glowing unnaturally from the drug but Alex couldn’t return his gaze, his focus kept glomming onto Lyra—he was getting some decidedly fucked-up vibes from her.
His eyes went bleary. Shit. Shouldn’t have had that last drink. He might have trouble walking out the door. Which he’d definitely decided to do. Immediately. He looked down at his hand. Hm. What the hell should he do with his drink?
Jack’s voice broke through his drunken ponderings. “I’d like to pick two more partners.”
“My, my. That’s what we like to hear. And who will be the lucky recipients of yo
ur ample attentions?” As Lyra’s eyes fixed on Jack’s garden hose of a cock, a tall, cadaverous-looking guy appeared next to her holding a steaming towel on a small white plate.
“Thank you, Juan.” Lyra gingerly lifted the towel. “Jack, let me help you clean up a little before you make your next choice.” A rapturous look transforming her face, she reached down and stroked Jack’s cock with the towel.
Alex shuddered involuntarily. God, she was creepy. He turned to look for the door. Ah, jeez. Where the hell is it? Fighting his spinning head, he surveyed the perimeter of the room. He caught sight of Jack walking the circumference of the pit. Very slowly. Considering each nervously anticipating contestant above him.
Jack pointed to a young woman with long, dark-blonde hair. Alex shook his head once, blinking as the sickening aura of a nightmare settled over his senses.
Lyra was smiling broadly again, leading the blonde woman down to the pit. Petite, long-legged and curvaceous, the woman had big, thick-lashed eyes and a very pretty look of innocence about her.
Oh God. She looked like Caro. Alex tried to focus on her face but the room kept shifting.
Jack stood beneath him. “And…I choose you.”
Alex shut his eyes against the force of that mega-watt smile.
He heard Lyra cackle. “Oh wonderful, wonderful! A simply wonderful choice. Partygoers, I think we’ll be in for a real treat.” Alex opened his eyes. She was coming for him. He swayed and stumbled slightly before holding on tightly to the railing.
This wasn’t going to happen.
“No!” he heard himself call out. He tried to modulate his voice as he saw the contestants look at him in alarm. “Hey, Jack, sorry,” he called down to where Jack had gone to stand next to the little blonde. “I’m wasted, man. Can’t do this.”
“But Alex, I picked her for you. You can do us together. Show us what Alex ‘The Party’ King is all about.”
Alex shook his head, moving his hand away as Lyra came to grasp him. “Thanks, but I can barely stand. You do her for me. I’ve gotta go.”
Party Vamps Page 13