Boyd stood back, away from the main throng in the living room, watching. The center of attention was the twink currently getting gang-banged over the large hassock that was part of Kent’s obscenely huge living room sectional sofa. Kent had, of course, put down sheets to protect all the furniture.
Kent might be a kinky pervert, but he was a practical kind of guy and didn’t want his furniture ruined.
Boyd had finally stripped naked a few minutes ago, once the festivities had started. More to not stand out than because he’d fully made up his mind to participate. Everyone here tonight was confirmed to be at least twenty-one because Kent wasn’t an idiot and didn’t want any underaged-drinking charges.
There were about thirty guys here tonight, including Kent. He threw one of these larger get-togethers every couple of months, smaller ones more often. Full bowls of condoms and packets of lube all over, and the only rules were use a condom if asked, no means no, don’t get sloppy drunk, everyone who drank alcohol must turn their keys over to Kent and be sober before they left if they want to get them back, and no drugs.
And never, ever pee in the pool or the hot tub.
That one, especially, would get you banned for life from his parties.
There were a couple of others, but the kinds of people Kent invited wouldn’t violate those rules anyway.
Kent lived on ten acres in east Venice, so no worries about neighbors or noise complaints, or parking issues. Boyd wasn’t sure how Kent had made his money, and frankly, Boyd didn’t consider it any of his business. But Kent was the kind of rich guy who could afford to have the parties he enjoyed, invite who he wanted—meaning at least one or two guys would eagerly volunteer for getting plowed by him that night—and still appear respectable to the greater Venice upper echelon of social circles he mixed with.
The attendees tonight were a mix of singles and couples who liked to play around with others. Kent didn’t discriminate, either. If a guy was nice, could follow Kent’s rules, made Kent laugh or challenged Kent’s intelligent brain, he might get an invite. Rich, poor, old, young, bear or twink—Kent didn’t care. His feeling was that there was a dick for every hole, or a hole for every dick.
That was maybe the main reason Boyd liked to stay on the list. Because it wasn’t some snooty, young-and-hot-guys-only shindig. Boyd had been to dozens of Kent’s events, big and small, and had never met a figurative asshole. Sure, he’d met guys he wasn’t attracted to in terms of fucking them, but everyone had at least been nice to talk to. A young twink might actually have an interesting hobby, or be funny as fuck, someone who could hold an intelligent conversation when not filled to the brim with dick.
Or, maybe, even when he was, making him a special kind of talent.
Watching the blue-eyed twink with the buzzed blond hair currently seesawing between a heavier, older bear plowing his ass who probably had ten years on Boyd’s thirty-nine, and the silver fox who was about Boyd’s age fucking his mouth, had Boyd semi-hard.
The main reason he’d changed his mind and called Kent this morning to ask if he could change his RSVP from a no to a yes was Kyle.
Last night seeing Tristan kiss Kyle at the Friday night rope group at Venture, the obvious way their relationship had shifted gears from friends and roommates to a couple, meant Boyd no longer had any kind of legit excuse to say no to Kent’s recent pleadings with him to come over.
Boyd knew Kyle was a Top, but he’d been trying to work up the courage to ask him out. He’d suspected Kyle was bi, like Tristan.
He should have known from how territorial Tris was about Kyle in general that Tris would eventually get into the man’s pants.
Boyd’s last serious relationship had gone tits-up a four months earlier, when he caught the guy right-swiping in a dating app. Supposedly just to chat guys up, but Boyd didn’t risk it. They were supposed to be exclusive.
Fortunately, he’d never gone bareback with the guy, but he’d still marched his unhappy ass down to the clinic to get a full panel run all the same.
Last week, he’d met a guy through a dating app, and they’d had coffee and dinner together. Larry. He would have gone out with the guy tonight, if he man didn’t have to work. They were nowhere near being exclusive yet. In fact, he knew the guy had met someone last night for drinks and to chat while Boyd had gone to the rope event.
He would have invited Larry tonight except Kent hadn’t met him. Kent had a strict rule that these “special” parties were only for people Kent personally knew, liked, and signed off on in advance. No surprise guests—even if they’d previously been to a party—and no talking about it to anyone, either. Must have current neg test results, too, wrapped or not.
And the sad fact was, Boyd hadn’t known Larry long or well enough that he’d be willing to vouch for him to Kent and risk his own invites to these little soirees. More because even if he didn’t do more than get a blowjob at some of them, he liked Kent, and he liked to watch others having fun.
No one in his BDSM group of friends knew about Kent’s “parties.” He knew most of his friends from Venture and the Suncoast Society thought Boyd was all Midwest Yupper nice, not Sodom and Gomorrah.
Larry was three years younger than Boyd and could kiss great, but all they’d done was kiss. Boyd had been honest with the man that he wanted to take his time going serious after being burned the last time.
Larry wasn’t exactly a submissive, even though he did claim he was a bottom. Boyd could handle someone who wasn’t necessarily kinky, as long as they didn’t mind him playing at Venture and they themselves were a bottom.
Boyd kept watching. He thought about maybe stepping forward to have a turn.
Boyd wasn’t sure this was the scene he really wanted.
Boyd quickly stripped and walked over to the bed.
He went to the stereo and changed that goddamned fucking shitty music to classic rock.
As Led Zeppelin filled the speakers, Boyd relaxed. He walked over to the bed, staring down at Caleb.
He climbed onto him and kissed him, loving the way Caleb moaned when Boyd ground against him. And…
He stretched, leaned, grabbed a tube of lube and a towel and slicked Caleb’s cock.
Raw. He wanted him now, and he wanted him bare.
Caleb gasped as Boyd took his time. It’d been a while for him, and he winced as he felt pinchy, burning discomfort when the head of Caleb’s cock pierced his rim. Giving it a moment, he stroked his cock to offset the pain with pleasure, finally working his way deeper.
Below him, Caleb’s hip rocked, trying to fuck him.
He kissed him again, wrapping his arms around him, his hands tucked under Caleb’s shoulders. Caleb eagerly kissed him back, hungry, needy.
Boyd broke his silence, a whisper, a prayer sent up to a heaven he didn’t believe in. “Do you really want me, boy? Or should I go get Kent?”
No hesitation. “I want you, Sir.”
Boyd flexed his ass around Caleb’s cock. “We do this, you get me, and only me. And that goes for me, too. No one but you. I’ll use whatever toys you want on you, will do anything for you to give you the next best thing, but I have to be enough. I do not share. If you can’t agree to that now, no hard feelings, and maybe we can try again when you—”
“You.” He sounded close to tears. “I only want you, Sir. Please?”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“I know I trust you. I know Kent trusts you. He said he’s known you for a decade and trusts you with his life. Said you’re a good man, you have a good job, you’re honest. Said I would definitely be attracted to you. Said I would never be disappointed in or by you. Please, Sir. I only want you.”
Those were big expectations to fill, but Boyd damn sure wanted to try.
Kent, you sneaky fucking bastard.
He made a mental note to order a case of Kent’s favorite fisting lube to have sent to him.
Fuck, he’d order him a fifty-five gallon drum of livestock birthing agent.
“You came here to fuck Kent.”
“You said…” Caleb swallowed. “You said you couldn’t see me again, Sir. When I first met Kent he’d offered to…” He shrugged as much as his restraints would allow. “I…I want you. I thought maybe Kent could help me forget you. That’s why he…that’s why he introduced me to you in the first place, to help me forget someone else.”
“What if I shock you?”
“Yes, Sir.” He firmly nodded.
“Close your eyes and keep them closed until I tell you.” Boyd unsnapped the clips on his ankles and wrists, then removed the blindfold.
Caleb didn’t move his arms or legs, leaving them spread. Leaning in, Boyd kissed him. “Open.”
He watched Caleb slowly opened his eyes, blink, then widen as recognition swept in.
Boyd fully expected him to push him away, but when Caleb grabbed him and pulled him down for a fierce, possessive kiss, Boyd went with it.
“I love you, Sir,” Caleb whispered.
Boyd peeled Caleb’s hands off him and laced fingers with him, pinning them over his head and against the mattress. “We absolutely cannot let anyone at work know.”
He nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“I mean it. And we need to try to jump on the first good transfer opportunity to get you into another department. Okay?”
“Yes, Sir!” His smile made Boyd’c cock throb.
“You really thought I wasn’t interested in you?”
“You did a good job hiding it, Sir.”
“How long have you had a thing for me?”
His cheeks pinkened. “From the first interview, Sir.”
“You never told anyone else?”
“Not your friend in E-Dev?”
“No, Sir. I told him I needed to meet a guy to forget another guy. He thought I meant someone from Virginia.”
“Okay. He sat back, wiggling a little and enjoying the feel of Caleb’s cock there as he ticked off points on his fingers. “No one but us. Do not lie to me. If you want out, we talk and end it as adults and we stay professional at work. We cannot let anyone know at work. You will always be naked when we’re at home, and—”
“Well, you’re going to be over at my place a lot, buddy. I have a house. You live in an apartment. We can get as loud as we want. You do want to be in my bed every night, right?”
“We can’t get rid of your apartment yet. First of all, you need to make sure you won’t get sick of me crawling all over you every damn night. And the whole we have to pretend stuff. Once it’s safe at work, then we can be open and pretend like we just started dating and then move you in.” He leaned in. “And I am openly gay. I don’t scare vanillas, but in the kinky parts of my life, I’m as open there as I can be. Obviously, this is different. But once our jobs are safe, we are an item. Understand? No closets allowed.”
More nodding and his smile grew impossibly wide. “Yes, Sir.”
“Your family might hate me, but I don’t give a fuck. We make a family with us and our friends.”
That’s right, Caleb knew about that. “If she ever decides she wants to contact me again, maybe. That’s up to her now.”
“I want all that, Sir. Please?”
He only let him spin for a moment before smiling. “Then you’d better put a load in there and make it official, baby. Seal the deal. Because once you get yours, I’m going to get mine, and then we’re going to retire to the guest room and make love all night.”
He braced his arms on the bed, caging him with his body. “I want to make love to you, Caleb. I don’t want to just fuck you. I want to show you what I’ve been trying to hide, and I want you to know I’m as much yours as you are mine. Make me yours, baby. Been a long time since I had someone to make love to.”
Caleb braced his feet and fucked him, holding Boyd’s hips as Boyd bounced on him and met him stroke for stroke, thrust for thrust. Boyd reached down and pinched Caleb’s nipples, and that tripped him over the edge.
The sweet, gorgeous O-face he made would forever remain etched in Boyd’s mind.