Party On

As I approached my office on the fifteenth floor I saw a familiar figure standing outside the locked door. "Hey, Clete, how they hangin?"

Clete just grinned and waited for me to unlock my office. Once inside he threw himself onto a side chair and whistled. "Boy, what have you done. What have you done?"

"Whoa, slow down, buddy. Relax and tell me what's going on." I hung up my jacket and reached down and unlocked my desk. Then I grabbed the phone and asked Jolene if there was fresh coffee in the break room. I didn't ask her to bring it. On the fifteenth floor, at least, we got our own coffee. Jolene wasn't my secretary, she was my assistant, even though she did a lot of the filing and other scut work we were saddled with. After she answered in the affirmative I put the phone down and said, "You want a cup? It's fresh."

"Sure, buddy, you old horn dog you. This can wait another couple of minutes."

I got two mugs of coffee and went back to my office.

Clete eyed me over the steaming rim and said, "my email inbox is overflowing. And besides the usual crap, I get dozens all asking about you and Adrianne."

"Adrianne! How does she come into this?"

"'S why I'm here this bright morning. I've never had the kind of response to one of our parties that this one brought and so far all of the messages are about you and Adrienne. Her message was short and to the point. Something like great party, great guests, especially the new guy. Be sure he's at the next one."

I tried to keep my face inexpressive, but this was a little worrisome. We hadn't done anything illegal, so far as I knew, but I was moving up in the company and I didn't think having my sexual exploits as a prime water-cooler subject would be an advantage.

"I hope I'm not going to regret that party, my friend."

Clete grinned. Don't worry. All the emails and texts were discreet. Whoever Adrienne told, and by the way I know she doesn't want her rear-entry proclivities bandied about either, she isn't naming names. I know because of what I know, you get me? Anyway, since you aren't in the chat loop, I know you wouldn't be aware. The other reason I'm here is to deliver a personal invitation."

I raised one eyebrow and waited.

Clete, grinned again and said, one of the regulars who shall remain nameless, has suggested you be added to the guest list for a special party in two weeks. There are some conditions." He fished an expensive looking envelope from the pocket of his jacket. "If you agree, I'm to give you this envelope. No pressure, but I'm sure you'll find it worthwhile. Lots of useful connections, if you get me. Thing is, there's a bit of expense involved. I can only afford to go to these parties a couple times a year, even though Marci would do it every week if she could."

"Don't you worry about other men fucking your wife? Disease and things like that?"

Clete shrugged. Yeah, at first. But Marci and me, we talk all the time. She never compares me to other guys, you know, he's got a bigger or longer cock. He lasts longer than you, stuff like that. I never tell her I was with a woman with a better shaped ass, or she moaned louder or gave better head. It isn't about competition. Get it? It's about fun and sex. What does happen though is if one of us has a specially good climax, we bring that back and talk about it. So she and I can learn the technique. See? It's all about research." He grinned and spread his arms.

"Okay, man, you got my attention. What's this deal?"

"It's a costume party. Masks at all times, and no cheesy black Lone Ranger slip ons. Any kind of costume is ok, but it has to be pretty elaborate so it'll cost you some money to rent. My suggestion is that you talk to the folks at Uptown Costume. They always have good ideas. And you have to pay $100 in cash up front."

"Pay you?" Clete nodded. "I'm beginning to think this is a Clete Johnson scam." I grinned and dug the bills out of my pants pocket. I peeled off five twenties and handed them over. Hell, even if it was only Adrienne with a new strap-on, I figured I'd have a good time. I took the envelope and Clete left. At my desk, I slid it open. Sipping coffee I read the carefully worded introduction sheet. Long story short, it was an adult costume party. The language was circumspect, the word orgy never appeared, but it was clear that the people who would attend were expected to be discreet and open to pretty much any kind of human interaction. The sheet was styled as a formal letter and signed in bold black ink, simply, Leda.

I'd be picked up by a limo at seven sharp at my home. Transport back from the party would be available, but not until three in the a.m. Food and drink were included. There was one intriguing note. Guests were encouraged to leave identification and other personal stuff at home, but we had to bring a recent report from a doctor attesting to the absence of any nasty germs or diseases. No drugs other than aspirin would be available.

The people at the costume place were indeed helpful, and enlightening. And expensive. It cost me the better part of $500 for my costume, that of a gentleman from some obscure Italian city in the thirteenth or fourteenth century. Big shirt with huge sleeves caught at the wrist, no buttons, but a gold vest that reminded me of a piece of Roman armor. My pants were huge around the hips and thigh, tight at the knee with white stockings and ending with black ballet slippers. The pants were particularly interesting. In front was a cloth codpiece that was obviously designed to hold and show off my package. I discovered that it could be easily removed, since it was velcroed in place, rather than sewn. The codpiece was covered with sewn-on fake jewels and sparkly stuff.

My mask was a golden headpiece with a gold wig of false hair attached. It fit rather closely and covered my ears, forehead and eyes. It occurred to me that it would restrict kissing and licking. I figured I could fix that with a few judicious knife cuts, although I had read that guests were to remain masked at all times.

The much anticipated evening arrived. I would have preferred to go with Clete and his wife, Marci, since they were the only people I knew who would be at the ball. But that was not to be. I dressed, tucked a clean handkerchief up my sleeve, tucked my half-hard boner into my codpiece and waited for the limo. It arrived, freshly washed and polished, complete with uniformed driver.

When I climbed in, I discovered there were three other passengers already seated and enjoying the contents of the bar. "Good evening, fellow celebrants," I intoned. "I'm Greg." The guy, dressed like a pirate nodded "Hey, I'm George, this is my wi—this is Mary, and next to you is Teresa."

I sat on the very comfortable seat beside Teresa who was wearing a loose filmy white outfit with a tall hat, a veil and a long skirt. Later I would discover that the dress was full of long vertical slits so whenever she moved, parts of her body were revealed. I also discovered she wasn't wearing any underwear. George's wife Mary was dressed like Little Bo Peep, except that the bodice of her cute white and blue jumper was cut extremely low so her lovely cleavage was always on display. She had very nice looking breasts and if she leaned forward slightly, I got a flash of nipple. She seemed nervous and during most of the ride held one hand over her bosom.

Teresa looked me over while draining her glass of wine. Then she fastened her gaze on my crotch. "Nice package, my good fellow." She had a low throaty voice, like someone who'd smoked too many unfiltered cigarettes in the past. "Hmm, I'll bet this thing unhooks rather easily, yes?"

I'd already had a belt while dressing so I declined the wine and smiled at her. "Yup, you guessed right." I started to cross my legs and then thought better of it. I opened my knees just slightly and said, "Do you want to see how it works?"

Teresa grinned and grabbed the cod piece, pulling it open, so it hung slightly to one side. I was wearing underpants so what they all saw was a black silk bulge. "Ah, I do love the feel of silk," she said and inserted her hand to gently grip and caress my boner. Mary flinched when Teresa pulled my codpiece, but she didn't look away. George smiled and I could tell that he had one hand somewhere intimate on Mary's body.

"Nice, and I suppose turnabout is fair play," Teresa said. She kept her hand in my pants and shifted on the seat beside me. It was obvious she had been practicing wither her dress. One bare breast appeared through an opening in the fabric and the skirt fell away from her lovely thighs almost to her hip. Had she moved her knees apart, I'm sure George would have seen all the way to heaven. I couldn't see any tan lines. My cock twitched. Teresa withdrew her hand and covered up.

The limo rocked and I saw we had turned into a gravel driveway. We wound our way up the driveway so we could see the big castle-like place we were approaching. I recognized the Martin estate, a place I'd read about and passed on the highway, although I'd never been inside. A timber baron with delusion of being royalty in an earlier time had built the place to resemble a castle in France. The tan stone walls seemed both protective and mildly threatening.

As we started to disembark, Teresa plucked my shoulder and said, "Better cover up, big boy, or they'll think you're too eager."

I chuckled and replaced the dangling codpiece. The four of us went up the wide stone steps. The door swung open and a cave man, a large bearded cave man, waved us in. He put down his big Styrofoam cudgel and took our medical reports. Since none of us was wearing anything that needed to be checked, caveman waved us toward a tiled hallway that led to a large room that might have been a ball room or formal dining room. Teresa took my arm, pressing her firm breast against me and we strolled into the room. Spectacular, a feast for the eye and other senses. A riot of costumed people stood about, or sat on loveseats or settees. There were no tables for drinks in evidence, but there was a waitstaff of young, good looking men and women carrying trays of drinks and snacks. The women were appropriately dressed in short black skirts and low heels. Their white blouses were high-necked and not tucked in to their skirts. The fabric was sheer and the ones I encountered had all forgotten to wear bras. Swaying breasts and tantalizing glimpses of skin between blouse and skirt were much in evidence.

The male waiters wore black slacks and a black bow tie, but were shirtless. It became quite clear that although they had serving duties, both men and women were willing participants in the festivities. I did a quick estimate and guess there were thirty people in the room. The scene was like any other cocktail party in most respects, except the volume of conversation was lower and the dress was more daring. I wondered if I'd get to meet my hostess. I also wondered if I'd encounter Clete and Marci. Frankly, I was more interested in finding Marci. Ever since she'd made it known she wanted to have sex with me, and I'd learned she and Clete were living an open marriage, I'd had the hots for her tight curvy body. Sometimes home alone at night, I'd get and erection, thinking about her and then I'd.....well that's another story.

Teresa leaned forward, patted my cod piece and said, "I'll find this big boy later, sweetie." She drifted off. I snagged a glass of very good wine from a passing waiter and felt arms snake around my waist from behind. I turned to find a short busty woman smile at me from behind a black mask. " Come with me," she said. "Greg, right?" I nodded wondering how she knew. "Our hostess wants to meet you and I'll give you a tour of the rest of the place." She took my hand and slid it into her bodice so my fingers instinctively wrapped around a soft, nice-sized breast with a firm erect nipple.

"So nice to meet you," I said giving her a gentle squeeze.

She smiled and tugged me through the crowd so I lost contract with her breast. A man wrapped in a brilliant red cape paused in front of us, bowed low and spread his arms to reveal he was naked under the cape. My companion giggled and waved him away. He bowed again, rewrapped and disappeared.

We went to a side door and into a wide hallway. Doors lined both sides. "This is the main boffing hallway. There are small rooms each with a bed and supplies like dildoes, cleaning materials, condoms. If the door opens, use the space as you want. The doors can be latched from the inside for those who want privacy. She twisted the lever on a door and pushed it open. The light was dim from a single table lamp, but it was enough for us to see the couple sixty-nineing on the bed. The woman was on top with her head toward us. Startled she released the cock from her lips and looked up at us. I recognized George's wife, Mary. The guy she was sucking mumbled something and she lowered her mouth on him again, taking several inches between her lush lips.

My companion shrugged and we backed out of the room. At the very end of the corridor was another door. My guide knocked and we went in. The room was a large bedroom suite with a canopied platform bed, heavy dark well-polished furniture and a big oil painting over the fireplace that was specially lit so it drew the eye. The painting depicted Leda being impregnated by the swan, in exquisite detail. I suspected that no swan ever sported such a large human-like penis, however.

"Welcome, Greg. I see you recognize the work." Her voice was strong, with a touch of amusement. The voice also suggested authority and a faint underlying hint of corruption or perhaps mordant self-deprecation. I turned toward the voice and a Valkyrie appeared beside the bed. She was well over six feet tall, a big woman with a hard yet voluptuous body, as I was to learn. Her luxurious shining blond hair was loose. It hung down as a screen over her bare shoulders, cascading to the thick carpet. She took another step toward me and her magnificent breasts appeared through the screen, nipples erect in the center of large dark areolas. Another step. Her bare feet made no sound on the carpet. I guess my mouth hung open at being confronted with this magnificent specimen of lusty womanhood.

"I'm pleased to meet you," I said realizing the inanity of the words. Then I glanced away, back to the painting. It was her. She was Leda in the painting. I feasted my eyes on her breasts, her inner thighs, the wanton presentation of her mons, the thick labia lips open to receive the thrust of the swan's manhood. My own prick stirred.

"Yes, she said, I did pose for the painting. Good of you to notice. It was done many years ago, of course, but I think my body is still worthy of some adoration, don't you?" She parted the curtain of hair farther and cupped her breasts, raising them toward me.

I realized that the main reason I was here in this chamber was to perform for this creature, a task I was more than willing to accept, but somehow I knew this wasn't to be a normal rutting encounter. This was a kind of stylized dance. The woman who had brought me to this room stepped to my hostess side and began to draw her hair into a great bun, gradually revealing more of the woman's nudity. And then it came to me, I was now Zeus of the legend who would mate with Leda although I wouldn't be a swan.

By now, with her hair tied up and back, Leda stood proudly naked before me. With not an ounce of extra fat, she stood feet slightly apart, her strong hips facing me. Her pubis was covered with a thick growth of fine blond hair, but I could see the glint of moisture at the center.

"Do you approve, Lord Zeus, of what you see?"

"I do, my lady. I do."

"Perhaps you can show me more positive signs." The other woman stepped away and Leda turned to lean back against the bed. Her fingers slid over her flat belly and curled into her crotch. The other woman came toward me and knelt down, pulling my cod piece off as she did. She inserted her fingers and pulled my penis free and into view. Then she fished out my balls as well. Her fingers were cool and after a single long stroke, she took me in her mouth. Her tongue slid over the bumps and crevices of my rapidly rising erection. I continued to stare at Leda who spread her feet a little farther and began with one hand to explore her own sex. Her gaze stayed on my face and her mouth dropped open just a bit. Suddenly I wanted to feast on those lips, to fasten my own mouth to hers and to feel her breath in my nostrils. Her bosom quivered and began to rise and fall as her desire, became more apparent.

By now the expert mouth and tongue of the other woman kneeling before me had raised me from half-mast to full erection. Leda glanced down smiled and beckoned me forward with an imperious red-tipped finger. I pulled back from the hot tongue on my tentacles and stepped around her. Leda leaned farther back, pushing her crotch toward me, her finger teasing the large clitoris that showed itself through her pubic hair.

"There are conditions,' she husked. "No foreplay, no condom and it's all right if you come in me." Her warm hand curled around my cock and stopped me. Holding my gaze, she stuck one finger of her other hand deep into her mouth and sucked hard. When she removed her finger out she made a lustful popping sound. Then she dropped that hand and inserted fingers into her sex. A moment, then still holding my cock, she raised her other hand and inserted those fingers into my mouth. I willingly accepted her gesture and sucked her juices from her fingers. Expressionless she tugged strongly on my cock. I leaned closer. She whirled suddenly and threw her upper body onto the bed, bending at the waist so her bottom was presented to me. Her legs were apart so I had a perfect view of her pussy and anus.

"Now, Zeus!" She growled. I want your cock. Stuff it in me." So I did.

Her pussy was at just the right height. I leaned forward, one arm on each side of her and jammed my cock into her waiting pussy. It was juicy, hot and seemed to vibrate as I slid in until my public bone smacked against her labia. My breathing increased and I dragged in air through my open mouth.

"That's it, that's it. Fuck me, fuck me now," and I did. I stroked the full length of my cock in and out. Not pounding, but forcefully filling her vagina with male meat. Once, twice, three and then as I started a fourth stroke, she spasmed, a hard abrupt orgasm and squeezed my cock almost painfully. I paused in mid-stroke and then continued all the way. But when I tried to withdraw as before, two hands pressed on my butt, preventing me from moving.

"Come! Come in me." Her vagina clenched around me. But I wasn't quite ready. For several seconds I stood there, looking at her long lean naked back, my cock throbbing in her pussy, the hands of her companion pressing me to Leda's buttocks and her sex. My breathing slowed and the pressure of the hands on my butt disappeared. Leda's unnamed companion hooked a hand in the back of my pantaloons and pulled me out of Leda. She turned me around toward the door and knelt, wiping my member and tucking me back into my pantaloons. She reattached the codpiece and stood up unsmiling.

"Come," she said.

I went to the door. When I looked back, Leda was still lying bent over the edge of the big bed, her rear enticingly exposed, the lips of her labia, puffy and glistening. The woman companion gently closed and latched the door behind me, leaving me alone in the hall. As I went slowly down the hall toward the ball room, I heard grunts and soft sighs and other sounds of sex all around. Barely thirty minutes had passed and now I wondered what new experiences awaited me.

Entering the big hall I discovered the crowd had grown and was more riotous. To my right a leggy brunette was sprawled on a settee. Her costume was in total disarray, a man had his head in her exposed snatch and another stood leaning over her, toying with her breasts.