The pounding beat of the music surrounded me as I made my way through the crowd. My boyfriend of a year and a half, Ethan, stood in the corner talking to a friend, leaning close to him. Without lifting his head, Ethan's bright blue eyes tracked my movement across the living room floor. His mid-sized apartment had become the scene of a raging party, celebrating his 21st birthday. The alcohol was flowing freely; a glass of Jack and Coke was in Ethan's left hand. I was tracking his drinking in an idle sort of way. Surprisingly, this was only his second drink of the night, and the party had been going on for at least two hours. At the beginning, he'd had an oversized shot of Southern Comfort, to the cheers of his friends. I had drifted to and from his side throughout the evening, greeting friends and trying to meet people I didn't know.
The party had been in the works for nearly a month. Two of his friends, Natalie and Max, had even come from Virginia, staying at his apartment for a few days. I had met her, but was still trying to find him. Virtually every one of our mutual friends, and some people that I didn't know, were here. Some were out on the small terrace, smoking. Others were in the kitchen, mixing bizarre alcoholic concoctions. Most were in the living room, dancing close together, or sitting along the walls, trying to carry on conversations that were next to impossible.
I finally reached his side, and he drew me close to him, kissing me. After we moved apart, I looked at the friend to whom he'd been talking; it was our friend Mike. He raised his own glass at me and nodded his head, grinning broadly. I myself had no drink, so all I could do was nod in return, and smile. Ethan took hold of my arm, and led me back through the dancers. I saw an inordinate number of people staring at us, some grinning, some not. I stared back, but grew a little self-conscious. We finally completed our trip across the living room, and he led me into the short hallway to his bedroom, which he unlocked.
Flipping the light on and closing the door, he smiled at me. Setting his drink down on the desk, he asked, "So what do you think?"
"I think I've never seen so many people in here at once! Do you know everybody here?"
"Yeah. I only met some earlier this week. I told people they could bring whoever they wanted, but I had to meet them first. I actually kicked a couple people out earlier," he said.
This surprised me. Ethan was a really easygoing, laid-back guy who didn't do the sort of thing he was describing to me. He wouldn't even have done it if he were drunk. But I figured it was his party, and he may as well be able to have whom he wanted here. I just nodded. "I'm trying to get to know everybody, but it really isn't working," I confessed with a smile.
"It's okay. You'll get to know them," he assured me, pulling me toward him.
Before I could ask exactly what he meant, his lips closed over mine. I could taste the tartness of the alcohol as his tongue pushed gently into my mouth. Our tongues dueled for a little, invading each other's space. I leaned closer to him, pressing into his chest. His powerful arms surrounded me completely, one arm across my back, the other sliding downward as his hand moved down to cover my ass. I let him squeeze it a few times, and then I laughingly pushed him away. "Down, boy."
I went over to the mirror, and reached for my purse, which I had left in his locked room for security. Taking out my makeup, I touched up a little. I was Ethan's virtual opposite in color—olive skin, brown eyes and dark brown hair. My cheekbones were high; my forehead was not. I had managed to lose some weight in the previous year, despite Ethan's protests, and was now a relatively svelte 130, distributed proportionally on my 5'7" frame. He ducked down a little as he came up behind me, so all I could see over my own shoulder were his eyes and his short, spiky blond hair. But that was enough—his eyes sparkled with mischief as his hands came up to cover my small breasts. He pumped them gently like stress toys, using his fingers to brush across my nipples through my clothes.
I swatted his hands away. "You'll make me mess up!"
He affected a look of indignation. "You're the most beautiful girl at the whole party. You don't need makeup."
I was still a little self-conscious, remembering myself as I had been nearly a year and 35 pounds ago. "I don't know about that." I brushed powder across my nose and cheeks.
He kissed my neck, returning his hands to fondling me. I put the makeup away and watched him, feeling the goose bumps tingling across my arms. He never failed to arouse me on a moment's notice. Ethan slowly straightened up, never taking his hands off me. Soon he was pressed up against my back, massaging my breasts slowly and forcefully. It felt excellent.
I tilted my head back a little and moaned. Reaching up with my hand to encircle his neck, I whispered up to him, "You're bad... someone could hear us."
"Not with the music," he said in a low, sexy voice. He started undoing buttons on my shirt. I had a vague feeling that I shouldn't do this with over 40 people on the other side of the door, but I found myself submitting to him. I kicked my shoes off in front of the dresser.
I had lost my virginity to Ethan on our one-year anniversary. The setting was perfect, and I would always remember it. I had never slept with anyone but him—I never needed to. He satisfied me in every way. It looked like he wanted me to be satisfied again, right now. It occurred to me that others might have guessed this, and that was why we'd gotten the stares and smiles from the others at the party.
I was definitely a willing participant. He backed me into the wall, kissing me feverishly, finishing with the buttons on my shirt and undoing my bra, which clasped in the front. My hardening nipples were released, and I gasped as his thumbs began to play with them. He was turning me on incredibly.
Ethan slid the shirt off my shoulders along with the bra, letting them fall to the floor. I now stood topless in my jeans and sock feet. He bent and took one of my nipples in his mouth, rolling the other one between his thumb and index finger. I moaned loudly, grasping the back of his head as he sucked. He started licking me, flicking my nipples back and forth with his tongue. Pushing my breasts together, he buried his face in my cleavage, still licking. He sucked on my other nipple, which was as hard as a small stone. The air hitting my just-licked skin made them even harder, shriveling them a bit.
I kissed the top of his head as he unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down over my hips, taking the socks with them as he pulled them off. The crotch of my underwear was damp, and my scent rose into the air. Ethan closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. "You smell excellent," he said in a thick voice. He continued to kiss me as he undid his pants and stepped out of them. I hadn't noticed him taking off his shoes.
His cock sprang up as he removed his boxers. The sight of him never failed to impress me; his thick shaft was a dusky pink color, just the right length and curved a bit when he was extra-aroused. His heavy balls hung down between his legs, begging for attention. I pulled him toward me, still wearing his shirt, and kissed him. We usually took things slower; I was no longer sure of what was going on.
He broke away and leaned down to kiss my neck. He said in a low voice, "I want you." His hands were grabbing handfuls of my flesh everywhere, being rough. He squeezed a nipple painfully. I started to doubt the wisdom of this idea, wondering if the alcohol was having more of an effect than usual. I pushed him away. It wasn't right anymore.
