Henry looked around the room. There was a weird tension tonight he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was most of the usual people, plus a few he’d never seen before. Fresh meat, that was always good.
Some nights, the sex would start right away, clothes would peel off and lay in a heap next to the door. Other nights it was like a painful high school dance, everyone choosing corners, eyeing and sizing up the enemy from across the room. Finally some bold person would break away, stride across the room and take someone’s hand and lead them into a bedroom. Then, everyone else would find the courage to pair up and scuttle off. The sex was never as good on those nights. The nervous atmosphere was poison, he could never quite find his rhythm, and it made him angry.
The nights Henry liked best were the nights of slow seduction. Layers of clothes gradually peeling off. Maybe a woman would drape her scarf around another woman’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Hands would find each other under blankets or tables or jackets, pants would be unzipped, skirts lifted, panties yanked down. The lights would seem to automatically dim, like in Hollywood movie set. An intoxicating heat would rise up, and the room would become a mass of writhing sweating bodies. No closed doors, no inhibitions, only the hedonistic pleasures of watching, being watched and devouring. No shame, simply reaching, kissing, caressing, fucking.
Henry had been going to these parties for a couple years now. He wasn’t sure how they started. There were a few people who didn’t come anymore, maybe they’d started them? He imagined an unbroken line of gatherings going back decades, all these long years of decadence stemming from one crazy night, maybe during Prohibition. The clothes on the floor would be dapper suits and short flapper dresses. The bathtub would be full of gin, the men would smoke cigars and grasp the short bobbed hair of the flappers as they gave them succulent blowjobs, leaving bright red rings of lipsticks on cocks as the jazz music played on.
The torch would be passed on and on, the founders overlapping with the next generation to take it on. Or maybe it was nothing like that at all. Maybe it was simply people just getting together to get their fuck on and he was being entirely too romantic about it all again. He was prone to fits of romanticism now and again.
This night was definitely weird. Henry couldn’t figure it out. There were a few new people, but not enough to throw the balance off completely. Mattie was there, breasts spilling from her cherry red latex dress as usual, rubbing up against some rather alarmed man the corner. Rob was already getting a blowjob, but he didn’t seem interested in it, his eyes were on Mattie’s tits.
A new girl, Leah, Henry thought her name was, sat wide eyed across the room, trying desperately to keep her cool. Henry watched as Mark approached her.
Mark was smooth, Henry had to give him that. He leaned over, whispered something in the new girl’s ear. Within moments, Mark was kneeling on the floor in front of her, gently sliding his hand up her skirt. She flushed. Mark had his fingers in her. She lay her head on the back of the sofa, eyes closed.
Mark would get the night started, Henry decided. Mark gave no fucks at all. The room quieted as Leah’s soft whimpers turned to full blown moans. Mattie, always seeking an opportunity to be in the spotlight, sat next to Leah and unbuttoned her blouse. Mattie ran her fingers through Mark’s hair, then descended on Leah’s exposed breasts, squeezing one tight while sucking the other. Leah cried out. As if that were the signal everyone had been waiting for the room came alive, the barrier broken.
Mark looked around, gave someone a nod who brought him a bottle of lube. He removed his hand from Leah’s pussy, squirted lube across his hand, and plunged his fingers back into her. Mattie relentlessly sucked and bit Leah’s breasts, then lightly slapped them. Leah moaned louder, writhing as Mark stuck another finger into her. Another man, Thomas, came up behind Mattie and bit her neck. Leah was suddenly the center of a widening web, everyone somehow connected back to her through someone else.
Mattie arranged herself so her cunt was exposed as she suckled Leah. Thomas slammed into her so hard that Leah shook too. It only took moments before Mattie’s dramatically loud cries pierced the soft din of moans.
Henry heard a scraping sound as someone pulled a chair up. Sarah sat down next to him, and handed him a fresh glass of wine.
“Popcorn would be better for this show,” Henry whispered. Sarah was his co-conspirator, his friend in snark.
“Mattie never misses a chance, does she?” Sarah whispered back, “Always has to be part of everything.” Sarah and Henry leaned back against the wall, sipping wine as the display continued.
Leah was fully spread now, her knees were being held open by other people now by Mattie’s orders. Mattie held Leah’s wrists together, pinning them against the wall while Thomas now suckled and bit her breasts. Mark’s face was tight with concentration as he attempted to work his fist into Leah’s cunt. Leah was radiant with pleasure and sweat, her eyes dreamy and unfocused.
Mark worked his clenched fist in and out of her, her thighs glistened. Mattie still held her delicate wrists together, but with one hand now. Her other hand rested wickedly against Leah’s throat.
Henry felt a twinge of excitement, finally. He was feeling lately that he’d used up all his normal fetishes, that only extreme stuff could excite him now. Watching someone being choked and fisted felt fairly tame, but he was glad that it still excited him even some.
He reached over, took the glass of wine from Sarah. He grabbed her firmly by the wrist, she followed willingly. The night had taken on a life of it’s own, he could find his rhythm tonight, he was sure of it.