Quentin's first party

Quentin entered the dark house and stood at the doorway. There was a swing in the corner of the living room hanging from the ceiling. The room was filled with shadows of bodies, dark, naked, all groaning. The air was thick with sweat and musk. Sounds of flesh slapping against each other filled his ears along with soft moans and cries of pleasure. Other guys roamed around the dark hallway off to the right. One guy had a fluorescent drink in his head, with a glow stick around his arm, while another guy kneeled in front of him, his head bobbing back and forth. Another pair shoved each other against the wall, their mouths frantically roaming our each other's throats and chests. Clothes were strewn about the floor, most in a corner of the living room. Shoes, jackets, shirts, and pants, all in a pile and forgotten like dirty laundry. House music blasted through the air, heavy bass vibrating through the floor. Quentin felt exposed and barely fought the urge to turn around. He was both captivated and overwhelmed, as if he had agreed to something too sinister and now there was no way out. The decision was made for him when a guy grabbed him, shoved him against the wall, and pushed a cold tongue inside of his mouth. 

The man’s breath was intoxicating as Quentin gave into the carnal demands of this shadowy figure. He felt the hard planes of the other guy, the muscles that pressed up against him, the dips of sculpted abs, the bulging biceps as Quentin wrapped a hand around the man’s arms. Their dicks rubbed together, and his world fell away. The touch was electrifying. The pulse against his own a soothing rhythm along with the base thumping in his ears. 

Time seemed to both stop and speed by until the man dropped to his knees and swallowed Quentin’s erection. Quentin looked about the room with hazy eyes. Another man was walking towards him, a cup in hand. Quentin had a hard time grabbing onto the cup while pleasure radiated from his groin. 

The other man was the same height as him, faint traces of light reflecting off his pale body. 

“You need to loosen up a bit.” The voice was deep and husky. Quentin took a sip from the cup. The liquid burned his throat, but it instantly relaxed him. His partner between his legs moved to licking his balls, and Quentin’s knees almost buckled. The other guy standing next to him took control of the cup, tipping the drink into Quentin’s mouth. Quentin felt his muscles relax, and the standing guy kissed him, his tongue roaming around in his mouth.  

Time seemed to fall away and he felt sleepy. Before he realized what was going on, Quentin felt his body being dragged across the room. It was too late when he realized he was being placed into the swing harness. A part of him wanted to protest, but the words never came. He felt hands all over him, rubbing him up and down his bare body, fingers probing inside of him. 

“Shh, relax baby. You’re gonna like it,” he heard a guy whisper in his ear. He felt fingers probe his ass, and he tried to protest until the fingers rubbed against his prostate. He felt pleasure radiate through him. His mind fought with his body but was losing fast. 

Then he felt it. Someone’s thick dick shoved up his hole. He yelped, the pain being too much, even in his drunken state. He heard the other men around him shouting with praise and insults, yelling him to take the punishment, to submit to whoever was shoving inside of him. His hands and legs were chained to the sides of the swing. His ears were filled with the shouts and moans of the guys around him and the chains rattling above him. The guy between his legs was pounding him so hard that his body felt abused. Quentin closed his eyes, wishing the pain would stop. His head felt foggy, his wrists and ankles burned with the friction, his butt being impaled with more force that he ever felt before. But finally it was over. He felt the guy grunt with a few more thrusts before finally stopping. He pulled his dick out of Quentin, who yelped at the sudden disconnection. His ass felt wide open, suddenly empty and free from the sudden abuse. He felt a small wetness trickle out of him. That some random guy spilled his cum inside of him was almost an afterthought. His mind felt like it was floating away. 

Another guy entered his body, but soon he felt out of control, as if time was quickly flying by. One guy after another used his body, dumped his seed, and then left. Some guys gave him a kiss, as if to say thank you for the quick release. Some didn’t even touch him. Only the slapping of flesh and then the sudden departure. Quentin felt like a vending machine, exchange his body for the other man’s pleasure. He soon lost count of how many men entered and then left. He only recognized a few men who came back for seconds. 

He felt his body being lifted out of the swing, and he stumbled as someone dragged his body through the room. The music faded away, the thick smell of sweat and sex seemed to fade away as well. He felt a wetness trickle down in his thighs, his head still swimming as if his body was a dream. 

“Shh, I got you. We’re almost there.” 

The voice felt conforming and calm. He liked that voice and leaned closer to the body beside him. Soon he was laid in a bed. Good, he could finally rest. Maybe the torture on his body was done and he could finally fall asleep. But he felt kisses along his neck, his legs being spread open. He tried to protest, but only a mumbled came out. He really wanted to go to sleep.

“You’re so sexy. I want you to myself. Your hole is so ripe.” 

He barely felt the man slip inside him. But it felt different. He didn’t feel like he was being abused. The man draped his body on top of him, arms held him close, a tight embrace around his torso. Quentin lifted his legs and wrapped it around the other body. Their movements were slow, passionate. Quentin felt like he was slipping into a dream of ecstasy. The man didn’t smell as sweaty and musk as the rest of the men that night. There was a woodsy scent, faint with rubbing alcohol, as if he had just applied a fresh spray of cologne. Perhaps Quentin was finally dreaming. 

“Damn, you feel so good. I’m so glad you came tonight. Fuck, baby, does that feel good?” 

Quentin couldn’t respond, so he grabbed the man’s back and pulled it closer to his body. His speed increased, and Quentin felt the man’s dick slip in and out with barely any friction. The man caressed his body, gave him long kisses on his neck. And when his tongue plunged inside of his mouth, he wasn’t fighting Quinten for dominance. It was a sensual dance, letting Quentin lead, as if asking for permission. The guy soon increased his speed, and Quentin let him, feeling loved and pleasure, more than he did when in the swing. Soon, the man grabbed a handful of his hair and groaned in his ear. 

“I’m coming. Fuck, baby, I’m coming.”

Quentin barely felt the man’s release inside him. But he felt the man’s shivers, and then his collapse on top of him. The soft breath against his neck as the man laid there. Finally, Quentin felt like he could sleep. The man’s warm embrace was all he needed.

“I love you.” 

Quentin barely heard the man’s declaration before his consciousness finally slipped.