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“But if you and I set up an old video camera before the night starts,” I said, “then, yeah, I’d love to see it afterward.”
“I can do that.”
“Nothing that can get hacked.”
“An old video camera,” he reiterated. “I happen to know exactly where I can get one.”
Of course he did. I could always count on Hunter to have everything we needed to make our adventures come true.
At the hotel, we crawled into bed for a lovely afternoon nap. Falling asleep in his arms was the best. Though he was an executive, he still had the body of an athlete. He played varsity rugby, and part of the reason he wanted to make the trek back to his college town was to reconnect with some old friends, none of whom I had ever met. Instead of sleeping, I lay in his arms pondering the night that was about to transpire.
* * * *
I must have managed to doze off because when the alarm sounded at five o’clock, I had a moment of wondering where I was. I felt Hunter’s strong arms around me and instantly remembered the plan we had for the evening ahead. Sexy images came to mind, both from our afternoon romp and from the moment in the changing room. I wondered who I had become. I was proud of myself for turning such a bold leaf.
Hunter hugged me to him and gave me a squeeze before getting up.
“How are you feeling?”
“Good,” I said.
“Still up for an adventure?”
“Oh yes,” I told him. “I’ve been doing some thinking. You should actually capture me from the party and take me hostage.”
“I like that idea.”
“Where will you take me anyway?”
“You don’t need to worry about that. You’ll be blindfolded, remember?”
“But we’ll go somewhere else, right?”
“Probably a bedroom upstairs. The host of the party lives in a mansion. There will be lots of private and semi-private spaces available for guests.”
“Will you talk in pirate accents?” I asked, attempted to snicker.
“Do you want us to?”
“Depends,” I said. “If it feels right.”
“Are you nervous?”
“Of course.”
He came to the bed and sat down beside me. “Remember, Maya, this is our adventure and your fantasy. If there’s anything you don’t like, you remember the safe word. You can always pull the plug. Anytime.”
“I know,” I said, taking his hand. “You’re fun to date, you know that?”
“So are you, my little wench.”
* * * *
We were showered, dressed and totally ready by eight o’clock. The party invite was for seven, but there was nothing wrong with being fashionably late. Besides, it had taken me a while to apply my fake eyelashes and heavy makeup. I wanted this night to be totally unusual, and I knew it would be, but I didn’t even want to look like myself in case I should see a mirror. It was fun to drop the old me in favor of this one night of playing a part.
The mansion was decorated with beautiful lights shining up the exterior stone and mortar walls. Once indoors, I saw a DJ booth off to one side, and an ocean of strangers all in various costumes ranging from Playboy Bunny to Bugs Bunny, from witch to firefighter and from sexy kitten to gorilla. I was turned on by all the secrecy in front of us. Knowing we had our own sordid plan made me wonder whether there were others who had come with the explicit desire to have some clandestine needs met.
A server offered a glass of champagne from a silver tray and I took it, despite not wanting to be under the influence. I preferred being completely sober when Hunter and I tried new things, but there were butterflies in my belly, and I was ready to calm my nerves just a little. Besides, if there was anything in life that warranted celebration, it was trying something new.
Hunter somehow recognized an old friend who was made up like Frankenstein. He came over to us and gave Hunter a hug.
“This is Maya,” Hunter said.
I wondered if this was one of the guys Hunter had called in advance, whether he knew that I was that kind of girl or not. It was impossible to know.
“Hi,” I said, feeling awkward and exposed.
He took my hand and kissed it. “Glad you could make it.”
After a moment of small talk, he left. Hunter and I continued to weave ourselves in the tapestry of the party, mingling with other guests. I could tell that Hunter was watching me closely for cues that I was ready. I didn’t know how to signal that. Although I trusted him and we did have a safe word, I was also freaked out. It was a huge deal just to admit the fantasy, but to actually act it out took all the courage I had—then some.
The night carried on with much mirth and merrymaking. Suddenly, the doors were flung open and in came a group of pirates, all quite frightening looking because of their costumes, masks and domineering manners. All eyes were on them as they asserted their presence by all three raising their swords.
“We’re here for the maiden,” one called out overtop the noise of the crowd.
“Thar she is.” Another pointed at me with his sword.
“I’ve got her,” Hunter said, loudly, flinging his arms around me. I laughed out of nervousness. I had not expected to be captured with such fanfare.
“Hold her, Captain!”
Hunter produced a rope that had hung in a limp circle clipped to his belt. I’d noticed it earlier but had thought nothing of it. I knew now that it had a purpose far greater than appearances. He held my wrists together and tied them.
The pirates approached and the big one in the front, who was wearing an eye patch over his mask, looked me right in the eyes and said, “You’re coming with us.”
Then he took me from Hunter’s grip and swung me up over his shoulder, holding me to his body by wrapping his arms around my legs. I screamed and tried to fight it, more out of instinct than anything else, but I could not resist him. He was huge and strong and I was overcome with a foreboding sense that I’d overestimated myself. My fantasy had arisen out of my secret love of porn magazines. There had been a stash in the basement of the house Darrin and I had lived in, probably left by accident by the previous owners. I’d said nothing about finding the box. Instead, now and then, I’d snuck downstairs and flipped through scenes involving women being ravished by many men at once. The porn models had managed to make it look so hot. They were really into it. But in that moment I was terrified that perhaps the whole phenomenon came down to acting. What if it hurt? What if I couldn’t stop them? What if I hated it?
I remembered Hunter’s reassurances. He was there with me every step of the way. No way would he let things get out of hand. Besides, these guys were his friends—a carefully selected and trustworthy bunch of upstanding citizens, at least in Hunter’s view. As we made our way toward the main staircase, I summoned all of my bravery. It was now or never.
Carpe diem.
Chapter Ten
Once we were headed out of the main ballroom, the big guy stopped.
“Blindfold her,” he ordered.
The guy with him had a black silk scarf that he had been holding, clearly ready to follow orders. I was amazed at just how organized this kidnapping was. He wrapped the delicate fabric around my face, covering my eyes so that I could no longer see.
I could tell we went up some steps then I heard the sound of a door shut and a lock turn. My captor tossed me onto the bed and I landed front down. I buffered the fall with my wrists and elbows, but I could no longer separate my hands from each other. I was immobilized.
It was the most suspenseful moment of my entire life. I did not know how many guys surrounded me or whether this was being captured on tape or where Hunter was or anything. All I knew was that I was about to be ravished. The tension in the room was palpable.
I heard Hunter’s voice say, “Gentlemen, remember, let’s all respect the maiden’s ground rules.”
“Here, here.”
“Aye, aye.”
“Arrr.”
If I hadn’t been
so nervous, I’d have laughed at their ridiculous accents. Maybe they did it to put me at ease and remind me that, in reality, they were just guys having fun. I was pretty sure it was Hunter who sat down next to me and ran his hands along the length of my body. It was familiar, yet even his touch—if it was his—felt different to me. My senses were heightened and I was overcome with anxiety that was both eagerness and fear. When the caresses circled around my bum and the grip grew stronger, I knew it was Hunter. He was trying to help me relax. It was just like him to look out for me in the moment that it really counted. I took a deep breath and reminded myself this was all for my own benefit. I was going to live out something I’d only ever dreamed of and it would be special and wonderful.
Then Hunter asked, “Who wants to fuck her first?”
Holy shit! It got real so fast. My pussy was soaking in anticipation. It had started when the big guy had picked me up and carried me, but it had only increased as I lay exposed on the bed. Someone lifted up my dress. There was a hand on my bare skin.
“The wench is ready,” someone said, probably referring to the fact that I’d gone to the party without putting on any underwear.
The guy with his hand on my bottom traced my curves until he explored the wetness of my pussy. Whoever it was that was stroking me did so gingerly. He swiped his finger across my pussy like he was smearing butter on toast in one single elegant stroke. Then he put the finger in my mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he said.
“Mmm.” There was no denying that I was into it.
“You’re about to get fucked by a badass gang of pirates. Are you ready?”
I nodded.
One guy turned me over so that I was on my back. Then he took me by the arms and sat me up. The next thing I knew, there was something warm pressing against my mouth. A finger? No, it was bigger than that. A palm? No. I opened carefully and slowly. Instantly, I identified the cockhead for what it was. The guy gave me a few thrusts then I felt another hand on my face, this time turning my head in his direction. He seemed to shove the other guy out of the way so that he could enter my mouth. I sucked his cock for a while when a third—or perhaps it was the first guy—took control and wanted me to turn in the opposite direction to accommodate him. I did not know how many cocks were in front of me, waiting for my attention, but I was so turned on by the sense of eagerness with which they needed me.
Just then, someone spread my legs apart. Despite that my hands were tied together, I felt the top of his head as he kneeled before me. His hot breath on my pussy let me know he was about to make contact. Then his tongue pressed against my cunt and he made circles. I nearly screamed at the sensation. The attention I’d wanted so badly was now almost too much to handle.
I twitched at the focus he gave to my clit. I almost wanted to let him know that I was not ready to orgasm and didn’t want to just yet, but I could not push him away. He kept licking my clit with his tongue that he hardened so that it felt like a cock.
Meanwhile there seemed to be at least three cocks competing for my mouth. I couldn’t help but wonder where Hunter was in the arrangement. I tried to discern and distinguish between them, but it was nearly impossible. They switched positions often and I was in sensory overload.
To think of myself doing this was so foreign. Nothing gave me the idea that I had it in me to be some kind of gang bang slut. I mulled over the idea of it, even as I went through the motions. It was a form of out-of-body experience where I got to see myself through my mind’s eye as something different from the well-mannered housewife. I’d left her behind. Here—in this room, in this situation—all that mattered was my ability to take as much cock as came my way. I was—voluntarily—stripped of the right to see or to put my hands out in objection. I had quite literally been captured and rendered passive. Paradoxically, it was the passivity of the scenario that made me powerful. I was the slut I had secretly longed to be. And I was in control. It was like Hunter said, that I could call them all off with a safe word. But did I want to?
Hell no. I wanted to suck cock. More and more cock. I moaned as I realized this. I surrendered to the moment and engulfed each delicious rod with my mouth, trying my best to be as good of a slut as I was capable of being. Just when I had mastered the art of sucking, the gang outgrew their interest in our positions.
The guy who’d been giving me oral sex stopped, and I was pretty sure it was his hands that flipped me over. I was on my knees now, resting on my elbows with my forearms out flat for leverage. My dress was up over my back, a mound of fabric resting on top of me. My bum was exposed for all the world to see. While my mouth got a break, the skin of my bottom received an enormous amount of attention. There had to be at least four guys in the room, but maybe more. It felt like there were hands all over me, stroking me, putting me at ease. They seemed to signal that there was a lot of pleasure ahead.
“You ready for my cock?” I heard a voice ask.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“Oh yeah,” he said as his cock entered my awaiting pussy. He filled me with such an overwhelming girth that I gasped. It had to be the big guy. He fucked me slowly at first, holding on to my hips and pushing himself deeper and deeper into me with each thrust. He patted my ass with a slap every now and then, as though to remind me that he was in charge. I submitted willingly. I knew I was in good hands.
Then he fucked me harder, and the slaps turned into full-on wallops that stung and gave me the impression that I was really on board a pirate ship. I was being manhandled by a grotesque brute and I loved it. He fucked me so hard I knew I’d hurt from it the next day and I didn’t even care. I just wanted more.
The guy pulled out and let out a low moan as he finished right on my ass. The hot semen hit my skin with a splat. The liquid oozed down the side of my ass cheek and the guys cheered. Muffled, but still. It was obvious to me that they didn’t want to make it seem like they were at a baseball game or anything, but I knew they were all looking, watching the reality of their favorite porn made manifest right in front of them. The other pirates obviously loved the sight, of it and there seemed to be a skirmish over who was next. I heard jostling.
Then another cock was in me. A different guy came around beside me and fished my breasts out of the top of my chemise. They dangled freely as I was fucked from behind. Back and forth they went, my nipples sliding across the bed linen as the man behind me forced himself farther into me, like he was intent on getting deeper than the guy before him had been.
My pussy was so wet with excitement at the overload of the action around me. The guy beside me crawled around so that he was in front of me. I tilted my face up and he took the opportunity to spank my lips with his cock. Dap. Dap. Dap. I wanted to suck him. That was clearly his intention, too, because he tossed a few pillows to me, undoubtedly so that I could rest my elbows on them and balance higher so as to accommodate him.
He took my face in his hands and traced my lips with his thumb.
“You’re gorgeous,” he said. “Those lips.”
I smiled at the compliment and opened my mouth. Seductively, I licked my lips.
“Yeah,” he said. “You love sucking cock, don’t you?”
“Oh yeah,” I said quietly.
“Take mine,” he ordered.
I opened wider for him and he rammed himself in all the way. I nearly gagged. This guy had not been in my mouth before. He wasn’t one of the first three—that much I knew. How many of them were there? From the hoots and hollers, it was hard to tell. There was also the noise from the partygoers downstairs and the music that filled the house.
The forceful guy fucked my mouth so hard that I did actually choke and cough. It was too much, but still in a good way. All my life had been one long struggle to be the opposite of this. I’d done everything right. Good grades. Outstanding behavior. So many volunteer hours. I’d listened to my parents and priests admonish me about ridding myself of badness and never letting the dark side win. It had been an endless battle, and tonight
I’d given in. This was the stuff I’d wondered about, the sordid life I never thought I’d live.
“You love it,” the guy said. And he was right.
“Mm-hmm.”
“Your lips are so beautiful,” he told me.
I kept on sucking, taking him in and releasing him slowly. Back and forth.
“Baby, you’re so good at this,” he said, touching the side of my face.
I wondered if he could tell I was trying to smile.
“That’s it,” he said softly. “Nice and slow like that.”
The rhythm continued. There was a nice rocking motion going on between the three of us. The guy behind me found his groove in time with the guy in front. Were they looking at each other? My mind puzzled over the strangest stuff in the darkness. Yet, there was certainty that I was the main attraction, the central focus of everything. With that awareness, I surrendered completely to the sway of our dance together.
The guy in front of me pulled out. I could hear that he was stroking himself in front of me. It was as though he wanted to give me a chance to recover and let my mouth rest.
“I’m going to paint those pretty lips of yours,” he said. He wanted to see everything. I’d asked Hunter about that phenomenon when we first started sleeping together. Why did guys like to make a big mess like that? What was the arousal factor in ejaculating on a woman’s face? He had told me that there was really nothing that aroused and satisfied a man more than seeing his own cum. I’d argued I thought it was a territorial thing and maybe also a subconscious desire to dominate, and Hunter had said yes with a smile that simultaneously made me want to punch him and let him do it to me.
No one besides Hunter had ever come on my face before. It was new to me. Exes had told me they respected me too much, that they thought of it as inappropriate, and I had agreed. In my typical righteous way, I’d argued that it was dirty and disrespectful, echoing everything I’d been taught about sex in general. But it was also so incredibly hot. Messy. Gooey. Completely déclassé and disgusting, it satisfied the part of me that needed to get down and dirty.