It was a casual thing. Burgers and dogs on the grill, potato salad, baked beans, corn on the cob, that sort of thing. I had mentioned to folks that I would have a case or two of beer, but that they should otherwise bring their own beverages for the evening. Amusing, each person who came brought a whole case, and by the time dinner rolled around, my two cases had grown to twenty. I had to pull extra party buckets out of the hall closet.
It was when I was pulling another bucket out of that closet that you rang the bell. I looked at the clock; you had arrived precisely one hour after I told you things would be getting started. Interesting.
When I answered the door, I saw that you were wearing a sun dress. Convenient. You gave a little smile.
"Hi!" You gave a little wave. I invited you in. Pointing out the living room and dining room on the way, I escorted you into the kitchen in the back, and to the back door. Most folks were out in the back yard, around the fire pit; the recycling bin was full of bottles already.
I made introductions all around. I told you to pull up a chair, and to have a seat.
"No, I'm ok," you said.
"It wasn't a request," I whispered into your ear. You grinned, and grabbed one of the chairs by the back door.
We had an eclectic group of people over that evening. The engineers, the artists, the sports enthusiasts, the self-employed. The burgers were cooked medium, the tomatoes were fresh and ripe. As the sun went down, the level of bottles in the bin went up. There were arguments started, heated discussions. Politics, of course. Business. Sports rivalries. Electronics specifications. How the ceiling in the dining room should be painted.
Someone lit up a joint, and started passing it around. I wasn't in the mood, and went inside to load the dishwasher again. You had struck up a conversation with my wife about how you both have that one person in the offices where you work who absolutely, positively needs to go. I looked out the window at this, and I was amused.
The evening wore on, and bottles were piling up. I discovered that someone had opened my scotch. There was music playing, though I don't recall what it was. There were people outside, people inside, wandering around the house, sitting on the stairs, sitting in the living room, sitting on the kitchen floor. Two someones were giggling on the front porch. Through the smoke and the music and the haze of imported liquor, people moved from room to room, losing each other, then being delighted to find each other in the next room over.
I had gone upstairs, to my office, to fetch a specific book to lend to one of the engineers sitting outside. I found you sitting in my chair, behind my desk, paging through a book you had pulled from my shelves. You looked up when I entered the room.
"Not exactly the sort of party I was expecting when you invited me over," you said with a smile.
I paused. "What sort of party were you expecting? I told you that we were having a number of people over, and that this wasn't going to be just you and me. Or you and us."
"I know, I know. And I've been so good. Your friends seem interesting. And that west coast boy with the long hair is pretty hot."
"He is," I agreed. "But you're not his tonight."
You raised an eyebrow.
"You know the rules," I continued. "If you are to belong to me, it will be necessary for you to do as you are told - and to accept whatever punishment you are given for not doing so."
You hadn't been expecting such a pointed statement, such seriousness. You giggled, and then you stopped giggling.
I had moved from the door of the room to standing right next to you. I stood above you, looking down on you in my chair. You sat up, and reached your left hand behind me, giving my ass a squeeze. I set my right hand on your shoulder, and then moved it up towards your neck, sliding my fingers into your hair.
Once there, I tightened my fist, balling your hair among my fingers, and pulling you up and out of my chair. You were surprised, and opened your mouth to say so. I forced your face to my own, and kissed you, hard on your open mouth. Your grip tightened - and so did mine.
I grinned an evil little grin. Releasing your hair, and moving my hand down behind you, I set my fingers on your ass, and my thumb in the small of your back. I gave you a little push, guiding you to the door.
"Come with me."
I walked you down to the far end of the hall, and into the bathroom. I closed the door behind us. I did not turn on the light.
You turned around to face me, and I reached up into your hair again, making a fist, holding your head.
"You were late," I said.
"I was fashionably late," you replied. "Who comes right on time?" you asked.
"You'll cum when I tell you to cum," I tightened my grip on your hair, and with my left hand on your shoulder, pushed you to your knees.
You knew what to do. You knew why you were here, and what you were for.
You undid my belt, and slid my chinos down. You massaged my growing hardness beneath my shorts, and then slid those down as well, feeling me bouncing free as you did.
You gripped me, running your hands up and down me, enjoying the feel of me in your hand. You gave my swollen head a tentative lick, a little kiss, resting your lips against me.
That's when I opened my hand to spread my fingers on the back of your head, and pushed your face onto me, sliding myself into your mouth, down your throat.
