Ben and Gabrielle spent the morning preparing for their combination New Year’s Eve house warming costume party. They split up to hit the grocery store, the liquor store, and their favorite adult bookstore – Devilish Delights – to pick up supplies and party favors. Once they unpacked the myriad bags and boxes, knowing they’d be up late into the night, they took a nap. Though persistent thoughts of the upcoming concupiscent revelry made both horny and willing, they avoided having sex, wanting to save themselves for later.
They slept late into the afternoon, then rose and continued their preparations, waiting as long as possible before showering and helping each other into their costumes. Ben decided to dress as one of his favorite writers: Edgar Allan Poe. He paired a coal-black 19th century-style suit and vest with a high-collared white shirt and a blood-red tie; complimenting the outfit with a stuffed raven he nicknamed Lenore.
Gaby dressed as Catwoman — The Dark Night Rises/Anne Hathaway incarnation of that character. Ben called her The Black Cat Woman, referring to the Poe story about le chat noir. Over her pixie-cut dark brown hair she wore a mid-back length brunette wig. The blue-black latex costume hugged every curve and crevice of her body. The stiletto-heeled leather thigh-high boots and elbow-length gloves she wore threatened Ben’s sanity — he had a thing for elbow-length opera gloves. He preferred black satin, but certainly wasn’t complaining about what she currently wore. He found it difficult to keep his hands off her as the two finished arranging food and favors.
“I think that’s everything,” she said, looking over a kitchen counter crowded with snacks, drinks — including soft drinks for Ben, and the two party guests under the legal drinking age — plates, napkins, silverware, and other supplies, as she again pushed away his hands.
“Mmmm, so we have a few minutes to kill before anyone arrives,” he said.
“No,” she sighed. “You have to wait until after midnight.”
Ben glanced at the clock over the sink — 8:55.
“I may go mad before then,” he objected.
“I doubt it, Mr. Poe,” she said with a giggle. “Just stay away from the cognac and the opium.”
“Never touch the stuff,” Ben assured her. “Lenore used to have an opium problem, but she went to rehab and got herself cleaned up.”
“You’re already mad,” she said, rolling her eyes.
He pulled aside the hair of her wig and tried to kiss her neck — one of her most sensitive spots — but the costume protected much of the skin there. Changing his target, he aimed for her deep red lips, noticing her lipstick matched his tie. He doubted it was a coincidence.
“Don’t mess up my face,” she said, allowing him only a peck.
“Baby, a garbage truck couldn’t mess up your beautiful face,” he said.
“Well, aren’t you a smoothie?” she asked, rhetorically.
He winked at her and smiled.
“Are you ready for tonight?” Ben asked.
“If we’ve forgotten anything, I can’t think what it is,” Gaby said.
“I mean, are you ready for tonight,” he repeated, pulling her to him.
“Ohhh,” she said. “It’s gonna be a fun night.”
She permitted him another kiss.
“Everything is open,” Gaby said. “Just remember rules one and three.”
“You too,” he said. “And, rule four.”
“What the hell is rule four?” she asked.
Before he could explain, she realized what he meant.
“Kiss me, you idiot,” she ordered.
For the third time in a minute, he did so.
“Now, tell me you love me,” she continued.
“You know I do,” he said, teasing her.
“Say it,” she demanded.
The doorbell rang.
“Saved by the bell,” he laughed.
She punched him in the shoulder as he turned to walk into the hallway leading to the foyer. He opened the heavy wooden door to find Andy — their next door neighbor.
“Jane Austen at your service, Good Sir,” she said, smiling.
“Welcome, Ms. Austen,” Ben said.
In her left hand, she held a plastic bag. Ben could see three bottles of wine in the bag. As she entered, Andy held out her right hand. Ben took hold of it and planted a small kiss on the first knuckle.
“I’ve enjoyed your work; especially Pride and Prejudice,” Ben added.
Ben took her coat. Underneath, Andy wore a modest, flowing, pale-blue 18th century-style dress. Gaby joined them as Andy kissed Ben lips.
“My, my,” Andy said, seeing her. “You look good enough to eat.”
“I agree,” Ben said.
“You two are pervs,” Gaby sighed.
“Uh, yeah,” Ben agreed, as Andy kissed Gaby. “But, that’s why you love us.”
“Is Morgana coming?” Gaby asked — referring to Andy’s grandmother and housemate — as the three walked toward the kitchen.
“No,” Andy answered. “It’s almost Nana’s bedtime. She’ll be asleep long before midnight.”
Ben and Gabrielle purchased their house — one of only seven on the street — from Nana Morgana a few months earlier, but were only able to move in two weeks before the party. They hadn’t even escort ankara had time to finish furnishing the house. It came as no surprise that moving from a two-bedroom apartment to a five-bedroom house left them with lots of empty space.
“Wish her a happy New Year for us,” Gaby requested.
“I’ll do that,” Andy assured her.
The three stood in the kitchen, talking — and trying to resist the overwhelming sexual gravitational pull between their bodies. Andy suggested they open the wine, allowing it to breathe. As Ben extracted the last cork, the doorbell rang again. He placed the bottle on the counter and picked up a hand-lettered sign he’d made as he again entered the hallway. Gaby and Andy made their way to the living room as Ben answered the door. William Shakespeare — Ben’s friend Godfrey, God for short — stood on the porch.
“Ah, Master Shakespeare,” Ben said. “I love your work.”
“And, I, yours, Mr. Poe,” God said.
They shook hands.
“You know my wife, Anne Hathaway, of course,” God said, turning toward his companion.
Ben turned his gaze to God’s wife, Maya, a thin, blue-eyed, redhead with porcelain skin. She held out her hand and he kissed it, as he’d done so recently with Andy.
“I suspect we may be on the verge of an extraordinarily literary evening, My Friend,” Ben said. “Ms. Austen has already arrived.”
“Ah, yes, wonderful writing,” God said, “for a chick.”
“Hey,” Maya cried, giving him a push.
The two men laughed as the couple entered the house.
“So, when can we expect some new stuff, Will?” Ben asked.
“Well, I just signed a three picture deal with MGM,” God said, soberly.
Ben lingered by the door to affix his sign; it quoted one of his favorite songs: The house is a rockin’, don’t bother knockin’. The house is a rockin’, don’t bother, come on in! The majority of their guests arrived over the next 45 minutes. Ben and Gaby spent much of that time accepting house warming gifts, hanging up coats, and introducing unacquainted guests. By 10:00pm, there were nearly 30 people in the house, and everyone used the next two hours to mingle, talk, eat, drink, and be merry.
As midnight neared, Ben glanced around the living room. Their friends had come wearing an eclectic collection of costumes. He saw the usual assortment of garb one might expect — hookers, witches, Catholic schoolgirls, cheerleaders, doctors, soldiers, and astronauts. In addition, he could see Sharon and Karl, dressed as a sexy cop and her prisoner; Sam as Darth Vader, and Billie as Wonder Woman, talking to Zoe clothed — barely — in a Slave Leia costume. Brit — a former student of Gaby’s, their cleaning girl, an occasional guest in their bed, and the object of Gaby’s adoration — wore a billowing, bright yellow ball gown as Belle from Beauty and the Beast. She stood in a corner with Dylan, who wore a hooded sweatshirt — the young man claimed to be Mark Zuckerburg.
Ben grinned as he caught sight of Kate. She wore a priest’s frock, but a long, thick, flesh-colored dildo protruded from a hole in the front. She’d been entertaining herself by sneaking up behind other guests and bumping into them with the prosthetic, causing a variety of surprised reactions. He saw Marilyn Monroe, Audrey Hepburn, a Spartan, a female 1930s gangster, a Hipster, and a pilot. His eyes settled on Bridget. She was dressed as a sexy secretary, her natural 38DDD breasts strained against the thin fabric of her white cotton shirt, and the sheer black bra underneath. Her top three buttons were open, and the fourth seemed to be under enormous stress; in danger of popping at any moment.
Bridget had come with Whitney, next door neighbor of Ben and Gaby before they moved from the apartment to this house. Whit had arrived wearing a black, plastic mini-skirt, neon green fishnet stockings, four-inch stiletto heels, a tiny black bra, a pink mesh shirt, and black mesh fingerless gloves. Gaby guessed right away she was a prostitute — at least for the duration of the party.
“Hey, Sugar! How much?” Gaby joked.
“For you,” Whit promised, “cheap.”
Checking the television — on, but muted — Ben noticed less than 10 minutes remained until the New Year. He waved to Gaby, turned down the music, and stood in front of the fireplace. Gaby joined him, putting her arm around his waist.
“Before the party really gets out of hand,” he said, “we have a few things to say.”
He was showered with a chorus of boos and curses.
“First,” he continued, undaunted. “Gaby and I want to thank you for coming to our party.”
A half-hearted cheer rose from the crowd.
“The adult fun will begin after midnight,” Ben said, “when all the good girls and boys are home in bed.”
“All good girls and boys, raise your hands,” Gaby ordered.
No hands went up. After a few moments of looking around, the crowd laughed again.
“Perfect,” Gaby said, smiling.
“Though we have a shortage of actual beds,” Ben started again, “every room in the house is available for use ankara escortlar in the night’s debauchery, except my office, and the master bedroom. Other than that, have fun.”
“The hot tub is warmed up and ready to go,” Gaby chimed in. “Just don’t play in the kitchen, for sanitary reasons, and don’t tie up the bathrooms. There are four bedrooms upstairs, and a finished basement downstairs.”
“I think we have plenty of condoms, lube, baby wipes, and towels for everyone,” Ben said.
“From midnight until sunrise, anything between two — or more — consenting adults goes,” Gaby said, with a wink. “The only other rule is: no cell phones or cameras. Like in Las Vegas, whatever happens here, stays here.”
Several people stood up and began milling around.
“There’s one more thing,” Ben said.
His audience groaned.
“Shut up, you bunch of bloody perverts,” Gaby yelled.
When the room was once again quiet, Ben continued.
“I’d like to announce that Gaby and I have set a date for our wedding,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulders. “On October 17, Gabrielle will become my wife.”
A wave of applause filled the room before the women rushed to hug Gaby. The men shook Ben’s hand, slapped him on the back, and told him how dumb he was for getting married. As this surge of commotion quieted, the front door burst open. A young woman rushed in, sloughing off her coat. Her long, dirty-blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail. She wore five-inch high heels, and a short — it barely fell to her inner thighs — waitress’s uniform. The top of the dress bulged out at least a foot, and the zipper rested just below a pair of massive, inflatable plastic breasts — exposing a large amount of faux cleavage.
“Did I miss it?” she called out.
As the crowd around them drifted away, Ben once more glanced at the television.
“You made it with two minutes to spare,” he said. “It’s almost time, everyone.”
The late-comer approached Ben and Gaby.
“Gaby, this is Caroline,” Ben said, as Caroline held out her hand. “She works at the toy store. I ran into her today, and invited her to join the party.”
Knowing they were often attracted to the same women, Ben felt confident inviting Caroline to the party. Greeting younger woman, Gaby perused her body. The fake breasts notwithstanding, she was undeniably sexy. The heels made it uncertain, but Gaby guessed her to be about 5’5″. She had fair skin, and a beautiful face, featuring lovely ocean-blue eyes.
Whitney called out that midnight was approaching. A mob gathered around the television to watch the broadcast from Times Square. As their guests joined the countdown, Ben pulled Gaby to him and pressed his lips to hers, giving her a long, deep kiss which bridged the old year and the new. When the ball reached the bottom of the pole and exploded in light, a cacophony of “Happy New Year!” cheers filled the house. The noise faded almost as quickly, as everyone began hugging and kissing.
“I love you, Gabrielle,” Ben said, when his mouth left hers. “First, last, and always.”
“I know,” Gaby whispered, giving him a wink.
They split up to hug others. As Ben moved around the room, he spied Andy sitting in “The Ben Chair” — an oversized red upholstered chair. Santana, a 21-year-old Latina dressed as a high school cheerleader, straddled her lap. The two women were kissing passionately, each with their hands on the others cheeks.
“That didn’t take very long,” Ben said.
Several people gathered, forming a semi-circle in front of the women. There was a palpable change in the atmosphere of the room. The temperature seemed to rise as Andy’s hands slid downward to Santana’s ass. She lifted the bottom of the red sleeveless dress, showing off Santana’s black spandex short shorts. The sight brought a murmur of approval from several members of the group.
Gaby leaned against Ben’s right side as she watched Andy slip her hand into the back of Santana’s undergarment. He moved his hand to Gaby’s perfect ass, squeezing her through the latex of her costume, while Santana’s mouth drifted to Andy’s neck. She gently bit the skin and Andy’s eyes opened. Andy noticed saw the congregation watching them. Focusing on Ben and Gaby, she grinned. Both gave a small wave as they stepped away to check on the other guests.
Across the room, Natalie — the Catholic schoolgirl — had Kate — the fallen priest — pushed to the wall. She was vigorously stroking the dildo sticking through Kate’s robe. Ben was mesmerized by Natalie’s mouth. There was something unexplainably hot about it. It seemed so small, almost pursed, but she had a wide smile, revealing perfect, white teeth. He watched Natalie gasp as Kate forced her hands under the young woman’s skirt; he could imagine what Kate’s fingers were doing. Only a minute later, Natalie’s body convulsed, collapsing against Kate as her knees threatened to buckle. Kate held her tightly as she came. Ben noticed Whitney and Bridget sitting close to one another on the couch. They were ankara kaliteli escortlar holding hands as they watched Kate and Natalie; understandably transfixed by the sight.
Natalie recovered quickly. She pushed away Kate’s hand and knelt in front of her. Looking up into her eyes, she leaned forward and took the head of the priest’s cock between her lips. Natalie wrapped her hands around the base, holding it firmly as she moved her mouth up and down the length. Kate placed her hands on Natalie’s head, guiding her onto the latex toy. Kate’s lips parted and she moaned. Ben realized it must be a strapless dildo. The other end was inside Kate’s pussy, and had been all night.
“Holy shit,” Ben whispered, feeling himself harden.
Whitney and Bridget stood up from the couch. Whit smiled and patted Ben’s chest as they walked past him. He watched them enter the dining room, heading toward the kitchen, then returned his gaze to Kate. She pulled Natalie to her feet and dragged her to the couch. Pushing her down on her knees, bent over the arm of the couch, Kate knelt behind her. She reached up and grabbed Natalie’s hair, pulling it hard.
“I’m gonna fuck your pussy now, you little whore,” Kate growled, as she used her free hand to flip Natalie’s pleated skirt up onto her back, exposing her white, cotton panties.
Grabbing the underwear, Kate roughly pulled them down to Natalie’s thighs. Ben could see the wetness on Natalie’s lips. Kate released Natalie’s hair and put her left hand on her ass, while using her right hand to guide the toy. Ben estimated the toy to be about two inches thick, and as Kate let the head brush against Natalie’s lips — seeking to lubricate it with her juices — the sensation caused her to lean forward. Kate slapped her ass.
“You will not escape your punishment, harlot,” Kate said, loudly.
Natalie looked back over her shoulder.
“Please, teach me how to be a good girl,” she said.
Ben nearly laughed at the cheesiness of the scene playing out before him, but at the sight of Kate penetrating Natalie with the dildo arousal overwhelmed amusement. Natalie gasped as Kate entered her.
“More,” Natalie begged.
Looking around the room, Ben could see the crowd had thinned somewhat. He assumed several of the guests had retreated to the relative privacy of other rooms in the house. He watched for another minute as Kate worked the toy deep into Natalie’s cunt, grabbing onto to her hips to steady them both.
“If I’m wrong, and there really is a hell, I’m definitely going there,” Ben whispered to himself, as he reluctantly drifted away.
As he turned to walk toward the dining room, he noticed Marilyn Monroe — Dani, a natural brunette in a platinum blonde wig and the iconic white dress — on her knees in front of her husband, Russell, who’d come as an astronaut, wearing a blue NASA jumpsuit. Ben couldn’t help but be impressed. Without a doubt, Russell possessed the largest penis he’d ever seen outside of a pornographic movie — not that he’d seen all that many, but he had served in the United States Army, and had regularly showered with other men while living in the barracks — guessing Russell to be more than 10 inches long. He watched for several minutes as Dani struggled to work the cock with both hands and her mouth, her saliva rolling down the black skin of his shaft and balls.
Ben made his way into the den, a window-filled room looking out the side of the house, which provided a picturesque view of the New York City skyline. Two men occupied the dimly lit room: Noah — a Hipster — and Adrian — a soldier — sat on a sofa kissing. Ben thought back to the first time he’d seen the two men doing so. They’d been stationed together in the Army, during the “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” era in the military. Ben didn’t ask, nor did he tell. Truthfully, he didn’t care, believing love is love. In addition, he knew the two men were good soldiers, and who they kissed didn’t change that.
Exiting the den, Ben caught sight of Gaby. Not surprisingly, she had joined Brit and Dylan in the corner. Before he could reach the trio, Gaby took the others’ hands and led them toward the foyer. Ben smiled, knowing Gaby would enjoy herself with Brit. The front door opened slowly and a tall, statuesque bottle-blonde tentatively poked in her head. Gaby pulled Gina in the house and hugged her. As Ben moved toward them, Gina took off her coat. Ben recognized her costume immediately. She wore a low-cut, knee-length, sleeveless red dress, which clung to every curve, and black four-inch heels. With her shoes on, she matched his 6’3″ height.
“Sorry I’m late,” Gina said, kissing Ben’s cheek.
“I’m glad you made it, Caprica Six,” he responded, referring to the Cylon temptress in the re-imagined Battlestar Galactica television series. “You look terrific.”
She performed a slow 360, allowing him to examine the back of the dress. He voiced his approval, then offered her a drink. She accepted.
“We’re heading into the other room,” Gaby said, tugging at Brit and Dylan. “Ben will take care of you.”
Ben hung up Gina’s coat, then took her hand. As he led her into the hallway — heading toward the kitchen — she peeked into the living room, taking in some of the sights Ben had been enjoying just minutes before.