[interesting]

My letter is "D". It's a random assignment. I have no idea what Miranda's number is. I have yet to be assigned a number that I need to match to my letter. I have yet to be assigned a partner for the start of the evening.

As I look around the room, I'm satisfied that there are no girls here that I wouldn't mind spending some time with. Perhaps I'm just open-minded. They come in all shapes and sizes too. So far, everybody's still dressed, but some wear very provocative gear. Of course, everyone came here with an expectation of sex. So did I. Now, looking about, I wonder if that's what I really want. My eyes gaze towards Miranda, and I'm wondering if I shouldn't be content for what we already have instead of expanding my sexuality even further.

I keep thinking of Sarah too, how much she would like this. I picture her across the room, waiting for her number to be picked. But then, the master of ceremony, a young man in a top hat, begins calling out numbers. The party gets going, and my mind returns to the moment.

"D-7." he calls out.

I scan the room for a reaction. There's a small blonde in the corner that seems to be doing the same. She may be my match. I haven't really been introduced to anyone, so I don't know her name. She's pretty in her short black skirt, high heels and see-through tank top and black bra. I may go for it. No one else seemed to react when the number was called out. I might as well go for it, since I'm here.

As I begin walking towards her, I'm accosted by another girl, much taller, a red-head (though it looks like she dyes her hair). She's wearing tight red pants and a strapless black and red top exposing her shoulders.

"Are you C?" she asks me.

I stare her down even as she does the same. She's undressing me. She's hoping I'm 'C' so she can take me away. I try not to glance back at the blonde who might be my actual partner. I remember Miranda telling me I can lie. And this girl is hot; her body is athletic, slim, curvy. I'm tempted to lie - I'm tempted to take advantage of that liberty.

"Sorry," I hear myself reply, and I wonder why.

She seems clearly disappointed. She knows I could have lied. She's interpreting my reaction as my lack of desire to be with her, which theoretically is not the case. Suddenly, I feel bad.

"I could be..." I start to whisper, but I see I've lost her.

She doesn't even say anything as she walks away. I see two guys moving in towards the blonde, so I somehow hurry up. I can't let them snatch her up. I even call her out.

"7?"

She looks my way and stares blankly; she doesn't seem as interested in me as the red-head was, and it makes me feel inadequate. This certainly is a weird way to play, I tell myself, but I keep on walking towards her. The other guys there are younger than me. The blonde is younger as well; it almost feels like she's still a teenager, but I know everyone's of age here. The place couldn't operate otherwise.

"You're D?" she asks me.
"I am."

She's checking me out, like a piece of meat. She finally turns to the other two.

"Maybe later," she tells them. "Right now, I got my prize..."

Suddenly, I'm back in the game, flattered. She grabs my hand without saying a word, and drags me away from the main hall. I quickly glance back at Miranda who is still not currently paired with anyone. She seems like she's wishing me good luck.

"What's your name?" I ask my blonde partner.
"No names. You're D. I'm 7. Or made up names."
"Made up names I'd prefer."

She shrugs.

"Call me Artsy."
"Allright, Artsy, I'm Kirk."
"Like Captain Kirk?"
"Yeah, sure."
"All right, Captain..."

She drags me into a room, pushing me towards the bed, then she gets down to her knees and starts unbuckling my pants. There's no small talk, no lead up to it. Her hands are on my belt, then my zipper, and she's pulling them down around my ankles. I'm sporting dark tight underwear: those are off a moment later, between my ankles.

"...uh..."
"No words, Kirk," she orders me.

I stay quiet. She reaches into her purse and retrieves her lipstick, a very dark red one, and applies some on her lips, seductively, inches away from my crotch. Her hot breath hits my nether region and I go hard. She smiles.

"Didn't take long," she says.
"Are you gonna blow me?" I ask, somewhat surprised that she's going for it without more preamble.
"Too many words! Quiet!"

I remain silent as I wait to see what she does next. She places one warm hand on my sack and starts gently kneading it; then, her lips move to my shaft and she opens wide. Within seconds, my tip is hitting the back of her throat and she's gagging on it. I'm quite stunned at her initiative and, to be fair, a little turned off. There's some kind of psychological reaction in my mind that makes me want to look away (whereas anytime anyone else has given me a blowjob, I've always had a tendency to look). It feels sloppy, almost awkward.

"You can moan," she manages to say with my cock in her mouth.

I try to moan, but she's not doing anything but gagging on it, almost like she's ready to make herself puke. It's quite disturbing somehow. Eventually though, she pulls back slightly and starts stroking the exposed flesh. Her tongue flicks my tip even as her dark red lips sloppily stain my shaft.

"Gonna come?" she also manages to say.
"...uh, not yet."
"All right, well, let me know, I wanna swallow it."
"Are you sure?" I ask her. "Wouldn't you rather... uh... have sex?"

She ignores my comment and gobbles me up again. She's doing a better job of getting me worked up the second time around. I'm perplexed. If I come this early in the evening, how am I going to last the rest of the night? It's around 7:30 now, and I'm supposed to be hanging out until a little after 10.

For the first time in a long time, I stop what she's doing.

"Listen, Artsy, uh... this isn't what I want."

She stops what she's doing, pulls away from my shaft and looks up at me.

"No? Every guy likes a blowjob!"
"Usually, yes. And you're doing a good job, but... I came here to have fun and you're sort of rushing me."

She seems disappointed, but I can't tell at what.

"Look, Kirk," she tells me, "this is how I get off. Do you want me to blow you or not?"

It seems like sex isn't even on the table with her. It's definitely not what I wanted for a partner, but I'm afraid to offend her. I'm afraid that, if she doesn't get what she wants, I won't be invited again to this place. I'm afraid I'll disappoint Miranda. Even as I'm considering, my blonde partner's gaze lights up.

"I know I can rush things sometimes," she tells me. "Hang on."

She pushes me to sit on the bed, then she pulls off - quite seductively - her see-through tank top. She then turns her back to me and, with one hand, unhooks her bra and takes it off.

"Would skin help?"
"It can't hurt," I say, trying to sound pleasant.

She smiles, then crawls towards me, and returns her lips to my cock. I say nothing more, enjoying the sight of her naked back (since it's all I can see from her in this position). She's even better with my cock the third time around. She is teasing it masterfully, and I wonder why she didn't start with that technique in the first place. Even as her pace intensifies, so does her skill at deepthroating me. It's a wonderful sensation that builds up progressively between my legs.

"Oh fuck, Artsy... I'm so damn close."

A hum from her lips confirms that she's understood and she increases the intensity. It only takes a couple more seconds before I can't hold back and fire away down her gullet. I feel her tremble as she swallows everything I can give her. She finally pulls away: my cock is a mess of dark red lipstick and saliva. Her mouth is just a mess.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?"
"That was great for me, but what about you?"
"Don't worry about me, Kirk."

She pulls away from me and retrieves her handbag. From inside, she extracts two items: a small vibrator and a large dildo. I stare at her with questions in my eyes.

"You wanna try something wicked?" she asks me.
"Depends on what?"
"I'm gonna tie you up first."
"Tie me up? How?"
"Just ropes, on the bed."

I've never been much into bondage, but apparently she wants to play. I'm spent, so there's not much I can until I can get hard again, and that might be anything up to an hour from now. I don't see the harm in getting tied up, as long as it's reasonable.

"All right," I tell her.

She smiles. The next minute, my hands are tied stretched sideways to the bedposts as I'm sitting against the back frame. Her eyes look a little sinister; I hope it's just my imagination. My bottom half is still fully exposed, so I hope she doesn't get any ideas of doing something too hard. However, she seems to be focusing on herself. She strips out of her dress and lacy underwear, then sits at the other end of the bed. She places the vibrator against her clitoris, holding it in place with a strap, turns it on, then retrieves the dildo.

"Let's see how long it takes until you get hard again," she tells me. "In the meantime, here's something to give you an incentive."

And then, she puts on a show, and it's quite erotic, to be truthful. I watch her play with her body, the vibrator and the dildo for half an hour; she makes sure that every climax she gives herself becomes, in itself, almost a theatrical performance. After those first thirty minutes, I finally get an erection back, but she waits to give herself another rise before checking up on me.

"Well, that's nice to see," she teases me with words.
"You can untie me now," I tell her.
"Maybe."

She smiles.

"Or maybe I just swallow you up and milk you some more."

As much as I enjoyed that first blowjob (at least at the end), I want something else now. I want more.

"Please untie me," I tell her.

She giggles, lowering her mouth to my cock, and she resumes her oral exercise. It's not that it's disagreeable, quite the contrary, but it is frustrating not to get what I want.

"Artsy, untie me right now!"

She's surprised at the forcefulness of my tone - and then I see the wink in her eye.

"And what do I get if I do?"
"You get a pounding, is what you get!" I reply in the same aggressive tone.

Finally, she lets me go. I wait for both my hands to be free, then I pounce on her. I almost forget about my promise to Sarah - and it seems almost irrelevant now, but it was also a promise for me. I reach for my pants, grab a condom, tear it out of the pack, slide it on my cock, then push my naked partner face down on the mattress. She struggles a bit, for the fun of it, but it's not long until I have control over her and I steady my erection against her vaginal opening.

"Are you gonna do it?" she goads me on.

I do it. Why should I hold back? Do I have any reason to? I fuck her. Plain and simple. I don't hold back. I ram it deep, almost violently, inside her, and I'm getting back from her the moaning sounds that I need to drive me forward. It takes me back to wonderful places and I forget, for an instant, where I am.

"Ah! Fuck... Sarah!!!"

Luckily for me, my partner plays into it.

"Yes, James... fuck me hard... fuck me!"

I completely lose myself in the fantasy. It's not long before I spend myself again, completely lost to whatever is really troubling me. Sex has a tendency to do that, to make you lose focus on what's important because it feels so intense.

Right now, all that matters is the bliss I just took from my nameless partner.