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[This story contains butch lesbian characters who use she/her, they/them, and he/him pronouns.]
It’s Halloween. My apartment is decorated in orange and black and purple streamers and fake spider webs. Spooky sound effects play over my bluetooth speaker, howling and evil laughter and eerie violin music. My dining table is covered in bottles of liquor and mixers, with a bowl of candy in the middle, just for me. No one else likes candy that much, but it made me dance with joy when Parker brought the bag for me. He’s dressed as a werewolf and wearing fake hair and a tight blank tank top that shows off his muscles. Lou is dressed as Gomez Addams, with a striped suit and a mustache. He’s always in a damn suit. Cal is Freddie Mercury at his Live Aid performance, with a white tank top, light blue jeans, and a black studded belt. She looks good. Really good. Zeke is looking like a sexy pirate as Captain Morgan, and they keep making the pose. And Max… Max bleached their curly hair and is dressed as Spike from Buffy the Vampire Slayer, who they know I have a crush on.
I’m dressed as a cowboy in a full get-up, with cowboy boots, assless chaps, a button-up Western shirt, a red bandana around my neck, and a cowboy hat. Zeke calls me “cowboy” and tugs on my bandana and it makes my ears warm. Max calls me “Daddy” and it makes my whole body flush. The last time we had a party together, it turned into strip poker and ended with me taking Cal’s cock and calling her Daddy, by accident, in front of the group.
“Don’t tease her, Max,” Parker says, fiddling with my bandana. “After all, she’s flagging for fisting, not Daddies.”
I flush again. I’ve never fisted, or been fisted, but technically, with the bandana around my neck, I’m flagging as a switch for it. I’ve always been curious about it. I’m probably as red as the bandana.
I try to laugh it off. “Whatever, Parker.”
I grab a drink from the table, another White Claw. What can I say? I know what I like.
“Got your pussy drink?” Max asks, winking at me.
“Fuck off.” I roll my eyes.
“Whatever you say, cowboy,” Max says, playfully bumping arms with me as they walk by.
“Okay, Spike,” I try to spit back, but it doesn’t sound like an insult. It just sounds like the Spike costume is making me flustered, because it is. They look so hot with bleached hair and a leather jacket, fake sharp canines making their flashy white grin even sexier. It makes me think about them biting my neck, my knees going weak, their strong arms holding me up while they suck hard… Okay. Shit.
Sharing Max’s supernatural costume theme, Parker is a hot, muscular werewolf, pouring himself a whiskey at the table.
“Werewolves drink whiskey?” I ask.
“Cowboys drink White Claw?” he retorts.
I laugh. “That’s fair.”
He has fake hair on his face, chest, arms, and hands, and my eyes run over his rugby muscles under the black tank. I take a sip of my drink, feeling thirsty. I’m not usually attracted to hair this much, but God, it looks good on him.
He smiles at me. “Something catch your eye?”
I must have been more obvious in my checking out than I’d hoped. “No,” I clear my throat. “Great costume, man.”
He tips his head back and howls, to hoots and cheers from the others in the living room. He smiles and winks at me. “Thanks, cowboy,” he says, slapping my shoulder. Being called “cowboy” is making me feel hot and bothered the way being called “Daddy” or “good boy” does.
I walk over to the couch and sit down with Lou, Cal, and Zeke.
“Hey cowboy,” they greet me, and I feel hot.
“Hey,” I say. “What are we talking about?”
“To be honest,” Zeke says, “We were talking about your last party.” I flush.
“It was fun,” Cal says casually. I look at her and remember riding her cock and calling her Daddy with my hands tied behind my back by a white velvet bandana, the flag for voyeurs and exhibitionists.
“Yeah,” I agree, pretending to be casual. “Fun.”
“It was a good poker game,” Lou adds.
I was the first one naked in strip poker, offered up for sexual favors as my bet for hands.
“Mhmm,” I squeak, sipping my drink.
“You’re a very good host,” Zeke adds.
“Thank you,” I say, growing redder. I didn’t think it would be this hard to play it cool around my friends after our last party.
“What game should we play tonight?” Lou asks.
“Never have I ever?” Cal suggests.
“Spin the bottle?” Zeke says with an eyebrow waggle.
“How ’bout truth or dare?” Parker walks into the room and joins the conversation.
None of these are good ideas. Shit. My heart is hammering and my palms are sweaty, thinking about the direction this could go.
“I like truth or dare,” Max adds, joining the living room too. My sofa and chairs sit the six of us. I look around the room to our ridiculous ensemble of costumes and smile to myself.
“Sure,” Lou says, his thin Gomez mustache twitching up into a smirk.
“Zeke?” Parker asks, arching a hairy eyebrow.
“Aye, matey,” Zeke winks.
“I’m down,” Cal chimes in. She leans back and stretches her arms kaçak iddaa behind her head so that her Freddie Mercury white tank top stretches across her chest, and I notice that she’s not wearing a bra.
Christ. I’m fucked.
“Charlie?” Parker asks, waving his hand at me. I blink and clear my head.
“Yeah,” I say for the sake of agreeing. “Why not.”
“Great. Well, as the host, why don’t you start us off?”
Oh God. I cough and clear my throat.
“Okay. Truth.” I take a drink.
“What’s your favorite card game?” Max asks with a smirk.
I blush, thinking of strip poker. “Uno,” I answer.
“Not poker?” Zeke jokes. My blush deepens.
“Next?” I ask, not answering their question, looking at Max and Zeke on either side of me.
“I’ll go,” Max says. “Dare.”
“Let us do body shots off of you, Spike,” Parker teases.
Max shrugs. “Sure.”
Parker grabs tequila, lime slices, and salt from the dining table and brings it over to the living room. Max lies down on the coffee table and lifts their black t-shirt, showing their sports bra and toned abs. I swallow without meaning to.
Everyone takes their turn licking Max’s abs and sprinkling salt on them, pouring tequila into their belly button, licking it up and taking a bite of lime to finish it off.
When it’s my turn, I try to stay focused on swallowing the shot without coughing. I try not to get distracted by Max’s hot body or gaze on me. I prepare the body shot on their six pack, lick the salt, suck up the tequila, bite the lime, and wince. Max winks at me from the table, fangs glinting.
Next up is Cal, in her tight white tank top and studded black belt, who chooses truth.
“Do you always pack a teal dick?” Lou asks.
“No, not always,” she grins. A non-specific answer. She could pack other dicks, or not pack at all.
Next is Parker’s turn, the hairy werewolf. He picks dare.
“Guess who’s wearing boxers or briefs,” Zeke suggests.
“Hmm, good one.” Parker considers, peering at each of us around the room. He starts with Lou. “Boxers.” Zeke. “Briefs.” Me. “Boyshorts.” Dammit. He’s right. Max. “Boxers.” Cal. “Boxer briefs. How’d I do?”
A chorus of agreement rises up from the group, acquiescing. Then Max shrugs and says, “Nope. Commando.” They wink at Parker and spread their legs, leaning back in their chair. We burst up laughing and Zeke calls Max a slut. I blush thinking about Max’s pants and what’s not underneath them.
Lou’s turn is next, looking dapper in his striped suit and mustache. He chooses truth.
“What’s something you’re embarrassed to admit?” Cal asks, sipping her beer.
He ponders for a moment, wincing when he thinks of something but knowing he has to say it out loud. “I jerk off thinking about the poker game.”
Not “I’ve jerked off.” I jerk off. As in, repeatedly. I could faint. I start to imagine him jerking off, and my mouth goes dry.
There are some chuckles around the room and I think I hear Parker mutter under his breath, “You’re not the only one.” But between him sitting across from me and the Halloween sound effects playing in the background, I can’t be sure what he said.
Now it’s Zeke’s turn, the sexy pirate. They choose dare.
“Demonstrate your best oral sex move on the nearest object,” Max dares.
“What’s the nearest object?” Zeke asks, looking around. Parker passes them his empty beer bottle from the table. “Here,” he laughs.
Zeke shrugs, and goes for it. Their performance is something to watch. They swirl their tongue around the lip of the brown bottle, slipping their tongue inside the opening repeatedly, then wrapping their mouth around the neck of the bottle and swallowing, pumping it in and out of their mouth, adding moans for effect.
It makes me wet.
When they finish, they pull the bottle from their mouth with a pop and quirk their eyebrow at me.
I swallow as everyone turns to me. “Truth,” I say, still not ready to receive a dare.
“Have you ever had a sexual fantasy about someone here, and if so, please share details.” Parker sounds like he was ready with this one.
Jesus fucking Christ.
“Uhm,” I clear my throat. “I, um, have …” I trail off, looking around the room. The truth is there are multiple fantasies, and multiple people I’ve fantasized about. There were a few fantasies before the poker game, fantasies about Max and Cal, but since the poker game, I’ve been curious about Parker and Zeke and Lou too, fantasizing about the group of the five of them together, fantasizing about every possible group sex scenario that could come to mind. I’ve even searched for lesbian orgy porn, which was cringingly mainstream porn made for heterosexual men, of course, barely scratching the butch4butch itch, but enough to spark ideas.
I lock eyes with Cal and pick an answer impulsively. “I’ve thought about taking Cal’s cock again but with someone else’s cock in my mouth too.” I flush red and sip my drink for something to do. Thinking about this is turning me on. I realize that I casually referenced taking Cal’s cock again and reminded everyone of, you know, kaçak bahis the last time.
“An acceptable answer,” Parker says, regarding me. Max whistles and Zeke whoops, but then a charged silence falls between us, and Cal is looking at me intently. I can’t breathe well right now, but I’m trying not to be obvious about breathing hard, so I’m feeling lightheaded. Or maybe I’m feeling lightheaded for other reasons.
Max is next. They choose dare.
“Okay,” Lou chimes in. “Everyone closes their eyes and Max kisses three people: one person they’re most attracted to, one person who they think is most attracted to them, and one person they want to get to know better.”
Max shrugs. “Easy.”
I close my eyes with the group. I hear the quiet sounds of a kiss, then another. Then I feel warm lips on mine, brushing gently, a soft tongue sneaking out to graze my lips. I almost whimper. Which one of the three was I?
Cal is next. She picks truth.
“What was your best hookup? Share the details,” Max says.
She ponders for a moment. “Probably my first time with another top. It was very high tension, fighting for dominance, top4top sort of sex.”
“Who topped?” I ask.
“I’ll never tell,” she says mischievously. I groan. Either answer is hot, honestly, but I just want to know. Still, I don’t push.
The game moves onto Parker, who chooses a dare.
Zeke says, “You should… put an ice cube in your mouth and suck on someone’s neck for 60 seconds.”
“Whose?” Parker asks.
Zeke shrugs. “You pick.”
Parker looks at me with dark, lustful eyes. “Charlie?” I nod slowly. He goes to the kitchen and returns with an ice cube in his hand and sits down next to me on the couch. He puts it in his mouth and puts his lips to my neck, and I squeak at the sensation of cold on my neck. Then I relax and say ” Oh ” and let the shivers run over my body. I can feel his tongue tracing around the ice cube, teasing my skin.
The ice cube shrinks and eventually he swallows it and says “oops” but keeps his attention on my neck, licking and sucking until the timer goes off, and it makes me whimper.
Next is Lou’s turn. “Dare,” he declares.
“Drink a disgusting concoction from the kitchen,” Zeke suggests, laughing.
“Oh come on!” Lou protests.
“A dare is a dare,” Parker shrugs.
Zeke gets up to make it, crushing up candy corn and mixing in tequila, pumpkin juice, sriracha, pickle juice, and a small spoonful of garlic.
“Gnarly,” Max laughs.
“Gross,” Lou pouts.
“What’s the matter, Gomez?” Cal teases.
He takes it all in one swig, defiantly, retching when he’s done. He rinses his mouth with water and goes back to drinking his Manhattan.
Next is Zeke’s turn, and they pick truth like a chicken, knowing that Lou would have gotten revenge with a worse dare.
“Name the person in the room you hate the most and the person you want to fuck, but don’t specify who,” Cal says.
Zeke ponders, taking a sip of their drink. “Lou,” they answer. The air is tense with silence while we wait for them to name a second person and they don’t.
Lou sputters on his Manhattan and I stifle a laugh, but the game moves on. I imagine them hatefucking later on the couch, aggressively tugging at each other and mocking each other, and I realize I’m getting distracted. I clear my throat.
“Charlie, your turn,” Parker announces in his deep voice.
“Dare,” I say, feeling more bold this time.
“Pick the sexiest thing on your phone and show it to us,” Cal dares.
I remember back to my most recent binge of sexting with an out of town cutie from Lex. One of my favorite things was to audio record myself masturbating and send her my orgasms.
I pull up an audio recording of me fucking myself: “Oh, fuck, fuck me, Daddy, fuck my pussy, Daddy, fuuuuck,” I moan. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, oh, oh, oh, oh fuck, oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, I’m cumming, ohhhhh…”
Everyone is staring at me as the audio trails off to little “oh”s and “mm”s. Honestly, I’m not above admitting that my moans turn me on. They’re kind of hot, and I’m remembering that particularly good orgasm I gave myself. I’m throbbing now, and my mouth is dry. I’m looking around the room and wondering if everyone else is feeling the same way.
“Jesus Christ,” Parker says. I smile. I can’t help it.
It’s Max’s turn. Fuck, they look so good dressed as Spike. “Dare,” they say.
“Make Charlie moan,” Parker practically growls. Crap.
Max comes up behind me on the couch, making sure everyone still has a good view of me as they run their hands down my chest, leaning down to kiss my neck. I whimper. They squeeze and tease my tits through my shirt and I breathe hard. Clearly looking for a louder response, they rub my cunt through my jeans. I moan. “Oh,” I say, surprised, turned on. “Oh. Oh. Oh fuck, Max. Max. Fuck. Please. Fuck.”
“Fuck,” Parker curses, clenching his hairy fists.
Max kisses and sucks on my neck, leaving a hickey, while they rub at my cunt and I curse and moan for them. “Fuck me, Max,” I blurt out, illegal bahis unintentionally. Shit.
“Oh, fuck,” they murmur in my ear. “You wanna get fucked, baby?”
Oh, God. “Fuck. I mean. Fuck. Shit. Yes. Max. Fuck me.”
“What do you think, fellas?” Max asks. “Should we fuck her?” I’m so wet, and my cunt is clenching at the thought of getting fucked by anyone and everyone.
“Oh yes,” Parker agrees, looking at me with a mix of desire and possession, like all he wants is to take me right now.
“Fuck,” Zeke says.
“Holy shit,” Lou pants.
Cal is staring at me in lust, stroking her crotch like she’s packing something… again. I could cream myself in my jeans right there.
Everyone gets up to come closer to me and Max pins me to the couch by the shoulders. They crowd around, reaching out to touch my body and start undressing me. I’m desperately turned on, not knowing who to look at while everyone crowds closer, feeling helpless in the hottest way.
Someone calls me cowboy and I curse, “Fuck.” My hat is pulled off. My snap off buttons are easily unsnapping, my shirt is ripped open by Parker. I look at him in shock as his thick, rough hands come up to caress my soft chest.
My boots are being pulled off and soon I’m face down on the couch and the assless chaps are being tugged off, followed by my jeans. I’m in front of all my friends in my boxers and I’m throbbing and wet, so ready to be fucked by their fingers and tongues and cocks.
“Do you want these off, Charlie?” Parker asks, and it’s driving me wild that he’s taking the lead on fucking me.
“Yes,” I pant, trying to breathe. Then I’m naked, again. All my friends’ eyes on me, again.
“Your safe word is ‘red,'” Parker says. “Yellow and green. You familiar?”
I nod, eagerly, sitting back down. I feel naked and exposed, but safe. I’m pinned again by Max, and my friends slip the cowboy boots back on me, put the cowboy hat back on my head, leaving the red bandana wrapped around my neck.
“Are you ready to ride us, cowboy?” Cal asks me, stroking her packer through her light blue Freddie Mercury jeans. I feel my wet pussy dripping, I’m so turned on by being dressed back up in half of my costume and called cowboy.
“Jesus Christ,” I whimper. “Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Cal sits down in the chair across from me and pulls her packer out of her jeans, the same teal curved piece that fucked me so well at the last party, that got me calling her Daddy. Fuck. My cunt is ready for her cock.
Someone pulls out lube and tosses it to her, and I realize that this was planned for. They expected to fuck me tonight, and brought supplies. Cal drizzles the lube down her cock and I watch it, mesmerized. She strokes herself and my mouth goes dry.
“Come on, cowboy. Show me how well you ride,” she invites. My pussy clenches.
Max releases me from their hold, inviting me to go over to Cal. I do, climbing slowly into her lap, watching her cock with careful anticipation. Her tits look delicious under her tight white tank top, and I’m distracted looking down at them. She’s half undressed, her light blue jeans and studded black belt half undone with her cock sticking out. I lower myself to her, running the tip of the strap along my slit and whimpering. I sink myself onto her cock, moaning with abandon as she fills me. I’ve thought about this feeling every day for weeks since the party, the feeling of her delicious cock filling my pussy. Finally feeling it again, I let my pleasure out in loud moans.
“Fuck, Cal, fuck, your cock feels so fucking good in my pussy,” I grunt out while I ride her.
“Fuck yes,” she says, gripping my hips while I ride her. “Fuck yourself on my cock, cowboy.”
God, “cowboy” is really doing it for me tonight. I’m already close to cumming, desperate for it.
“Please, Cal, fuck. Fuck,” I start to stutter. “Please can I cum. Please, please can I cum on your big butch cock,” I pant.
“Yes,” she grunts, gripping my hips harder and fucking up into me, clearly getting some pleasure herself out of fucking me in front of all our costumed friends.
I hold my cowboy hat steady and grind harder onto her cock, let my clit get friction, and I cum while she fucks into me, yelling, “Yes! Yes! Yes!” as the shocks of pleasure rush through me, sparking and pulsing. “Fuck,” I groan, spent. I feel hot with everyone’s eyes on me.
“Jesus,” Lou mutters.
“Holy shit,” Max agrees.
“That was hot,” Cal praises. I kiss her hard, reaching a hand into her long blonde hair to grip onto.
When we finish kissing, I look around the room, blushing. I lock eyes with Parker, who’s rubbing a bulge in his pants. I swallow, looking down. He smiles at me, beckoning me over with two hairy, curled fingers.
I obey, standing and walking to him. He motions for me to get on my knees and my mouth goes dry, understanding. I do. I reach for his button on his jeans, his zipper. I pull out a hard black silicone piece from his pants, and I swallow.
Parker brings his hand to my chin, lifting my eyes to his. He’s wearing fake sideburns and thick eyebrows for his werewolf costume, emphasizing his handsome features. “Suck my cock, Charlie,” he says. I nod obediently. He takes my hat off and puts it on himself, saying, “I want to see you sucking me off, boy.”
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