Date: Thu, 18 Mar 2010 18:20:30 -0700
From: ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com
Subject: Secret Admirer: Chapter 5, Blackout

Hey guys! Sorry for the delay! I'm actually beginning work on another story
while I'm doing this one. I'll let you know the details about that one when
I really get started on it. I hope you're enjoying the story so far! You
know the drill: any similarities to real events or people are
coincidental. This story has graphic sexual content, so minors beware!
Happy reading, and the next one is on its way!

Secret Admirer: Chapter 5, Blackout

	The game had ended with our home team delivering a crushing victory
to the opposition. So, of course, a giant party was in order. Cynthia and I
decided to go over to her place and get ready before meeting up with Amy
and her sister Jennifer at the party. It was being held at Darren
Priestley's parents' house, a three-story castle resting at the foot of the
mountains. Darren was a good friend of ours and threw amazing parties, so
naturally we were excited.
	"Oh my God, what am I going to wear? Jay, help me!" Cynthia pulled
me over to her giant walk-in closet and placed me in front of the winter
section (yes, she separates by season). I bit my lip and tilted my head,
perusing the options.
	"Well, we just won the game, so I think you should go for warm and
flirty. How about..." I reached for a French vanilla Gap sparkly sweater
dress, and then grabbed a black Worthington Tuxedo Blazer. "Okay, put this
on and I'll grab some accessories." I came back with black wool leg
warmers, a black sash-style obi belt, a black pearl necklace, and
cream-colored stilettos.
	Cynthia examined the finished look in her full-length mirror,
gasping as she vogued dramatically at herself. "I love this! Every girl
needs one of you in her back pocket, Jay!" I laughed, and stood next to her
to take a look at my own ensemble. Dark wash Buckle jeans, a white
pleated-front button-down, a D&G velvet-trim vest, a slim black tie, and
black Stacy Adams slip-on dress shoes with silver buckles.
	"Perfect. I think we're ready...what do you think, Cynth?"
	"You know what I always say," Cynthia said as she grabbed her black
Guess by Marciano Sandra Frame clutch, "if you don't get laid tonight, it's
a waste of a perfectly amazing outfit!" We laughed as we left her house and
headed to the party.
	Darren Priestley's house was nestled in the woods about thirty
minutes from the university and a mile north of Pine Peak Bar, which his
parents owned along with a national chain of high-end restaurants, sports
good stores, and a couple local ski resorts. Put simply, Darren's family
was filthy rich.
	Cynthia and I drove up the mile and half-long driveway, but could
only manage to make it halfway; the sides of the driveway the rest of the
way were packed with cars. We could hear the pulsing, floor-shaking beat of
50 Cent's "Candy Shop" even from where we parked. Cynthia started to break
it down as more cars approached and honked in appreciation. I laughed and
grabbed her hand, dragging her towards the Priestley mansion. Following
`This Way' signs and walking through a special back door, we found
ourselves pushing our way through crowds of talking and/or dancing people
into a sprawling dancehall, where mainstream dance hits blasted from
towering surround sound speakers. A sea of university students filled the
space.
	Cynthia and I joined her boyfriend Rick, Amy, and Jennifer on the
dance floor in a less jam-packed corner of the hall. We all chatted for a
few minutes, catching up about the game and how cool the party was while
getting buzzed. It didn't take long for the music to infect every part of
my body until Cynthia and I were twisting and popping on the dance floor
into a gyrating storm of movement—we had this down to an art. As we
grinded on the floor with our plastic cups full of jungle juice, I felt
someone come up behind me, their body conforming to mine as the beat pushed
our bodies down to the floor. Two strong hands caressed their way across my
hips and across my crotch to give my semi-hard dick a light squeeze. I
rolled my body to the side, leaning down to get a look at the person
comfortable enough to feel up random strangers at a party.
	Tommy grinned down at me, moving a hand to my back and pulling me
up and around so we were now face-to-face. His eyes sparkled in the erratic
flashing of the disco light show above us as his lips lightly grazed
mine. Cynthia had drifted off with her boyfriend, and it was just the two
of us dancing against each other in the corner. Tommy whispered softly
against my mouth, his hot breath making me dizzy with lust.
	"I want to be inside of you." He gave my ass a firm squeeze before
grabbing my hand and pulling me toward the house. Once inside, we couldn't
keep our hands off each other as our mouths met in one of the dark hallways
of the east wing. The sounds of the music faded into a distant buzz as heat
rushed into my feverish lips. His hips bucked against mine as he pressed me
into the wall, his hands trapping mine above my head. His hot mouth sucked
the skin of my neck, and his long tongue drew circles across my jaw. My
whisper was rough and stuttered.
	"Fuck, your mouth feels so good. I..." I could barely speak as his
hot lips crushed against mine. My hand found a doorknob next to me as he
searched his pockets for a condom. Suddenly, he stopped.
	"Shit, I think I left my condoms in the car."
	I searched my pockets, and came up with nothing. "Fuck, me too."
	Tommy opened the door to the room, which was pitch-black inside
with only a large bed and a side table. "Perfect. Wait here—I'll be back
in like two seconds." Before I could say anything, he rushed out and shut
the door behind him.
	Blackout. It was so dark in the room I couldn't even see my hand in
front of my face. I kicked off my shoes and waited for about a minute,
hoping my eyes would adjust. No luck. I carefully lied back on the bed and
stared at wherever the ceiling was supposed to be, thinking about nothing
in particular. My hard-on was starting to hurt as it shoved brutally
against the crotch of my jeans, so I unbuckled them and released my
throbbing cock. It had been about two weeks since my limp went away from
Tommy's last assault on my ass. I breathed deep and blanked my mind again
so I wouldn't cum just from thinking about it.
	Then in what could be described as the blink of an eye, the door
opened then closed. I propped myself up on my elbows, and looked towards
where the door was supposed to be. I couldn't help but smile at how erotic
this was—I couldn't see Tommy, but every other sense was coming alive;
Tommy's breathing was rough and intense as I heard his belt buckle clink as
his jeans dropped to the floor. The bed sank near my legs, and a hand found
my leg and caressed up it. I bit my lip as the hand found my leaking cock
and stroked it softly, rubbing the precum around the head with a thumb. His
warm, slick lips closed around my pulsating dick, massaging the head with
his tongue. I noticed, as my head tilted back and I moaned, that Tommy's
technique had improved. The light flicking of his tongue against the
underside of my cock set my nerves on fire, causing me to draw up my legs
and clench the comforter with my hands.
	"Ohhh...that feels so good..."
	My dick slipped out of his lips with an audible pop, and I could
feel his smile in the darkness as he unbuttoned my vest and loosened my
tie. Then he did something new—he massaged his lips into mine, licking
my bottom lip and then biting it softly, and before I could even wonder at
the strange, incredible new taste of his mouth, he flipped my shirt over my
face and trapped my hands over my head with one hand. Using his other hand,
he pulled my jeans off and spread my legs. There was an element of fear as
the surprise caused my breath to quicken—but as unfamiliar as the style
was, he was turning me on more than ever.
	My dick was so hard as he rubbed his long, thick cock against mine,
using both our precum to stroke them together with a wet, warm hand. It
felt so good I was shaking, and not being able to see made the sensation
radiate through my body, making my toes curl in expectation. I heard him
spit in between rough breaths and felt his finger rub the saliva onto my
dilating hole. Then he slowly pushed his slick, dripping cock into my
ass. I groaned, trying to relax as his dick stretched me open—I heard
his deep, guttural moan as he slid it slowly back out, then pushed it deep
inside again. He started to pick up the pace as one hand tightened around
my wrist and the other jacked my cock with tight, twisting strokes.
	"Oh shit! That feels so fucking good! Ohhh...fuck me..." I felt
light-headed from having the shirt over my face, but the sensation combined
with the rhythmic pounding of his hard, wet cock deep in my ass sent me
into a frenzy. I gyrated my hips against his thrusting, making his deep
groans get louder. He cranked up the speed again, the raw sound of slapping
skin filling the darkness of the room. His spit-soaked hand pumped up and
down on my painfully hard dick, then he released my hands and lifted my ass
up off the bed, hammering my tight ass so hard that I heard the wooden bed
frame crack. Finally, like an explosion out of the head of my dick, cum
spewed all over my abs and chest. I couldn't speak, could barely breathe,
as my shook from the force of it. A long, stuttered moan of bliss escaped
his lips as he pulled his cock out of my ass and shot a huge load all over
my stomach.
	"Fuuuuuck...holy shit, that ass was so good..." He collapsed on top
me, lightly rubbing cum into my skin. Then I felt his head come up quickly
like something was wrong.
	I stroked his hair, and thought for the briefest moment if he had
finally gotten a better shampoo. "What's wrong?"
	I felt his body lift quickly, as he got off the bed. I sat up and
sighed, confused as I heard his belt buckle clink again as he began to
dress himself. I started to speak, but the door opened and closed before I
could make a sound.
	I sat in the dark, not angry or embarrassed but curious. Tommy had
a habit of leaving immediately after sex, so that didn't surprise me. What
did strike me as odd was that, this time, he didn't even say a word when he
did it. Usually he had some reason (or excuse depending on how you want to
look at it) for why he needed to go, so it was weird for him to just up and
leave without so much as an explanation. I lied back, and stared again at
the darkness that was the ceiling. What freaked me out more, I then
realized, was that voice of warning resurfacing in my head, shouting its
muffled words as if to remind me that something was terribly wrong.