It was a stifling tail pipe of a party – hundreds of people, none of them interesting. I felt suffocated by the throbbing mass of insipid dotes filling the house from wall to wall, floor to ceiling. I needed to escape.

I managed to bounce, bump and bungle my way out to the front porch, which was equally overcrowded with teeming throngs of drunkards. Finally I found my way down the steps that granted freedom to the open space of the front lawn.

Stumbling out onto the grass, drink still in hand, I sighed a deep breath of relief and exclaimed, “Oh thank God,” not really realizing anyone else was paying me any attention. Another refugee, however, had noticed my escape and sympathized.

“It’s a bit much in there, huh?” he asked dryly through terse lips, gleaming at me with those deep brown eyes under his shaggy, dark bangs swept across his forehead.

“It is that,” I replied, moving toward him like a ship caught in a current. I was involuntarily drawn to this guy. He was likely my only hope for having a good time at this otherwise inordinately stale affair. “You don’t seem the type for this sort of thing.”

“Nor you.” He gave me pause. “I came with a friend. He’s… in there… somewhere.” He gestured, lifting his cup to point toward the three story home behind us, which was abuzz with the echoing sounds of music, laughter, and mingling conversation.

“Same here,” I confessed. I was still stewing silently at Ralph and Peter for dragging me along to engage in this madness.

“I say we ditch.” My knight in shining armor he was, indeed.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

We chose his place. It was closer. He had Pinot on hand. We never asked each other his name.

His apartment was quaint, a minimalist style with an earthy feel. I paid little attention to the decorum. I was more interested in getting his cock in my mouth. I’ve always known I was a horny drunk. The four cups of keg beer I’d had at the party combined with the glass of Noir I was drinking now, was more than enough to send me over the edge. Evidently my companion felt similarly, as he was now rubbing my thigh vigorously while sipping from his stemware, clutched pleasantly by a bird-like free hand.

He was frail and pale – just the way I liked them. And I figured his prick would be long and slim – also just the way I liked them. His lips tasted of alchohol and strawberries – likely a result of the flavored lip balm I’d seen him applying liberally during our walk home. He knew this was coming, and had prepared himself for it.

His thin hands were surprisingly strong, sliding along my flesh, removing my sweater, my undershirt; unbuckling my belt, inching down my pants.

I had my fingers under his shirt, tracing his abs, tickling his nipples, groping his thin, lean chest. We maintained our series of furious kisses as he freed my raging hard cock from my trousers, and I did the same for his. My suspicions were proven correct, and in an instant I broke our kiss to descend upon his long, thin prick.

As I huddle down over him on the sofa, he reached across my back and curled his fingers down the crack of my ass. I felt his middle