The Party

Norman had made the reservation at Nobu at Celeste’s specific request even though he had grown tired of its fusion food. It just didn’t excite him anymore. In fact, little excited him now days, not even his latest addition to his supercar collection; the coveted McLaren F1. He had booked Celeste for a whole night after having watched a couple of her movies on the net and even subscribing to her OF page. He just had to meet this tall, young, blonde woman with radiant blue eyes, legs that seemed to go on and on, and teardrop shaped breasts. When Celeste turned up in a yellow tube dress, short bob platinum blonde hair and five-inch heels, he felt this sinking feeling in his stomach.

“This is not going to be one of those dinner conversations where you bore me to death with how much money you have, is it?”

“No,” Norman replied. Her straightforward fashion caught him off guard but for some odd reason also put him at ease. He appreciated her candid, no bull shit, attitude.

“Open up. What are you thinking right now? At this very second?” Celeste dared him.

“Your movies, best jack off material ever,” Norman whispered.  Celeste laughed discretely and smiled.

“Which one is your favourite?” she wanted to know.

“There are so many. When did you quit the business?”

“You really want to know why, don’t you?”

“I don’t want to pry into your personal affairs.”

“At 1000 dollars an hour you can ask me anything darling. I don’t mind. Really. I am not ashamed of my career in the porn industry.”

“And you shouldn’t be.”

“Money. I get five-figure checks now and the compliments and attention are much more sincere. Besides, the porn industry has changed a lot. There is no shortage of star-struck girls willing to perform outside their comfort zone to become the next Tera Patrick or Jenna Jameson. The competition is ridiculous. It’s just not worth it anymore.”

“What’s your most memorable scene, and have you ever fallen in love with anyone on set?” Norman asked.

“Easy. I did a threesome with Mary Cummings and Tom Everhard. We had exceptional chemistry, and I literally came three times, including an anal orgasm.”

“It’s on Pornhub,” Norman managed to slip in.

“Best fuck ever, and Tom is the nicest guy in the business. Such a gentleman, good looking and a great lover. And his cock, my god, it’s a piece of art. Love him, yes, but not in love with him.”

“Do you miss it?”

“No. The industry has become a kinky fantasy world of easy money, but the real price only becomes apparent once you turn your back on the industry in search of a fresh start. You can’t feasibly put porn star on your resume, and thanks to the age of Google, anyone can dig up your past in a matter of seconds. Don’t get me wrong. I knew what I was getting in to and enjoyed it immensely. I remember the first time I sat in a make-up chair at the studio. The vanity lights warmed my skin and gave me a natural glow. Sitting in that chair, naked underneath the pink fluffy robe, I felt that I was finally living the American dream.”

“The list of train wreck porn stars with a failed exit strategy is unusually long. You seem to have managed quite okay.”

“Tell you a little secret. You can survive this business if you see your mind as containing the essence of the real you. Your body… is just a shell. Enough about me. I want to know about Norman if that’s your real name or course.”

“Norman Westinghouse.”

“Married? Kids?”

“Married. Five kids; three girls and two boys. Three of them with my ex-wife.”

“I guess it’s not a happy marriage since you’re here having dinner with me.”

“We share the same address and that’s about it.”

“Why not get a divorce? Do you still love her?”

“I don’t feel anything for her, and neither of us are confrontational so a divorce never came up. She does her thing, and I do my thing and every Christmas we take a family photo which we send to friends and relatives.”

“Modern family.”

“Post-postmodern,” Norman interjected.

“Once upon a time you must have loved her! Or?”

“I did.”

“What happened?”

“We effectively defeated love.”

“Defeated! Love is not your enemy. Love is the reason for being.”

“Somewhere along the way, love became an obstacle to living the life I wanted to live.”

“And what is that?”

“Adventure, passion, surprises which are not necessarily giftwrapped.”

“You seem like a proper gentleman Norman. Next week, I’m flying out to Germany, Munich for a party which I think is right up your alley. I’ll be performing.”

“What kind of party?”

“A party for the giga rich.”

Beatrice was standing in front of the mirror setting her hair and adjusting her skirt when Norman told her that he was taking the private jet to Germany for a business meeting and would be back soon. She merely raised and dropped her shoulders and then wished Norman a safe journey. For a fleeting second, he entertained the idea of letting the cat out of the bag just to force a reaction from her: “Hey hon, I’m taking the jet to Germany with a pornstar to attend a party in Germany.” Anything than indifference.

Once inside the castle which looked like something straight from a Lord Of The Rings movie, Norman experienced an aggressive sensory overload brought on by the lavish renaissance paintings centered around knights, kings and poets, sparkling crystal chandeliers, baroque furniture, and murals which told the tale of the Holy Grail. In the throne hall around fifty people, men and women, dressed in everything from latex suits, Tom Ford haute couture to birthday suits mingled with cocktails in their hands. Naked little people walking around with horse tail butt plugs and silver trays on their heads ferried cocktails, finger food and lines of coke to the guests. Grace Jones’ Slave To The Rhythm was playing in the background.

To the left of the throne hall, there was a silver metallic merry-go-around. On the platform, there were eight extreme fit young women, all in doggy style position. Their asses pointed out towards the guests, and they all had an aluminum cylinder tank inserted in their vagina. Only the dispensing tap stuck out. The content of the cylinders was written across their butt cheeks in a black gothic font. Norman made his way to the platform through the crowd of men and women dressed in exclusive haute couture. A young man with a blonde pixie haircut, in a monkey suit, and designer glasses, was leaning over an Ipad stand which controlled the merry-go-around. He pressed a key on the iPad which said Suntory Hibiki 30. The young man turned to Norman and smiled like the Grinch. Like he had stolen what was left of the women’s dignity.

“What do you think? Cool huh?”

“Where can I get one?” Norman replied and wondered whether his sarcasm bit hard enough.

“Let’s live a little shall we,” the young man said and handed Norman a glass. “Here’s to a marvelous evening.”

“To a marvelous evening,” Norman repeated and raised his glass.

Norman finished the whiskey in one gulp. The smooth burn unleashed an explosion of exotic flavors and a wave of warmth washed over him from head to toe. Norman was close to breaking a sweat without moving a muscle. A woman dressed in a black leather mini dress revealing an hourglass figure approached Norman. She had blonde hair pinned through the sides and swept to the middle at the back and green eyes.
“A new face. How exciting. Are you new or old money?”

“Old money,” Norman replied.

“You carry your wealth just nicely. There’s nothing obnoxious or pretentious about you.”

“Thank you.”

“Let me see your cock.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be shy. Come on. Whip it out. Anything under seven inches, I have no interest in. You see Roberto over there dressed like Mussolini. Nine inches.”
“Okay,” Norman said and unzipped. His cock came out oscillating from side to side. She grabbed it and gave it a little squeeze. Enough for Norman to feel the blood pumping harder.

“Decent size. Feels good in my hand. I’d loved to have it up my pussy.”

She squatted holding on to Norman’s cock and slowly deep throated him. Norman closed his eyes and gasped loudly.

“Tastes good too,” she commented getting up, and proceeded to smack her lips

“And you are?” Norman wants to know zipping up.

“The Queen.”

“Is there a king?”

“The king is dead.”

The music stopped and the light dimmed. A little chubby man wearing nothing but a black leather loincloth, white bug eye sunglasses, and a horrible comb over appeared on a balcony above the hall. He was glistening, literally glistening like he was soaked in oil. Behind him, were two young men straight from a Dolce and Gabbana ad: naked, tall, chiseled physiques, washboard abs, thick black messy hair and blue eyes. One wore a pink neck collar with a leash, and the other a purple. Chubby held a mic close to his lips but didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. He just stared at the guests, and they stared back at him like they were in the process of establishing a telepathic link.

“Welcome,” the chubby man finally said. His voice sounded breathy, like he had chest congestion, “we are gathered here, tonight… to celebrate the higher man… woman… the supreme being. To reach… a state of deification because… that… is… who… we… are. Gods. Enjoy.”

All the guests formed a circle while Madonna singing about feeling like a virgin could be heard from the loudspeakers. Celeste dressed in a mesh black cat suit wearing a pair of stilettos danced her way to the center of the circle. Norman picked up the sound of hoof beats clicking on the ground.  A dark towering figure with red eyes and horns, muscled its way through the guests who stepped sideways. Norman was dumbstruck.  Before him stood a guy in a satyr costume, complete with hooves and a black mask with goat horns. He strutted around Celeste with his monster cock erected at 45 degrees curved upwards.  Well over six feet tall and with a bulked-up body painted in ruby red, he was the very fabric male sexual energy.

The satyr slapped Celeste with the back of his right hand which sent her diving to the floor. She remained motionless for a few seconds on her stomach before she rolled over and looked at the satyr and his gigantic cock. The satyr grabbed Celeste by her waist with both hands from behind and lifted her up into a standing wheelbarrow position. Then he carefully took aim and rammed his cock inside her pussy which swallowed it whole. A deep-throated loud growl filled the room. Norman’s body hair stood up on end. Celeste gasped for air and struggled to moan between breaths. Her face transpired pain, but there was also pleasure and unadulterated lust. The satyr slapped her ass violently leaving clearly visible marks on her buttocks. The satyr then forced Celeste on her knees and made her swallow his cock. And when he was about to come, Celeste opened her mouth wide, and he squirted thick cum down inside her throat. Norman dropped on his knees, leaned forwards, gagged a few times before he emptied his butter chicken on the floor. Then he keeled over to the left with his eyes closed.

“Happens every fucking time with the new guys. Ruined a perfectly excellent show,” an older gentleman dressed in tweed commented.

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