My time with Randy, Part 5
An Offer I Couldn't Refuse!
Finally, three weeks after the unforgettable orgy at his apartment, Randy did call me. He asked me to meet him for dinner at Leonardo's. He said he wanted to ask me to a special event, and we could talk about it over a good meal. Randy didn't want to explain over his cell phone. It stimulated my curiosity, and just hearing his deep voice on the phone gave me another charge as well.
But wow, Leonardo's; it was an upscale place. You know: If a car was parked in the restaurant's lot, odds were it was a Lexus, Mercedes, Cadillac, BMW, possibly a Rolls or a sleek sports car. Reservations were a must, and no heart-stopping prices were printed on Leonardo's fancy menu. And Randy volunteered to treat! Still, I knew the appetite I would be bringing to Leonardo's would need much more than just good food and drink..
I met Randy at his apartment, and parked my car in his building's garage. We drove in his big Mercedes to Leonardo's. At the restaurant we chatted in general during our meal.Then later, as we were sipping cappuccino`s, Randy got to the subject of our meeting.
"I'll be attending a special party being thrown by G.T. W----- (a well-known name: not for publishing). And, I need a partner to fill a special role."
"You don't mean G.T. W----, The financier!" .
"That's the one and only," Randy said.
I whistled, impressed, "You DO travel in high circles don't you?"
He just smiled and added in a modest tone, "Well, I've been known to."
I was all questions, and primed to hit him with a series of them. "What kind of role are you talking about?"
"Well first let me say I think you would fit the bill as my partner at the affair. You see G.T. besides being gay is into kink for his kicks. He even refers to himself as a `fetish fag,' and is not embarrassed to admit it.
"With his bucks," I said, "what kind of repercussions would there be in having it known in important places?"
"Sure," Randy answered, "G.T. with his money, influence, and power could probably get away with murder if he wanted to. Anyway, he calls these yearly events his `Midsummer's Night Gala.'
"Almost Shakesperean," I said.
"Good point! G.T. does have a zest for particular types of staged dramas at his galas. He invites friends and associates to them who have, shall we say, unconventional tastes. They're mostly gay male leather fetishists." And he likes to keep them entertained.
So, you're a fetishist?" I asked
"Not really," Randy replied in a sincere tone. "Only at the request of G. T. would I involve myself in something like that. For me, it involves too much forced role playing. That's not really my style."
"What's my role in all this?"
"I want you to be my guest, my partner at G.T.'s affair. He holds the gala at his estate by the shore. He has quite a set-up there. You'd be impressed. A lot of others are invited. Most of the guys you met at my recent party will be there, also playing special roles like you and I would be playing.
A leather affair, I thought. That would be something! Never experienced it, but I`ve read about or saw it practiced in a video. I found it intriquing. "Tell me more," I asked Randy, and began rubbing my crotch under the table cloth--out of the sight, for sure, of everyone around us at Leonardo's.
Randy continued: "I would go dressed up as your master, and you would be my... errr... slave, dressed in costume, or lack of costume as the case might be. It's an all black leather affair. Big Red'll be there, too. In fact, he wanted to ask you to be his accompanying slave for the gala, but from what I saw at the party, the way you dominated him, had him eating out of your hand, I would think you'd make the better master and Red the better slave." We both laughed.
"But I cut Red off at the pass before he could ask you. I told him, prematurely of course, that I had already invited you and you were going with me. I hope my taking that liberty doesn't piss you off?" Randy then asked.
`Liberty hell,' I thought. I had wanted Randy at the party. Big Red was second best. He was a pussy in a delightful behemoth's body. Looking back on my finally fucking him with a strap-on was an unexpected pleasure. I loved doing it and Red wanted it badly. With my dysfunctional dick, the strap-on dildo was the best way I could do it--beats finger fucking. Well at least Red thought so...'
"Lola's going as well." Randy said, interrupting my thoughts. "She usually plays a special part at G.T.`s affairs. You'd find her role interesting."
Hmmm Lola too! "What's she going to do, or be?"
"Come along with us and you'll find out," Randy said.
I thought quietly about it for a few moments. I've never been into fetishism...that is to any extent or form I was aware of. But that depends on what a person's definition of a `fetish' is, I guess? My curiosity was really piqued! My not wanting to offend Randy by refusing was a given. I was totally sold on going. His invitation was an offer I couldn't refuse. Besides, what the hell, I was free that Friday. What else would I be doing that night except patrolling for cock in some park or adult arcade, or at worst being at home struggling to wack off my limp dick in time with action on a gay sex video.
"Okay, I'll do it," I said. "How do I prepare and what do I wear?"
"You don't need to prepare anything. Just show up at my apartment at 7 pm. I'll provide everything you need. Lola will meet us there. We`ll be taking my car to G.T.'s place."
As we drove back to Randy's apartment, I was sitting in the passenger seat next to him. It was a dangerous thing to do to the driver of a moving vehicle. (I recommend against such practice.). But I didn't care at that moment, and reached over and began rubbing Randy's crotch. I kept it up until I could feel his fullness pressing against the fabric of his jeans. Randy would smile at me now and then but kept his attention to his driving. I then took it a step further, and reached over and began to unzip his fly. He didn't tell me to stop. I reached into his opened fly and to my pleasant surprise my hand was met with manly flesh. He wasn't wearing shorts! A quick flip of my hand, and Randy's thick rod was out and standing tall.
Grunting, Randy shifted in his seat, spreading his legs a little farther apart. I knew it would be suicidal to go down on Randy while the car was in motion--or even to jack him him off. If he came while driving, in his moment of orgasmic paralysis he could lose control of the car causing us a horrible accident. I was hoping he would pull over and park in some dark, secluded side street. He didn't. So I simply continued to lightly stroke his erect manhood, keeping it alert and primed, but not so much that it would fire.
We pulled into his space in his apartment's parking lot. He then asked if I would like to come up for a nightcap. I leave you to guess my response to that invitation. Part 6 will cover it...
Ron Slimman Ronslimman@yahoo.com