23. Sundown
Chapter twenty-three
Sundown
(Dante)
Idon’t know how it goes from a normal wedding reception to a sex party, but the change is sudden. As soon as darkness ascends outside, the music’s volume goes up and the inhibitions down.
The lights have been dimmed, and the entire vibe is different now, increasingly relaxed by a free-for-all alcohol selection and platters of designer drugs floating around.
Oh god, I really need a release.
My dick has already been painfully hard so many times today.
Danica always has that effect on me, Alessio too.
But it wasn’t just their proximity that sent my blood rushing to my groin.
No, it was the mere thought of tonight’s pleasure menu, the scene that’s been unfolding since we arrived at this house with the sandy walls and out-of-place palm trees in the driveway.
Tonight will be an amalgamation of Danica and my fantasies, a hedonistic buffet brought to life by Alessio and a selection of willing (consenting) play partners.
At first, I wasn’t sure how to voice my desires, but many (many) conversations later, we found the perfect way to celebrate our union.
It was Danica’s idea to invite Adira and Rani. I didn’t think they would accept. I know Rani could be quite uptight sometimes. We go way back, once even dueled over the same woman. Rani won, of course. I am no match for her.
Suddenly, the music cuts.
“Friends, lovers, and lovers-to-be, welcome.” It is Alessio’s voice, flowing from the overhead speakers like a Lord beckoning us to him in the lobby where he towers seven marble steps above us.
Like zombies drawn to fresh meat, we move toward him, Danica’s warm hand wrapped in mine. I keep looking at her, at that insanely beautiful face, those playful eyes, and I can’t believe she’s mine, on paper too—Missus Fera.
“I call our newlyweds to the front; it’s time to cut the cake,” Alessio announces, and Danica drags me with her through the crowd of applauding strangers who are slowly becoming familiars…
It is a mix of people so unique that they look like they could only have met on the internet. Such beautiful people, so kind, so sexual. Alessio sure did collect a certain kind of magical creature. Only he could.
I completely forgot about the cake-cutting and all the attention is quite overwhelming as Danica takes the giant sword to the tiered cake. The image is absurd, and I can’t help but laugh; it’s perfect. Of course, my Queen would forego a basic knife and bring out an actual sword.
Danica messily cuts the cake, and I join the others in a cheer—despite the mouthful of rich chocolate cake my wife stuffs in my face with a triumphant laugh.
She kisses me deeply, stealing a bite of chocolate from my mouth before I can swallow it all down. And then she licks the icing from my chin in a way that makes every hair on my body stand to attention.
Fuck, I’m so horny.
“Well, before this goes any further...” Alessio picks up the mic again.
“Because I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s noticed the groom’s raging erection,” he teases, sending laughter through the room as my cheeks flush in humiliation.
We both know I love it. Danica knows too.
She pats my crotch like I’m just a silly puppy as everyone cheers. Down, Sonja!
“My darlings, I cannot tell you how happy I am to celebrate the union of these two incredible humans—finally.” People laugh knowingly, us included, and Alessio pauses a perfect length of time before continuing.
“Dante, my love, after all those years. The fact that we finally found one another can only be serendipitous. And the fact that you found Danica, well, that was serendipitous and oh-so fortuitous. You better look after her.”
Danica firms her hand in mine, resting her head against my shoulder as we listen to Alessio’s speech on love and lust, on the beauty of bodies and consent, the nature of boundaries and communication.
It’s a poetic journey that warms my heart and raises my cock at the same time.
Such a fucking charming man—always so smooth, so eloquent.
“A toast, my gorgeous friends. To Danica and Dante, our guests of honor,” he concludes, “Let's show them a good time.” Alessio raises his glass, and out of nowhere, flutes of champagne appear on floating trays. “Let’s feast!”
He’s definitely not talking about actual food.
Everyone knows that.
Why am I so nervous?
I bring Danica’s fingers to my lips, kissing them gently as I watch the bodies around us move.
Even the staff have gotten the memo, it seems.
The waiters are no longer in uniform, no, they’re wearing only thongs—regardless of what genitals they’ve been assigned or chosen, chests exposed in the cool evening breeze.
Grabbing two flutes from a tray, I fall into Danica’s dark eyes as we bring our glasses together, chasing my drink with a sparkling kiss afterward.
Alessio snaps his fingers in a single command in the direction of the person in charge of the sound, the guy who’s been watching like a hawk, waiting for that one signal.
The music comes back on. Louder than before. The beat more urgent. More sensual.
It’s time!
Danica holds my forehead against hers with both hands as people around us start to make out and grind against each other in the pulsing beat raining down from above. I have my arm around her, and we slowly sway, my erection trapped between us, her voice warm on my skin.
“Are you ready for our banquet, my darling husband?” Danica whispers, and a chill runs through me like lightning. My cock jumps. Fucking Sonja.
“I’m ready.” I think.
Danica kisses the corners of my eyes, my nose, before leaning into my ear: “Let’s go make some friends, Tesoro.” She pronounces the Italian word flawlessly.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
Danica holds me close as the song finishes, every friction of her moving body making my cock ache even more.
“May I have this dance?” Adira interrupts, and I hand over my bride with a kiss to them both.
Alessio doesn’t let the opportunity pass him by, grabbing my hand as soon as my wife lets me go and forcing me to dance with him. The one time he knows I can’t say no. Not at my own wedding. “Aha, now you’re mine.”
“You know I hate dancing,” I say with fake grumpiness as I let myself be steered through the bodies in various stages of undress.
This feels like a wet dream and I still can’t believe it’s actually happening—only with a wife, a Domme, a Queen, like Danica.
But we didn’t plan this alone, or out of the blue, oh no, Alessio has been tempting us with the pleasures of his companions for a long time now.
I was hesitant before. But now I’m ready.
“Well, if you don’t want to dance, let’s go mingle then.” And just like that, Alessio drops out of tune with the music, leading me to the bar on the veranda instead.
I’m relieved to be excused from the dancefloor. The fresh air is a welcome change too.
“Two whiskeys,” he orders.
“Make that four.”
I turn around to two identical images of pure health.
“Ah, my babies.” Alessio kisses each twin in turn, with open mouths and tongues, before turning to me. “Meet the man of the hour, Dante.” No surname. No title. Just Dante. It feels good. Freeing.
“We’ve heard so much about you,” the one says. I don’t know which one; they look the same to me with their blonde fringes and beefy muscles poking out of identical neon green crop tops.
Scanning them, I can’t help but run my eyes over their fit physique. Oh, to be that young again.
“This is Ciaran. This is Jo,” Alessio adds without giving any indication of who is who, leaving the smiling boys almost interchangeable.
“Nice to meet you,” I say almost formally.
“Thank you for coming to my wedding?” We laugh awkwardly.
It is quite a bizarre situation if you think about it—our rent-a-crowd cum rent-an-orgy.
But they are so much more than that; they are Alessio’s people, and I have every faith in this sensual Joker’s taste in humans.
We take our whiskeys and toast to my big day, the space between the twins and us diminishing with every sip until Cieran-or-Jo looks at Alessio and me through hooded eyes and says: “If you’d follow us upstairs, we can give you your gifts.”
I want to protest that we said no gifts, but one look at the grin on Alessio’s face makes me realize that that wasn’t the gifts these two boys had in mind, oh no.
And so it begins…