“Must have cost a fortune.”
“Matteo can afford it.”
That was certainly true.
Men were congregating at the far end of the room, and we moved closer to see what had captured their attention. It was a life-sized bronze sculpture of a Grecian athlete in repose. The only thing upright on the figure was his well-endowed and fully erect phallus. It appeared to have been coated in some viscous fluid, which was good because a young man was attempting to mount the tarnished metal amidst a rabble of enthusiastic encouragement. I watched with incredulity as the thick dowel of burnished bronze disappeared inside the man’s nubile body. The crowd quieted as he sat fully in his steed, then slowly, began to rock. His noises were obscene as he pitched and swayed to a growing, feverish mob. Despite being raised in a big city, I suppose I’d been rather sheltered, because I’d never seen anything like it.
“He’s going to be popular tonight,” Franco said, suddenly at my side. Liam’s mouth was gaping, and his normally pale cheeks were flush with color.
“I don’t know who I envy more,” Liam said.
“Do you think he’ll be able to climax like that?” I asked. He was certainly making his best attempt.
“It’s not much different from using a dildo,” Franco mused as though he had some experience with fucking anatomically correct sculptures.
Soon enough, the young man grabbed hold of his plump, juicy cock and started jerking it ferociously. He came a few titillating moments later, splashing ejaculate on the pant leg of a well-dressed, older gentleman. Some in the crowd applauded while the gentleman offered his hand to the younger, as though assisting him out of a limousine. The exhibitionist, now red-faced and bashful, accepted his gallantry. He gingerly dismounted and followed the older man to a nearby couch to be coddled. I couldn’t tell if they were lovers or if they’d only just met.
“I feel bad for the statue,” Liam said. His tie was now absent. He must have stuffed it in his pocket. “Trapped in a state of perpetual arousal with a thirst that will never be slaked.”
I sensed Liam was speaking to his own situation.
“You should write a poem about it,” Franco suggested. He made a motion to his tented pants. “I am also feeling inspired.”
I’d fallen into something of a lustful stupor. It was in the air. Sex mingled with sweet cocktails and the scent of overripe blooms. So much young, naked flesh on display, their scant clothing like flower petals hardly concealing the treasures within. Marquis twirled languidly above us, an exotic bird fluttering about its perch. Men coupled in the waning light while the shadows of their movement elongated on the marble floor, arousing and grotesque.
“Would you like to see Matteo’s orchid collection?” Arden asked.
We refreshed our drinks and followed Arden to the West Terrace where I’d met Matteo previously. The sun had set, and the fountain, lit from below, cast an ethereal glow on those nearby. Arden looked lovely in moonlight, as I’d observed him on several occasions, tangled in my bedsheets.
The four of us strolled past groupings lounging on patio furniture or fondling each other amidst the backdrop of the glittering city. The greenhouse was unoccupied save for us. We took a tour of the flowers with Arden pointing out some of the rarer ones. They were artistically showcased with track lighting, and I wondered if that was Arden’s doing as well.
“I’ve never been to this kind of party,” Liam suddenly exclaimed.
“What do you think so far?” Arden asked with a curious tilt to his head.
“I think,” Liam started, then cut himself short before restarting like a sputtering engine. “I think I need to come.” He glanced around at the three of us. The admission was monumental for him.
“Why don’t you take it out?” Arden suggested and slid his own pants down to the tops of his thighs as if that was how they were properly worn. His pretty, pink cock popped out, mostly hard and already glistening at the tip.
“You too, Michael,” he said, and I followed suit. Franco didn’t need any instruction. We were all under Arden’s spell.
“Touch it,” Arden said to Liam while stroking himself. Liam’s eyes were riveted on my lover with determination, as if looking away might break his tenacious hold on his passions. Liam gave a tentative tug on his cock, then cupped the head and drew his hand down to the root.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Arden encouraged, working himself over as he sometimes did in our bedroom, when he wanted to give me a show. I’d been touching myself without realizing it, aroused by what was quickly becoming some kind of gentlemanly circle jerk.
“Suck Michael’s cock,” Franco said to Arden roughly, never one to shy away from leadership opportunity. “Down on your knees.”
Without a word, Arden sunk elegantly to the gravel ground in front of me, a position he favored. He peeled back the folds of my trousers like flower petals and dragged them down far enough to expose me completely. It didn’t even occur to me to protest.
“You’re bigger than I thought,” Liam said, never having had the pleasure of meeting my dick before.
Franco, enterprising as he was, had already nicked some supplies and tossed Liam a packet of lube before taking one for himself.
“Heat Wave,” Liam said, reading the name of his package. “Better not burn.”
Arden was nuzzling my scrotum while my dick bobbed freely. It was an ugly, veined, rapacious thing next to Arden’s elegant beauty.
“Yes, tease him,” Franco said. “Make him beg for it, Arden. Where is Marquis? I want him here right now.”
