The cutie, the hottie, and an offer that is too good to be true
 

Long stories aren't usually my thing but if I told this one in short form, I don't think you would believe it was all true. I did consider changing the last part to one of the many endings that I fantasized about, then moving this over to the fiction section. But decided that that the real thing kept me turned on for years so that is the story I want to tell.

This story isn't complete yet so if you don't want to be teased with an opener, check to see that I've posted the rest before you start reading. I'll probably finish it on the weekend (sooner if it seems that someone is actually waiting for it).

THE SCENE
I think I was 19 when this story took place. I got invited to a swanky private party that was held in a hall with fancy decorations, a proper bar, and a tuxedo clad DJ. Picture a wedding scene but take away the the speeches, grandparents, and formalities… and triple the amount of available booze. There was a youngish businessman named Paulo who threw this “customer appreciation” party every year, but no one there ever seemed to be customers, and there was much speculation as to where he got all this money from. But that is unimportant, what matters is that the event became the stuff of legends. It got to the point where the parties could not possibly live up to the expectations, but that didn't stop everyone from trying.

I got my coveted invite because my brother had a modestly good year with his business and he started spending money like he was an oil baron. He started buying the trappings of the rich and liked throwing around money at the bars. On one of these occasions he ran into Paulo and his crew and just seemed to fit right in. As a result he had some influence over the guest list and decided to do me a favor. Having this elite status gave me some instant notoriety among my age group, I had more than one pleading of “Hey man, you gotta get me in!” Now I’m sure this is also what helped me secure a worthy date for the event. Even in the best of times I’ve always been too dumb to realize when a woman is out of my league so I have never shied away from asking out the hottest of the hot. Sure I get way more rejections than dates, but when it works it is worth it. My goal for this particular time felt particularly unobtainable even before I asked. Her name was Sherri and I’m not sure if I was nervous because she was truly as gorgeous as my hormone clouded brain remembered, or if it had more to do with the fact that we went to the same high school and she was a grade older and that un-crossable age barrier seemed to remain even though it was years later. Now I never clued into the fact that it was probably the elite status of the party that caused her to say yes and I tried to hide my surprise my when she instantly agreed. I recalled in retrospect that she led off the conversation with something like “You mean that YOU are invited to Paulo’s?” and she confirmed twice that we were indeed going to Paulo’s during the her acceptance of the date. But none of that mattered I’d be schmoozing with the elite, I’d have an open bar at my disposal and a hot woman on my arm.

part 2: Fitting in (I think there will be 3 or 4 total)
 

FITTING IN
Now I wish I could tell you that I fit right in and that people would give me nods of approval for bringing such a hot date but I was anything but suave. I was mocked for going back to ask that they put some Coke in my 18 year old Scotch so that I could actually choke it down, I had people say to my girl “If you’re tired of playing with boys and want to meet a man then why don’t we…”, and the harder I tried to be cool the dumber I looked. To make matters worse, there was this one guy who seemed to take a lot of comedic pleasure in everything about me, and I ended up in his grasp for quite a while as he told me a very long story that I could not follow in the least. I don’t remember his name but he was a big bald loud-mouth. He had on a nice suit with enough buttons undone to reveal a giant mat of chest hair and a thick gold chain. I would not have guessed him to be that much of a catch among women but his girlfriend was super hot and 10 years younger than him so he must have more going for him than meets the eye. The girlfriend smiled and laughed at various points of his story and I took my cues from her about how to react. The story took so long because he seemed to know everyone in the place. Every time someone would walk by it was always a similar scene “Heeeey! Johnaaaaay! How the hell are ya?” followed by a manly hug. Then he would turn back to me and jump straight back into the story. I would only throw out minor reactions as he spoke “Really?”, “Oh that’s hilarious”, “Hmmm”, “Seriously?” and occasionally he would respond as if I said something significant like “Ya, you know exactly what I am talking about,” then turns to his girl, “this fucker really gets me,” and back to me, “You’re a pretty good shit you know?”. Even though I could not follow the story it was worth sticking around with him because Sherri and I would talk with his girl when he was off greeting someone and I liked standing around being seen with not one, but 2 hotties. She was also very flirty which was good in itself and it also seemed to make Sherri draw a little closer to me. Real nice girl and seemed like the complete opposite of this giant bald man. It was also good because he would often introduce me to people with a glowing review like “You gotta meet this guy, this SOB is hilarious” but I don’t recall ever saying anything that was ever meant to be funny.
So even though my encounter with my new friend seemed to be good for my social status I still wanted to find a way to detach and do other party things. Most notably so make things go well with Sherri. My attempt at an exit was “Well great to meet you but my drink is empty so we’re going to hit up the bar”. This turned out to be absolutely unacceptable and he stared at his own drink in disgust, “Well hell, I’m empty too.” He wasn’t, but after a big swig the last of it quickly disappeared. He turned to his girl as if this was somehow her fault, “Why don’t you ladies fix this little problem while we finish talking” he said as he jingled the remnants of ice in the otherwise empty glass. His eyes were back on me and his glass was extended out to his girl. I thought that she had half a mind to throw it in his face but she didn’t. She grabbed his glass, then my glass then linked arms with Sherri and cheerfully responded “Let’s get our boys a drink.” I locked apologetic eyes with Sherri for a brief moment before she was hauled off.
They did deliver the drinks but then the girls went off dancing and I remained stuck. I heard more stories and met more people. I also learned that in this circle everyone knew my brother as “Bean” (I asked him later and he doesn’t even know where it came from). He was apparently well liked, and advertizing the fact that we were related added to my growing reputation of “Being a good shit” and a “Hilarious SOB”. The only downside of this is that I immediately inherited the nickname “Little Bean”. I was not even sure I liked Bean as a name let alone Little Bean. So I may not have achieved the debonair status that I was looking for, but at least I managed to fit in somewhere. Sure I was more like a mascot or a pet than a peer but at least I was “in”.

Part 3: Shock talk
 

The girls would come and go as would other people, but my new friend and I seemed to be the only constants in this circle of conversation. At one point when the girls were away and only a group of guys remained, he made a toast to my date’s fine ass and congratulated me for landing it. 8 glasses went up “To Little Bean!” This somehow led to a question that started with confusion, morphed into shock and ended with embarrassment. “So, do you have your Brown Star yet?” Instead of admitting that I had no idea what he was talking about I tried to give a vague answer that led them to ask more questions designed to make my answers sound ridiculous. I ended up being the guy on the outside of an inside joke. It turns out that getting your “Brown Star” means having sex with the hole that most resembles a brown star. So even after I admitted that I knew nothing, they did not fill me in. Instead they turned everything I said into a hilarious joke “So how do I get my Brown Star?” The reply, “Oh that’s easy, just ask Katherine if she’ll give you one… I hear she gives them out all the time” followed by uproarious laughter.

The way the next part of the conversation went I would have assumed that I was the only guy on the planet who hadn't anal fisted a group of nymphomaniac midgets. It seemed that everyone had done everything and I was way behind, “You mean that you've never had a threesome? It’s so awesome when 2 chicks <insert unlikely story here>.” Everyone took their turn regaling me with stories of their sexual conquests and as the stories wound to a close I finally took an opportunity to wander away from the group during one of my trips to the john. I got a fresh drink and stated to cruise the room looking for Sherri.

Part 4: Back to my Date
 

I found Sherri and for the next little while things seemed like the average date. We danced, we chatted, we mingled with other people and things were going fine. I was getting a little too drunk to do my best smooth talking but I think she was impressed by the number of people I “knew” there. It turns out that the whole time we were talking to big bald guy she assumed I’d known him from way back, and all my new acquaintances seemed quite chummy right off the bat so it’s easy to see why she might have thought we were all old friends. This illusion seemed to be the best thing I had going for me, so I never bothered to correct her. For the first time I started to wonder if I might get a little action. I started to plan how things might go and was intent on working my date magic. A little later we ended up circling around some guy showing some dance moves and when he was done someone else would step in. Eventually the circle of onlookers stopped dancing and kept the beat by clapping and merely yelled comments to each other about who was the best. I was just wishing I stepped in before the dancing got good. I don’t really have any moves but I was thinking of trying a hand plant that I learned back in the skateboard days. But at this point a one-move-wonder was no longer going to impress. It didn’t matter anyway because I was soon interrupted by my old friend. The big, bald, booming voice hit me from behind “Little Beeeeaan! C’mon, we’re going for a smoke.” as he pulled me away. I was happy to get the privilege of being included in something but I pulled back indicating that I needed to talk to Sherri first. I was giving some sort of unclear explanation that I had an offer to go smoke, but we could still dance, or watch, or she could come with… but I don’t think any of it had sunk in because of the noise and because she was distracted by some girl who was talking in her other ear.. To speed things up the big bald head popped in between us and aimed a comment right at Sherri, “We’re going smoking”. She nodded and seemed to indicate that she would rather stay and watch the dance-off.

Part 5: The Offer
 

We walked quickly through the crowds and tables, only slightly slowed by the need to pat a few backs and shake a few hands while on route. I followed him right to a door leading outside. The whole back wall was glass, as was the door, but it was dark out and I could barely see what we were heading to. He ignored the “emergency only” sign on the door and pushed it open. The cool air and the muffling of sound as the door closed was very refreshing. It was a nice broad patio that would hold a decent sized party all by itself, but we were the only ones out here. As I looked around it was surprising how clearly I could see everything inside because I could barely tell the patio was there when looking from the inside. “So you said we’re smoking… is anyone joining us?” I queried. He held out 2 cigars with some degree of ceremony “No, I only have 2 of these.” There was a heavy emphasis on “these” as if I would recognize them as something special. “Nice!” I said even though had no clue as to what I was looking at. He quickly sensed that I was a rookie as I looked curiously at both ends wondering which side to light. So he took over and educated me on the finer points of cigar cutting and lighting while I leaned back against the balcony railing. After we were both lit, he took a big puff, closed his eyes and let it out slow. “So?” he questioned while opening his eyes.

“It’s so… uh… mellow” I replied, hoping that I picked a good word.

“I see that you’re the kind of guy who likes the finer things. And on that note, you have some catching up to do, you totally got to get on that threesome thing.”

“Oh for sure.” I said as if I just was too busy to have got around to it.

“Yup a couple of women in the bed is really something you have to experience”

“Definitely” I said without pointing out the obvious fact that I did not even have one woman who wanted to sleep me let alone two.

“You know you might find it easier to get it going with another couple… still 2 women in the sack, you just want to make sure you keep your distance so you don’t end up crossing swords with someone… If you know what I’m saying.”
“Ya, that might work, and I definitely hear what you’re saying” I said absently, as I thought how distant these problems are from my current situation.
“So what do you think, should I ask her?”
“Ask… um. What?” I was just vaguely starting to realize that this hypothetical situation might not have been hypothetical.
“Let me arrange to ask Sherri. If it works you come home with Nikki and me, if not you just pretend you have no idea and go home like usual. You can’t lose” He reasoned.
I went on a long rant that probably started with “Are you fucking kidding me?” and covered all the topics from not only have I not slept with Sherri, but I haven’t been intimate in any way, or even kissed her, and that I barely knew her. I also branched out to add that I had only slept with 2 different women total in my first 19 years and doubling that number before the night was done seemed a little beyond my grasp. I then ran into apologies if I implied something as I started to back away.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa” he said in his best attempt to be calming while overtly laughing at me at the same time. He guided me back to the railing and leaned my back against it as he continued “Forget what I said, we’re friends now and I want to help you out. Sure I’ll admit that I like what you brought to the party so I just thought that I’d ask, but we have a more important matter, we have to get you laid” It was still weird, and I wasn’t sure if I could trust him but I couldn’t argue with the stated goal and I started to loosen up again. He might have sensed and said “Good! Question 1, did you stroke it before you came out tonight?” I paused not sure I got the question right. “Masturbate! Did you masturbate before you came here?”
“I… uh… no” I stammered
“What about last night”
“I don’t know. Actually I don’t think so. Is this…” He cut me off.
“Oh dammit, you’re walking around with a loaded gun. Just about no experience, new girl… and a hot one at that, what do you think is going to happen if you do get lucky? You’re bound to pop before you even get it in there. It’s a good thing we didn’t all get in bed together, if you even looked at 2 naked girls at the same time you might have jizzed all over me. You’re going to need to hit the can and go rub one out.”
“You know I don’t think she’s that into me, it might…”
“Do you even want to get laid?”
“Well of course I do.”
“You say that like it’s a matter of fact, but you don’t want to screw 2 women, so why would you want to screw one? Or maybe you don’t like women?”
“Oh no, no no! I definitely like women and I definitely want to screw women. 1 or 2 or whatever, I just don’t think that I am screwing any women tonight”
“You’re going to give up trying because you don’t ‘think’ it will work? If every man thought like you the human race would go extinct in 1 generation.” He looked for a response from me but none came. Then I could see an idea flash across his face so he picked the conversation back up, “What if I were to promise you that you will get laid tonight?”
“But you can’t pr…”
“100% guarantee” he interrupted, “I’ll do that for you and all you have to do for me is encourage your girl to come over to my place for a little fun.” He saw my expression change and immediately jumped in to diffuse me, “Now don’t do off on a big hissy fit again like I’m asking you to pimp out your girl. No one is going to do anything they don’t want to do; I’m just being courteous here. I’ll get Nikki to ask; we’ll have some drinks and see what happens. I just don’t think it will work unless you’re into it too”
“So how does this crazy plan guarantee that Sherri will have sex with me”
“Oh I never promised that”
“Well what happened to ‘100% guarantee’?”
“I guaranteed sex… but not necessarily with Sherri.” Just then the music got louder because someone opened the door and I looked over to see Nikki coming pushing the door open with her cute little butt as she tried to keep her 2 drinks from spilling. Baldy’s back was to the door but I assumed he should have heard the noise change, but he didn’t react he just continued, “You can bone Nikki!” The door shut gently and we were back to the original muffled drone of the bass vibrating through the wall, “and that’s the guarantee”. I was trying to make frantic face gestures to let him know that his girlfriend was coming up right behind him and but he mis-understood “What? You don’t want Nikki? What is it age? She’s probably closer to your age than mine; just about any guy in this place would have her in a heartbeat if I let ‘em.” I had nothing to say, and Baldy was about to learn what I was frantic about. There was no telling how much she heard but it was surely enough to be damaging.
“What are you boys talking about?” She chimed in. Baldy looked over and I expected a look of panic but he only looked mildly interested in her 2 drinks. “Oh right, I thought you might need these.” We both took one even though I definitely did not ‘need’ another drink. “So what were you on about?”
“One of your favorite subjects babe, sex!” he punctuated the sentence with a slap to her ass. She blushed only slightly and looked like she was trying to suppress a smile. It was a good look for her.

don't stop

Do continue I am intrigued.

Did you give up or are you going to get off your lazy ass and finish this! Are the names real? If not i think I know "Sherry". It's ok, I'm allowed to b a b*tch cuz I know him ;)

Sorry so long. I didn't think it would take that long to write. Probably Thursday.

I'd like to see where this goes!