[Continued from "Party, Part 1."]

The hippie chick put on the strap-on.  She walked around the party and went up to all the men demanding that they suck it.  It was hilarious.  Most of them gave it a try … a sad, sad try.  Finally I had to show them how it was done.  I sucked her cock for a few minutes.  According to the members of the audience, I did an excellent-looking job.

One of the ladies at the party was very drawn to the strap-on harness.  She asked the hippie chick if she could borrow it.  The hippie chick acquiesced and handed it over.  The rest of us went to the bedroom and left the woman to use the strap-on with her boyfriend.

Back in the bedroom the host suggested that when the strap-on was free that the hippie chick should fuck me with it.  That sounded like a lot of fun.  In the mean time the hippie couple, the host, and I fooled around on the bed.

The hippie guy and I began to explore each other.  He discovered my clit; he spent a significant amount of time fingering it very slowly and very steadily.  So long that the couple who had been using the strap-on returned from their ministrations, and sat, and watched as the hippie guy fingered my clit.  When I finally came – from clitoral stimulation alone – it was loud, and wonderful.  The observers congratulated the hippie guy for eliciting such a response from me.

The party’s host continued to insist that the hippie chick fuck me with the strap-on.  However, we were too distracted doing other things to get right down to it.  I requested the hippie guy fuck my ass.  He declined, but in the nicest way.  He opted, instead, to fuck his girlfriend, which I completely understood.  I’d already had a lot of fun.

The host kept bringing up the hippie chick fucking me with the strap-on.  His repeated insistence became downright creepy.

…

When I woke up everyone had gone.  I apologized to the host for falling asleep, as the party was not meant to be of the slumber variety.  The host was very nice, and even went so far as to make me quite a nice brunch that included freshly squeezed orange juice and some fluffy scrambled eggs.  The toast was his homemade bread.

Over brunch he told me he’d give me a ride home on the back of his motorcycle.  As I’d taken two buses there, I was grateful for the offer, which accepted.

After brunch we retired to the living room.  The host was obviously making his moves on me.  I, however, was still tired, and was a little jarred by the transition from a whole group to one-on-one for relations.  I really just wanted to go home and spend the day decompressing.

The host told me about a date he had recently had.  The second date with a certain woman had her to his house to eat a dinner he made.  He told me that they had not had sex, but that she should have known that going to his house to eat food he prepared meant that sex was expected.

At the time I sat there on the couch I was a tad out of it due to little sleep and thrill of having just had my first group sex situation.  It wasn’t until later that I realized he was telling me that since I was at his house, and he had made me a meal, that I “owed” him sex.

It should have dawned on me much earlier, because as soon as I made it clear I didn’t want to have sex with him that day he told me he no longer had time to give me a ride home.  I walked to the bus stop.  He rode his motorcycle past me as I waited for a bus that would take me toward home.

I swear.  True story.