Justin, Dom and I proceeded upstairs and headed outside, excited by the prospects that lay ahead of us on this Enchanted Evening. Dom, ever the gentleman, held the door open for me and Justin, bowing elegantly just like a fairy tale footman (although I happen to know he wasn't really a foot man - he was definitely an ass man - although I suppose that didn't mean he couldn't occasionally admire a well turned ankle here and there). I dropped him a perky little curtsy as I sashayed by and was rewarded by a slap on my perky little heinie, which actually stung a little since, of course, I was wearing my favorite crotchless chaps which left a good portion of my bonny butt cheeks unprotected.
At the end of the driveway, Justin started to head over towards my functional little mini-van parked at the curb.
"Hold up, Honey!" I halted him. "We simply can't go to the Ball in that beat up old heap. Just wait a minute and I'll call for our carriage!"
"Our what?" Justin questioned.
"You'll see!" I dug my cell phone out of the inside pocket of my black leather vest (that's the one major drawback with wearing leathers, don't ya know, no pockets to keep your keys, wallet and cell in - Oh well, the things we go through in the name of fashion, right). "Mick. We're ready honey. Come and get us," I trilled into the phone then gave Dom's address to the carriage driver.
Not five minutes later, a glamorous stretch white limo pulled up to the curb in front of us and a tall, lean, butch blond hopped out of the drivers seat, coming around the vehicle to hold open the side door for our little party.
"G'day, gentlemen. I'm Mick Lundee. I'll be your driver tonight. Just let me know if there is ANYTHING I can do to, I mean for, you," came the sultry greeting in a sexy baritone voice complete with an Australian accent that could make you cream your pants just listening to it.
Mick's eyes were glued to Justin's gorgeous visage the entire time he was talking and I was pretty sure the reason his luscious red tongue came out to lick across his full lower lip was to tend to the drop of drool that had escaped from the corner there. I smiled indulgently - Oh, yes, our baby Justin was going to be making quite a statement tonight. I could already tell. As Justin bent to enter the limo, Mick's gaze followed the pretty, perky ass with such hunger in his look that I worried briefly if Dom and I hadn't overdone the effects a little, but, C'est la Vie, Baby. I had to forcefully nudge Mick out of his revery so that Dom and I could get into the limo behind our little star.
"How did you work this, Em?" the angel boy asked once we were settled into the luxurious limo.
"Mick's a dear, dear friend of mine. I use his services all the time in my party planning business. He's actually working tonight for another one of my clients, but managed to slip us in after he dropped off the other party. He can pick us up too, but he told me we have to be ready and waiting outside Babylon by midnight so he can get us home and then get back to his clients on time. So, just make sure to be ready on the stroke of midnight or our carriage will simply disappear," I warned the boy.
"You're the best, Auntie Em," beamed the boy. "Don't worry, I'll be there on time. I still can't believe you've done all this for me. It's like magic!"
"Bibbity, Boppity, Boooooo-ty!" I replied in my best Fairy Godperson falsetto.*
In no time at all, we arrived at the scene of the affair - Babylon, the most preeminent gay dance club in Pittsburgh. And tonight the place was done up to the nines! The entrance had been draped with black leather curtains held back by red velvet roping. There was a red carpet leading all the way from the door to the curb and crowds of gaping bystanders were held back from this aisle by more velvet ropes. It looked like a movie premiere at Grauman's Chinese Theater.
I directed Mick to pull right up to the red carpet. One thing I've learned in my business is that it's all about appearances, honey, and how you make an entrance. Tonight I didn't care that we hadn't been specifically invited to use the red carpet, but damned if I was gonna stand in line with the rest of the Hoi Polloi. Not with my little trump card, Juicy Justin, in hand. I knew that with the way that boy looked tonight, there was no way any bouncer would fail to let us in with the rest of the A-listers.
"Ready, boys?" I asked as we watched Mick come around to open the limo door.
"I don't know. How do I look, really," asked the nervous nellie boy next to me.
"Justin, you look great. In fact you look ‘Shagadelic, baby'," I added in my best Austin Powers imitation. This got us all giggling and dispelled some of Justin's nerves, enough so that when he finally emerged from the limo, he was smiling and didn't look at all jittery.
"Follow me, boys," I directed as I raised my chin to an appropriately haughty height and strutted down the carpet like a model working the runway. Dom followed in my wake, waving to the assembled bystanders in his full performer's persona. And behind him came little Justin.
I guess I won't be calling the boy ‘Little Justin' for much longer though. He definitely didn't look like a 'little' anything as he purposely paraded up the red carpet with his head held high, his golden hair gleaming in the spotlights and his piercing, sapphire eyes glinting through the enigmatic white leather mask. The crowd became silent as he passed by them. All eyes were captured by the angelic vision of beauty which had appeared in their midst. And our entourage floated right up that carpet and in through the entrance while the bouncers held the doors wide without any comment at all. ‘Make a splashy entrance - Check', I thought to myself with a grin.
The party inside was already in full swing when we arrived. ‘Always arrive fashionably late - Check', I thought as I mentally went through my internal To Do list. Now, all we had to do was get the attention of prince charming - or in this case, Brian Kinney - and then I trusted that Justin could take it from there.
What better way to get some attention than by making a scene, I thought, so as soon as we walked into the main room of the club, I snatched a handy little leather riding crop away from the nearest party-goer and used it to clear a path through the throng of teeming men. Dom followed my lead and between the two of us we managed to clear a pathway so that our Worship-Worthy Ward, who was following a couple of paces behind, could walk without worry through the waves of wondering watchers, all gaping at the wondrous sight.
While the thumpa, thumpa of the music continued, the overall noise level in the club dropped about two decibels as Justin waltzed through the crowd and approached the dance floor. Many of the dancers were routed from their revelry by the hush preceding our little party and they all turned to stare. Then, almost as if by magic, an opening broke through the crowd of bouncing, sweaty, half-naked, dancing men, providing a straight shot at the tall, dark and handsome figure still posing at the center of the dance floor.
Brian Kinney - the Stud of Liberty Avenue, the man voted ‘Most Likely to Fuck Everything He Sees' according to his high school yearbook and BDOC (Big Dick On Campus) at college, the man who was responsible for more than half the cum stains on the walls of the backrooms of half the clubs and bathhouses in Pittsburgh - was standing alone at the center of the dance floor with his gaze riveted on the white-leather-clad dream approaching him.
Justin didn't waiver even for a moment. He didn't even look at any of the ogling men he passed. Justin had eyes for only one man and went to him like a homing pigeon to roost. The Daring Dear walked straight up to the waiting hunk, looked him in the eyes briefly, then raised his arms to drape them over Kinney's shoulders as he began to sway his hips seductively from side to side.
"Dance with me," he whispered into Brian's ear.
"It'll be my sincere pleasure," Brian whispered back as he grasped the slim frame of his dance partner by the hips and pulled the younger man closer. The bodies of the two men melted into each other perfectly, pressed tightly from knee to chest. The pair kept undulating to their own internal music while their hands wandered freely over each other's backs and shoulders and down to trail over rounded, full glutes. And finally, the crowd seemed to shake its collective heads and the other dancers on the floor pulled their attention away from the center couple to resume their own seductions.
I kinda lost track of the two of them about this time, as the crowd again encircled the pair. So, I pulled Dom with me up the stairs and onto the catwalk above where I could keep an eye on the Cub and the Cad and still shake my own booty a bit. It took us ten or fifteen minutes to get to a spot where we could gain a glimpse of the glorious duo. By this time, the situation below had already progressed from the touching phase to the tongueing phase - the two men's lips were locked together and there was some obvious tongue action taking place. ‘You go, baby', was my only thought as I felt I could finally relax and let the tyro take things from here. Besides, I had my own celebrating to do at this Ball and I knew that my dom, Dom, had some special activities planned for me this evening - it was time for the newbie to sink or swim on his own.
I pieced together the rest of the tale of that evening later, using the info I got from my usual sources and from what Justin told me. And unfortunately, as these things go, the path to true love wasn't that smooth - I mean, what would be the point of telling the whole tale if all you could say was that the boy walked right up to the man of his dreams, fell into his arms and lived happily ever after? I mean, that would likely put all of us Fairy Godpeople right out of business, not to mention the fan fiction writers and romance novelists. Anyways, as expected, there were complications - a bunch of them - and since I was a little distracted (mostly due to the blindfold and leather handcuff Dom had brought with him as party favors), I'm afraid that poor Justin had to face these problems all by his little old lonesome.
You see, amidst the admiring crowd of onlookers on the ostentatious dance floor that evening, there were two not-so-admiring oglers. The Dreadful Duo of Ethan and Ian had arrived much earlier in the evening and were leaning against the bar at the instant that Justin staged his grand entrance. The two witnessed the way the waif-in-white waltzed in and, without wasting any time, wrested away the attentions of the tall brunet wonder who they'd been admiring all evening.
Ethan was instantly infuriated at how easily the ingenue simply walked up to Kinney and took control of the otherwise dominant stud. He himself had tried to hit on the man earlier in the evening and got only a cursory, ‘Fuck Off' for all his efforts. And, so far, neither he nor Ian had had much luck with any of the other hotties here at the Ball, which meant that Ethan was not in the best mood when the newcomer arrived. In fact, Ethan was feeling as mad as a mule chewing on a mouthfull of bumblebees. And the more he watched the white and black figures entwined together at the middle of the dance floor, the angrier he got.
Now when Ethan got angry, it was generally a bad thing for anyone around him, because Ethan was a real stinker. That boy wasn't one to let bygones be bygones. He wasn't one to turn the other cheek. He definitely wasn't one to learn from negative experiences and use them to become a better person. No, he was the type to store up his anger inside until it festered like a boil on the butt cheek of a fat man. He would save up all that fury and when it had soured and festered and fermented, he would lash out at anyone and anything nearby in the most hurtful way he could think of. And right now, he was thinking about revenge!
With the most malicious of evil glints in his eye, Ethan turned to his brother, pulled his head closer and began to whisper into Ian's ear, occasionally pausing to snicker as he darted his eyes with a determined scowl towards the figure in white on the dance floor. Ian, whose heart was equally as rotten and black as his brother's, sneered and snickered along and even, once, wrung his hands together in an evil fashion. Then, without any further clues as to their intents, the two moved away from the bar area and disappeared into the crowd.
Meanwhile out on the dance floor, Big Bad Brian appeared to still be entranced with the angel in his arms. Quite out of character for him, he hadn't simply pulled the boy to the backroom after only one dance and thence had his way with the willing boy. No, Brian appeared to be enjoying the company of the younger man. The two were dancing and kissing and even *gasp* talking together and were now standing together at the bar enjoying drinks. Many observers noted, as they passed by the pair, that Kinney was holding the other man's hand - and not just in a follow me to the backroom kind of way, but in an almost intimate fashion.
Exactly what the two were saying to each other was hard to determine since the conversation involved much whispering with mouths gently pressed against ears and was interrupted frequently by kissing, licking, nipping and other amorous interludes. However, the bartender told me later that, from what he could tell, Brian was trying to get the other man to remove his mask. The vision in white, though, was putting him off and maintaining that he wanted to keep the mask on, at least for now.
After another spell on the dance floor, it looked like Brian was about to move things along to the, in his mind, inevitable conclusion in the backroom. However, the rather inexperienced Justin had been experiencing a minor inconvenience related to the aforementioned triple crown cockring and begged off briefly when Brian began to budge him towards the back. You see, all the bumping and grinding on the dance floor had created the expected result - the boy was so hard you could have used his dick in lieu of a crowbar. And the sweet little cock ring was adding to the experience, as it was designed to do.
By this time, the poor boy was actually in just a bit of pain and he was sure his balls were already as blue as that ox he'd heard Brian had boffed. Not really sure what to do in this situation, and not wanting to come off as a complete idiot in front of Brian and the whole contingent of backroom bystanders, he figgered he better find me and get some quick advice before proceeding any further. So, he quietly advised his hopefully-soon-to-be-lover that he had to make a pit stop and that he would be right back.
Justin's departure was watched not only by Brian, who was likewise rather hard and very eager to get this boy where he wanted him, namely the backroom, but also by two other men who had a much less amiable intent. Justin was doomed to failure in his quest to find me, however, because right at that moment I was a little tied up (literally) and not really available for Q&A sessions. So, Justin just wandered around looking for me for several minutes, without success, and was about ready to give up and return to Brian, pain in the dick or no pain in the dick, when the nefarious Ethan made his play.
"Hey, Beautiful. Where are you headed?" was the greasy come on that oozed from the slimy lips as Ethan stepped out in front of Justin, effectively halting his progress.
Justin recognized Ethan immediately, of course, but didn't want to say anything because he was afraid of giving himself away, so he just shook his head and tried to move around the man obstructing his path. That was when Ian also showed up, his head appearing from behind the beleaguered blond and greasily winding his arms around Justin's waist.
"Don't run off so fast, Sweetheart," Ian drooled into Justin's ear. "We just want to get to know you a little better. Let's the three of us go get comfortable and you'll see just how much fun we can have." And with that the sleazy siblings dragged the struggling Justin off towards a secluded corner of the club, sneering all the way.