Page 27 of His Every Move

I also wanted to spend hours rolling around naked in the sheets with him. There were some men who I had instant chemistry with, and Benji was one of those men. From the second that I met him at Stonewall, I felt a spark in my core that didn’t light up for just anyone.

Maybe I should have invited him to the party tonight…

It wasn’t the first time the thought crossed my mind, but each time it did, I quickly crumpled it up and tossed it away. As hot as that would have been, I didn’t want to push any boundaries he wouldn’t have been comfortable with. He seemed to be just fine when I told him what I did for work, but that didn’t mean he’d be okay with getting invited to a sex party.

Besides, we weren’t even dating. There was nothing except a professional relationship between us.

Although… fuck, was that detective hot as sin.

I sighed and tried to forget about Benji.

Bryant Park was busy today. People lazily strolled through the green space tucked in between tall metallic skyscrapers. Kids laughed and chased pigeons as parents sat on benches and talked with their spouses. An extremely talented mime artist was drawing quite a crowd as she tried to escape from an invisible box.

I walked past, wondering how the hell I was supposed to break out of my own invisible constraints. It felt like the walls around me were getting closer and closer with every new message from Nomad. Like they were days away from throwing a bag over my head and dragging me to their secret lair.

A chill slithered down my back. I looked over my shoulder. It was a habit that had developed only recently.

I didn’t always feel this way. I liked to think of myself as a free-spirit. Anxiety and fear weren’t typically emotions I’d dealt with growing up. I had an almost toxic sense of optimism. It helped me get through school, through my parents’ divorce, being homeless, through a countless number of fights with my sister.

But the world continued to crush me. My mom’s death was my biggest breaking point. The optimism drained out of me in one fell swoop. Then I couldn’t crack into Broadway, no matter how many classes I took or auditions I went to or producers I networked with. Brutal rejection after brutal rejection started to make me feel like whatever little optimism and hope I had left was misplaced. A silly thing I had to outgrow. I started my cam career as a way to not just pay the bills but reclaim some of that “performance” energy I so fucking craved.

Then Nomad stepped onto the stage, and my inspirational play turned into a nightmarish horror film.

Anxiety and fear were no longer strangers to me. They were close acquaintances.

So tonight, I was determined to leave them at home. I had to let loose. Needed to just letgo.

What better way to do that than go to an orgy?

* * *

Midnight Manhattan was being held in a penthouse near the Upper East Side. I climbed out of my Uber and looked up at the tall, stately building housing the old money of the city. Billionaires, celebrities, royalty. All of them were known to live in this neighborhood.

I wondered how many of them knew about the party going on tonight? Which of the stuffy old moneybags in this building were aware of all the anonymous cock-sucking and ass-fucking that was going on right above their heads?

Something about that made this even hotter.

I thanked my driver and went up to the doorman. He was dressed in all black, which matched with the black shorts and T-shirt I wore. My mask was inside my pocket. I decided I’d put it on in the elevator so that I didn’t give away too much.

“Hi, sir, I’m here for the event going on in PH2.”

“Of course. Do you have the entrance code?”

“Yes, it’s starry night.”

“Excellent. Right this way.”

I followed him into the opulent lobby, walking across the shining marble floors and toward an elevator bay with golden elevator doors and a massive paint-blotched canvas that looked expensive as fuck. The doorman held a key card against the call pad, and the doors smoothly slid open. I stepped inside, the walls of the elevator covered in more black and white marble, and thanked the doorman as he hit the PH2 button. He gave me a suggestive wink as the door closed.

Huh. Maybe this party wasn’t as secret to the residents as I thought.

I glanced at my reflection in the elevator door, making sure my hair was right and that I didn’t have anything stuck in my teeth. I was proud of the way I looked and didn’t stress too much about it. Maybe it helped that I was paid to be naked and jerk off in front of thousands of people online, but even before I had my cam career, I always felt confident in my body. I wasn’t a gym rat, and I wasn’t a walking bean pole, either. The fact that I had been a competitive swimmer in college likely helped keep my body in check. I was the “guy next door” type, with a juicy ass, a toned and slightly sculpted stomach, some hair on my chest, and a thick, uncut, seven-inch cock.

Yeah, I didn’t have much to feel bad about. Which made nights like these all the more fun.

Zack was right about the safety of the event, as well. I spoke with the organizer personally and told him about my situation with Nomad. He promised they’d be extra vigilant and would also provide undercover security as an extra layer of protection. If this were an open party or a bar, then I wouldn’t have risked it.

The doors opened into a wide hallway. A man—naked except for a peacock feather mask that covered half his face—stood at the door. He smiled, extending a hand. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to shake that or the elephant trunk that he had swinging between his legs.

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