down in the basement

His wife held parties all the time. All of the “normal” holidays to throw a party with your friends: Memorial Day, 4th of July, Halloween, Christmas, birthdays… but then there were the ones that were a little more random… April Fools Day, Flag Day… really any reason they could find to have people over and to get drunk and blow up fireworks.

I was invited to the majority of the parties. The only ones that I wasn’t invited to were the few that were couple-specific because they were doing a Valentine’s dinner or something similar. I always got the email and since I was underage and lived at school, you never knew whether or not I’d make it. I always tried my best to make it because that meant that I got to spend time with him and see him…even if it was from afar.

I was greeted at the end of the driveway by his wife along with her best friend. One of them held out her hands for my keys. The other had an entire tray of Jell-O shots. I was underage at that point (just by a little), so we were being responsible. I knew that I had a spot on an air mattress in their office so I wouldn’t drive. I lost count that night after six jello shots and four beer.

I don’t remember what took him and I into the basement. Their basement was 3/4 finished, so we’d often have different party areas all around the house and yard, but somehow we both ended up in the basement together. The kiss I gave him was full of passion and left us both wanting more…but that was the fun of it…we didn’t know who was going to come down the stairs next. We didn’t know if anyone was waiting for us at the top of the stairs or if people had just gone back outside by the fire pit or to refill their drinks. I spun around with the intention of heading upstairs to join the rest of the party. I felt a grip on my elbow…just enough to make me turn around.

The desire and love in his eyes…it was on fire…and I knew it was there for me. He pulled me close and I kissed him again. Pressing my body against his…nothing else mattered in that moment. I could feel his cock through his pants and I was happy that I could get that reaction given the circumstances.

I would have done whatever he wanted me to in that moment. He took me by the hand as we kissed and pulled me so I’d follow him. We went through the doorway (which had no door) into the laundry area. We could still hear if anyone started coming down the steps, but no one could see us from the stairwell. Our kisses intensified and we had to have each other…there was no stopping it at that point. We had had just enough alcohol to determine that we lost our inhibitions and that this seemed like a good idea. With my pants and panties around my knees, I gladly bent over for him and bit my lip to keep from screaming with pleasure as he fucked me from behind.

Just as quickly as we started, we finished with no time to spare as we heard someone yell his name…afterall it was a party that he was a host of…at his house. We straightened our clothes out and gave each other another kiss before rejoining the party. As I stood around the firepit with his other friends, talking and laughing, I could feel his cum starting to drip out of me. It was a reminder of the passion that only he and I knew about…the passion that couldn’t keep us apart.

That night was one of many memorable nights that we have had together… the incredible sex. Puking on the floor in front of his wife (a story for another day). Turning down free concert tickets for my favorite band. Blowing things up with dynamite. It was the kind of party that I glad I experienced in my lifetime, but glad that I don’t try and do now.

What is it about illicit times or places that can make a man harder than ever before and you wetter than you knew was possible? It’s that kind of passion and experience that provides that high…it’s a high that I continued to chase for many years with him. It’s the kind of high that we lived in for many years of our relationship. However…it’s that “danger” that still sends excitement through me when I’m with someone new…

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