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The Messenger

by Joel Young

Chapter 12

The Cast Party

Every Smart Teenage Boy

My parents went completely overboard on the cast party.

The DJ was already playing Top 40 hits as the cast and crew started to arrive. My Mom had worked with the photographers from our school newspaper, and she had lots of pictures from our rehearsals and performances. The pictures were posted on two large, portable display boards which were set up about 12 feet across from each other. The display boards had a canopy above them. Together, the canopy and display boards formed a dramatic entrance into the main party room.

Inside, there were tables filled with hors d'oeuvres and cold beverages. There were also some empty tables with linen tablecloths to be used later for serving the dinner buffet. There was a dance floor close to where the DJ had set up. Several of the mothers had decorated the room in a theatrical theme. There were posters from our show and previous Joliet shows hung from the ceiling. A few free-standing spotlights were placed around the room. There were round tables in the dining area. Each one had a red table cloth and a centerpiece made with a large vase of flowers with theatrical masks inserted with bamboo forks. Each table also had confetti in our school colors, and there were party favors for everyone.

Across the hall from the main party room, there was a smaller room in which my parents had arranged for an open bar. There was a sign in front of the room that read, "You Must Be At Least 21 to Enter." Mom and Dad had asked the parents of several cast and crew members to 'help chaperone.' I was very glad to see that Mr. and Mrs. Hinman had been invited, but that the Andersons were nowhere to be seen.

The guests seemed very impressed and almost overwhelmed by the lavish party preparations. I wondered if I still had a college fund.

I was surprised at how quickly people started dancing. But, the show had been a lot of work. It had involved a lot of stress. And, I guess everyone was ready to let loose and have fun.

Kevin and Heather were one of the first couples on the dance floor. And, wow! Could Kevin dance! He was incredible! Soon, Heather sat down, and Kevin looked for someone else to dance with him. Most of the girls seemed too intimidated. The few that did take the risk appeared to have had some dance training.

I looked for Ben, but I didn't see him in the main party room. Then, I realized where he probably was. I headed across the hall to the room with the bar. Ignoring the sign, I stepped inside. I saw Ben talking with a group of parents. I quietly motioned for him to come into the hall. I wanted to make sure that he and his friends from DCOPA were planning to stick around. We were having a short program after dinner to present gifts to them in recognition of the leadership they provided in making our show such a success.

When Ben saw me, he excused himself from his conversation and walked out into the hallway. He was holding what looked to me like a mixed drink. As Ben walked past me, I could smell his Aramis. He motioned for me to follow him. When we came to the end of the long corridor, near a stairwell, he stopped and turned around. "Don't even ask, Joel," he said. "I won't do it."

I had no idea what Ben thought I was going to ask him to do. I did, however, recognize the tone of voice he used when challenging me to a verbal sparring match. I decided to play along.

"Oh, I think you will," I said. "Last Monday, you promised me that for the next seven days, you'd do whatever I need you to do. And, the time isn't up until tomorrow."

"And, if I don't? Ben challenged.

"Well, for starters," I said. "I can use my family connections to change the requirements for getting a drink from the bar. I'm sure I can get my father to make that sign read 'Parents Only.' And, since my mother is such a stickler, I can easily get her to enforce the new rule."

"You can't do that!" Ben declared. "There's a constitutional amendment banning cruel and unusual punishment."

"Ben, do you really think I'm scared that you'd try to get me in trouble for that?" I asked. "I have too much information about you, my friend - potentially useful information."

"True," Ben said. "But that wouldn't necessarily stop me. Even if you did your worst, I don't think I've done anything that would get me locked up."

"I agree," I said. "But, weren't you the one who called me a strategic liar?"

"Yes, yes I was," he said. "But, two can play at that game. Care to know what I have in mind for you?"

"Not really," I said. "Your idle threats hold no particular interest for me."

Ben took a sip of the drink he had brought with him. He gave me a smug look. "Okay, then," he said. "I won't copy you on my letter to the admissions department at Princeton."

I had never mentioned my interest in Princeton to Ben, and I had no idea how he knew that I was planning to apply there. His comment moved our verbal sparring to a personal level, and it caught me off guard. I stumbled in my gameplay.

"Yea?" I said. "You wouldn't even know where to begin or what to write!"

It was a weak comeback, and I knew it.

"Are you for real?" Ben asked. "I wouldn't even have to work at writing a letter of 'recommendation' about you. All I'd have to do is quote the kind of language you use during school activities. I wonder if Princeton wants to admit students who will probably use phrases like "suck my dick,' and 'cum in your mouth' during freshman orientation?"

Ben had me on the defensive, and I paused too long. He jumped in with another shot before I even tried to speak.

"And come to think of it," Ben continued. "I might include another observation. I've never heard you say anything about girls you think are cute or girls you want to date. I wonder what that omission might mean."

I managed to regain my footing. "It means that I try to limit my topics of conversation to those which might be of interest to the person with whom I am speaking!"

I had to find a way to get back on the offensive. I continued before Ben had a chance to respond.

"But okay," I said. "Go ahead and refuse to do what I ask. Break your promise to me. It won't bother me any more than it did all the other times that you pulled your crap on me!"

"You're crazy," Ben said. "I'm the one who made you a success in this play. I made you a leader – and a star. I taught you how to manage a production. I listened when you needed to talk about your broken, teenage heart. And, I held when you cried. When have I ever done anything but treat you like a prince?"

"Oh, there are so many times to choose from!" I said. "How about this one? I offered to write a poem for you so that maybe you wouldn't lose the stupid bet you made with your friends down at Baby Jane's Locker. And, after I wrote it and gave it to you, you didn't even bother to read it!"

Ben sneered at me and said, "Don't assume that just because I didn't comment on your attempt at poetry, I didn't read it. Just as you claim to limit your topics of conversation to the interests of your listeners, I limit my conversations in order to remain polite. In other words, if I don't have anything nice to say, I don't say anything at all!"

I felt my stomach sink. Ben's comment really hurt. I had hoped that he would like the poem I wrote. I wanted him to appreciate what I had tried to do for him. Apparently, I had failed. I decided that our sparring match had become too personal and too ugly. I didn't want to play anymore.

"Okay, okay," I said. "I don't even know why we're having this ridiculous argument. But, I give up. You win."

We were both quiet for a while, and Ben seemed to calm down. "Good," he said. "It was time for you to concede. And since you've acknowledged your defeat, I will be gracious in victory. That doesn't mean, however, that I won't collect my spoils. Therefore, my obligation to do whatever you need ends – in one hour."

His answer surprised me. "What's in one hour?" I asked.

"Dinner," Ben said. "It's now a few minutes before 6:00, and I hear that dinner will begin at 7:00. "Until then, I'll do whatever you need - or want. But, you have to do me a favor first."

I didn't know where this conversation was headed, and I was getting a little nervous. "What's the favor?" I asked.

"I want you to finish the rest of my drink," Ben said.

I took another look at his drink. It was very dark in color, and there was about half a glass left.

"What is it? I asked.

"A Black Russian," Ben answered.

I was still unsure what Ben had in mind. "Why do you want me to finish your drink?"

"It has a rather strong taste," Ben said. "And if we've both had some, it won't bother you as much."

It took me some time to figure out exactly what Ben was suggesting. When I finally got it, I asked, "What about your Volunteer Services Agreement? The production isn't over until after Strike tomorrow."

"I re-read the Agreement last week," Ben said. "The 'genius' business school graduate who filled out the form didn't know enough about theater to allow time for striking the set. According to the Agreement, my obligations end at 5:00 p.m. on Sunday, March 24th . That's today, and it's now almost 6:00 p.m. Since the Agreement has expired, and we're not on school property, I don't see why Joliet should have any influence on the decisions we make."

I thought about my options, and I reached for Ben's drink. He handed it to me. I looked him in the eyes, and I chugged all of what was left in the glass.

Then, I gagged! It tasted terrible! "Jesus Christ!" I managed to choke out. "What the Hell is in this?"

"It's coffee liqueur and chilled vodka," Ben answered. "It's not meant for you to chug it. But if you just take sips, you might enjoy it - with experience."

"I'll pass on any more experience with that foul concoction," I said as I handed him the empty glass. "Meet me back here in 10 minutes."

We walked back to the room with the open bar. As I watched Ben going to get himself another drink, I noticed the "No Smoking" sign on the wall. "I hope Ben has followed that rule today," I thought to myself. I headed to the main party room to cover my tracks.

I worked the room, trying to make sure that as many people as possible saw me. Then I said, "Darn it! I forgot to bring the presents. I'll have to run home and get them."

I headed down the hallway, and I saw Ben waiting for me. As soon as I reached him, I opened the stairwell door that led to the basement. Ben followed me down the stairs and to the door of a basement storage room. Fortunately, it was unlocked.

Once we were both inside, I found a metal folding chair and propped it up tightly underneath the door knob. I hoped that would prevent people from entering the room, or at least to slow them down.

I turned around and saw Ben looking at me with his killer smile. We came together and immediately started kissing. This time, we weren't limited to just one kiss.

I could still taste Ben's Black Russian, but it didn't seem too strong. Quickly, I was focusing only on the smell of his Aramis, the sensations of our kisses, and my growing sexual arousal.

"I've really wanted this," I whispered to Ben.

"Me too," he said. "I've been having sexy thoughts about you since that first day at auditions."

"You mean when I tried to convince you that I don't like playing with balls?" I teased.

"Well," he said. "You still haven't proven anything – one way or another."

"Will this help clear things up?" I asked. I began fondling the bulge in his pants.

As soon as I began to massage Ben's cock and balls through his pants, he leaned his head back, closed his eyes and moaned. I loved watching him enjoy my touch.

Ben lowered his head and looked at me. "Joel," he said. "You are very talented. And, you're a beautiful boy. Your body is so well proportioned, and you're cute as Hell. I want you to know that I will never forget you – or our time together."

I have always considered my looks and my body to be only average. But, Ben's words gave me a new feeling of confidence. He made me feel sexually attractive. And, I did something I had never before even thought of doing. I stripped myself naked - while being watched.

When I was finished, Ben flashed his wonderful smile at me. "I was right," he said. You are completely beautiful – and well proportioned." He started to take off his clothes.

"Wait," I said. "I want you to hold me first."

Ben seemed to know exactly what I wanted. "Come here, Sexy Boy," he said. "I'll hold you for as long as you need." I stepped toward Ben, and he took me in his arms.

Being held by Ben, while I was naked and he was fully clothed, was almost magical to me. It somehow satisfied a craving – an emptiness that seemed to haunt my soul. I wanted to be accepted by the adult world for the person I truly was. I wanted to be appreciated by someone who didn't expect me to be perfect – someone with whom I didn't always have to pretend to be confident and strong. Being completely exposed, in the caring arms of a handsome man, gave me a moment of emotional relief that I desperately needed.

When I was ready to move on, I said, "Touch me."

Ben ran his hands down my back and firmly grasped my buttocks. Then, he let go and took a step back so that he could explore the front side of me. He leaned in and kissed me as he took hold of my hard cock and lightly stroked it.

When the kiss ended, Ben turned away and looked around the room. He reached for some furniture blankets that had been thrown over a stack of folding chairs. Ben layered the blankets flat on the concrete floor, creating a makeshift bed against the farthest wall from the door. He guided me down into a sitting position. I watched as he undressed.

I had never seen Ben without his shirt. Several times at rehearsals, I had noticed that a few buttons at the top of his shirt were unfastened. And, I had seen that he had hair on his upper chest. I was not prepared, however, for what I saw when he tossed his shirt to the floor and removed his tee-shirt. Ben's chest and abdomen were beautifully covered with dark, manly fur. My eyes widened, and I could feel my excitement intensify. And, when I saw his huge, cut cock, already at half mast, I felt light headed.

"We can't do everything that I'd like to do," Ben said. "I didn't plan for this to happen tonight, and I didn't bring protection."

I considered our situation, and I decided to take charge.

I looked up at Ben - naked and mostly erect. "What age group am I in, Ben?" I asked.

Ben looked confused and took his time before answering in a very tentative voice. "A minor?"

"That's not what I meant, and let's not go there," I said firmly. "I'll give you this one - I'm a teenager. Now, what gender am I? Your choice is either boy or girl."

"You're a boy," Ben said. "A beautiful boy."

"Thank you for the compliment," I said. "And 'boy' is the correct answer. Okay, we've established that I am a teenage boy. I hope my next question won't sound too conceited. Am I smart or stupid?"

"Smart, very smart," Ben answered.

"Again," I said. "Thanks for the compliment. Now, here's my last question. What does every smart, teenage boy - who wants to get laid - carry in his wallet?"

I could tell by Ben's smile that he now understood the meaning of my short quiz. He said nothing as I stood up and walked over to the pile of my clothes on the floor. I took my wallet out of the pants pocket and removed a condom tucked behind my driver's license. I held it up for Ben to see.

"You were wrong, Ben," I said. "We can do anything that you want to do."

Ben took the condom and tossed it on the blankets. Again, he took my hands and helped lower me to a sitting position. He sat down next to me, and we began kissing. I ran my hands over his fur-covered torso, and I was fascinated by how it felt. My hands found his hard cock. I pressed my head against his manly chest as I looked down and watched myself stroking him. "Lie back," I told him.

When we were both reclined, I resumed fondling Ben's cock. It was thick and long. I moved down and ran my lips around the shaft. Ben's whole body stiffened. When I took him fully into my mouth, he placed his hands on my head and gently guided my movements. We established a rhythm, and I became lost in the act of pleasuring him. I loved listening to his guttural expressions of how good I was making him feel.

I couldn't see Ben's face as I was savoring his hardness and the feeling of his cock in my mouth. So, I repositioned myself to straddle his legs and face him. I stroked him with my hand as I smiled at him.

"You want to see me enjoy it, don't you Joel?" he asked.

"Yea," I said. "That's the icing on the cake."

"Let's try to hold off for a while before we - ice the cakes," Ben said.

We maintained eye contact as I bent down and took him back into my mouth. Soon, I had him squirming and moaning loudly. I indulged myself in making love to Ben's cock for a good ten minutes. As I applied more pressure to his enviable endowment, I could tell that he was getting close. Then, he stopped me and moved us into a 69 position. "Just touch me for now," Ben said. He started running his tongue around the head of my cock, and I lightly played with him using just the tips of my fingers. When he impaled his mouth with the full length of my erection, it felt incredible! I hadn't realized how much I had missed sexual intimacy.

As soon as I knew that I was close to losing control, I stopped Ben. "Just a minute," I told him. I reached for the condom and grinned. "Do you want to do the honors, or should I?"

"You brought the wrapper," he said. "You can seal up the package."

"Like your own personal pack and ship?" I teased.

"Not exactly," Ben said. "I always insist on driving the delivery truck."

I opened the foil package and carefully rolled its contents down Ben's thick, lengthy cock. When I was done, I put my arms around Ben's neck and pulled him down on top of me. We kissed passionately as we pressed against each other. Ben moved his torso lower on me. I lifted my hips, and I pressed against his rock-hard cock as it found my entrance.

I had only been fucked once before – by David on our last night together. Then, I had felt no pain or discomfort. Now, that experience made me confident. I pressed back on Ben's cock, inviting him to penetrate me. He pushed in, and I loved the feeling of being filled up. And, the friction of his cock rubbing up against my prostate was glorious!

At first, Ben's movements were slow and deliberate as he made love to me. It was almost as if he wanted to feel and savor every inch of our contact. Soon, however, he picked up his pace and pumped me with faster, harder strokes.

I have always liked hearing the words that a lover speaks during intimacy. I get off on the sounds of intense sexual enjoyment. And, Ben was the most verbal sexual partner I have ever had. There was a continuous verbal expression of his carnal gratification as he fucked me. "Oh God, Joel, you feel so good. Yah. That's it. Oh, yah. I've wanted you - just like this. I'm in all the way. Can you feel me – all the way up inside you? Is it as good as you imagined? Do you like having my dick all the way up your ass? My big, hard dick in your tight, beautiful ass!"

His strong thrusts and sexual commentary were making me crazy! I felt a building, demanding sexual tension. I pulled his head down so that our faces were touching, side by side. He started speaking into my ear. "Are you ready to cum, Joel? Do you want it now? Is my big, hard dick going to make you cum?"

Ben raised himself back up on his knees, allowing him to stroke my cock while still hammering into me. I couldn't take it anymore, and I came – shooting cum all over my chest and up to my neck. The feeling of physical ecstasy mixed with desperately needed relief was overpowering.

I pinched my ass muscles together so hard that I could feel the contours of Ben's cock inside of me. He started pounding in and out even faster. I looked at his face. He had his eyes closed as he kept repeating, "Oh yea! Fuck yea!" Soon, I heard him say, "Yea. Almost there! Yea, I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna cum!!!" And then, I got to watch him reach orgasm. His climax was so intense that he grunted and shouted out loud. He continued fucking me hard, and then, he gradually slowed down. When he finally stopped and rolled off of me, he let out a huge sigh. "Oh, fuck! That was so good," he said.

He took some time to catch his breath. I turned onto my side, looking at Ben. "Wow!" I said.

"That was pretty cool, wasn't it?" Ben said while still panting a bit.

"I feel like I know you a lot better now," I said.

"Well," Ben replied. "Letting someone stick his dick up your ass can have that effect."

"What a charming observation!" I said sarcastically. "Not to mention your delightful choice of words. It's a good thing that I have such a big crush on my painfully blunt, but handsome and sexy, Director."

"And, as it often happens, that Director has a big crush on his cute, young, leading man," Ben said. "But, my cute, young, leading man, it's time to go back to the party."

We cleaned up as much as possible using the sink and paper towels in the storage room. Ben put the used condom in the trash, burying it in an empty container of floor cleaner. When we finished getting dressed, we checked each other to make sure our clothes didn't look sloppy. We shared the task of putting the furniture blankets back in place.

Ben headed toward the door, and I stopped him. "One last kiss? I asked.

"Of course," he said. He took me in his arms, hugged me tightly, and kissed me like he meant it.

I removed the folding chair out from underneath the door knob, and I put it back where I had found it. As we went through the storage room door, I told Ben, "You go back to the party. I've got to get some things out of my car."

I went to the parking lot and saw a light coating of snow on the cars. I brushed off my car and moved it to a different parking space. I didn't want anyone noticing that my car looked as if it hadn't been driven. After all, I had said I was going home to get the presents for the DCOPA volunteers. I got the gifts out of the trunk where they had been all along.

I brought the wrapped gifts into the party room, and I set them on a small table near the dance floor. The members of the wait staff were just starting to invite the guests, table by table, to the dinner buffet. I looked around the room, and I was surprised to see Ben at a table with my parents.

"I can't believe how brazen that man is," I thought to myself. "Ben's really got balls to go sit with my parents – minutes after he just screwed their son!"

Kevin, Sara, Heather and Melissa had saved me a seat at their table. I sat down, and moments later our table was called up to the buffet. My Dad had kept his word, and there were lots of 'real teenager' foods – deli sandwiches, chicken wings, meatballs in barbecue sauce, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, creamy salads, a taco bar, and a variety of bottled beverages. And, there were two separate tables filled with several different kinds of deserts.

I had not eaten since breakfast. And considering my activity level, both during and after the performance, it wasn't surprising that I felt ravenous. I think I filled my plate with too much food. When I got back to our table, Kevin said, "Looks like you really worked up an appetite going home for those presents."

I ignored Kevin's comment. Sara changed the topic of conversation to planning out the details of the after dinner program. We agreed that Sara would be the Master of Ceremonies, and she would call people up to present the gifts. Of course, it was decided that I would give Ben his gift. I think almost everyone knew that Ben and I had grown close during the show.

After dinner, Sara started the program. She thanked the many people involved in the show, as well as my parents and the 'chaperones' for our party. Her words of praise and appreciation for the volunteers from DCOPA were perfect – heartfelt and witty. She called Melissa up to present a desk lamp, shaped like a spotlight, to Chris. Heather presented Jennifer with a heart-shaped Swarovski pendant. Kevin gave Jerry a Ralph Lauren duffel bag. All three volunteers seemed to like their gifts, and all of them spoke about what a great experience they had working with everybody in the cast and crew.

When it was my turn to present Ben's gift, I became very emotional. I was still high from the amazing sex that Ben and I just had. I could still feel some lingering tingles from my powerful orgasm. I was sad that the play was over and excited that Ben and I were going to Ann Arbor together on Friday.

I told the audience about what I considered to be Ben's best qualities – his dedication to theater, his gift for story-telling, and his ability to teach and to inspire young actors and technicians.

When I asked Ben to come up, he received loud applause which turned into a standing ovation. I presented him with the gift I had personally picked out for him - a Hugo Boss, burnt-orange sweater with a high collar and two-button placket.

I knew Ben wasn't shy, but I was still surprised when he took off his shirt and pulled the sweater on over his tee-shirt. Then, he modeled the sweater for the audience as if he were on a runway. Ben stopped several times and struck a macho pose. Each time, he gave the audience a provocative, manly smile. Everyone in the room, including the wait staff, found it hilarious. Ben received another round of applause, as well as a great deal of laughter.

I tried to get Ben to say a few words, but he resisted. When I pressured him, he just bent over into the microphone. "My thanks to everyone at Joliet," he said. "I loved working with you. I had a wonderful time. And, I love my new sweater!" He gave me a hug and then sat back down at his table.

When I went to bed that night, I thought about what a great cast party it had been – especially for Ben and me.

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