Saturday night, Rastle and Trent headed out to the big city in my dad's car. We headed straight for Le Club, where all the hottest people hung out. There was a line around the building, but the bouncer lifted the rope for Rastle. He lowered it on me.
"Hey, we're together," I protested.
Bouncer said, "Back of the line."
"No, we really are togehter. Trent's my best friend," Rastle said grabbing the rope from the bouncer. He started to leave, "Where he goes, I go."
"Is there a problem here?" asked a well-dressed middle aged man who must have come out of the club.
"Uh, we were just leaving," Rastle said.
"Why? You've only just arrived," said the man who was probably the manager or owner.
"Your bouncer said there was only room for me, and I won't go without my best bud Trent."
"Trent? Do come in. Forgive Nathan here, he's bad at counting, we have room for both of you," the man said grabbing my elbow and then Rastle's and escorting us into the club. "For the inconvenience, first drinks are on me." He handed us each a red drink ticket, and stepped back outside to talk to the bouncer.
"Thanks, Rastle," I said.
"Hey, I didn't do anything. Look free drinks, let's grab them and then scope out the ladies."
"Sure thing. I'm going to stop at the -you know" I nod toward the restroom sign next to the front door.
"You've gotta have the smallest bladder of any guy I know!" laughed Rastle, "I'll scout the place, and meet you at the bar."
------------
I pulled the black orb from my pocket, and gazed into the glowing pool. "I wish that I was sexually irresistible, and that both Rastle and I would get laid tonight by the hottest people here."
"Yes, master, you have wished it, so let it be done," said the spirit woman.
-------------
I woke with a hangover and felt sore all over. The previous night was a blur. Flashing lights, cold drinks - lots of cold drinks. Guys and girls both kept buying them for us. I guess I should've wished sexually irresistible to women. Even Rastle was making the moves on me.
That must've been what happened. I was going to clarify my wish, when Rastle started to grind me against the wall with his bulge, and the orb got pushed out of my pocket. Rastle caught it, and said, "I wish you'd just go with the flow tonight, and enjoy the evening, what happens will happen, and we'll only remember the parts we like, then you can worry tomorrow."
He put the orb back in my pocket. He shoved it in deep and squeezed my junk until it was hard through my pocket.
"Rastle?"
"Hey, you gotta advertise your goods, hot stuff, if we're both going to get some action tonight."
From the looks of the room, and it wasn't mine or Rastle's a lot of people had gotten lucky. Rastle was naked in bed next to me snoring. He was holding a pink bra in his hand as he slept. Scattered on the bed, there were black panties, red panties, a flesh tone thong, a black leather thong with a crotch pouch too big for any woman.
"Man, Rastle, I hope these are yours."
"No, they're mine," said a male voice from the doorway next to the bed, "But you can keep them as a souvenir, Trent."
Trent spun around and put his feet on the floor, and stared. It couldn't be. It was that 20-something actor who played high school kids, and he was naked and hitting on me. This was so wrong, but it was so hot at the same time.
I wasn't thinking clearly, so I stammered, "Can-n you auto-gr-graph it?"
He laughed, "Sure thing."
"I'll autograph my panties too, but you have to autograph my boobies," said the actor's fiancee.
I couldn't help but reflexively jerk my elbow up and down, and think: Yes, double score.
He emerged with a gold ink marker from his pile of clothing. He signed the thong's pouch, and then lay across my naked lap and handed me the pen. "Now autograph my butt," he requested.
I could see from the redness and wetness that apparently I had topped the actor, or maybe we had topped each other? I noticed a burning pain from between my own butt cheeks, as I signed the star's buns. There were moans of others awakening in the suite. An arm appeared over the sofa, definitely feminine. I stared in amazement as the actor repositioned himself kneeling in front of me with his head in my crotch.
"One for the road," he said with a laugh, "I'd have you fuck me, but you might smudge your signature."
His fiancee reappeared, and climbed over him pushing me on to my back. She buried her tongue in my mouth, while my head rested on Rastle's lap. The weight of my head was making Rastle's dick hard. Like the song says, "it's kind of hard when she's ready to go...and I'm not a dweeb."
At some point Rastle joined us, as did a couple other girls. It was hot. It was our first orgy. It stopped suddenly, I had just pumped another load into actor boy's mouth, when the sun beam cut through the opening in the curtain. It was morning.
The actor rose with this mortified look on his face. I could tell he still had cum in his mouth, and could decide whether to swallow it or spit it out and risk being seen with it on his chin. He silently snatched up his clothing and dashed into the bathroom. His fiancee was weirder. She screamed and slapped me.
"What was that for?"
"I'm sorry, we must've been drunk or got some bad drugs. I've never, he's never, we -"she paused and said, "We were never here."
"Right, you were never here, but you and your boyfriend might want to cover yourselves thoroughly until that permanent marker wears off." I pointed at my autograph on her breasts.
"Oh, my!"
He boyfriend emerged free-balling in his white gauze trousers. He was shirtless as he bent over to tie his shoes.
"Oh, my gawd, he signed your ass too!"
The unhappy couple left with him wearing his hat and shirt and with his jacket tied around his waist. The others picked up their clothing and left silently, except for Rastle who continued to massage my shoulders.
"Rastle, I -"
"No, need to say anything, buddy. We both had too much to drink, and had way too much fun. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas."
"We're in Vegas?"
"Yeah, the rockstar flew us all here last night in her private jet. She crashed hours ago. Maybe we should leave quietly before she wakes." He said as he pulled on his pants.
"How do we get home?" I asked thinking about the car sitting at Le Club miles from Vegas.
"Not to worry," Rastle said flashing a wad of hundreds.
"Where'd you-" I asked.
"We'll talk about it on the flight home. We gotta get going."
I dressed silently. I was too sore and happy to really talk or think about what had happened. We jet setted.
As we sat in our seats on the Southwest Airlines flight, Rastle put his earbuds in, and cranked his mp3 player, and closed his eyes. A stewardess stood next to me, and asked, "Is everything satisfactory..."
The voice was familiar, and she finished her sentence, "...master."
"Oh, yeah," I answered, "Not exactly what I had in mind, and I don't really remember all of it."
"The other master's wish." She nodded and winked.