“Anal beads?”

I shuffle through the box. “Yep. A lot of anal beads. All purple and pink.”

“Lube?”

“Lots of lube.”

“Johnnies?”

“What?” I glance up at Hudson.

“Johnnies, you know, condoms, rubbers…”

“Oh,” I glance down in the box again. “We’ve got studded, ribbed, latex-free, and glow in the dark.”

“Good.”

“And clit vibrators?”

“Galore.”

“Are you bringing your friend to the party tomorrow?” he asks.

“Yeah, she’s excited. She’s a porn fanatic.”

“Sounds like my kind of girl,” Hudson smiles and points to the coffee table. “Just put the box there. You can sit over here and stuff the goody bags while we do this shoot. If I need you to mist Benson or anything, I’ll just yell at you.”

Dropping the box on the table, I nod. “Okay, but do you really have to call them goody bags, Hud?”

“That’s what they are. What else would you suggest I call them?”

“I don’t know, but goody bag makes me think of a kid’s birthday party and it’s creepy.”

“You have issues,” he says before walking off.

Seconds later I hear him sigh. “Benson! Ricardo! Would you two stop sword fighting with your dicks? We aren’t filming Peter-fucking-Pan.”

And I have issues…

I dump out the box of cellophane bags and twist ties and rummage through the box of sexual wonders. I pull out a string of anal beads, some lube, the clit vibrator, and a condom then cram them inside the bag. I don’t know why I find this strange. I mean, Hud is a porn director, so why wouldn’t he pass out sex toys as his party favors?

Setting the bag to the side, I look across the room. Benson and Ricardo are kissing. Naked. They are naked and kissing. Two hot men with chiseled abs and thigh muscles the size of an anaconda—naked and kissing. Ricardo falls to his knees, grabs Benson’s dick, and damn near chokes on it. The thing that boggles my mind is that Benson is straight. He swears he’s straight. At the bar the other night, he took a girl home—not a guy, yet, there he stands, his dick hard as fucking concrete while Ricardo rams it down his throat. Groaning, Benson fists Ricardo’s dark hair and basically skull-fucks him. “Choke on my fucking cock,” he says with a slight growl as he tosses his head back.

How, if he’s not gay, can his dick be that hard? He didn’t take a Viagra, and they were sword fighting with their dicks earlier? What the fuck? I fill another bag with the party favors and then the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin breaks the silence.

Holy fucking shit. Benson is bowed up on the bed, ass in the air, fisting the edge of the mattress as Ricardo pounds into his butthole. And I mean, he is banging into it. Balls smacking against thighs. Buried to the hilt.

This is too much for me to experience alone. I grab my phone from my purse and text Heather.

So, today’s feature is guy on guy.

OMG. You are watching this. Right now?

Yep. Dick in asshole. Balls a swinging.

I hate you. That’s so hot.

It’s weirdly hot.

Send me a picture.

No.

Please?!

No. So one guy is straight, but he’s the one getting pounded in the backdoor right now. And his dick is hard. Is that possible?

Sure. I mean, I’m not a lesbian, but give me the right girl and I could swing from the lesbian branch for a day or two.

You’re not right.

Send me a picture.

No. Google Ricardo Dong and Benson Long.

Long Dong…whose last name is Silver?

You are special, you know it?

Yep. Enjoy your assporn.

I drop my phone into my purse and go back to stuffing the bags, and the longer they go at it, I can’t help but stuff along with their rhythm.