<strong>Aaron Streiburg<br/>In his car outside, about to enter<br/>Tags: Anyone</strong><br/><br/><div class="floatright">(http://i1180.photobucket.com/albums/x401/callmecapone/77-dress-shirt-tie.jpg)</div>He sat in his car, staring intently at the house. He had been in this massive parking lot the benefactor liked to call a driveway, a flask of Jack in his hand. He'd need to refill it before going in there as he had already almost polished this one off. Maybe it could provide him with some of that old fashioned liquid courage.<br/><br/>The invitation was clear. There was no surprise, no lie, nothing. It was an orgy, and Aaron had been invited. He didn't get the invitation in time to participate in those online chats to ask questions, he had been on tour signing more copies of that vampire book he had written a few years ago. God, the sheer number of pre-teen girls that seemed to obsess over him because of some stupid piece of crap he wrote just for a pay check. He wasn't sure if he preferred the grown women or was more frightened of them. One woman showed him her canines that she had filed to look like vampire fangs.<br/><br/>He had opportunities to cash in on his new found fame by taking women to bed, but for some reason he never seized on the deal. It had been a few years since his last book, the finale of that stupid vampire series. Now that he was free to write whatever he wanted, he just couldn't find his muse. Everything he wrote was utter crap.<br/><br/>It was after his tour, sitting at his desk, that he noticed the invitation.<br/><br/>Aaron sat here, looking at the mansion, uncertain of why he came. Well, he<em>knew</em>why. He wanted to give it a try, deep down. He wanted something without consequences, without biting him in the ass later. Anonymous fun where no one gave a damn about who you were, just that you had genitals that worked.<br/><br/>Fuck it.<br/><br/>He refilled his flask, stuffed it in his pocket and stepped out of the car. The alcohol was a bit stronger than he thought as that first step seemed to fall beneath him, almost causing him to trip forward. He quickly regained himself, using his car for balance. Okay, so he wasn't completely sober. That was fine. He'd been like this before. He just had to concentrate a bit more on walking, and...there. That wasn't so bad. Before he knew it he had approached the front door, about to knock when he noticed a sign welcoming him right in. With a shrug he turned the door knob, stepping in. The sound of moans was already echoing through the halls, almost forcing him to turn back.<br/><br/>Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he mustered some of that liquid courage back up and stepped in, closing the door behind him. He followed the signs (and sounds) down the hall, stepping into a lounge where most everyone seemed to be gathered. He felt a bit silly wearing a simple blue button down shirt with a red tie and slacks now. Most everyone else was in something more fancy, more casual or wearing as little as possible.<br/><br/>He opened his mouth to introduce himself to...well, to whoever, but he couldn't help but feel as if he would be interrupting everyone. So he shut his mouth and found himself a free open seat on one of the many couches, making sure not to sit directly beside anyone already entangled in the arms of another. He'd just observe for now, get a feel for the etiquette. Learn how he is expected to behave.<br/><br/>Hopefully his pants already bulging with an erection was part of etiquette.