Dirty Zero

his hand and whispered, “Please come,” and I almost did, right in my pants. Without waiting for me to react, he straightened and headed for the door. I watched as he left the break room, happy as can be, while I sat there with an aching cock, a forgotten comic, and dirty fantasies I didn’t think could possibly come true.
    What was all that low talking and hand on my face about? Was he gay? Did he like me? Yeah right! Even if he was gay, he wouldn’t want a skinny nerd like me. There was no way Brian actually wanted me ‘like that’. With that happy thought, I stood up to get back to my office. As soon as I looked down, I realized I had a raging hard on. Apparently, the memo that Brian was not into me never got to my cock. Awesome. Now I’d have to slip into the bathroom and rub one out before I could get back to work.
    ****
    The next Friday, I found myself standing at Brian’s front door dressed as Moltenman. My costume was high-end and matched the comic’s exactly. Moltenman wasn’t my favorite hero, hell he was really a sidekick, but he was the only character I liked who had a scrawny body like mine. Of course, he didn’t need a big body when he could control water, turning it to solid ice instantly, or heating it so it was hotter than lava. And he could fly. Actually, the physics of it made no sense, even by comic standards, but the outfit was cool.
    In the light it was black with deep blue waves running up my legs and across my midsection. In the dark, the blue waves glowed and flickered, looking more like flames with orange hues. Trust me, it’s an awesome costume. The mask had the same color theme, but only covered a thin strip of my face around my eyes. I had to wear my contacts with the mask. I didn't wear contacts very often, so my left eye kept twitching and getting a bit irritated. Great, my eye would probably get all red and I’d look like I had pink eye or something.
    I rang the bell before someone driving by crashed because they were staring at the freak dressed up like a superhero lurking outside a nice house in a ritzy neighborhood. I rang the bell, twice. All of a sudden I feared someone would shoot the crazy first, ask questions later.
    The door opened, revealing a helpless looking young woman, she was smiling warmly at me, unaware of all the potential dangers around. Simpleton. Not very creative either, her outfit was just low-rise jeans and a low-cut tank top. Typical tramp in distress.
    Her smile faded. “Excuse me, did you just call me a typical tramp?” Oh god, did I say that out loud? Being socially retarded sucked. I either get tongue tied or forget how to think quietly.
    “U-um n-no I meat, meant...” Idiot, I told myself, be Moltenman. “I said tropical amp. You know, like electric, 'cause you look so alive.” I gave her a stern look, so she’d know I meant business. I mentally sighed when she smiled again, I can’t believe she bought that.
    “Oh, I do, don’t I? You must be Wyatt, Brain said you were cute but he didn’t say you were so sweet. I’m his sister, Olivia,” she said holding her hand out; I gripped it firmly and shook it twice. “Please, come in we're just wrapping up in the living room,” she stopped to giggle a little. “I mean the party is just getting started, in the living room, head on in.”
    I admit I haven’t been to a lot of parties before so I don’t have much to compare with but walking into the living room I was pretty sure this wasn’t a party. It certainly wasn’t a costume party, unless they were all dressed as sluttier than average innocent civilians. There were about 12 to 15 women sitting in a semicircle. They were all facing towards the front of the room, where a woman was standing. She was holding up a giant double headed purple dildo, looking closer I could see a table behind her lined with sex toys. My left eye twitched a few times. Brian tricked me into dressing up and coming to a Pleasure Party. The ladies noticed my entrance; the woman in the center stopped talking and just stared at me. Like in slow motion, they all turned to me one at a time, all looking at me curiously while I looked around the room, wondering if it was too late to escape.
    One woman finally broke the silence, “Holy Shit! I didn’t know you got a stripper for this!” She used her hands to gesture me towards the center of the room. I didn’t move. “Come on, sweet-thing, start dancing.” By this time the other ladies had joined in and where