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I’m going to tell you about an experience I had during a business trip to a European city. I’ve kept some details a bit vague but may reveal more if you ask me.
The city I went to doesn’t have much of a swinging scene, but on previous visits I’d scouted out a couple of venues and had a little taste of action. So on this trip, late one evening, after dinner with colleagues, I got in a cab and handed the driver a piece of paper on which I’d written a particular address. He drove for 20 minutes or so away from the city centre and eventually dropped me outside a large detached town house in a quiet residential suburb.
I was buzzed in at the gate and someone opened the front door. Last time I’d been here, I’d been welcomed by a suave barman with excellent English who had given me a tour of the premises and introduced other guests. (He later joined in a gang bang with considerable enthusiasm – perk of the job I guess). But this time I was met by a grizzled chap in T shirt and jeans who, while polite enough, could just about communicate enough to take my entrance fee.
The entrance led straight into a bar area. It seemed quiet. Not much happening. A few men at the bar. I sat on a bar stool and asked the very attractive and sexily dressed barmaid for a mineral water (I had drunk quite enough alcohol at dinner). She didn’t understand, and I didn’t know the local word. Impasse. Then a female voice to my left – “Water, yes?” followed by something I did not understand. The barmaid smiled and served me my drink.
Well, that was an icebreaker. I turned to look at my new-found interpreter. She was probably in her mid-forties and strikingly attractive. Pale skin; sharp, fine, rather bird-like features; huge blue-grey eyes; and black hair, drawn back rather severely. She was wearing a dress that you could only wear in a sex club. It was short, backless, black, and made entirely of flimsy see-through material. She was very obviously completely naked underneath it. I could make out a trim, fit figure with small round breasts.
“Your first time here?” she asked, in accented but clear English, fixing me with those hypnotic eyes.
“You go to other swinger clubs?”
“Occasionally.” I named venues that I had visited in the UK and elsewhere. “But, you know, I am not, like, a hardened swinger.”
“Sure. My husband and I,” – she nodded towards a tall, slightly older but athletic-looking man who was standing a short distance away, watching impassively – “we live the lifestyle, you know? bahis firmaları He is my master.”
Whoa. I felt out of my depth. She’ll never be interested in someone as gauche as me, I thought. But she smiled, and turned on her bar stool so that her thigh was pressed against mine. And she started to tell me stories from the lifestyle. Hedonists’ parades on the beach at Cap d’Agde, her as slave wearing a hessian sack and a neck chain. Bondage, shibaru, suspension. “Being suspended, it’s stronger than orgasm.” Having feathers attached to her back by needles to turn her into a peacock. It was dizzying. And I knew she was showing off (and now I think of it, the needles seemed to have left no trace at all on her back) but she was doing so in such a charming, welcoming way that I didn’t mind being shown how limited my own life experience was in certain areas.
And then she was gone and I wasn’t quite sure how. I think she went to talk to her husband, I turned to the barmaid to mime another order for water, and when I turned back, the woman, her husband and one of the guys who had been sitting at the bar were no longer there.
Oh well. I decided it would be a bit needy to go looking for her so I drank my water without rushing and sauntered up the stairs to where I knew the playrooms were. Another guy from the bar followed.
I’d been in the main playroom, with its porn video screen and enormous “bed” (the size of about 3 double beds), on my last visit. This time, a gate consisting of an iron grille had been pulled across the entrance with a notice in English and the local language: “Couples room. Single men only by invitation.” The woman’s husband was watching though the grille and did not mind the other guy and me standing next to him. Now, I knew it would have been perfectly possible to find a spot on that bed out of sight of the entrance. But the woman and the guy she had chosen had placed themselves quite deliberately in the eyeline of anyone standing where we were. They were both naked: she was lying back with her legs in the air while he, supporting himself on his arms, was banging away enthusiastically at her. Nice. I placed my hand on my own crotch to feel my cock harden. The woman moaned and gasped convincingly while her playmate quickened up his thrusts before a grimace and a grunt on his part indicated that he had shot his load inside her. He breathed deeply for a few moments, then raised himself off her while ensuring the condom did not slip off his cock. As he retreated to the back of the room, the woman kaçak iddaa stood up, smiled at those of us watching through the grille and said, “You wanna come and play?” She had let her hair down, literally, and her slim but womanly figure was displayed in all its glory.
Yes. Yes yes yes.
Her husband stayed in the doorway while the other man and I entered the room. I stripped off hurriedly, as did he. “You must use a condom, yeah?” the woman said. I was the first to get naked and while she knelt on the bed I reached down and started to play with her pert little tits. She sighed rather gratifyingly and gently took my cock in her hand. I was nervous and my hard-on was hesitant. Then the other man was naked and on the bed, and she turned away from me to go down on him, presenting her gorgeous rear end to me in doggy style.
(I should point out that the first guy she had fucked was still in the room, at the other end of the bed, watching the action and rather absent-mindedly tugging on his cock.)
I ran the fingers of my left hand down the cleft of her arse and found her cunt. She was absolutely soaking wet – not all that surprising considering how hard she’d been fucked a few minutes previously. i pushed two fingers in. She moaned with a mouth full of the other man’s prick. I started to rhythmically finger-fuck her while stroking my own cock, willing it to lose its inhibitions. She pushed back against my hand enthusiastically, matching my rhythm. She was obviously sucking the other guy deep and hard, every so often making herself gag. And every time she gagged, her vagina spasmed and pulsed around my fingers and I pushed them ever deeper.
I looked up to see her husband watching, still impassive. Then I thought of all the things she’d told me and, with my left hand still inside her, I let go of my cock with my right hand and gave a sharp spank to her right buttock. She moaned loudly: “Harder!” before getting back to sucking off the other man. I looked at the husband again. He smiled and nodded to me.
OK, then, I thought, here goes. I like a bit of spanking as giver and receiver, and while I was obviously not going to reach the heights of domination this lady was used to, I still felt I had something to offer. I pulled my hand out of her so I could stand slightly to one side and line up my stroke. Then I absolutely bombarded her bum cheeks with a torrent of blows, bare hand on bare arse, a machine-gun salvo of spanking. She writhed and moaned, mouth still full of cock, occasionally crying “More!” or “Harder!” kaçak bahis
And as my spanking got harder so did my cock. And eventually there was only one thing left for me to do. I leaned down and whispered to her, “I’m gonna get a condom and fuck you.” “Yes,” she replied. The condoms were in a bowl on a side table and I quickly unwrapped one and rolled it down my shaft. Then stood behind her, guided my knob to her cunt hole, and pushed myself inside her. Again she pushed back against me and as I started to thrust she worked with me. And still she was sucking the other guy off and when she gagged on him she gripped me inside her and when that happened for about the third time it was more than flesh and blood could do to hold back any longer and with a loud grunt I emptied my bollocks in the depths of her twat. My ejaculation seemed to go on forever, with her still gagging and pulsing.
All done. I pulled out carefully, wrapped the full condom in a tissue and threw it in the bin. She stood up. “End of party, guys!”, as she joined her husband and they went downstairs in the direction of the bar.
I wiped myself clean with tissues and started to get dressed. The other guy looked a bit disgruntled as he reached for his clothes. It occurred to me that he had probably not come. He said, “I don’t like the smell, you know? It puts me off.”
I inhaled deeply. The air in the room was indeed rich with the heavy scent of the woman’s juices. I thought, but did not say to him, why do you come to a sex club if you don’t like the smell of cunt?
Once dressed, I went down to the bar. The woman – still completely naked – and her husband were chatting animatedly with the barmaid. And then, with a big smile on his face, the husband picked up from the counter one of the long, heavy rubber mats that the barmaid put the drinks on. The woman leaned against the bar and bent over, pushing her arse towards her husband. And he dealt her an absolutely mighty whack across the buttocks with the rubber mat, far far harder than anything I had dared. The women closed her eyes and gave a deep moan of ecstasy. And he did it again, even harder, and she moaned louder.
Then she straightened up, gave me a dazzling smile and a wave, said “Bye!” and disappeared into the changing room near the front door. Her husband, approached me smiling and holding out his hand. He gave me a good, strong handshake, without saying a word. Went to join his wife. And they were gone.
I somehow managed to convey to the barmaid my request for a taxi back to my hotel in the city centre. Once in my room I made myself come again, and fell into a deep sleep, my mind full of images of the slim, pale, black-haired woman with the hypnotic eyes.
I never knew her name.
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