It was much hotter than I expected.
We didn’t know what to expect as we arrived at the top of the stairs. Lusty moans emanated from dark corners and down passageways, yet their makers hidden.
Curious and a little nervous, we moved toward the unmistakable sounds of sex. We found two couples making love on a large bed. All naked, the closer woman was taking a pounding from a fit young man lost in her.
In the darkness, other couples were playing here and there. We wandered amongst them in awe, watching the sexy action unfold.
Here a girl going down on her lover, a woman eating her friend while taken from behind. My temperature started to rise as we moved further into the maze of alcoves and nook, each offering a new scene.
Finding a dark corner, my lover pushed me to a wall and started kissing me. Feeling my chest, he worked free my bra, unbuttoned my pant and sliding his fingers down my underwear. Tenderly exploring my wetness as I opened his fly.
Stroking him, I saw a man approached out of the darkness. My lover invited him to join us, offering my breasts to him as he held my panties back for him to explore.
His fingers found me, as another hand slip down the back of my pants and up between my legs. Widening my stance, I left him room to caress my folds from behind.
I was in heaven. The man behind placed my hand on his thick cock. I stroked him while holding my lover in my other hand. But then my lover moved my hand to the other man’s long slender cock.
Stroking them both was a sexy sensory experience. Feeling them and their differences and sameness opened a world of possibilities. The man behind me kissed my neck as his fingers worked me from behind.
My lover stroked my skin and encouraged me. Letting both men enjoy me.
My legs started to buckle from my semi-squatting position, so I stood, and we moved to an open bed, where the men undressed me.
Both joined me, and I sucked them in turns as my lover devoured me. God, I was so hot. I needed him on me to sate my growing passion as I serviced both men with my mouth and hands.
A small crowd of men gathered around. Men, still dressed, with their manhood in hand. They circled like sharks, sensing blood in the water.
It was single men’s night at the club, there to satisfy those hungry women who needed a little more.
My lover moved from between my legs but wasn’t replaced. With a man in my mouth, one in each hand now, and someone tugging at my nipples, I couldn’t see through the forest of arms, legs and cocks around me.
Losing confidence without knowing where my lover was, I freaked a little and called his name. I always feel safe with him and needed him there. He came quickly and reassured me.
He’d gotten undressed and not abandoned me.
One man said something to another, but I didn’t hear him. The other replied,
“Ask him,” pointing to my man, “He’s the master.”
My lover nodded in response to the first man’s question, who then lay down beside me. Pressing his firm, smooth fingers into me, the others withdrew to give him space.
His fingers were amazing. I writhed under his touch, still bewildered by their attention.
My lover climbed to my head and lowered himself to my mouth. I took him in, as the first man mounted me.
Pushing himself into me, his slow, powerful thrusts filled me as I satisfied my man.
When the first man finished, another replaced him, and then another, and another. My lover was waving them on, allowing them to take me, as I sucked him.
“I’m going to come,” he said, preparing me for the flood.
His rhythm changed. He backed off, giving me room to take his load. A considerate and gentle lover, he’s never gaged me or bury his cock in my mouth when he orgasms.
He’s the only man I’ve swallowed.
Finished, he lay down and held me and inspired me as men continued to take me.
I don’t know how many there were, but not more than five or six, including one who came back a second time. I liked him the most.
He was more attentive to me than the others. They used me for their own pleasure and climbed off, and I was ok with that, but this man.
This man praised my body and suck and kissed my nipples. He complimented and thanked me when he came. He continued to play with me as we spoke. A middle-aged Turkish man knew how to take care of a woman, and I was grateful.
The last one was a quiet, good looking ebony-skinned man in his early twenties, a man less than half my age! Though smaller in stature, he was well built and muscular, wide across the shoulders and narrowing to a V at his slender waist.
Lifting a leg straight up, he pressed his chest into it and held it there. Pumping rhythmically from a kneeling position, sweat glistened on his powerful shoulders. His pace unchanging; he took four or five minutes to reach completion. And with him, I was done.
Erotic doesn’t describe that night. I felt like a queen, worshiped by courtiers vying for favor, as my lover held me.
I later described myself as a dirty whore for that night, but he stopped me. He told me I was beautiful. He was proud to be the lucky man with the sexy woman the other men wanted.
But I’m the lucky one, and that’s why I love him.
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