It was much hotter than I expected.
Reaching the top of the stairs, we still didn’t know what we were getting into. Lusty moans emanated from the darkness down the passageway.
Curious and a little nervous, we moved toward the unmistakable sounds of passion to find some couples making love on a large bed. Naked, the closer woman was taking a pounding from a fit young man, himself lost in his work.
In the darkness, other couples were playing. Wandering among them in awe, the sexy action unfolded before us at every turn.
Here a girl going down on her lover; there a young woman tasting her friend while being taken from behind.
My temperature spiked as we moved further through the maze.
Finding a dark corner, my lover pressed me into a wall with a forceful kiss. Pawing my chest, he worked my bra free, unbuttoned my pant and pushed his hand inside. I pulled open his fly as he explored my wetness.
A man approached in the darkness. My lover invited him to join us, offering up my breasts and holding my panties open for him to explore inside.
His fingers found me just as another strange hand slipped down the back of my pants, then up between my legs. Widening my stance, I let this new stranger caress my folds, without so much as looking at him.
I was in heaven.
The man behind me place my free hand on his thick cock. I stroked him while holding my lover. My lover moved my hand to the other man’s long slender cock.
Stroking both was an erotic sensory experience, unlike anything I’d done before. Comparing them, their differences and sameness opened a world of possibilities. The man kissed my neck from behind as his fingers penetrated me.
My lover encouraged me with his touch as I let both men enjoy me.
My legs buckling from the semi-squatting position I’d adopted, finally forced me to stand. We moved to an open bed nearby and the men stripped me as I lay me back before them.
I sucked them in turns as my lover devoured me.
I was burning with lust and needed my lover to put out my growing fire as I serviced them.
A small crowd gathered around. Men, still dressed, manhood in hand, eagerly waited their turn. Circling like sharks, hungry to taste the flesh before them, they watched as I writhed on the bed.
It was single men’s night at the club and they were there to satisfy those women who needed…more.
My lover moved from between my legs but wasn’t replaced. With a man in my mouth, one in each hand, and another tugging at my nipples, I couldn’t see through the forest of arms, legs and cocks around me.
I lost confidence without knowing where my lover was. I panicked a little and called for him. I felt safer knowing he was there.
“Darling? Where are you?” I called for him, as I sat up to look for him. “I can’t see you.”
The men looked too, some not knowing who he was. They sensed the ride coming to an abrupt end if he wasn’t found.
“Teresa. I’m here.” He said, sitting down, caressing my leg. “I was undressing.”
“I would never leave you”
I knew he wouldn’t.
“You know I wouldn’t leave my girl.”
Calming again, I started back at them. As I did, a man said something to another, but I couldn’t hear him. The other man replied,
“Ask him,” pointing to my man, “he’s the master.”
Well then.
My lover nodded in response to the first man, 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 squirmed under his touch, still bewildered by the attention.
My lover climbed over me, lowering himself to my mouth as he did. Taking him in, the man beside me moved to mounted me. Pushing himself into me, his slow, powerful thrusts began to fill me as I satisfied my sexy man.
When the first man finished, another readily took his place; and then another; and another. My lover waved them on, letting them to take me, as I sucked him.
“I’m going to come,” he said, preparing me for his flood.
His rhythm changed. He backed off to give me more room to manage his orgasm in my mouth. A considerate and gentle man, he never gags me or tries to bury himself in my mouth when he cums.
He’s the only man I’ve swallowed.
Finished, he lay down, and held me as he encouraged me as the men continued to take their turns.
I don’t know how many there were, but not more than five or six. One even came back a second time. Of them all, I liked him the most.
He was more attentive than the others. They used me for their own pleasure and moved on (which is what I wanted), but this man. Ooof.
“You’re so beautiful, I love your pale skin,” he said as he sucked and kissed my nipples. His olive Mediterranean complexion contrasted with my fair tones, as he rode me.
“Thank you so much. You’re so beautiful, I’ll come back if I may. Please wait for me.” He said, retreating into the darkness.
Middle-aged and considerate, this knew a woman needed to be appreciated and adored far better than the younger men did.
The last one was a quiet, good looking ebony-skinned man in his early twenties — he was less than half my age! Though smaller in stature, he was well built, fit and muscular. Wide across the shoulders, he narrowed to a V at his slender waist.
Lifting my leg straight up, he pressed his chest into it and pinned me there. Pumping rhythmically from a kneeling position, sweat glistened on his powerful shoulders used me. His forceful pace was unchanged over the five minutes it took him reach completion. He felt wonderful inside me.
And with him, I was done. I was exhausted, having been used beyond my wildest dreams. I’d fantasized about being used in front of a crowd, but never expected it to happen.
Erotic doesn’t describe that night. I was their queen and they worshiped me.
Sometimes I still can’t believe what happened that night. I’m overcome with feelings of shame at having my fantasy filled, and have mentioned it to my lover.
“I was a dirty whore,” I said.
“No. Don’t say that.”
“You were beautiful and sexy. Everyone wanted you.”
“Everyone wanted to go home with you but I get to have you,” he added.
“Really? Do you think so?” I shyly asked.
“Yes.”
“You say the nicest things to me. I’m so lucky,” I said.
“No, I am,” he answered.
But I’m the lucky one, and that’s why I love him.
That wasn’t my favorite night though. Our first night always will be —
But then, water always tastes sweetest after a drought —
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Originally published at http://tjconwayauthor.com on September 18, 2020.
Teresa J. Conway © 2020