I lay on my back, naked, staring up at the shaved pussy of the woman squatting over me, another woman helping her masturbate. Strictly instructed not to touch, I wait passively as the rubbing on her clit becomes more and more furious. The sound of kissing, licking, and moans surround me. My belly tightening, adrenaline rushing through me, giddy anticipation building. Without warning, her lips bulge, as if her pussy is trying to turn itself inside out, and I brace for the flood that I know is coming. A cry erupts and warm fluid showers down on my face and chest. My mouth opens to drink in the nectar of her orgasm. Her partner slaps her pussy for good measure and rubs her cum into my face. I take her fingers into my mouth, greedy for every drop. A light slap on my cheek and they are gone.
Another woman approaches…
It started in an online forum. Months exploring the world of kink had left me fascinated and frustrated. Opportunities for a straight male were scarce. I was close to giving up and closing my account when an item caught my eye. An invitation to “apply” to be the plaything for a group of women. To this day I don’t know why my post met with a response, but soon I was corresponding privately with the woman whom I supposed to be the event’s organizer. Questions were asked – lots of questions. Then the inevitable – I need pictures. That was a line I couldn’t cross, no matter how desperately at this point I wanted to participate in this experience, discretion being paramount.
To my complete surprise, the woman agreed to proceed to the next step anyway – an in-person interview. We met for coffee outdoors at a very out-of-the-way spot. She was wearing sunglasses and a scarf, but from what I could discern was an attractive early forty-something suburban mom. Even more intense probing into my experience, expectations, boundaries. I felt exposed. She was firm and businesslike. Ground rules were set. I accepted. She gave me twenty-four hours to think it over.
The warehouse is in an industrial area of town, hidden from sight. My heart races as I approach an unmarked door. A discreet knock and I am ushered into a cavernous, dimly lit space by a woman other than the hostess. Used mattresses are strewn about. A small group of women mingling and sipping wine, dressed casually. I am told to sit in a chair quietly and await further instruction. More women join the throng, perhaps twenty now, maybe more.
About fifteen minutes later (although I am rapidly losing any sense of time), I hear a voice behind me, ordering me to close my eyes. I feel a blindfold being applied, and a sharp voice which I recognize as that of the hostess commands me to stand up. Suddenly hands are upon me, undressing me until I am fully exposed. I am pleased to hear comments of approval from some in the crowd. I am led to one of the mattresses and told to lay down.
Full of anticipation, but lacking any sensory stimulus, I am only partially erect. More hands, perhaps two pairs, lightly travel the length of my body. Sounds emerge around me as the other guests begin to engage with one another. Soft moans, building in intensity. An erotic charge in the air. I stiffen, fully aroused and engorged now. Something tickling my chest – perhaps a soft nest of pubic hair. I am aware of movement above me and then hear the familiar sound of fingers penetrating a sopping wet pussy. It doesn’t take long for the first spurt of fluid to hit me, the woman’s breathing heavy. Soon another, and another. My face, chest and stomach now drenched. The smell of sex everywhere.
It’s not fair – let him see, a voice says, and my blindfold is removed. I steal a glance around, for the first time taking a good look at the women in the space. All shapes and sizes, but all pleasing to the eye in their engagement with one another and the pure wanton lust on their faces. All are wearing masks. Another takes her place above me. Her bush is full and her orgasm is powerful as she empties herself on me. I am lost in a sexual haze now. A beautiful set of lips with a landing strip above. A wedding ring on her finger. It is mid-day, her husband no doubt at work and her children in school. She is screaming filth as she presses her vibrator to her clit and nearly collapses on me as she rains down on me, her legs shaking. Two of her companions help her steady herself as she makes way for another. This one is pleasantly plump, younger than the rest, with an incredibly innocent face from what I can discern. It takes her longer to reach orgasm. Perhaps she is shy. But when it comes it hits like a volcano. I am drowning in juices. My cock is ready to burst. I am delirious, losing track of who has and hasn’t had her way with me. No doubt many have come back for a second time. Screams of orgasm erupt from the mattresses around me. I am consumed by a need to cum.
