Note to my readers: This story features, among many other things, group sex and bisexual male sex. In case any of that isn’t your thing, you’ve been warned 😉
I’ve always skewed towards an omniscient narrator, but in this series I’m experimenting with first-person narration. It creates interesting constraints and opportunities when you can only get inside of one character’s head. Each chapter will have a different narrator from the prior one. In this fifth chapter, the narrative voice switches from Ryan to Jun. I hope you all enjoy it.
It’s not necessary to read all the chapters, in order or otherwise. Each story stands on its own. But if you enjoy any of them, you’ll probably enjoy all of them, and you might enjoy reading them order.
All characters are in their 20s or older.
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Ryan and I were watching porn together. I was on all fours, and he was kneeling behind me on our king-sized bed, balls-deep inside of me. I loved the feeling of his cock when it entered me, and his bony hips when they slammed into my butt.
The clip we were watching involved a young woman who was taken to a porn movie theater — do those even exist any more? — by an older, kind of gross man. As they sat in their seats the man began to expose and fondle the girl’s breasts, and then pulled up her skirt and fondled her vagina over her panties. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock and the girl knelt in front of him and started sucking him off. As these events unfolded, the other men in the theater gathered around them, most stroking their cocks. The gross man gestured them closer, and one of them knelt behind the girl, pulling down her panties and pressing his cock into her while she continued sucking the gross guy.
“Ooooh — we’ve done that!” I purred, and wiggled my bottom against Ryan’s hips.
“They’re just getting started. This scene is going to get wild.” Ryan answered.
Ryan kept fucking me as I watched the entire theater full of men have their way with that girl. They came at her one, two, sometimes three at once. They fucked her from behind, from above, from below, on the floor, on the seats, against the wall. They came in her pussy, in her ass, in her mouth, on her face, on her tits, on her tummy.
“Jesus Christ!” I exclaimed at some point.
“Too sleezy?” Ryan asked.
“No — so hot!” I panted.
As the camera pulled back and the last three men fucking that girl shot their loads onto her while her gross-looking friend watched, I started coming hard on Ryan’s cock. I was bucking my hips and my pussy was rhythmically gripping his penis within me. My orgasm must have set him off — that happened a lot — and Ryan came inside of me as the video dissolved to credits. I fell to the side and Ryan reclined next to me, using his fingers to stir the pool of his semen all around my labia and over my clit. I jerked from the intense sensation of his touch.
“That was something!” I said breathlessly.
“You like that, huh?” Ryan responded.
“That girl getting fucked in all her holes over and over again while those sleezy guys jerked off, watching, staring, waiting for their turn — wow. There were so many of them, and they just kept coming. They all wanted her and she was just their little fuck toy. So intense! Why have we never watched that before?” I inquired.
“That specific video?” Ryan asked.
“Stuff like that — lots of guys, submissive women — what is that kind of porn called?” I responded.
“Gang bang porn?” Ryan said, his intonation rising as if he weren’t quite sure, or perhaps as if he expected I should already know.
“Is that what it is? I want more of that!” I answered. “Would you ever do that with me?”
Ryan furrowed his brow and looked at me suspiciously. “Take you to a gang bang?” he asked. “Would you want to?”
“I don’t know — I hadn’t really thought about it.” I replied. “Is it all that different from having sex with you and Paul?”
Paul was our older lover — a funny fat old man with, as luck would have it, an enormous cock. My sexual relationship with Ryan had effectively begun under Paul’s eye, because he let us use his apartment for our trysts until we got our own place. It started with him just watching Ryan and me fuck, but in short order he became our lover. The three of us would meet for sex two or three times a week, sometimes at his apartment, sometimes at ours.
“I don’t know,” Ryan said. “I’ve never done it. I suppose it’s probably similar, but it would last a lot longer.” He chuckled.
“Where do people do that? Are there really porn theaters like that?” I wanted more information.
“I’m not sure,” Ryan offered, “not around here, for sure. Also seems kind of sketchy. Fucking a bunch of strangers in a porn theater seems like a great way to catch an STI. I think there are probably better ways to do it.”
“Like what?” I pressed.
“I’ve heard about sex clubs — they have those in bigger cities.” Ryan said. “I think people are tested at those, or at least they have to wear protection. I suppose a person could set up their own gang bang using dating apps or whatever. Then you could impose whatever safety measures you wanted — vet the guys in advance, require testing or condoms, use a nice hotel, or whatever.”
“It seems like you’ve thought about this a little bit.” I elbowed Ryan in the ribs jokingly.
“Honestly,” Ryan offered, “I’ve never talked to anyone about this — not even you — but it’s my single greatest fantasy.”
“Seriously?” I flipped onto my side to face him. “Why have you never told me?”
“I don’t know.” Ryan answered. “I guess things with you and me and Paul are so great, so I don’t need to press the envelope. And some part of me was afraid you’d recoil. I guess I’ve just been dumb about it.”
“You don’t ever have to be shy with me, baby!” I hoped that sounded more like encouragement than admonishment. “What about it excites you?”
“The thought of my girl being used by a big group of men just gets me crazy hard.” Ryan said.
The thought of being used and watched by a big group of men was getting me crazy wet. Displaying myself — no *being* displayed — to a room full of men was an electrifying thought. I wondered what was the maximum possible number of eyes that could fall on my exposed, naked, writhing body at one time. And maximum number of hands. And the maximum volume of semen. I moaned at the thought of it. ‘Are we really going to do this?’ I thought. I was hoping that we would. God, I loved this kinky man I had found.
“So you want to watch? Or to participate?” I asked.
“Yes.” Ryan chuckled. “Both.” He rested his hand on my naked hip and stroked it affectionately.
“Do you want to make it happen? Do you really want to do it?” I asked. I paused and Ryan did not answer right away. “Because I do!” I exclaimed.
Ryan kissed me passionately. I took that as a yes.
Over the following few weeks, gang bang dirty talk became the staple of our encounters. In our free time, Ryan and I started researching possible avenues to realize this fantasy. We set up an account on a kink dating app to see how that would work. We were deluged with suitors — far too many to respond to them all. About a quarter of them seemed to have potential, the rest seemed like weirdos or flakes. We tabled the app idea, and started to research clubs.
The nearest big city was a ninety-minute drive away, and it had a club — it was called the Power Station. Subtle. We read everything we could find online about it. It seemed like a viable option — low hassle, safe, comparatively anonymous.
At this point we raised the idea with Paul. The strength of his immediate enthusiasm was unexpected, but welcome. The three of us began to plot our little road trip. Transportation wasn’t a problem — Paul and Ryan both had cars. Scheduling was a little tricky with all our classes and exams, but there were several potential dates that could work. The hang-up was scripting the experience. Paul and Ryan were both happy to go and just see what happened. I, however, wanted some choreography agreed upon in advance.
Then one afternoon Ryan and I were having sex at Paul’s apartment. Paul was on his back with his enormous cock buried deep up my ass. I was atop him, reverse cowgirl, reclining over his fat furry belly. Ryan was between Paul’s knees fucking my pussy. When Ryan came and withdrew, his semen gushed out of me, slathering Paul’s pendulous hairy balls. At that instant I knew exactly what I wanted to do at the club.
“Guys! Guys!” I exclaimed. “This is it! When we go to the Power Station — I want to do exactly this! I want as many men as possible to fuck me just like this. I want to sit on Paul’s cock, my knees spread wide, my pussy lips spread wide, and invite one man after another to climb up and fuck me just like Ryan just did. Oh my god, I’m going to come just thinking about it!”
Ryan ran his hand over Paul’s gooey balls and then stroked my clit with his come-covered fingers. I came instantly. Ryan stared raptly at my engorged splayed pussy pulsing in front of him. Paul grunted as my throbbing anus clamped hard around his cock. Paul began thrusting fast from beneath me, quickly emptying himself into my ass — a sensation I had grown to adore.
Over the days that followed, transportation was secured (we decided to take Paul’s car: our car was newer but Paul’s was much bigger), a date was selected two weeks hence, and we had developed enough of a script for me to feel comfortable.
Sort of. Can one ever feel “comfortable” about stripping naked and getting fucked repeatedly in front of a room full of people? Comfort is the wrong word. My prior sense of apprehension had mutated into an excited and nervous anticipation. It was hard to get the plan out of my mind, and I felt like I was walking around in a constant state of arousal. The butterflies danced in my stomach every time I thought about it, which was approximately all the time.
I was begging Ryan to fuck me even more often than usual. I needed to nurse the fantasy. I had to come several times a day — sometimes by myself. More often with Ryan, and every time he whispered in my ear about strange men holding my legs apart while others thrust into me, I would come immediately.
On more than one occasion over those weeks, when Ryan was tied up with coursework, I paid unscheduled visits to Paul’s apartment. As long as we’d all been a thruple, or whatever we were, I had never grown tired of the feeling of Paul’s huge cock inside me.
Our gang-bang fantasy had transformed me into a cat in heat. I was insatiable.
Finally, the evening arrived. I must have been driving Ryan nuts, squealing “Are we really going to do this?” and “Oh my god I’m so excited!” and “I can’t believe we’re really doing it!” Ryan’s patience was laudable. He confessed that he was as nervous and excited as I was, although I doubted that was possible. After tossing a change of clothes into a small duffel we were ready to go. Ryan was wearing black jeans and a dress shirt. I wore a form fitting black mini skirt and a tight white t-shirt, nothing else other than shoes. I had obsessed about our attire, which was, frankly, stupid: none of our plans for the night involved clothing.
Paul picked us up at 8:00 PM in his Oldsmobile Delta 88. The car was older than either me or Ryan by a couple of decades. But it had a slick burgundy paint job with pin stripes, and huge leather bench seats both front and back. We all had done our due diligence on the club, but we still talked through our plans as we drove — Paul and Ryan in the front seat, me in the back.
“So they’ll make us put our phones in lockers as soon as we get there.” I said. “Then they’ll take us to the co-ed locker room where we can secure our bags and clothes in lockers. There’s a bar on the entry level, and I sure could use a drink! Then I want to explore the place.”
“Are you going to get naked right away, or check the place out for a while first?” Ryan asked me.
“I don’t know — what about you guys?” I responded.
“I’m not keeping my clothes on any longer than I need to.” Paul said with a chuckle.
“I read that they give every guest a towel — I’ll probably put my clothes in our locker and just wear the towel, at least for starters.” Ryan chimed in. “I might enjoy escorting my gorgeous naked girlfriend around the place. Would you let me show you off?”
“I would let you do anything you want to do.” I answered, leaning over the seat-back to kiss Ryan on the nape of his neck.
We talked and joked and listened to music as we drove, until the rolling hills became warehouses and office parks, which then became skyscrapers, parks, and glittery neon lights. We passed through the center of the city and into an industrial area. Paul turned down a side street and parked.
“We’re here!” Paul announced.
Ryan and I stepped out of the car and looked around. The neighborhood seemed dirty and a little seedy. There was almost nobody around, but there was a short line of people queuing at a steel door next to a loading dock attacked to a four-story brick building. I could barely make out the musical thumping of a bass track. We walked together to the building and took our place in line. In front of us were several single men, one couple, and (I was surprised to see) two women holding hands. Everyone was dressed smartly and simply. The man in front of us turned around to say hi and extended his hand.
“My name’s Mike.” He said, shaking Paul’s hand, then Ryan’s, then mine, as we introduced ourselves.
“First time here?” Mike asked, looking me up and down.
I liked his eyes on me. The short line shuffled closer to the door.
“Yep!” I responded. “Are you a regular?”
“I don’t know about a regular — I’ve been here a few times.” Mike answered. “You’re all going to have a lot of fun. It’s always a good time. Very safe environment.”
“That’s good to hear.” Ryan said.
We had reached the front of the line. The door opened, and Mike stepped inside with a wave, “See you on the other side!” He said.
The line had grown behind us — perhaps eight or ten more people, mostly men, had joined the queue. The door opened.
“Next!” Said a tall woman clad in black. She was covered in tattoos, had jet black hair and wore bright red lipstick.
“We’re all together.” Paul said.
“Come on in, then.” She responded, holding the door for us.
“Welcome to the Power Station!” She said cheerfully after the door had closed behind us. The music was much louder know, but it was still easy to talk and be heard. “First time here?”
“Why do people keep asking us that?” I laughed.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” The woman answered. “There’s no entry fee for any group that includes a woman, so your visit is free! Yay! All guests must show a recent STI screen to get a wrist band, otherwise condoms are required. We do enforce that — any person without a wrist band spotted engaging without condoms will be ejected.”
“We all have tests.” Ryan said — holding out the three precious pieces of paper we had acquired earlier that week.
“Great — I also need to see your IDs.” She said, inspecting the IDs and the test results. She affixed a green band to each of our wrists.
“The rules are pretty simple,” she continued, “nobody touches anybody without consent. Any violation of that rule will also get you booted. I’ll take your cell phones and check them here. No photos or recording of any kind is permitted. We ask that people clean up any messes that they make. There are stacks of towels everywhere, so don’t worry about losing these. There are also condoms and lube in every room — help yourself. Beyond that, enjoy yourselves — here are your towels and padlocks for the lockers. The locker room is right through here — you’re pretty early so you won’t have any trouble finding three empty ones. Past the locker room is the bar. There’s a big shower in there that you’re free to use as often as you want to. Nudity and sexual activity are permitted everywhere except here in the foyer and outside the club. When you’re done for the night, we ask you to leave quietly and quickly. The dance floor is upstairs on the second floor, the orgy room is on the third floor, and the theme rooms are on the fourth floor. Feel free to explore. Club employees are wearing ‘staff’ t-shirts — they’re here to help, so reach out to them if you need to for any reason at all.”
“Thank you!” I chirped. The three of us accepted the towels and locks and passed into the locker room, as we heard the front door open and the woman yell “Next!” to the next people in the line.
It was just like a high school locker room. There were half a dozen other guests in the process of disrobing. We selected a row of three empty lockers and I sat down on a bench between my two men. I peeled off my t-shirt and skirt, tossed them in my bag, and locked it in my locker. I was completely naked in a matter of seconds. Ryan was still unbuttoning his shirt and Paul was struggling to remove his shoes.
“Obviously I need to help you two.” I said.
I knelt in front of Paul and untied his shoes. Then I unbuttoned every button on his shirt, pushing it over his hairy shoulders. I loosened his belt and lowered the zipper on his trousers. I nuzzled my face against his half erect penis.
“You can do the rest, Paul.” I teased. “You’re next!” I said, moving over to Ryan.
I quickly stripped Ryan of his clothes and shoved them into his locker. I stood in front of him and hugged him to me. He wrapped his arms around me, running his hands up and down my back, thighs, and butt.
“Let’s get this show on the road!” I commanded.
Paul was completely naked, his huge cock hanging down between his thighs. Ryan was more modest and elected to wear his towel around his waist.
“Are you going to show me off now?” I purred.
Ryan took my hand and led me into the bar, Paul right behind us. A few people were drinking at the bar, all men. It looked like everyone had a green wristband. Most of the men were nude, though some were wearing towels. Most of them turned to look at me as we entered, my breasts, my belly, my bush, all exposed and on full display. My stomach was doing somersaults — I had never been naked in front of more than two people at once, and those two were standing on either side of me. I took a deep breath and we stepped up to the bar.
The bartender was a handsome man, perhaps twenty-five years old — he was wearing a neon orange jock strap, Doc Martin boots, and nothing more. “What can I get for you three?” He asked, obviously experienced here and unphased by the nudity all around him.
“Red wine.” Answered Paul.
“Same.” Said Ryan.
“Tequila shot.” I responded, pulling myself up onto a bar stool. The smooth vinyl felt cold against the lips of my pussy.
I slammed back my shot. “Another, please.” I said to the hot bartender, as I spun on my stool and looked around the room. Most of the men’s eyes were on me — and unlike in the real world, they were not shy at all. They did not look away when I looked at them. I realized that one of the men standing at a small cocktail table on the other side of the room was Mike, the guy from the line out front. I waved and beckoned him over.
Mike snagged his drink and strode towards us. His towel was over his shoulder and his cock swung from side to side as he walked. It was as big as Ryan’s, not as big as Paul’s.
“Hi there!” Mike said as he approached. “Paul, Ryan, and Jun — do I remember it right?”
“You’re good with names.” Paul responded and took a sip of his wine.
My first sociological observation from the inside of a sex club was this: everybody checks everybody out, and nobody cares. All three of us were scanning Mike up and down — his healthy cut cock, his chiseled abs, his smooth tan skin, the curve of his butt. Mike, likewise, was checking us out — Paul’s hairy gut, and the enormous cock dangling beneath it, Ryan’s smooth muscles, my bush. Mike seemed especially enchanted with my bush, black, straight, and wispy.
“So you three are fitting right in here, I see!” Said Mike. “Most first timers look so nervous — at least at first. But not you! I admire your moxy.”
“Thanks,” said Ryan. “We did our research so we’d know what we’re getting into. And we’re pretty comfortable around one another.”
“Nice — well, well done!” Mike responded.
The second observation of the night occurred at that moment: naked people don’t know where to put their hands. Mike folded and unfolded his arms awkwardly.
“You need to find something to do with those hands.” I teased Mike.
“Yeah, I need pockets.” He joked. “Unless you’ve got ideas.”
I was ready to get this show on the road. I held my hands out to Mike, my palms up, and he laid his hands on mine. I caressed the muscles around his thumbs and his wrists. “I can tell you like my bush, Mike.” I said. “Would you like to touch it?”
“If it’s ok, yes. Very much.” Mike looked to Ryan and Paul for approval.
“Look at me, Mike.” I ordered. I rotated his hand and pressed his fingers into my pubes. He began to rake his fingertips between my short hairs, allowing them to graze over my clit, eliciting shivers. I could see his cock start to harden. Paul’s too. I assume Ryan was getting aroused as well, but I couldn’t tell for sure through the white terry towel wrapping his loins.
For a moment I couldn’t believe that I was naked in a bar full of naked strangers, one of them fingering me on a barstool. Then I remembered that that was what we were here for and I chuckled softly.
Mike began to run the tip of his middle finger down and up the length of my slit, already moist and blooming. “So what kind of scene are you all looking for tonight?” Mike asked. I liked this guy — straight to the point.
I was horny and emboldened. “You see that anaconda?” I looked towards Paul’s stiffening cock. Mike nodded.
“I want to see how many guys can come in my pussy while that thing fucks my ass.” I said. “What kind of scene are you looking for tonight, Mike?”
“Uhm,” he stammered. “That scene sounds pretty good to me.”
“May I?” I asked, honoring club rules while reaching towards Mike’s stiffening cock.
“Please.” He responded.
I wrapped my fingers around his cock and stroked it gently, feeling it grow in my hand. Mike began to slide his middle finger into my pussy as I stroked him. I moaned. I was so enjoying writhing on his finger in front of all the other guests in the bar for a minute I almost forgot that Paul and Ryan were there. They were flanking me, enjoying the show as much as everyone else. I leaned over to Ryan and sucked his lower lip into my mouth, kissing him aggressively. With my free hand I reached down to stroke Paul’s cock.
My boyfriend’s tongue was in my mouth. Our lover’s cock was in my hand. And some fit stranger named Mike with a nice cock was fingering me while I massaged his penis. A small crowd ogled the four of us and their eyes were at least as arousing to me as any of the rest of it.
“Mike,” I said breathlessly, “I have two questions.”
“Tell me.” He whispered into my ear.
“Do you want to fuck me tonight?” I panted.
“Yes. What’s the other question?” Mike responded.
“Can you show us around this place first?” I asked with a smirk.
“Of course!” Mike responded.
I drew Mike’s hand from my crotch and licked my juices off his fingers. I slid off the stool, leaving a gooey pool where I had sat. Remembering the house rules, I grabbed a cocktail napkin and wiped it off.
“Let’s go boys,” I said, “Mike is going to give us a tour!”
I took Ryan’s and Paul’s hands in mine and pulled them from their stools. Mike led the way as we exited the bar, and we strolled down a hallway that seemed interminably long. In one extended stretch of the hallway the solid wall gave way to a floor-to-ceiling window that looked in on the shower room. Nobody was showering at that time, but I could imagine the fun of being on either side of that glass. We marched up a flight of stairs. Several of the men from the bar followed us at a distance.
The second floor was, as the host had said, a dance floor. It must have been early — there were no more than ten or fifteen people in the massive room. The walls were painted black, and a disco ball spun over the center of the room, casting a glittery meteor shower of lights across the ceiling.
In one corner a naked man sat on a stool under a black light applying iridescent paint to a woman’s genitals. He had already festooned her breasts and torso in a glowing abstract rainbow of body paint.
At least in this space there were some women — perhaps a third of the crowd. Almost everyone was nude. The body paint girl and the girls twirling on the dance floor were the first other naked women I had seen that evening. I realized at that moment that, other than in the gym locker room or in porn, I had never really seen many other women naked at all. It was enervating to see them in this environment, with sex in the air and presumably on everybody’s mind. They seemed so free. ‘Is that how I seem?’ I wondered.
“This floor is mostly dancing.” Mike told us over the thrum of the music. “People do have sex in here, but I’m guessing this is probably not the spot for y’all.”
“We heard about an orgy room and theme rooms.” Paul said. “Let’s check those out.”
We proceeded down another long hallway, up another set of stairs, and through a doorway into another large room, but this one had a completely different vibe. The walls were painted pumpkin orange and there were diaphanous tapestries hanging down much of the perimeter of the room. The lighting was low and soft.
The floor was painted purple, and there were mattresses strewn all over it. Perhaps a hundred of them. They were not arranged in rows — the distribution looked random, but there were clearly defined pathways between them, allowing access to the entire room. All of the mattresses were covered in crisp white sheets. As the host had advised us, there were bowls of condoms and lube everywhere.
Off to one side of the room there was a group of several people — I think it was five, but in the low light it was hard to tell — engaged in some kind of group activity I could not quite accurately describe. Suffice it to say that sex was being had by all of them, at once.
There were two couples fucking on opposite sides of the room. Around them both, at a respectful distance, small groups of several men had gathered and were stroking themselves while watching. I had a vision of myself double penetrated and surrounded by horny naked masturbating men. The thought produced a little tingle in my clitoris and I could feel the moisture between my legs. This was going to be a night to remember.
“This is where most of the sex happens.” Mike said to us, sotto voce. “These mattresses are pretty comfortable. Lots of single guys show up to watch and jerk off, as you can see.”
“What happens upstairs?” Ryan asked. He had been so quiet up to that point, I was surprised to hear his voice.
“More fucking, BDSM, fetish scenes, all kinds of stuff. You wanna check it out?” Mike asked.
“Yes, if you don’t mind. I’d like to see the whole place.” Ryan responded.
Mike led us down a snaking path between the mattresses to a door on the far side of the room. The cute welps and moans of the woman fucking by the rear door aroused me. Part of me wanted to stay and watch, or join in, but I stuck with our little group.
Down another hall, up another flight of stairs, and through a double doorway, I suddenly felt like I had passed into another world entirely. Off to the left there was a huge wooden X with a naked man shackled to it. A woman in black leather brought a paddle down on his ass with a sickening smack. He whimpered and begged for more. Across the way I could see two rooms decked out like doctors’ examination rooms. There were exam tables with stirrups, doctor’s ring lights, and various medical implements. The only tool I recognized was a shiny stainless-steel speculum.
On the far side from the medical rooms there was what looked like a pair of jail cells, complete with thin padded mattresses and stainless toilets and sinks. In one of them a naked man knelt with his face against the bars while a mountain of a man in what looked like a law enforcement uniform fucked his mouth from the other side. Maybe it was the tequila, but that really got my juices running.
In the center of the first main room there was what I supposed to be a sex sling hanging from the ceiling. Around it was a circular arrangement of black wooden benches — I guessed for spectators.
Mike led us through an archway into a room that contained a large bed elevated on a platform. At each of the bed’s posts there were restraints: fur lined leather cuffs waiting for a wrist or an ankle to bind. On the ceiling above the bed there was a huge mirror.
“Here.” I declared.
“Yeah?” Asked Ryan. “I guess this can work.” He said looking around the room.
I leapt onto the bed and bounced on its springy mattress. I couldn’t believe this was really about to happen. I observed that a small cadre of men, some from the bar downstairs, some whom I did not recognize, had already congregated in the archway. I crawled to my hands and knees and beckoned Paul with a curl of my index finger.
Paul climbed up onto the bed and knelt in front of me. I wrapped my lips around the head of his thickening cock. Blowing Paul had always been a challenge because of his girth, but I just wanted to get him hard. He reached out and smacked my ass as I sucked him. I gave a yelp, but didn’t lift my lips from his cock.
As he hardened, I rose to kiss his bearded face, and I whispered in his ear “I need to you fuck me and loosen me up for these guys. But don’t come — I want you to come in my ass.”
“Don’t worry.” Paul assured me. “I took a vitamin-V with my wine — I’m going to be hard for hours.”
I squeezed his furry torso and pressed my nipples against his hairy chest. “You’re the best Paul. Now fuck this pussy!”
I laid back in front of him. I grabbed a thigh in each hand and spread my legs wide before Paul. He fell forward above me, holding himself up on his left hand while he used his right hand to guide his cock into my increasingly juicy pussy.
“Oh god I never get tired of this!” I exclaimed. “Fuck my slutty little snatch — show all these chumps how it’s done. Mike, Ryan — can each of you take one of my legs so I can free up my hands?”
Mike and Ryan each took one of my legs and pulled them up almost to my shoulders. Thank god for yoga! Paul fucked me with enormous cock like a man half his age. It was probably only five minutes, but I came over and over again, yelping, moaning, and swearing the entire time. Our audience had moved into the room to encircle the bed. New spectators had backfilled the space under the arch. There were already maybe twenty men in the room watching me and stroking themselves when I said to Paul, “It’s time.”
Paul withdrew himself from my distended pussy rolled onto his back. I rose to face the room and straddle Paul’s waist.
“Ryan, can you help with lube?” I asked.
Ryan took a bottle of lube from the bowl next to the bed and used his hands to slather it all over Paul’s throbbing cock. I bent forward so that he could apply a liberal glob to my ass hole. Then I stood over Paul and began to lower myself slowly toward his cock. Many of the spectators were wide eyed — I could tell they didn’t believe my tiny Asian ass was capable of taking Paul’s huge dick. They were wrong.
When I felt the head of Paul’s cock between my cheeks, I reached to grab it and guide it with precision to the precipice of my back door. I wanted to show our audience how much they had underestimated me, so as soon as the tip began to penetrate, I sank down hard on Paul’s cock drawing it fully into my ass in one swift stroke. The bug eyes of the guys watching were hilarious. You’d think they’d never seen a girl fucked in the ass before.
I began to rise and fall on Paul’s cock, feeling its girth stretch my anus wide, as it had so many times before. I reclined across his fat belly, his fur ticking the small of my back, my nipples pointed straight at the ceiling, where I saw us in the mirror. Wow! ‘I’d fuck me!’ I thought silently.
I began to finger my clit as Paul rose and fell beneath me. My labia was splayed wide from his earlier fucking. The men in the growing crowd of spectators were staring rapt at my spectacularly exposed pussy. I looked around the room, looking each of them in the eye. I was hungry, and they were there to satisfy my needs.
“Mike!” I called out. He crawled onto the bed beside us. “I want you to fuck me.”
Mike positioned himself between Paul’s knees and pushed my thighs apart. He pushed his face into my dripping snatch and lapped at my juices before teasing my clit with the tip of his tongue. It felt delicious, but that was not what I was here for.
“Fuck me, Mike. Now.” I commanded.
He took his cock in his hand and guided it into my well-lubed pussy. I could feel his cock and Paul’s pinching the membrane between my pussy and my ass.
“Good lord that’s tight!” Mike exclaimed.
“All thanks to Paul.” I panted. “Now fuck me hard. And whatever you do — do *not* pull out. I want you to come inside me.”
Mike was more than happy to oblige. As he pummeled my pussy with his cock I thought how strange it was that two cocks so similar in size (Mike’s and Ryan’s) could feel so different inside of me.
I stared at the mirror on the ceiling. Paul’s breadth beneath me framed my breasts and my gaping, gasping mouth. The top of Mike’s head and his shoulders obscured my view of my own pussy and thighs, except occasionally when he’d draw himself almost all the way out before jamming back into me. He kneaded my tits and pinched my nipples as his pace suggested that his orgasm was near.
For my part, I lost count of my orgasms after the first few minutes. They just kept coming in waves. My squeals must have aroused our audience which just continued to grow. It was standing room only around the bed.
Mike let out a soft roar and a grunt and pushed deep inside of me. I could feel his cock twitching rhythmically as this near total stranger shot his load into my pussy. I pulled Mike’s face to mine and kissed him softly on the lips.
“Thank you.” I whispered. “Please stay. Pick the next guy.”
Mike’s softening cock slipped from inside me, forced out by the pressure of Paul’s cock from below. Just as I had fantasized, his spunk flowed out of me and over Paul’s pendulous balls. Mike turned to face the crowd at the foot of the bed.
“Who wants to go next?” He shouted.
The looks on their faces were priceless as twenty or thirty hands shot up. Until that moment, most of them probably thought this was just a show — they had no idea that there was an audience participation component to this performance. Although I bet most of them had been hoping. Mike pointed to a guy in the middle of the crowd, and he stepped forward through the bodies to reach the foot of the bed.
“I’m Mike,” said Mike. “This is Jun, and Paul. That’s Ryan.”
“Hi Mike, Jun, Paul, and Ryan — I’m Jeff.” Said the new guy.
“Shut the fuck up and fuck me, Jeff!” I said with a grin.
“Have at it!” Said Mike, crawling off the bed as Jeff climbed onto it.
Jeff looked average in every way. Average cock, average height, brown hair, blue eyes, average body — not muscular, not fat. But oh my god could he fuck! Jeff drove his cock into my come-soaked hole and started pistoning in and out of me. Every time his pubic bone rammed into my clit, I came just a little. I reached behind him and grabbed his ass, squeezing him hard. All this while, Paul had never stopped slowly shoving his cock in and out of my ass, Mike and Ryan were holding my legs apart, and the crowd around us never stopped watching and stroking themselves. They peered luridly, wide eyed, at my crotch and the two cocks sliding in and out of me.
I felt dizzy, exposed, embarrassed, proud, ashamed, slutty, powerful. Such a whirlpool of emotions I had never experienced. And I came, again and again.
With the next couple of participants after Jeff, we introduced ourselves. There was a Joe, and a Luke, I think. But after the first several men crawled between our knees and shot their loads into me, we suspended all niceties. After Jeff, I did the picking — I’d just point and say “You!” I rapidly lost count. Man after man added his spunk to the waterfall of semen gushing out of me and pooling around Paul’s balls.
At some point I looked to Ryan, who stood loyally at the side of the bed, gripping my right ankle, the entire time. “I love you — thank you!” I mouthed at him. He squeezed my leg affectionately. I reached out to pull him closer, and he climbed on to the bed beside me. “In my mouth.” I said.
Ryan stood on the mattress next to me and Paul. I reached up to pull his aching neglected cock into my mouth. One lick, another lick, and almost instantly my boyfriend grunted, grabbed the back of my head, and began to spray his come onto my eager tongue.
“Someone is excited!” I panted after swallowing Ryan’s load. He smiled and stroked my cheek while Paul and some stranger continued unabated their abuse of my ass and my pussy.
After a few more men came in me — I’m honestly not sure, it could’ve been fifteen or twenty all told, maybe more — I needed a rest. I had been fucking nonstop for well over an hour. My pussy was getting tender, and my hamstrings were cramping. I drew myself up off of Paul and turned onto my hands and knees to give the crowd a glimpse of my gaping ass hole and the come streaming down my thighs. Then I flopped down to snuggle in the crook of Paul’s arm, reaching down to stroke his cock.
I had never seen so much come before. Poor Paul’s scrotum was floating in a small pond of the stuff. I used it to lube my hand and stroke Paul’s cock. Ryan bent over and kissed me on the lips, nibbling softly first at my upper lip, then the lower one.
“I love you both, you know.” I said to them. “You make my dreams come true.”
“Right back at you – I love you so much.” Said Ryan.
“You’re both very special to me.” Said Paul, gently caressing my tits as I stroked his cock. To someone else that could have sounded avoidant, but I knew he meant that he loved us.
Paul sat up and crawled onto me, straddling my hips, his come-slathered balls resting on my bush. I kept stroking him harder and faster. It only took a couple more minutes before I could sense his orgasm coming on. He grunted his familiar grunt and blasted a shot of his semen across my entire chest and face. The second shot landed on my tits, and the third on my belly. I kept milking his cock as the last drops of his orgasm spread across my stomach. We were all spent.
We collapsed on the bed to the hoots and cheers of the men around us. A little part of me felt bad for those who hadn’t gotten off. I considered helping a few of them out, but the volume of cock being jerked around me was a little overwhelming. I made an executive decision to pull the plug on our scene.
“Show’s over, boys.” I hollered. “Thank you all for helping me realize my fantasy. Have a great night!”
A mix of cheers, boos, and “thank yous” could be heard as Paul and Ryan and I grabbed some towels, wiped off, and mopped up as much as we could of the come and lube that we had slathered all over the mattress. Each of them took one of my hands, and we walked back out into the fourth-floor foyer. We must have arrived early when we had first come upstairs — all the theme rooms now were full. Prison scenes and kinky doctor visits were being acted out with great enthusiasm.
A muscular man was strapped into the sex sling while a slightly built blonde woman pegged him with an enormous dildo. Several spectators observed from the benches that circled the sling, all touching themselves as they watched. A second woman stroked the man’s cock while taunting him, “You like that huge cock up your ass, don’t you, you little sissy.”
Having just spent an hour with Paul’s cock buried in my ass, part of me wanted to chime in, but I held my tongue, and we made our way back down to the third floor. Unlike earlier, now half the mattresses were in use — every possible combination of men and women were fucking, sucking, and stroking their way to bliss. A cacophony of moans and orgasmic screams bounced off the walls.
We strolled between the puppy piles and down to the dance floor, where at least fifty people were dancing, mostly naked, to some vintage R&B. Many were making out, some were fucking right on the dance floor. More than one woman was on her knees blowing one or more lucky men. The body painter was brushing day-glow ink on yet another naked woman — several of his earlier canvases were dancing around the room. I wondered whether he’d been at it non-stop since we saw him earlier.
We didn’t stop to dance. Instead we took the stairs down to the ground floor bar. There were a couple of dozen people there now, including several women. I ordered another tequila shot and big glass of water from the bartender in the orange jock strap. A pretty young brunette woman sat on the next barstool, perky breasts at attention, a towel around her waist.
“I’ve never been here before.” She said to me, sipping from a glass of white wine.
“Are you here alone?” I asked, looking around for a companion.
“Yeah,” she said. “I don’t know anyone whom I could ask to do this with me.”
“Well now you do. I’m Jun.” I extended my hand to shake hers. “You’re going to have a blast, I sure did.”
“I’m Catherine.” She offered. “What did you get up to?” Catherine asked, scanning me up and down a little more, and glancing at Ryan and Paul standing behind me.
“I let twenty or thirty guys fuck my pussy while that thing,” I gestured at Paul’s still erect cock, “filled my ass. Took over an hour. We had quite an audience.”
Catherine’s eyes widened in amazement. Two hours earlier, I, too, had been a sex-club newbie. Now, all of a sudden, I was sex club royalty.
“Oh my gosh!” She said. “Someone was saying a while ago that there was a gang bang on the top floor — was that you?”
“Probably.” I said. “I didn’t see another one.”
“Oh wow — you’re so brave!” Catherine gushed. “I don’t think I could do that.”
“You’re brave just to be here. I think you’re brave enough to do anything you want to do. What is it, exactly, that you want to do?”
“I don’t know — I didn’t really have a plan. I just wanted to push my boundaries and check the place out.” Catherine bit her lip.
“Well, nobody is going to make you do anything you don’t want to do.” I said. “I wish we weren’t on our way out — it would be fun to roam around and play with you.”
“That would’ve been so fun!” Catherine enthused. “Maybe the next time.”
I had been looking at her pretty eyes. She raised them to meet mine. There was a long pause as we studied one another. I had very little experience with other woman at that point in my life, but I was also open minded. And Catherine was very pretty. And it really seemed to me like she needed a gentle nudge. ‘What the fuck,’ I thought, ‘I’m going for it!’
“May I touch your breasts, Catherine?” I asked. “They’re so beautiful.”
“Oh, gosh, uhm — yes, sure! Thank you.” Catherine stammered.
I reached over to cup her breasts in my hands, and I twirled her tough little nipples between my fingertips. She gasped. I brought my face an inch from her right nipple.
“May I?” I asked, sticking out my tongue and wiggling it side to side.
“Mmmm — please!” Catherine purred. She was warming up quickly.
I sucked and nibbled on Catherine’s nipples, first the right, then the left. She moaned and whimpered as I did, and slid her hand down her belly right to the top edge of the towel around her waist, where she scratched at her taut belly.
“Why don’t you lose that towel, Catherine?” I suggested.
She opened the towel and it fell from her thighs to hang over the barstool beneath her, exposing a smooth bare pudendum. The pink nub of her clit was emerging coyly from between her lips. I continued to suckle her breasts and she began to finger her clit.
“Do you want me to eat you?” I whispered to her.
“I… I do. This feels so good. But here? In front of everybody?” Catherine’s shy side had resurfaced.
“Here. Now. In front of everybody. Look at their eyes while I lick you.” I instructed.
I stood, I spun Catherine’s stool to face into the open room. I looked around — almost everybody was watching us. I recognized at least a couple of the men who, shortly before, and been on top and inside of me. I knelt before her, pushed her knees apart, and snaked my tongue between the moist lips of her labia and as deeply into her as I could. She tasted sweet and tangy. Delicious.
“Oh! God!” Catherine exclaimed, pulling her hands up to cup her own breasts as I went to town on her clit. “Oh fuck, Jun!” She moaned.
Catherine dropped her left hand to the back of my head and pulled my face into her crotch. I alternated long slow strokes up her damp engorged lips with rapid rhythmic flicks of the tongue over her twitchy clitoris.
I couldn’t see what was happening in the rest of the room, but Ryan and Paul were seated on either side of Catherine with their cocks pointed straight up into the air. They were enjoying my little performance almost as much as I was enjoying it. My own juices were flowing again and running down my naked thighs, and I was sure every single person in the room could see.
That disorienting emotional swirl of exposure, fear, shame, pride, power, and lust filled my belly again as I imagined a bar full of eyes all glued to my dripping sex while I pleasured this girl. My third and final philosophical epiphany of the that evening struck me at that moment: there is strength in submission.
Catherine’s moans grew louder and more persistent. She brought her right hand down to my head, and threaded all ten of her fingers through my hair. Her hips began to buck against my face and she pulled me against her pussy. Catherine tasted delicious when she came. I couldn’t figure why I had spent so many years enthusiastically swallowing my male lovers’ come without ever tasting any woman’s nectar other than my own. It was like the first time I had tasted champagne.
Catherine let out a yowl and pinched my head tightly between her thighs as the spasms of her orgasm forced her hips to twitch against my mouth. She relaxed her legs and I sat back on my heels, admiring my handiwork as her pussy pulsed and contracted in front of me. I wiped my mouth on my arm. The bar burst into applause. I stood and turned to face the room, giving a little courtesy and a bow.
I turned back to Catherine. I stood between her legs and gave her a warm hug and a lingering kiss on the lips.
“Does this happen often?” I asked the bartender, who was rubbing his cock through the thin fabric of his jock strap.
“Sex in the bar?” He replied. “Every night. Standing ovations for sex in the bar? First time I’ve seen it. Well done!”
“There’s nothing like the adulation of an appreciative audience.” I joked. “I don’t suppose you have a pen and a piece of paper?” I asked him.
The bartender set a pen and a pad of pink post-it notes on the bar behind Catherine. I broke my hug and reached around her to write “Jun,” my cell number, and a heart on the top sheet.
“I’d love to come back here with you some day. Or just hang out, you know — out in the real world.” I said, peeling off the note and handing it to her. “Call me?”
“I’ll call you — I promise.” Catherine said, still a little breathless.
Catherine kissed me again on the lips. She spun around to write down her own number and handed it to me.
“I hope to see you soon.” She said.
I squeezed her hand, and gave her a wink, as I moved towards the locker room, Paul and Ryan in tow. Before returning to our lockers, we all needed a shower. The shower room was like an open high school gym shower with a glass wall. Unlike earlier, there were two or three other people rinsing off, and a handful of people watching and masturbating on the other side of the glass.
One of the bathers was an older woman — maybe forty or fifty, very fit. She was lathering her chest and bush while facing the glass. The men out in the hallway were stroking themselves furiously as she spread her thighs and rubbed the soapy foam soap into her pubes and over her pussy.
‘This place is an exhibitionist’s dream!’ I thought to myself.
I didn’t want to steal her audience, and I really just wanted an actual shower, so I claimed a showerhead on the far side of the room. Paul and Ryan took the two next to me.
“Can I wash you, baby?” Ryan offered.
“I would love that — I’m exhausted.” I answered, luxuriating in the hot spray pouring over my head and down my limbs.
Ryan lathered up the soap in his hands and massaged it over my shoulders and arms. He kneaded my back and my round butt. I pressed back into his welcoming palms. Ryan lathered his hands again and gently washed my crack and my tender back door. He took my shoulders and turned me to face him. Kissing me softly, Ryan washed my breasts and chest, my stomach, my crusty come-coated bush, and ran his palm gently between my legs to clean my well-used labia. It felt delicious to be pampered like this.
I looked to the window and most of the voyeur jack-off crew was once again focused on me. I wasn’t even performing any more! Even in a club full of people actively fucking and playing out kinky scenes, apparently a sexy Asian girl taking a shower could still draw a crowd.
I looked over at Paul. He was rinsing the soap from his hairy chest and lathering his balls, which had been completely bathed in other men’s come during our big performance. Paul’s Viagra was clearly still working: His monster cock had not flagged an inch, still pointing straight out in front of him.
“I wish I could take care of that for you, Paul.” I lamented. “There’s just no gas left in my tank.”
Paul laughed. “That’s fine, darling. I can deal with it later. Unless Ryan wants to help me out.”
I love watching Ryan service Paul. Something about watching two men whom I love suck one another’s cocks tickles some mysterious place in my pussy (or more likely in my brain) that nothing else ever touches.
I gently pushed Ryan towards Paul. Ryan, always the willing partner, wrapped his fingers around Paul’s cock and began to tug. Paul laid his hand on Ryan’s shoulder. Ryan immediately understood Paul’s wordless request. Ryan sank to his knees with his back against the wall under Paul’s shower and parted his lips. Paul stepped forward and pressed his cock into Ryan’s mouth. Ryan was better at sucking Paul than I was — I could barely get my lips over the head. Ryan could at least take several inches. Paul began thrusting in and out of Ryan’s mouth, and Ryan reached down to stroke his own cock, again hard and throbbing.
I gently massaged my clit as I watched the watchers on the other side of the glass. Their eyes would dart back and forth from my crotch to Ryan’s mouth and the broad shaft between his lips. I fucking loved watching those men watching my boyfriend servicing our lover. What a lurid scene. Yet in this environment it seemed stripped bare of all its inherent obscenity. We were in a building full of freaks getting their freak on. There was no judgment here — only lust and acceptance. It seemed almost wholesome.
The pace of Paul’s thrusting accelerated and he emitted those familiar grunts of his. He pulled out and stroked his own cock furiously, blowing his load on Ryan’s face and chest. Paul’s orgasm pushed Ryan over the edge and shot his own load onto the shower floor beneath Paul’s.
I reached to help Ryan to his feet. I bent forward to lick the last drops of come from the tip of Paul’s cock, and then Ryan’s. I drew both of them to me for a group hug. I don’t know if I had ever felt as fully “me” as I felt that night. The catharsis of this place was powerful. I heard muted clapping again and looked to see our audience, yet again, applauding us. Multiple streams of come were running down the outside of the window where our spectators had ejaculated on the glass.
We finished our showers, dressed, retrieved our phones from the host, and left. I’m glad Paul was there to drive, because Ryan and I were both exhausted. We cuddled in the back seat of Paul’s Olds as Paul hummed along to classic jazz for the ninety-minute ride home.
About an hour into our trip home, my phone buzzed. It was a text message from an unknown number, but one that looked familiar. I opened it to see a message from Catherine: “Hey — it’s Catherine from the Power Station. I’m so glad I met you — thank you for making me feel comfortable. I saw you all in the shower — wow! After you left I went upstairs and got spitroasted in the orgy room. Twice! {fist bump emoji} I already can’t wait to go back.”
I replied to her text, “Look at you! Like a duck to water. You go girl! {fist bump emoji}”
She responded with a kiss emoji, followed several moments later by a photo I recognized as her pussy, lips moist and spread wide by two fingers.
I responded with a tongue emoji and tossed my phone back into my bag.
“I think we might have found our tribe.” I said to Ryan, smiling broadly, before I fell back to sleep to the rumble of the car’s tires, my head in Ryan’s lap.