This is my first time posting here, and on Reddit for that matter. Please let me know if I should have done anything differently. I’m not particularly clued in about the workings of Reddit yet.
So I’ve been thinking it would be nice to write down some of the filthy adventures I’ve had over the years. Especially back in the days of Craigslist, or when Tinder was still used for dating rather than promoting your insta account. I recently discovered this subreddit and have been enjoying all the stories for a while now. Figured it was my time to contribute.
As a short introduction. Most of these stories played out in my mid thirties. At that time I was in an open relationship and my social life was made up of a nice group of open, kinky people. One couple in particular, who we had met through Fetlife, had become very close friends to us. We’d all take drugs together and go out to techno nights. We were always pushing the boundaries and always acting as total enablers.
This particular story plays out in a regular night club in London. Our friends had decided to move away to the other side of the world. So we were down to see some of our favourite dj’s play and then save them off after the weekend.
We had been out the night prior, seeing Marcel Dettmann, one of our favourite dj’s from Berlin. After we came back from the club we’d spent the morning in our hotel room, railing progressively larger lines of ketamine until we couldn’t tell up from down. After that we’d hung around in a local coffee shop for the afternoon.
As we’d come down from Scotland, and I was selling, I had a lot of friends of friends wanting in on cheap high quality gear that is common up north. I funded my whole trip in a few hours, just sitting there sipping class flat whites and talking rubbish with my pals. The mood was high.
The big name of the next night was techno maestro Jeff Mills. He can be rather hit or miss. Some of his sets I’ve seen have been lukewarm. But that night he was on form, building his wall of sound to a frantic crescendo of energy that just kept going and going and going. Most of that night was spent in the front row where I usually made my home, dancing, worshipping. The music, combined with the mdma, ghb, and mushrooms produced a state of utter bliss that I still consider to be the highest I’ve ever been. I made out with my girlfriend, and with both of our friends. We all made out. We groped. We misbehaved. Some clothes came off. I have a clear image of my girlfriend sitting cross legged on top of a speaker, topless, with her arms skywards, screaming at the top of her lungs, the sound inaudible over the layers and layers of beats, bells and beeps that makes up Jeff’s futuristic sound. But just to show how intense it was and how far down the rabbithole we were.
I had noticed a girls a few times who I found very attractive. She didn’t have this or that. I’m not going to go into bra sizes or whatever. To be honest I can’t remember any of that shit. But she had something… a sort of dirty brazenness in her eyes that made me notice her over and over again. It really sparked my drug addled mind. I was too busy dancing though, to waste my time hitting on strangers that in the end I wasn’t going to home with. I was there to be with my friends.
Then it came towards the end of the night, that moment when the music is still going but the lights are starting to come on. Suddenly the girl with the dirty eyes was dancing in front of me. Clearly making eye contact, or looking down and appreciating my topless body. Maybe she’d noticed my glances and decided to come check me out. I don’t really know.
It’s hard to describe the sort of primal power that comes to you, or at least to me, when I’ve been dancing like a motherfucker for days on end. No fucks were given, at all. So let me tell you this. I stepped a bit closer to her and I grabbed her hair. Yes. I just grabbed this random stranger by the hair. And I pulled her towards me.
My friend actually saw this happen and commented on it later. How he was baffled to see me just grab someone from the crowd by her hair and pull her towards me. He said it was hot as fuck. Although looking back now, a bit older and a lot more sober, I think I it’s also a bit questionable. Maybe times have changed. Maybe I have changed.
So I pulled her towards me by the hair. Showing her who’s boss in a rather impressive display of male peacockery. She was game though, and we came together to make out intensely.
Briefly however, as soon she grabbed my hand and started pulling me off the dance floor. I was sort of hesitant to leave the music as it’s the last few minutes and the last few minutes are kind of sacred. But I was also very curious what she was pulling me away for. Curiosity won, as it tends to do for me. We went for a walk through the cavernous catacombs of the club. I remember noticing there that the sun had come up and some light was shining in through dirty windows up above us. Not a word was spoken between us. I stopped her once for another dirty make out but she seemed keen to keep moving.
Why became clear soon enough when she marched me into the women’s bathroom. I remember clearly all the stricken looks I got in the few seconds it took to walk from the entrance to the cubicle. Although, to be fair, they were not as stricken as when I came out a few minutes later.
She shimmied down her jeans and sat down on the toilet. She started taking a piss, while simultaneously taking my cock out of my trousers and gobbling it down. Straight to the point I guess. I realised now that this chick was probably even more wasted than me, mr wasted himself. But I was too far gone myself to think that this was maybe a questionable situation in terms of consent.
The scene unfolding in front of me wasn’t particularly hot to be honest. Just…filthy. Ok I guess it was hot because it was filthy. And with ghb titillating my synapses my cock didn’t really give a shit anyways and rose up to meet this new person, this new mouth, throat. I wasn’t gentle with her. And she didn’t care. I fucked her in the face in exactly the way that you would expect from the kind of guy that drags random women off the dance floor by their hair. I was aware that there’s probably ten, twenty random strangers now trying to have a pee, washing their hands or fixing their make up, all to the sounds of someone spluttering and gagging on cock. The thought definitely spurred me on. I loved it, honestly.
Then she got up, looking particularly unsteady. I remember her eyes looking glazed over and half open, her make up running down with cock induced tears. She climbed on the toilet, sitting on her knees, bent over, holding on to the cistern.
“Fuck me.” she said. They were the first words spoken between us.
I pawed her ass a bit. And her back, appreciating her body. I was aware that things were probably about to go downhill. “I don’t have a condom. Sorry.”
She looked back at me. So wasted, so horny. “I don’t mind. Please just fuck me.” She drawls.
Now you have to understand. That if you have a partner. And a bunch of other sex partners. And so does your partner. And so do your other sex partners. The choice to have safe sex isn’t just to take care of yourself, but it’s also to take care of everyone around you. So we operate within pretty strict boundaries. Oral..ok. We take the risk. Penetration. No. Not ever without protection.
“Sorry that’s not how I roll darling.”
She got up immediately and looked disappointed. “Well that’s too bad.” She mumbled as she starts pulling up her jeans. Maybe she was in a rush to go find some other wasted fucker before the night was over.
I felt a bit disappointed and my drug addled mind was refusing to relinquish this situation just yet so…
“We can do something else.” I tell her.
She stops. “What do you mean?”
I wrapped my hand around her throat and pushed her back against the rickety wooden partition. Her eyes rolled back under her heavy eyelids. She was into this. I kissed her. Rough hunger. She was sort of grunting.
“Let me show you.” I shushed in her ear.
I stepped back, holding her pinned against the wall. Her jeans were stuck midway up her thighs. And her top was bunched up around her waist. Her face was turning red above my hand as I took a moment to paw her tits.I was trying to take as much pleasure from her body as I could manage with just my hands. Then I slid my fingers down her belly and into her pussy. I started fingering her. Now a pussy can seem so sensitive and the impulse is to go slow and be careful. But I did none of that shit. This was proper porn style g spot bashing.
Now you have to understand that at this point the chatter and din of the ladies bathroom had died down to complete silence. All I, and everyone around us, could hear was this girls strangled groans and the squelch squelch of my hand fucking her. She gets louder and louder. Making unintelligible grunting sounds through her constricted throat. Soon she started bucking. I bashed her womb harder. Then she let loose, coming like a motherfucker on my hand. She started wailing and squirting her juices all over the place. It was like a fucking waterfall. She was soaking her jeans, and clattering liquid all over the tiled floor. Oops I hadn’t accounted for that. Although I probably should have.
She eventually came down and I stopped my ministrations. “Holy fuck.” She managed to say between laboured breaths.
“There you go. Hope you enjoyed that.” I said it while zipping up my trousers over my still hard cock.
She didn’t reply. Too busy trying to compose herself I guess. She was just kind of staring down at her sodden jeans as if her eyes had the power to dry them. Fuck. I came out with an awkwardly mumbled goodbye before I throwing open the door to the cubicle and extricating myself from the situation.
After which I obviously found myself immediately surrounded by two dozen women, all staring at me. Some were looking mighty impressed, others mostly disgusted. I guess they will all have their own stories to tell about what went on. I tried to keep my cool as I walked out. But it’s hard to look cool with a boner obscenely tenting your trousers. And if my exit was awkward, I could only imagine how it would be for miss Waterfall.
I managed to get back to the dancefloor for the last few minutes of Jeff Mills’ set, Dancing like no one is watching. And like I hadn’t just made a random stranger squirt all over herself in the ladies room. It was the last boogie of the weekend. And, actually, the last boogie with my great great pals who left the country the day after. It was an emotional affair.
And when we hit 8am and we were being corralled out of the club in a great big throng of people fate had it that we ended up right next to my sloshed friend from earlier. She ignored me completely, just having fun and being all over her friends. I’m gonna go out on a limb here and assume they weren’t aware that the soaked jeans they were hugging weren’t exactly soaked in water or beer.
I pointed her out to my friends and told them the story. Except one, none of them had even realised I’d been gone. We all had a good laugh about it. These are the kind of filthy adventures that we thrive on after all. On that day is when they started calling me “Magic Hands”. It’s a nickname that has stuck around for years and years. Although very few actually know the story behind it.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/cf4oz5/mf_magic_hands_a_very_brief_encounter_in_the
You call this brief, hahha