3rd February: AM.
I awoke this morning with trepidation, anxiety and a feeling in the pit of my stomach that acknowledged that today was going to be the day I was going to change the course of my adult life and cross boundaries that were previously thought unbroachable. At least by society, that is. I’m not going to lie, I’m by no means a prude, perhaps inexperienced, but not a prude. I love fucking. I love doing it, I love listening to it, I love watching other people do it.
I couldn’t face breakfast, not even coffee, and it was only when my alarm went off on my phone, giving me that fifteen-minute countdown before I had to leave my apartment, that I realised I was kneeling in the shower, such was the daze and level of pre-occupation my mind had been placed under. I’d washed thoroughly, shaved, and applied a number of different perfumes. It’s something I was taught as an exchange student whilst living and studying in Italy. Apply one fragrance to your ankles, another to your midriff, and another to your wrists and neck, and make sure the scents all complement each other.
As I towel dried myself, I gave my genitals a quick review in the mirror, ensuring not a stray hair remained. I was moist, I was ready. As I pulled on my jeans, and a t-shirt sans bra and other underwear, I was of a single purpose. I was going to do this. In just fifteen minutes time, I would have walked across the modestly sized centre of the city where I currently find myself engaged in further education, entered an apartment in what is considered the Bohemian quarter of the city, stripped naked and joined six females, and over thirty-five males in two hours of debauchery.
I was embarking on this activity of self-exploration purely as a result of a chance of meeting, and a drunken confession to one of my innermost fantasies. I had met T, through a friend of a friend of a friend. Several weeks beforehand, we had found ourselves part of the same group on a night out. I knew of T by her reputation, and her look. Glamourous does not begin to even broach her appearance. 5’11” tall, bright blonde, almost platinum hair. Enhanced breasts, likely enhanced buttocks, she was a walking thirteen-year-olds wet dream. Her reputation stemming from her ‘modelling’ work, which seemingly saw her modelling nothing but her birthday suit.
As the wine flowed, and the hour became later and later, what was once a, relatively, large group had, perhaps as a result of the impact of the alcohol, suddenly became much more intimate. There was just myself and T remaining, also likely as a result of us both living in the city-centre and not needing to get to public transport back to our abodes.
It didn’t take long before the conversation turned to sex, ‘shaggin’’ as T referred to it. She didn’t hold back, regaling me of stories of threesomes, rough fucking, tit wanks, facials and rimming. All of which was a foreign world to me. It took another glass of wine before I broached the subject of fantasises, something T seemingly no longer had as she had, in her own words, fucked every which way possible. I, after some prodding, confessed I’d had fantasies about being ‘gangbanged’, or in serving multiple men at once.
With a smirk, T told me this was an easy one to fulfil, and gave me a brief overview of a ‘party’ that she attended monthly. By the end of the bottle, I had sent an email to the group that administered these events, and volunteered my services. Unlike T, who was, in the loosest terms, employed whilst attending this part, I would be attending as a guest. Luckily, being female, it did mean I wouldn’t have to pay, but, also as a guest, I wouldn’t have any, as T put it, ‘cum contact’.
It only took a bit of digging, and by digging, I mean searching Twitter for the group’s name before I found a website. Although elegant, it was sparse in detail. Prices for men, a calendar of events and then a section named just ‘girls’. Here, within this section, was pictures of women just as glamourous, if not even more so than T, with nothing left to the imagination, other than what the women looked like, with each face blurred to respect their anonymity. My body, with it’s almost flat chest and arse that seemingly little shape, paled in comparison, quite literally, to what these women had. Pale, the life of a ginger.
If the hangover didn’t give me enough trepidation and anxiety, seeing the women that performed at these events seriously did. Would any man at an event like this choose men, even with the disparity in numbers between the sexes, when such bombshells, much more experienced than me I add, were on offer? I had written out an email, saved it to draft, cancelling my attendance, convinced that I was going to be shamed, neglected and spurned at this event. I didn’t, however, hit send.
It’s here where Reddit enters the story. I have, for the past couple of years, used Reddit as something as a means of venting. I’ll write about unsatisfactory sexual encounters, which is every sexual encounter, sharing fantasies and basically engaging in my ever-increasing curiosity in all things sexual. Here, with a conversation with one particularly helpful person, I puckered up the courage to go ahead to what I had committed to.
3rd February: 11am
Nervously, I stood in front of the intercom for the block of apartments that I had been told to arrive at just two nights previously. My finger didn’t even get as far as touching the keypad, before the door buzzed, signally it was unlocked, and a female’s voice over the intercom told me to enter and, for discretion, to use the stairs to reach the apartment located on the 5th floor. I was also told to knock on the apartment’s door and then wait for entry.
As I, finally, reached the 5th floor, it dawned on me how unfit I was. Once a champion long distance runner, I was now out-of-breath scaling just five stories. The door to the apartment was easy to find, with there being just two apartments on each floor and, as instructed I knocked on the front door, with butterflies doing summersaults and dive-bombing manoeuvres in my stomach, for what seemed like a lifetime. Checking my watch, it was now 10:57, I’d been waiting at least four minutes, before the door finally opened.
On entering, I found myself in a small corridor, seemingly a hallway that seemed misshaped, and greeted by another thick front-door. For some reason, the first thing that sprang to mind, was that this was an air-lock. A small space, with only two exits, no natural light and lit by a pink lightbulb. A woman, who’s features I could barely make out, greeted me warmly. Locking the front door behind me, she told me, gently, to undress and place my clothing, jewellery (which was just my watch) and my bag into a shelf that had my first name printed on it. I needed a second prompt to actually begin undressing, something that was aided by a knock on the door I had just entered through.
Almost falling as, I removed my jeans, I was soon naked, and being led to the second door, which was unlocked and flung open. The sound, and smell, of sex, is what hit me first. Multiple screens were showing hardcore pornography, dozens of people were milling around the large open space, all naked, drinking bottled water and causally chatting to each. At the far end of the room, a woman was squatting, whilst a male stood above her, gripping her hair and thrusting into her mouth.
I walked around the room, arms cupped nervously in front of me, very conscious of how naked I was and of the leering eyes that seemingly judged me as I walked past. The room, all open space, with various items of furniture, including several beds, were unoccupied, other than by bottles of water and sugary snacks. For some reason, I’d expected there to be champagne, prosecco and perhaps even some more illicit materials; but no, there was just water and Haribo. Taking a bottle of water, I slowly walked, and surveyed the room.
I was surprised by the people in attendance. Again, perhaps in my naivety, I had expected the men to all be sculpted Greek gods, just as you often see in pornography, but the truth was far removed from this expectation. The reality was, there were men of all, shapes, sizes and ages; many of which were masked. Of the four women I spotted, two were also masked, and I was suddenly fully aware that this is something I should have considered myself. One, extremely large breasted woman, even wore something akin to a gasmask, although it had no practical effect as the mouth was uncovered. She was, seemingly, taking no chances with being identified.
Practically every man I saw was already hard. Most of these dicks were certainly nothing to shout out about, but there was a number of bigger, and certainly thicker members amongst them. I’m sure my gaze lingered on the meaty brown one, with a sharp curve, for far longer than was polite.
Most of the others, however, looked beyond disappointing. Most barely protruding from bushes of grey, or greying pubic hair. Thankfully, and not exactly unexpectedly, everyone looked clean, fresh and hygienic. Only one woman, that which had allowed my entry into the apartment proper, had any pubic hair of any kind.
As I toured the room, spacious as it was, the time to begin must have been reached. The large decorative clock that took up much of the space above a bed on one of the side walls said 11:10. Blinds, which covered the glass south facing window came down, electronically, and the lighting, previously natural, become dim and flickering, giving the illusion of candle light.
As I did another lap of the room, the sounds of intercourse began to ring out. Giggles, moans, sounds of skin hitting skin, the sound of condoms being applied, all unmistakable. I walked past a couch, where a woman, blonde, petite, was passionately kissing the man which she was straddling.
Beyond this couple was another, with the woman pinned against the wall, a tall dark man thrusting into her, pushing he head against it as she moaned and dribbled in ecstasy as he thrust into her with force and vigour. I found myself licking my lips as I watched them, staring into her masked eyes as she murmured the word god repeatedly.
A woman several inches shorter than myself, with almost impossibly wide hips walked past me, and as she did so I began to follow. It didn’t take long before she was led to a bed to our right, by the wrist by two men. She smiled at me as she knelt on the bed, taking one in her mouth whilst the second began smacking her arse, eventually entering her himself.
I had almost worked my way back to the inner front door of the apartment, aware that the clock now read 11:20 and time was becoming something of the essence. Behind me, people were well into fucking, with many more still happy just to observe and chat. To the right of me was a large wooden table, that had a clear plastic sheet covering it, just as most, if not all of the furniture I had seen so far had. This table was, seemingly, the centre piece of the room.
As I walked over, a man approached. Tall, slender and on the bigger side than I had seen so far. He took me by the hand, kissing my lips, licking them before moving onto my breasts, teasing my nipples with his teeth. I slid to my knees and took him in my mouth. As I began to bop my head, as he ran his hands through my hair, we were joined by a slender coloured woman who, masked, began to kiss me, before taking over on the oral front. I was going to raise, dejected and feeling somewhat spurned when, as I turned, a cock was placed in front of my face.
I didn’t even look up to see to whom it belonged before I began to suck, working my hand on the shaft. I was, at this point, somewhat disappointed that I was tasting only the latex of a condom, and not the skin and pre-cum that was wrapped up safely inside.
A third woman soon joined us, as the original couple were still next to us, and she began to lick his shaft as I sucked. “Finger me”, she instructed, unmasked, and arched her back to emphasise the point. As she took over sucking, I inserted two fingers into her, and began exploring her interior.
Looking up, briefly, I saw now that we were 9. 6 men and 3 women. The next moment is a blur, I don’t know how I got there, but I was suddenly on my knees on the large plastic covered coffee table, taking a dick from behind, with one in my mouth and one in each hand. I’ve never squirted before, and I’m not sure what the sensation feels like, but I could feel liquid coming out of me.
The man behind wasn’t particularly well endowed, but his thrusting, his rhythm and control were exquisite. I took turns pleasing the three cocks in front of me with my wife, gripping and jerking the shafts of those as I rotated pleasuring each of the men.
I don’t normally appreciate my head being pushes, or hair gripped whilst giving oral, but as one of the men in front of me took control, pushing himself deeper and deeper into my mouth, it felt heavenly.
Looking to my left, I could see that the coloured woman that originally joined me was taking long, deep thrusts into her own mouth, and it’s from here that I guess my own source of enjoyment got his inspiration.
I could feel, and hear, the man behind me finish. Disappointingly, there was nothing leaking out of me, rather he just removed his condom and emptied the contents into a flower vase which had been placed on the room’s fireplace. I longed for the feeling of cum inside me, but I knew that was never going to be on the agenda today.
As I readjusted my position on the couch, getting up, reaching for a bottle of water, my place was taken. A man, one I’d either not seen or noticed as yet, took my position and guided a woman atop him. As I sipped the water, I watched in almost envy as the woman guided his penis not into her vagina, but into her arse. With minimal resistance he was inside of her and she was bouncing frantically, being steadied with his arm around her waist whilst she used her hands to spread her cheeks.
Now, I wouldn’t say I prefer anal to normal intercourse, but I definitely do like it. It leaves me being filled in what I can only describe as a ‘different’ way. It feels much more intense, and despite those first few moments of discomfort, or even pain, I do enjoy it.
Using initiative of my own for the first time today, I took a waiting man by the hand, sat him down in the middle of the couch and in reverse cow-girl, began to guide him into my own arsehole. It took an uncomfortable amount of time before he entered me properly, and I couldn’t bounce like the woman next to me was doing, but I went at it as best as I could.
Changing position to match the couple next to me, I began to ride again, this time being entered much easier, and received some playful spanks to my buttocks as I bounced. I was hoping to entertain double penetration, which I’ve never experienced before, but could neither get anyone’s attention to try, nor get into the right position to make my intent clear.
The coffee table was now dragged over so it rested behind the couch, the man I was riding signalled we should move upon it. On hands and knees, he pushed down between my shoulders, an obvious signal I should change my position to present my arse better by placing my face down on the glass. He then mounted me, and began vigorously pumping my arse. I did, eventually, have to push back with my hands, as the feeling was becoming too intense. Spitting in my arse, then into his own hand, he pushed my legs together and once more thrust into my anus. I don’t recall how long this went on for, but it felt like an eternity by the time he was done.
Legs weak, and a bit light headed, I then headed away from the group, and sat a distance away happy just to watch, and happy to have much needed hydration. The room itself didn’t feel particularly warm, comfortable yes, but not warm when I entered, but now I could feel the sweat trickling down my skin everywhere.
I’m not sure how long I sat here, nor entirely sure what exactly it was that I took in. Everywhere I looked, women were squirming in ecstasy, yet this must have been my mind playing tricks on me, as there was only seven of us there, eight if you include the woman/organiser that let us into the building.
Suddenly, and with little warning, the blinds began to raise and an alarm, one that you would find on a phone timer, began to play. At this point, the three, I’m going to call them regulars, knelt in the centre of the room. Men, often in groups, approached them, removed their condoms and wanked themselves to climax before finishing on their faces. The vase, which had been collecting cum throughout the session was then brought over and tipped over each girl in turn, who, when finished, began to lick, kiss, and share the cum amongst each other, whilst devouring it.
I wish I had had the opportunity to partake in this, but as just a visitor, this was not something I was permitted to partake in. I write this now, at 2:15pm, and still things seem a bit blurry and hazy, with new memories and facts taking shape all the time. I’m also particularly fortunate in the sense that this meeting was, until 9am this morning, actually supposed to take place tomorrow. I’m not sure, with another 24 hours to stew on it, if I’d have actually ended up attending.
The walk home was done in a haze, and a bit deflating. I remember showering at the apartment, with the coloured woman warning me the water was cold as she had just washed cum out of her hair as I entered, but the words seemingly didn’t enter my mind at the time. I was, however, quite happy to just shower using cold water.
If I had to rate my experience, I think I’d score it a seven out of ten. Now, that’s not to say I had a bad time, far from it, but I think I made as most of the opportunity that was presented to me, and I also wish I’d be able to partake in something like this that resulted in some cum, it felt half finished, from my perspective, if that even makes sense?
I didn’t cum myself, but I think that was down to a combination of being a bit overwhelmed and the nerves. I’m going back on the 6th of February, so hopefully I’ll have more fulfilment a second time, and going with T, who will, hopefully, get me more involved and maybe even be able to get me onto the cum list. I’m not particularly bothered about being paid for the experience, although that would be a welcome bonus, but I have massive pangs of jealousy watching the women playing with cum, the seed of so many men, when I could only just sit and watch.
Another thing, that I didn’t like but neglected to mention, is on entry to the apartment, after undressing but before entering the apartment proper, I was stamped – similar to how you would be on entering a club. I had just an ‘A’ stamp, which was given after I confirmed I wanted anal. It was put on my back, which wasn’t particularly helpful in rubbing off! There were different stamps that weren’t offered, can anyone confirm what they might mean?
GS:
DV:
FS:
R:
T&T:
CIM
O L:
DP: Now I know what this one is, I guess I needed to ask for it.
I’m happy to answer any questions, and please provide feedback on my writing – this is one area I really want to improve!