Night Shift
Page 15
To go back and find a different fantasy, Click Here.
Within a few days, my post on the swingers’ message board had over twenty responses! People seemed excited. I checked my new and exciting inbox during work; there were several people asking me questions, responses to which I made up as I went along.
“Thanks for your posting! Question: Is this just a meet-up party or a play party?” wrote someone who went by the name of “FunTimeSheena.”
With the use of a swingers’ glossary I found online, I deduced that she was interested in knowing if she could actually have sex with people at the party, or just meet someone at the party and have sex elsewhere. I mean, isn’t every party and bar and nightclub and even coffee shop kind of a “meet-up” party then? Anyone can meet anyone anywhere, then take them home and have sex with them. I suppose the title limited the people present to people who strictly went out with a sexual intent.
“Yes! This is a play party. It is an adult video store where anything is allowed! There are rooms available for people to do whatever they want!” I answered.
One person posted, “I had no idea that store was still around! I got my first porn there when I turned eighteen.” He ended his post with a fast-moving GIF of himself (I think it was him) jerking off. He was a very well-endowed black man, and underneath the image it said “BULL.” My swinger dictionary told me “bull” referred to a single guy with a big cock who was readily available to fuck people’s wives, or be in double penetrations and threesomes with husbands and wives. I wondered if he had to get crowned as a bull or if he was self-appointed. Was there a board that approved you based on your abilities? I had so many questions for the swingers; hopefully we’d have a full store for the event, unlike this fine Wednesday at 11:00 P.M. , which was particularly empty. There was no one in the store but a man with a pizza-stained Disney World T-shirt looking to buy a blow-up doll. I rang him up with a smile, I asked him the doll’s name, I asked what their plans were for the evening, and I offered him and his plastic lover a room, but he said he preferred their first intimate experience to be in the privacy of their own home. Understood.
There was still one thing I needed to do for the event— tell Sandy. If she said no, it wouldn’t matter how much planning I put into this, it wouldn’t happen. This is still her store.
I found her in the tiny stock room, dressed in pink heels and a strapless terrycloth dress. She was already half-drunk on apple-pie flavored moonshine, going through a bunch of receipts.
“Sandy, I want to have an event in the store,” I told her.
“You do?” she replied.
“Actually—I am doing one. I already posted about it. I should have told you earlier!”
“Honey, I can’t pay you any extra money,” she said.
“No! It’s fine! I just want to help bring some new people in here. It gets so boring in here when it’s slow. Oh, I didn’t mean this place is boring or anything! I just meant, there’s so much more I can bring to my work!” I stammered.
“Heh. Yes, I can understand that. Gotta make the day more exciting. Well, the more the merrier!” she said, not even bothering to look up from the long slip of annotated paper from Thongs-R-Us. She was smiling though; I think I got my yes!
I kept obsessively loading the message board on my phone while I was at work. Replies steadily came in. An attractive blonde couple in their early thirties, whose profile photo featured the two of them on the beach with surfboards, posted that they would be coming and they were looking for a couple to do a “same room swap.” An interracial couple, who could also be called an “inter-height” couple as he was fairly tall and she was pretty short, asked if anyone wanted to “bang the wife” while the husband watched. A good-looking Latino man responded with a thumbs-up emoji and said he’d be there. People were so particular and direct about their sexual arrangements; it was completely different than the college parties I went to where men and women stayed in their own respective corners, and only began speaking once they were appropriately buzzed. Very short, anti-climactic sex in a bathroom, closet, or a room where several people were actually sleeping would occur if you were lucky— which I rarely was.
Amanda never responded to my “I miss you” text; in fact, she hadn’t talked to me at all since that night. It had been a few days, and I’d since sent her some questions about how I should be planning this event. Was I supposed to provide alcohol? Do I need decorations? Am I expected to have music going? I needed professional help for this professional party; besides the post on the forum, I really didn’t know what I was doing. But there was only silence from Amanda for five days until she suddenly sent me a text asking how work was going.
I was boggled. Did she not see my texts? Or did she just not care? I thought she was supposed to help me! Contacting swingers in a suburb outside of Tampa was never something I saw myself doing in the name of love. Wait, I shouldn’t have said love. Don’t tell her I said that.
I was conflicted. I was happy that Sandy had given me permission to do what I had already been planning to do, and half sad that a person I’d fell head over heels for was apparently ignoring me. Around 1:00 A.M., a beautiful black woman in an elegant black dress, and a tall, white, business-looking man in a khaki sport coat, combed-back dark hair, and black suit pants came inside. Definitely not our usual customer base, especially at this hour.
“Hi! Can I help you guys?” I asked.
“Hello, we, um, read about this place on the lifestyles board?” the woman said.
Holy shit.
“Oh, hey! I’m Taryn, the event coordinator,” I paused, “but the event isn’t for another two weeks. It will look waaaaay more exciting by then. I promise.” The man looked around, sizing up the store as if he was some kind of health inspector.
“Where does the play take place? We’re in the middle of a store? I can’t bring our pet here! Where would we engage? On top of a stash of magazines?”
“We, um, don’t allow pets in the store. Unless they’re service animals, of course.”
The couple looked at me with disgust.
“Let’s go honey, I had a feeling this was a scam.” The man walked in the direction of the door.
“There’s no scam here! I promise.” Then I quickly realized they meant a pet human, who served them sexually, and not a yippy Chihuahua that this woman would carry around in an oversized purse. I needed to make myself some flashcards with all the terms from the swinger dictionary so I could memorize them. “I’m so sorry,” I said. “It’s my first event here! I’m in the process of putting away the magazines. They won’t be in the way.”
His wife wandered off to look at the shoes. We actually had a great shoe selection, most likely because Sandy really loves heels. She found a pair of stiletto heels on the rack, then bent down to look for a pair in her size. Finding one, she slipped off her little block wedges, and inserted her stocking-clad feet into the nine-inch, patent-leather Mary Janes.
“You like these, Chuck?” she asked. If he didn’t say yes, he must be blind. She looked incredible, the height of the shoes elongating her already graceful, dark legs. Anyone would want those legs wrapped around them. The husband smiled and nodded in approval. His mood changed to a slightly calmer energy as he ogled his wife in the heels.
“So, we have these private rooms here, where you can do anything you want. And it’s of course pet friendly.” I smiled. “Do you want me to give you a tour?”
“Yeah, sure!” the woman said. The man grumbled and went along.
I guided them through the back of the store, and showed them all the ROOMZ and the special features of each. I showed them how to work the TV in the big room (even though it literally entailed pushing an “on” button on a remote), I showed them our selection of lubes, I did whatever I could in my power to make six dirty rooms with tissues and televisions in them as exotic as possible. I felt like a used car salesman. The couple looked pretty stoic and unimpressed. I desperately didn’t want my event to fail before it even start
ed. What if this couple went to the forums and told everyone how lame this place was? I couldn’t stop thinking about how they could so easily dash my dreams; it was the only thing on my mind— well, except for the thoughts of Amanda that hadn’t left my brain since we met, and my amazement at how this woman could walk in those heels. She still had them on, and she was rocking them all over the store.
“I love this place,” the man said suddenly. I was completely caught off guard. “It has like a ‘70s vintage porn theater feel. It’s awesome. I assume no photographs are allowed in here, correct?”
“Uh, yes.” Note to self, put up a sign that says No photography allowed and then—it will be official. No photography will be allowed. I can make that happen.
“So, are the rooms always available? Or just during events?” the woman asked me. I like how she said “events” as if there were lots of them all the time.
“Ha! These rooms are literally open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. I think they MIGHT be closed on Christmas—for, like, an hour.” I laughed, and they laughed with me. I was glad my humor was able to bring us all on the same page.
The couple gave each other a sly smile.
“A year ago we had a child,” the woman said.
“Congrats! That must be one beautiful child,” I said. Was that inappropriate? Either way, it was definitely true.
“The baby sleeps in our room and it’s been so hard to find time to . . .”
“To fuck?” I said.
“Yes!” they both answered.
“We have a sitter for the next two hours—our evening plans ended earlier than expected,” the husband said.
“Oh! Sure, I’d be happy to set you guys up in a room. In fact, if you buy the shoes and any toy in the store I can let you use the room for free!” I took it upon myself to make a package deal. These could be great repeat customers, with extra money to spend, and a good sexual attitude.
“Honey, go pick out a toy,” the woman said, although before she was even done with her sentence her husband was off to find one for them to use.
“So, what’s your name?” I asked, after a few moments of awkward silence.
“Cherise,” she said. “And yours?”
“I’m Taryn!”
“Taryn, are you a unicorn?”
Ha!
“Oh, ha, ha, no I’m not special or anything. I’m just, you know, doing my job. Unless, you were asking if I was literally a unicorn—but I don’t think those actually exist.”
Damn it, I was losing her! I can’t ruin this now, I’ve gotta think of something clever to say.
But before I could utter another word, she leaned in and kissed me. Her big dark lips tasted like peaches, because of her lip-gloss. I was in shock. I could smell her perfume, it was a bubble-gum scent, but a sophisticated one. I could feel her soft skin, silky but almost plastic.
“You’re new in this lifestyle aren’t you?” She smirked at me.
“Yeah, kind of. I guess you can say that.”
“Why don’t you join us?” she said, and then she kissed me again, more intensely this time. With her silky dress, giant breasts, and fake hair, it felt like kissing a Barbie doll. It was definitely nice fake hair, that moved like hair and looked like hair, but I could feel little pieces of tape in her head where the hairpiece attached.
Would Amanda be proud of me if I joined? I got more aroused by imagining this as some kind of sexual test I had to pass in order to get her to come back, a hurdle in an obstacle course of cock and pussy that I had to conquer to get the prize. I was up for the challenge.
I nodded a hopefully seductive “Yes” to answer her question.
Chuck returned with a toy in his hand; I’m so glad he picked that one, now that I was (hopefully) joining in. I’d always wanted to use one of those, but I never thought I’d have the chance. Chuck and Cherise scanned each other, Cherise tilting her head toward me, raising an eyebrow in an almost sinister look, as if asking “shall we bring a mouse for us cats to play with?” Chuck looked at me seriously for the first time that night, observing my body like a chef picking out his meat for the night’s special. Finally, he nodded his approval; they came over, each grabbed one of my hands, and guided me into the room.
To read about Chuck grabbing a riding crop, Click Here.
To read about Chuck grabbing a strap-on, Click Here.
Chuck placed the riding crop, plus handcuffs and a convenient two-pack of blindfolds, on the small table in the room. That had always confused me on a practical level: Why sell them in packs of two? Two people obviously can’t be blindfolded at the same time. The imagery of the thought always made me laugh. Was one there in case one had broken? In case one was lost? However, now being in a room with Cherise and her husband it all began to make sense. He smiled from ear to ear, and watched me kiss his wife.
I kissed Cherise again and she grabbed me closer to her. She sucked my lips with hers and jetted her tongue down my throat. She slipped her hands underneath my top and goosebumps appeared all over my chest and my nipples became rock hard.
Kissing her was magical and the thought of what we were about to do was so enticing, but my head was still part-way at the counter. What if a customer needed me? What if someone needed to buy lube? What would I do? Though at the same time, I supposed Cherise was a customer, and she did need me. So this was totally fine.
“Hello,” I said bashfully, staring into Cherise’s eyes as I pulled away from our kiss. Chuck came over and put a hand on Cherise’s shoulder.
“Good job,” he said, “you caught a unicorn.”
I was completely aroused and excited to indulge in a rendezvous with people who were likely to have been prom king and queen, but I did not want to roleplay as a horse, not even as a magical one.
“Seriously, what is with you guys and unicorns?” I asked.
Cherise chuckled, “It’s a term for sexy single females in the lifestyle.”
“They’re rare, and most people have never even seen one, but Cherise has been lucky enough to find a few,” Chuck said.
“Ohhhhhh, I get it. Well, I’m not too surprised.” I tried to think of a witty response that related to sex and majestic horses in some way, but I was gladly swallowed by Cherise’s mouth before I had a moment to think of anything that would have been more likely to ruin our moment.
As much as I was loving kissing Cherise, the riding crop and blindfolds were looming large in my mind, exciting me to no end. Both items were 100 percent leather, high-end products that were coincidentally made by the company Amanda worked for, JT Stockroom. It’s like she was here in spirit.
Chuck must have noticed my anticipation, because he went over and grabbed the riding crop. He got behind Cherise, and pulled her dress down exposing her large perfect breasts, with tan colored areolas. He smacked her nipples with the riding crop and it made a sharp, loud sound, leather cracking against the skin. “More,” she whispered, and he hit her again, harder this time. “MORE!” she then shouted more aggressively and he hit her even harder. I could see her nipples getting red; she let out an elegant moan. Chuck put the whip down and then gently tickled her breasts, and blew on them with his mouth. It was so fascinating to see someone so aroused without anything happening below the waist, as if her nipples sent a signal over to the rest of her body.
In my recent week of sexual exploration, I learned that my nipples were rather sensitive as well, and I wanted to experience this pain and pleasure. I boldly unbuttoned my top and sat on my knees and waited patiently for my boob beating.
“Do you really think you deserve this?” Chuck asked me, standing over me with the crop in hand.
“Well, yeah. It’s my room. I deserve to get what I want, right?” I smirked.
“She is feisty!” Cherise said, and suddenly a blindfold was placed on me, and my hands were cuffed behind my back. I closed my eyes underneath the mask because I truly didn’t want to see anything; I wanted the full blindfold experience. I could feel hands going up and down
my body and I wasn’t sure whose was whose. My leggings came down and my shoes came off. I felt very much like a rag doll; my body belonged to them as I laid there anxious of what would come.
My pussy lips were spread open and a tongue quickly found my clit. Another pair of hands grabbed my nipples, pinched them, pulled them, and the more they were pulled the more I pushed into the mysterious mouth. The riding crop whacked my breasts. It felt incredible, the pain almost too quickly fading into a sensation of sexy numbness. Again, it hit me, I moaned, the right nipple, then the left nipple, the right the left, back and forth. I moaned and moaned. I felt helpless, I loved the sting of the sharp leather against me.
My neck was grabbed, my legs were pushed apart, and the tongue was still going all over my vagina. I was dripping wet, my body covered in so many different sensations from the top of my pussy to the bottom. My legs were weak, and my breasts were being beaten harder and harder. A finger penetrated my pussy, then two, then three. They slid right inside me without any lube at all; I was so worked up.
“Take me!” I started yelling uncontrollably. “Use me, please!” I had never thought I would say something so blunt to a lover, let alone two lovers who were strangers. My pelvis thrusted so hard into the mouth that was on me, my throat was grabbed, and then suddenly I felt an unexpected but incredibly erotic slap across my face; it unlocked sensory organs in my body I didn’t know existed! Fingers were inside me hitting my G-spot, my body submitted to impact coming at it from two different sets of hands and—what was happening—ah!
Was I peeing all over them? I lost control over anything inside me and I felt liquid gush from out of me. I was helplessly crying and cumming and possibly peeing all over the place.
“Keep going, keep going!” Cherise encouraged me.
“A dirty fucking girl,” Chuck said, he slapped me with his hands and then whacked me with the crop.
“I can’t stop, I can’t stop!” I said. I felt myself making a giant mess. I whimpered and moaned, and then suddenly there was a cock in my mouth, invading the last of my sexual senses and driving me wild.