by Kalen Laurel
“Well, hi there, Jack,” she said with a heavy, southern drawl. “I’m Peggy, and Bill and I are your hosts tonight.” She cocked her head in the direction of a fellow with a beard and mustache engaging in conversation with another couple. He nodded at me and held an index finger up briefly to indicate he’d only be a minute.
I shook Peggy’s outstretched hand out of habit, realizing immediately what she really wanted to do. “Oops. Sorry…I get it.” I allowed her to fasten a band around my left wrist as well. “Nice to meet you,” I offered.
She turned back to Jennifer and said, “Well, you’re just gorgeous, and you’ve got yourself a handsome husband. Y’all will be very popular here.”
“Bill’s going to give us a tour as soon as he’s finished with the other newbies he’s with now,” Jennifer said in a voice that indicated she was already having fun. “Peggy says a couple’s going to do a bondage and submission demonstration in the big room upstairs at ten. I’d really like to see that!” Any hope I had that she might be convinced to beat a hasty retreat vanished with those words.
My escape foiled, I turned my attention back to Bill, who would soon give us the grand tour, and took the time to pay real attention to the woman he was talking to.
My heart did a little flip. This woman was not only beautiful; something about her enthralled me. Her bright blue, intelligent, and piercing eyes were intense, yet she blushed as if she was a schoolgirl when Bill told her about the ten o’clock demonstration. She wore a cream-colored shift that stopped just above her lovely knees, and her deep chestnut hair fell in full waves to just above her breasts. When I realized she and her husband would be taking the tour with Jennifer and me, I decided the evening might turn out to be palatable after all.
I took a deep breath and relaxed a bit, my attention turning to the way Jennifer was looking at the woman’s husband. My instinctive reaction to him was to dismiss him as uninteresting. He had sort of a “bookish” look to him. I usually find that type of man to be weak, and I am always surprised when strong women are in any way attracted to them. But I shifted my position to get a better look at Jennifer’s face, and it was obvious she found him interesting.
What could she see in this man?
My question would have to go unanswered for a while because Bill began making introductions.
“So, this is Marie and Phillip,” he began, and then turned to us. “And you are Jennifer and…I didn’t catch your name.” He put his hand out to shake mine.
“I’m Jack. Actually, almost everyone calls me JT,” I answered, and then turned my attention to Marie and Phillip. “Nice to meet you two,” I said as I put my other arm around Jennifer’s shoulder as if to say, “she’s with me.” Even as I did so, I realized how silly it was to act territorial, when the whole purpose of the party was exactly the opposite.
Jennifer shook Marie’s hand. “I’m really glad we can tour with another couple. We won’t feel quite so conspicuous,” she said and then held Phillip’s hand noticeably longer, pulling him slightly toward her as if confiding in him, though talking loud enough for us all to hear. “Am I the only naughty one excited about the bondage and submission presentation later?”
Phillip smiled back at her but glanced anxiously at Marie before answering. “Well, I don’t know if Marie will let me, but we’ll see, I guess.”
Okay, now I get it.
I let my arm slip off Jennifer’s shoulder and we started following Bill around the corner to start our tour. There was no reason for concern that Phillip would make a play for Jennifer. It would be Jennifer making the play for him!
He’s a submissive!
I trailed behind them as we were shown the first couple of bedrooms—one lit with romantic candles, another showcasing a brass bed with silk handkerchiefs already strategically tied at the corners—trying to put the pieces together in light of this new perspective. My new hypothesis for explaining the struggles Jennifer and I have experienced in our relationship was that she wanted to be dominant, and I was unwilling to abdicate that role.
And if Jennifer was immediately attracted to Phillip because she sensed he was submissive, could it be possible that I was attracted to Marie for the same reason—she had submissive tendencies as well?
We entered a large room Bill called “the playroom,” and I was no longer able to concentrate on my private thoughts. Various pieces of sexual furniture and apparatus filled the room—a swing with stirrups and wrist clamps hung in the center of the room, chains hanging from the ceiling landing over mattresses, and several couches were placed strategically, I supposed, for others to comfortably watch the proceedings. But what totally mesmerized me was something Bill referred to as a “bone chair” located right next to the doorway where we stood viewing the room.
To be honest, I couldn’t see much of the chair itself because several attractive people were actively exploiting it for its intended function. The woman, her feet in stirrups, was spread wide open, her overly abundant but shaved labia displayed for all to see, while one of the men stood between her legs, slowly fucking her. His cock was long and thin, and we could see every inch of him disappear into her and then slide back out again, slick with her juices. Another man stood next to her turned head that was positioned perfectly to accept his cock. She wasn’t sucking him as much as he was fucking her mouth, his hands both pulling her hair back from her face and providing an anchor for his thrusts.
We watched this slow tableau in silence for several minutes, Bill apparently deciding the scene spoke for itself. I felt my cock growing hard and glanced to Marie, standing directly to my left, and noticed she was watching me. Her sky blue eyes met mine briefly, and she blushed again and averted her gaze back to the chair.
Bill broke the spell by motioning us to continue on down the hall, and we finished the tour. We saw the kitchen that doubled as the bar, a sliding glass door that opened to a heated patio area frequented primarily by the smokers in the group, a living room where folks seemed to socialize before adjourning to one of the bedrooms or the playroom, and the garage, with its hot tubs, patio tables, and chairs.
After Bill reminded us again of some of the club’s rules and drifted off to greet another couple arriving at the entrance, I decided to do my best to engage Phillip and Marie in further conversation before anyone else could divert their attention. We chatted somewhat awkwardly for several minutes before I decided a hot tub might be a more comfortable venue, despite the fact reconnaissance had revealed none of their inhabitants wore swimming suits or trunks.
Oh well…nothing ventured…
“How about we get out of these street clothes and meet at a hot tub?” I ventured, and was relieved to have my suggestion well received by the other three.
“That’s a great idea,” Phillip said, and the wives both nodded—Jennifer with an eager smile, Marie with a look of sheer panic that made me smile with delight.
I couldn’t help it; she was just a doll.
We slipped into the robes Jennifer packed and rendezvoused at the hot tubs about ten minutes later, timed perfectly with the departure of the young woman and older man I’d seen entering earlier. Frankly, I was thankful to see him go, since no normal male wants to invite that kind of comparison, no matter how comfortable he is with his size.
Jennifer tossed off her robe and climbed the stairs leading up to the edge of the tub, without a second’s hesitation. No surprise there; it wouldn’t have shocked me if she had disrobed as soon she arrived through the front door. Phillip followed behind her like a puppy dog, as if he had entirely forgotten he had a wife present. I’d bet money he took hell for that later. I sized things up, decided to put chivalry before modesty, and removed my robe, then offered to keep Marie’s from dipping into the water while she got in.
“Oh, thank you,” she said sweetly. “It’s just that I’ve never done this before.”
We climbed the stairs together, and I held her robe at the shoulders as she slipped out of it and down into the water. I
was only able to catch a brief glimpse of her body as she did, enough to notice a triangle of dark public hair and tiny, erect nipples perched high up on her breasts. I already noticed that most of the women at the party had either shaved their pubic hair or had trimmed it dramatically, as Jennifer does, and so the sight of a full bush seemed almost decadent, as if I was truly seeing something few men had been allowed to. I felt my cock stir, so I was happy to have the warm, dark water to slide into before my arousal became evident.
At first, the four of us just silently drifted in bubbly water, each of us in turn locating a jet to position at the center of our backs.
“Feels good,” I offered, breaking the silence.
“Yes, it does,” Marie murmured. She closed her eyes and settled deeper into the churning water.
I looked over at Jennifer and Phillip, neither of whom had spoken since entering the tub, and saw their eyes locked on each other and her arms stretched near his midsection. She was rocking gently back and forth, and she smiled at me playfully when she realized I was watching her, before pointedly averting her eyes in Marie’s direction to indicate I should give her some attention.
I undeniably wanted to touch Marie. She was beautiful and seemed so sweet and vulnerable. Those who know me would say I’m rarely at a loss for words. But as I searched my mind for something appropriate to say to a naked woman in a hot tub, all I could think of was one of the bulleted suggestions on the FAQ sheet we received upon arrival: “All activity involving other couples should be consensual. If you are uncertain, ask.”
As I was formulating a question for Marie, one I’m certain would have sounded inane given the options I was presently considering, a loudspeaker announced that the BDSM demonstration was going to begin upstairs in the playroom. Phillip’s reaction was priceless. His eyes popped open as if his morning alarm clock had just gone off, and his back arched and his feet slipped out from under him, almost submerging him completely before he could drag himself upright again. I’m positive this happened because Jennifer nearly pulled his cock off in her excitement to get out of the tub.
“Are you going to come?” Jennifer asked me, although given the circumstances, one might understand why I briefly thought the question was a double entendre directed at Phillip, who was already answering her question by reaching for his robe and preparing his exit.
I glanced at Marie, and was not surprised to see her look less than enthusiastic about the proposition of leaving the tub.
“I think I’ll pass, honey,” I said to Jennifer. Then, to Marie, “Will you stay and keep me company?”
She sat up straighter and gave Phillip a little wave. “Yes…you two go ahead. We’ll hold your places.”
“Okay. You two have fun,” Jennifer chirped as she took Phillip’s hand and started dragging him toward the door before he even finished closing his robe. “Come on. We’re going to class.”
Marie and I looked at each other and couldn’t help but smile.
“She’s excited, I guess,” I said after they were gone.
“Yeah. Phillip is too. It’s something he’s talked about for years,” she said in a resigned tone.
“Not your cup of tea, then?” I asked.
“No, not what he wants me to do,” she said.
“Well, I’ve never thought of it in that way before, but I guess that’s exactly what’s been going on between Jennifer and me as well.” I subtly started to move near her. “You heard her suggest we have fun. Is it okay if I move next to you?”
She smiled sweetly but cast her eyes down demurely as she answered. “Sure. They certainly haven’t wasted any time on permissions, have they?”
I scooted next to her and we ended up with our legs and butts touching and my hand on the top of her thigh.
Fuck she feels good! Her skin is so soft.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Marie.” I squeezed her thigh gently as we both settled back to relax in the bubbles again. When she’d clearly relaxed, I turned my palm off her thigh and gently cupped it under her far breast, bouncing it up out of the water and back down again to get a feel for its weight in my hand.
This is heavenly…a breast worth fondling!
Marie giggled, and then moaned softly when I began tugging at her nipple, elongating it between my thumb and forefinger. When I squeezed it a bit harder, she arched her back and her eyes became heavy and hooded. Then, just as she appeared to have grown complacent to my touch, I pinched it more aggressively, causing her to gasp in surprise and her breathing to become more ragged. I moved to her other breast and her head tipped back slightly as I pinched that nipple. She cried out softly before relaxing into an audible purr, clearly indicating she was not saying “no.”
I returned my hand to her thigh and slowly kneaded my way upwards to the softness of her inner thigh.
She shuddered, and her lips parted for a sharp intake of breath.
My cock was throbbing, and I was desperate to be touched. I pulled my hand from her thigh long enough to lift hers from where it rested and place it against my balls, at the base of my cock. She moved her grip up my shaft without prompting, and between the slight pressure of her hand and the movement of the water, I was in heaven. I then slipped my fingers in between her legs again, misjudging her position a bit—perhaps she had shifted to grant me easier access?—because this time my fingertips slid down between the silky lips before resting against the intersection of her thigh and sex.
I squeezed her upper thigh again, and she echoed the pressure in her grip of my cock. She turned her head to me and opened her eyes to look into mine. I drew my index finger up until the tip rested against the hood of her clitoris, and I began to roll it gently around in a circular motion. As she began stroking my cock more rhythmically, her eyes started to close, and she lowered her head and turned it to the side to avoid my gaze.
I want to see her come!
I brought my free hand up to her chin, and gently but decisively lifted it so our eyes were level, and I spoke in an equally firm voice.
“Open your eyes, Marie. Keep them open.”
And I continued to circle her clit with my finger, letting the tip slide occasionally down against the opening of her vagina, and was rewarded with another moan.
“Look at me—do not close your eyes.”
Her hand gripped my cock harder and tugged more eagerly as she grew closer to orgasm. She tried to avert her eyes a couple of times, but my correction was immediate and urgent.
“Do not look away. Stare into my eyes, Marie.” And after a moment I instructed, “Come for me, Marie.”
Her breathing became more ragged, and my finger began to dip inside her vagina with more frequency, then more depth. She tightened around it and arched up against my hand with more and more urgency.
“That’s right, Marie…come for me.”
Our foreheads pressed together; our eyes locked—searching, drilling, sharing. She couldn’t have been aware of the others filing back into the room, climbing back into the hot tubs or taking seats at the tables. I was only vaguely aware of this myself, sensing it more than seeing it, but I knew that all the eyes were on this beautiful woman tensing en route to orgasm.
One finger became two, and her breathing became sporadic and harsh. Two became three, her legs began to tense, and her torso lifted so high out of the water that I had to shift my body on top of her to stay with her and keep our eyes locked. I then reached for her right breast and placed the heel of my palm just under it to help support her while my thumb and first finger found her nipple, rolling it again between my fingertips.
Her eyes grew even wider, and I pulled my face back a little so I could see more of her, so I could watch the last few spasms of resistance.
I pinched her nipple firmly.
She engulfed another knuckle of the hand fucking her vagina—now stretched taut and wanting.
She gasped.
I pinched her nipple again, elongating it this time.
Her eyes rolled back into
her head and her eyelids began to flutter closed.
“Look at me, Marie!” I growled.
She complied.
“Come now, Marie! Come for me now!”
I pinched her nipple harder and kept up the pressure.
A moan began growing from deep within her.
No other voices. No other sounds. Without looking, I could feel all eyes on us.
I rolled her clit under my thumb and pulled my fingertips forward against the front wall of her vagina.
Her arms flailed upward and pulled my face to hers, her thumbs against my jaw and her fingertips at the base of my neck.
The moan turned wild and animalistic. Deep. Resonating.
Another woman cried out, “Oh, God!”
Marie pulled my mouth to hers—maybe to kiss me, maybe to stifle her scream.
I pressed my body tightly against her.
Our eyes were locked; I was looking into her very soul.
The contractions around my fingers were relentless.
She brought her legs together around my hand.
I hung on to her as her back arched and her head flew back, breaking the kiss. The scream that escaped was primitive and drawn out and echoed through the room, even after the last of the air left her lungs and she began to slump against me.
“Oh…my…God…that…feels…so fucking amazing.”
I released her nipple and slid my hand up over her breast, and up further until my fingertips were behind her neck and pulling her lips to mine again.
I kissed her on the mouth, and then on the side of her nose.
And then on the lids of her eyes that had now fluttered closed.
“You are incredible…so beautiful,” I said, my voice low and hoarse.
I relaxed my hands and pulled away from her body ever so slightly to let her come down.
The room took a collective inhale.
I could hear another woman climaxing somewhere.
A man exhaled with a loud, moaning “fuck” elsewhere in the room.
Marie folded against me, her breathing returning to normal, tears streaming down her face.