Jason led me by the hand to the play space. It was already filling up with couples and single men. Jason and the husband (we’ll just call him “H”) picked a platform bed. His wife (“W”) still hadn’t said anything but he said “oh, she likes you a lot”.
It was surreal.
H said “we usually like to start with massages; do you like massages?”
I really wished it was Jason’s hands on me. Throughout the next hour I would always know the second he touched me… I suppose after 18 months it makes sense. (And for anyone relatively new to this blog and wondering why Jason isn’t my boyfriend…he found out shortly after we started dating, in the Fall of 2013, that he had a 9 month old. His son lives with him now and he’s been slowly determining with the mother of his child whether they are going to get back together).
Massages commenced. H was okay with his hands but I generally like a stronger touch. He included my feet, which I love, and told me I had amazing strong calves that reminded me of some athlete he was with once. Which made me giggle since I’m no athlete.
W still hadn’t said much. She had large fake tits and was smooth where I was dimpled. She was also much shorter with darker hair. An interesting contrast. I decided I had to let go of my insecurities as H was definitely enjoying his hands on my body.
When the massages finished we got down to business. I think I started with kissing Jason, but it soon became a blur. At first we had a “full swap”… I was with H and Jason was with W, but he would occasionally put a hand or mouth on me. We each gave them blow jobs. H was small. Not even small side of average – small. Been there before, I was nonplussed. I could feel the circling of the single men around us, some jerking off under their towels.
During the blow job I focussed on watching the glory hole action, which was next to where I was. At first I couldn’t figure out why the guy seemed to be fucking himself against a mirrored wall. Then I figured out what the hell was going on and tried not to laugh with H’s cock in my mouth; a guy might take it the wrong way.
H doesn’t like having his wife on top, so she was excited to mount Jason. H just wanted to fuck me in the missionary position. It wasn’t exactly my first choice but he was actually rather respectful and pleasant so why not. I took one for the team.
I watched Jason most of the time…seeing him be pleasured by another woman was interesting. I wished it was me but didn’t feel any jealousy. Just desire to get on top of him.
H finished and wandered off to get cleaned up. I sat up and a couple of single men asked if they could play with me. I declined. Then W finished and I decided I wanted to mount Jason. H was back and Jason told him I wanted DP…so that’s what I got. H had a bit of trouble getting in but because he was small it was actually pretty easy for me. I think Jason wasn’t super hard because he’d cum with W. But, it was still pretty fucking great, pardon the pun.
Then Jason and H asked if W could go down on me. This is what Jason was waiting for and I thought – why the hell not.
I lay back and enjoyed another first. Jason whispered in my ear and kissed me and she touched me – geez women are soft – and then I felt her kisses which started with my breasts. When she put her face between my legs, it really didn’t matter what gender she was. She was skilled. I found myself wanting her to put her fingers inside me at the same time, but as she brought me to orgasm, with her husband on one of my breasts and Jason on the other, and an audience surrounding us, I really didn’t care.
She and Jason started playing and the men told me to kiss her. So I did. She was strangely devoid of passion, but it still felt good. I played with her tits. Jason asked me if I would go down on her and I said no – I wasn’t ready for that.
H disappeared somewhere and W was once again engaged with Jason, so I took the opportunity to go find my friend the Dom. I felt like I was running a sex gauntlet as the single men I pass through each said something to me: “hey gorgeous”, “hey wanna play”, etcetera.
I was a little turned around but finally found what I was looking for – the St. Andrew’s cross. It was in the centre of a large room – not mounted on a wall – so people could watch from the playrooms on one side and the big room on the other. People were gathered on couches, some just watching, some watching while pleasuring their partners. The bar was at the back and more people were watching from bar stools.
There was a slender woman on the cross and a man was whipping her. Gulp. I’d never seen anything like that in person before.
I had put my purple lace panties back on but otherwise was naked. The man looked up, saw me, broke into a big smile, walked over and gave me a hug.
What. The. Fuck.