Something Familiar

Jen was running late, but her friend, Mara, was on time. I'd never met her before, only seen a picture. Jen and Mara had only just met a few days before, at a workshop. As I wrote here, Jen had met another friend of mine, whom I've not named in this blog (mainly because she's been dithering (winking smiley face) over what she wants me to call her), but about whom I've written a few times, at the same workshop.

Jen and several of the seven women at the workshop had attempted to go to Checkmate together the previous weekend, but been turned away (!) because they didn't have any men with them. (What the fuckkind of swingers club turns away a group of women? This baffles me.) Anyway, she and Mara had been looking forward to going to a sex club together, and Jen and I had been to Le Trapeze before, so we figured we'd do it again, only this time, with Mara.

Mara beat me to the bar around the corner from Le Trapeze. "I'm the blonde sitting at the edge of the bar," she texted me.

"I'm the bald guy in jeans and a Spiderman t-shirt."

Later, she said, "When you texted me that you were wearing a Spiderman shirt, I knew we were going to get along."

I walked in to find her, a gorgeous blonde in a sexy black skirt and a top of some sort, I'm sure, but I honestly don't remember. It was her face and her ass that I immediately noticed. I led her from the bar to the more comfortable booth, around the corner, and complimented her. "You're hot," I said. She blushed.

We made small talk. Talked about our lives (she lives in Israel, was visiting as a tourist). About her family. And then Jen walked in. She was wearing a white lacey skirt and also, I'm sure, a top. As usual, she looked stunning, pale, radiant. Her hair had changed – was a bit blonder than before. She experienced it as a huge change; in the light in the bar, it looked like a minor change. In any event, it was her face and ass I noticed too. I stood up to kiss her, pulling her head against mine by the back of it, and sat back down, facing Jen, my knees incidentally brushing against Mara's knees.

Mara drank a vodka tonic; Jen, a foofy, but strong, drink off the drink menu. I had a seltzer (having had more than my share of Scotch earlier in the evening). We prepared Mara for what she'd find at Le Trapeze, and we were on our way. As we exited the bar, Jen suggested the three of us crowd into the revolving door together. That was nice, as I found a hand on each of these two gorgeous women's gorgeous asses for the first time in the evening.

Ten minutes later, we were walking through the doors of Le Trapeze. We took Mara on a short tour of the front of the place, greeted the now-familiar couple I've described before as an Asian guy and his cute/hot girlfriend or wife with perfect breasts and glasses, and let ourselves into one of the private rooms off to the side of the hallway leading to the locker room. (Turns out, he's not Asian; he's Venezuelan. What can I say? Le Trapeze is dark.) "Don't go anywhere!" I said to them.

We closed, but didn't lock, the door to our little room. The three of us kissed. I had two handfuls of ass, of delicious, yummy ass, as we kissed, and my cock was straining against my jeans. "Lie down!" Jen said to me.

"Yes ma'am!"

I lay down on the bed, and watched as the two women continued making out. I stroked my cock, watching, stroking, through my jeans. Jen kneeled down and removed my jeans. She didn't wait long, didn't tease me too much, before she put her mouth on my cock, first licking, then more enthusiastically sucking. Mara came around and began kissing me as Jen was sucking. She was a great kisser, enthusiastic, almost violent – she would suck my tongue hard, send hers probing deep into my mouth. It was as if she was seeking my limits.

After a few minutes, they switched, and Jen and I made out while Mara sucked my cock. Her mouth was phenomenally warm, moist, and attentive.

The door opened. In walked the couple (I need names for them – let's say Jack and Diane). Jack stood in the corner, watching, chewing gum, stroking his cock, wearing his omnipresent baseball cap. Diane lowered herself to the floor. Jen left my mouth and began going down on Diane; Mara left my cock and started sucking Jack's bigger, meatier cock. In no time, he was fucking her doggystyle, hard. Mara was vocal, loud. She was having a good time. I kissed Diane a bit as Jen went down on her, and then we switched around. Diane climbed on my cock as I lay on my back and began riding me. Jen and I resumed making out. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jack fucking Mara, and tried to read the elaborate, script, tattoo on his belly. It was a woman's name, but not "Diane." Hmm.

Some more minutes went by, and Jack stopped fucking Mara, Diane climbed off of me. They bid their farewell. "I have to work early in the morning," Jack said. Jen said something to Diane about my blog; Diane seemed curious. I told her that if she read it, she'd find herself mentioned. I told her the address. I felt confident she'd forget it.

They stepped out of our little room. I watched as Mara and Jen resumed kissing a bit, and then as Mara went down on Jen. I kissed Jen. I fucked her face. And then, when Mara finished, I put on a condom, and Jen sat on my cock. "Sit on my face?" I asked Mara, and she did.

"Holy shit," I thought to myself. "This taste is familiar. What the fuck?" And as I thought back, as I licked Mara's clit, as Jen rode my cock, as the two of them kissed above me, I realized: when I was 15, I spent a summer in Israel. And this was the taste of Sabra.

But we had promises to keep – Mara really wanted to see a sex club, and we hadn't even made it to the locker room yet. Mara jumped off me. I pulled out of Jen, we grabbed our clothes, and headed back, toward Albert, the locker room attendant.

So back we went – we picked up our clothes and shuffled out of the dark little room in which we'd begun fucking and sucking and licking one another. Mara apologized to me: "I felt sort of bad, fucking him before we've even fucked – it's sort of a territorial thing, I mean, I came here with you, and…."

I told her to relax, that she and I would fuck. (And not so secretly, was thrilled: she's insanely hot, and from the moment I saw her, I was dying to fuck her. And of course, there are no guarantees in these things – she was Jen's friend. Would she want to fuck me? Would I want to fuck her? As I've written before, I'm not quite the slut I sometimes make myself out to be, and the world seems often to be filled with women who don't want to sleep with me.)

Anyway – the good news was, Mara wanted to fuck me.

So back we went, to the locker room. Albert gave us two lockers, one on top of the other. There was some brief discussion about whether the women should retain their panties or go bottomless. ("It's one less thing to keep track of," I pointed out, to winning effect.) We wrapped ourselves in towels and headed out.

The crowd this night was attractive. Le Trapeze is variable, both in terms of numbers and quality. Some nights, there seems to be no one there; other nights, only fat septuagenarians (nothing against being either or both – just not my personal turn-ons); other nights, only nebbishy older guys with paunches and younger African-American prostitutes; still other nights, only Russian mobsters. But this night, it was looking promising. We peeked in the big party room, saw four or five hot couples fucking in there, and headed up the spiral staircase. On the way, we passed an attractive couple – a hot brunette in thigh-highs and black silk panties, and her somewhat less attractive, shorter, boyfriend/husband. "Join us?" I said to them as we walked past, toward one of the smaller, 2-3-couple back rooms.  "May we just watch?" she asked, in some Eastern European-accented English. "Of course."

Jen, Mara and I settled down in the back corner of the upstairs of the club. The hot couple settled down in the corner, by the door, where the view was best.

I don't recall the sequence, exactly, but there was kissing, and fucking, and sucking. There was a growing audience at the door, as Jen and Mara (clearly the two hottest women in the club – lucky me!) made out while Jen sat on my cock (or did she? did this happen yet?). After a bit, there was some rotation, I went down on Mara some more, on Jen some more, both women sucked my cock, Mara went down on Jen, there was more kissing. (Jen was reluctant to go down on Mara because she had her period; this doesn't/didn't deter me.)

After a bit, there was (ahem) mounting noise from the room next door. A woman was being fucked, hard, and she was clearly having a good time. The crowd at our door seemed to be shifting toward the other door. And the three of us, somewhat reluctantly, got up to look. Jen had a clear line of sight, as the hot brunette was being pounded, standing, against a wall that seemed suddenly flimsy. Mara couldn't quite see, so she climbed atop the fucking furniture. And me? I really was content to watch Mara. As she stood, I found myself smacking her ass, hard, watching her flesh jiggle, enjoying her yelps of surprise and pain, as she tried to keep her eyes on the fucking couple.

Mara asked me what the furniture was for, and I suggested she lie back. She did. It's not very comfortable, being made of a combination of steel and latex, with slight padding, but it held her as she reclined, her legs spread. I slid my cock into her, and began fucking, hard. Her head was banging intermittently against the padded metal and the wall behind it. She didn't look comfortable, but I kept going, at least for a few minutes, pounding into her. (She wasn't comfortable, but she seemed to be feeling pretty good, and I knew I was feeling pretty fucking awesome.) All the while, the woman in the other room was moaning more and more loudly, and the audience was increasingly finding itself torn: watch the loud chick, or the hot one on the steel furniture?

Eventually, Mara's discomfort (or at least my sensitivity to the possibility of it – I know, some dom) got the better of me, and I eased her up. "Let's go downstairs," I said.

The three of us walked down the hallway, and down the spiral staircase, up to the front of the club. We got some water and lemonade and wine (Jen had brought), and sat ourselves down on a leather couch under a TV playing raunchy porn. We chatted a bit, Mara's hand on my cock, through the towel, keeping it hard, and Jen testing out the stripper pole. Jen's not a stripper, and hadn't previously used a stripper pole (to the best of my knowledge) but she pulled herself up to the top and spun herself around pretty expertly. Mara and I didn't have any singles (we were naked, but for our towels) but if we had, they would have been Jen's.

A few more minutes, and we headed back in, this time, to the party room. Once in there, we were, once again, the stars of the show. Over the next 45 minutes, Mara rode my cock, Jen sat on my face, we all made out, Mara licked Jen's clit some more, and the couple next to us, a beefy white guy and his (Russian?) wife with big, fake tits, sidled closer. ("Your tits are amazing!" said Jen. I was incredulous. Could she not tell they were silicone?!? Did she not appreciate the enormous difference between her own amazing breasts and the monstrosities to our right?) In the cab, later, on the way home, she confessed that she said that for the woman's benefit, and because she had never before felt fake tits.) And the couple with the loud chick who had been fucking down the wall upstairs sidled over, as well. There were some more fingers, some more tongues, some more kissing, some more sucking, some more fucking. I came twice – once in Jen's pussy, and once in her throat (or on her tits? now I don't remember), I think. And Mara and I discussed my view of fucking vs. oral (I told her that I think of fucking as being salad to the "steak" of oral, in contrast to how most people think about them).

Right after my second orgasm, Mara announced that she wanted some more salad. Her timing was exquisitely bad. I had just cum, as had the loud chick's partner, as had the fake-titted chick's partner. I pointed to an older guy with a raging hard-on to our left. "You could do him?" I suggested, tentatively. He didn't look so appealing to me, and neither did the woman who was stroking that hard cock. Mara confessed that she really needed to be told what to do, that suggestions don't quite work so well for her. Ah, now you tell me, I thought. And she raised a nipple to my mouth. "Would you bite my breast?" she asked. As my teeth clenched on her nipple, on came "It's Closing Time…."

We reluctantly stood up, and found our way to the locker room. We got dressed, and emerged into the night. Mara headed to the place she was staying, just a few blocks away, and Jen and I got in a cab.

Republished with permission from My Dissolute Life. Want to see your true tale of lust on Fleshbot? Contact us. See more photos like this one at X-Art.