Sunday, June 30, 2013

Eyes Wide Shut

This was a sex party. Make no mistake about it. Everything else was just a cover up, a warm up, a foreplay. It started with people frolicking, and it ended with people fucking. This was a story told in a first person point of view, with an intention to give readers a more intimate view of a quintessential San Francisco styled sex party, or as the politically correct term referred as a "Play Party". As per usual, everything in this story and every person are fictionalized.

Eleven-Fifteen. Arrived at a building with the street address and an iron gate. A doorman behind the gate.

I approached the iron gate. The doorman behind the gate greeted me and my companion. He asked a lot of questions before opening the door.

"Greetings. Beautiful people. I see that you are properly attired." Man in white suit greeted us. He asked if this was our first time. It was. My companion took the tickets out and showed them to the check-in crew after we were debriefed.

I had just begun to realize that my companion had on a very silky dark blue patterned shirt and a tight fitting black slacks. He looked dashingly 1960s Mad Men stylish and handsome. He was not tall, at 5'10", and slim, he looked distinguished and a bit nerdy. My six inch heel made me nearly as tall as he was.  Though I would never feel attracted to him the same way as I did with my ex, he would be a good stand-in, for the evening. God I missed my ex. I missed him irrationally, and I knew he'd genuinely like this. No one was as kinky as he was. And I loved him for that. I loved him like I had never loved before. And when it ended all I could do was cry, for days and weeks. Until my tears dried out, and my heart torn apart. How could he leave me? Why wouldn't he want to be with me? Why did he lie to me? I couldn't figure out so I quit. I quit him cold turkey and I could still feel the residual effect.

This was a kinky sex party with secret code, secret greetings and secret rooms. It was the reality TV version of Eyes Wide Shut. Everything went on here, stayed here.  I had been a member since a year ago. I deeply enjoyed watching people having sex. I liked having sex in public. I liked women. I liked men. I liked BDSM. I had very little sexual boundary. I was, however, choosy about my sexual partner. I liked a certain type.

"Know your pal and stay close to your pal."
"No photos."
"No making others uncomfortable."
"Drink responsibly."

Man in white jacket read out loud the code, which was written on a poster, mounted on the wall.

"Enjoy the evening." Said the check-in lady.

Disco dance floor. Check.
People in costume. Check.
Make out room. #1. Check.
Communal bathroom. Check.
Outdoor patio. Check.
Bar. Check.
Make out room. #2. Check.
Carnival Game Room. #1. Check.
Carnival Game Room. #2. Check.

BYOB. Damn it, should have brought a bottle of red wine. Duly noted. Note to self, bring a bottle of wine next time.

My companion, I would call him C, from now on, for easier reference in this story, had brought a flask of rum. We mixed rum with coke. He treated me like a kid. I was only a decade younger but he treated me like a little girl sometimes. He gave me a weak drink mix because he said that I couldn't handle liquor.

A woman in pink tutu and glasses, short and plump, complimented my dress. It was a French designer, bought at the designer's flagship store in Paris. Silk, hand made, glittery and theatrical. I chatted with her and informed my pending departure for France. She was friendly and curious. I brought my companion forward, C smiled politely to the girl, not at least interested in her. C held my hand, afraid that I'd disappear. C did not like social settings. He took the Xanax I brought for him. He liked being indoors and did his things. He did not care for my set up but he came because he was intellectually curious about such place. He liked people could be free and do whatever what they want. He was liberal like my ex, who appreciated the fact in this part of the world, a fringe culture thrived and people could be whatever they wanted to be. C chose class and my ex, B would have dressed up in a costume and fucked me in public. C was more inhibited. But C was here and B would not be here, with me.

I walked over to the Kissing Booth. I had heard of such things. You were kissed, consensual kissing booth.  A volunteer encouraged me to participate. So I did. A woman and man began to kiss me. I liked mouth to mouth kissing. So they kissed me. It felt good to be kissed by a woman and man. Then I asked C to participate. He kissed the woman. Unwillingly. But he was a good sport about it.

A carnival game was going on. I needed to toss the ring to the dildo attached to the woman's crotch. I failed. A sandbag need to be tossed into a hole. I tossed 5 sandbags into the hole, 5 out of 5. Impressive apparently. A big prize was given to me. I took my stuffed animal into another room. A bit of BDSM action was going on. The electrical shock was quite something. I had seen them being done to women at the Public Disgrace shoot but never had it done to me until now. I was quite fond of it. I must admit that this could be my new thing.

C was not into this. I could tell. But I had to come with someone. I went to the balcony to chat with people.

A rather plump woman dressed as a green clown and a rather skinny woman dressed like a sailor came in to make out. Then they took off to another room. Soon the plump woman was bopping her head, she was giving a male clown a blow job. I wondered if I should be fatter so that I could give better blow jobs. I heard that women who were less attractive tended to be better at giving heads.  I didn't have nearly the same level of dedication. I liked it all right, I loved sucking on my ex's cock, but I liked more to be eaten out or fucked, as a general preference.

A very round bi woman with glasses started to remove her clothes. I was rather turned on by her large breasts. She looked rather comfortable naked.  I could tell this was not her first rodeo. Another woman joined her. They were intertwined. C did not find them attractive, I did.  Now the sailor woman was giving another clown a blow job inches away from me. I was wondering if C was getting any ideas. He seemed mildly amused but not turned on. I was but I had no partner to perform on so I watched.

A pretty blonde was giving a free poll dancing. A gorgeous woman was offering her pussy to a man, he was eating her out. He had a small g-string on. The woman was dressed in a lingerie outfit, with her pussy exposed. A middle age white woman, big, with unshaved pussy was riding on top of a skinny, sleepy older man. A short Indian man was joining in. I looked around, there was another couple fucking. The woman who had red hair had also an unshaved, unmanaged pussy. It was a bit of mess down there. I wondered why women don't shave or at least trim. It looked unsightly.

A colorfully dressed hostess came to the dance floor to dance. The Trashkan Marchink Band started to perform and they looked sexy, goofy and edgy. A woman spilled drink onto my silk Parisian dress.  I went over to the unisex bathroom to wash the red wine stain off. Men and women all piled into a small bathroom and everything seemed natural. I felt hot so when I got out very quickly. I went over to the patio where C was waiting for me. He was quiet and unimpressed. But he said that he was having fun. He liked fringe culture. He liked people being free so I continued my cruising.  The kissing lady was having a drag of cigarette, and I wish that I could smoke but I didn't want to ruin my dress. The white jacket man who debriefed us at the beginning was there also, though I had already forgotten about him until C told me who he was. He thought that we were a couple. C preferred to have me sitting on his lap, like a little girl and he bounced me. A very sexy woman walked towards me, "You have a lot of cuteness going on." She complimented me, and went further explaining to me why I was cute. C always thought that I was cute, and sexy. White jacket man thought C was my date, and was slightly jealous of C's hands that were now under my dress. I liked C keeping his hands busy by grabbing my butt, I was not really that interested in his cock, but I liked being touched.

In the other room, through the window I saw two people started to fuck. The green clown woman came running into the room, and lifted up her skirt, and offered her pussy to the man who was fucking another woman, he took up on her offer by jamming his cock into her exposed pussy. She giggled and fondled the other woman's breasts. That turned me on slightly. I then looked over to the other room, there were now six couples, completely naked and fucking. A couple had congregated on a day bed, the same day bed that C and I were sitting just about 10 minutes ago, and started to fuck. There were clean towels, condoms and lubs in glass bowls next to the beds.

I went back to the bar area but then C dragged me to dance floor. C wanted me to dance. I had not danced for a long time. I used to like to dance, I used to dance seductively until I got men to go home with me. But I stopped dancing. C wanted me to dance. I took a sip of rum from his flask. Then another. I was feeling tipsy, enough so that I started to dance to the disco music. C followed me. He liked to dance. He did not dance like a white man, he danced well, in his Don Draper on holiday outfit. I wished that I could find C to be more attractive, he was no doubt a very good looking man, but I was still in love with my ex. My ex who tied me up, spanked me, covered my mouth while fucking me, pissed into my pussy and my mouth, and kissed me after. The filth, the insatiable hunger for sex, fringe sex, with me, made me realize that we were all made for one person and one person only. The one person who understood us and saw us for who we were at our core, was the person we must be with. It was that simple.  Or it ought to be.

I couldn't possibly love another like I did before. My ex got under my skin, by knowing, appreciating, and enjoying sex the same way I did. He was into BDSM sex as much as I did, and I missed it.

C started to hold my face and kiss me. He held my face tight, inches away from him, so that my face was right where he wanted. He first kissed me feather light, then he kissed me harder, finally he pressed me against the wall so that I could then feel his growing cock, pressing against me, being rubbed against me, in front of everyone on the dance floor.

When I was ten I was molested on a bus going to school. It was a public bus, a grown man in his late twenties got on one stop after I did, four times a day - morning, lunch break, evening, he found me and pressed his erect penis against me,  made me feel his erect penis, and stuck his fingers inside of my virginal pussy.  I was molested for a year and no one did anything to stop this awful evil scary man, and as a result, my radar and sensors had been permanently broken. 

A TV actor showed up at this party. He looked very adorable. I recognized him from a popular show. Here no one was allowed to take photos. He was free to roam around. A gorgeous man with glasses showed up. He was a model. I recognized him in a recent print ad.

I wondered what they were doing here.  There were other places to meet women or men. But this was the only place everyone was anonymous.

C wanted to take me home. He wanted to fuck me. He was turned on by kissing me. I didn't want to go. I was comfortable among naked fucking people. This was my scene, I could be anonymous and friendly. I could be anyone here and no one would pass any judgment. Unless you violated the house rules.

I started to wonder if I should let C to fuck me.When I had sex with men in the past, I often kept my eyes open and I stared right back at them, I would be soundless as I moved on top of them to ride them in cow girl style. I looked back at them as they entered me from behind.  My quietness often made them either become self aware or it turned them on even more. I played this role well - this submissive sensual woman who was sexy and knew her place. I kept myself clean. Shaved, bathed, clean and tidy. I got aroused quickly and I stayed aroused. Men thought they were the reason that I was wet. I was wet because I enjoyed sex.  I was a human fuck machine that would be quite easily operated on,  I felt physically good when I was having sex. But, I felt nothing emotionally.

I was thinking about that loose green clown woman with robust hips and thighs, when a man entered her, she was giddy with joy and she made noises that sounded like a strangled chicken. I wanted to laugh. I thought what if I saw my ex fucking another woman, this clown woman or any other woman, would I be bothered? I realized that I wouldn't. Just like I was not bothered by C kissing another woman or knowing C was fucking another woman. I had no sense of jealousy, I simply wanted to be loved back in an honest, non-conventional, non-exclusive, sexually free way. I wanted human contact. I was just like this party, where no limits was the only limit, as long as it was done in a consensual way.

C asked me, "Would you be OK if you were fucked in front of everyone?" I answered, "Yes of course. I would be fine. I don't think I'd be inhibited." C said, "I really would not feel comfortable about it. I preferred to do it at the privacy of my home."

"Yes I know." I answered.

I had always wanted to go down on my ex in front of people. I would have liked if my ex fucked me in his animal suit, here. I thought it would be cool if he watched me being spanked by the spanking experts. I knew he'd like it. I would have liked for him to watch me going down on a woman as he fucked me silly. This would have been such a place. This would have been perfect for us to take our relationship to the next natural level. But then he had to leave.

C asked me, "Have you ever been in love? What was it like?"

"Yes. I had been. For the person I loved,  I would have died for him. I would have done anything for him. I would be fine if he was seeing others on the side. I simply wanted him to love me back and saw me consistently. I wanted him to stop lying to me. I wanted him to not just say that he loved me, but to show me that he was capable of loving me." 

My companion for the evening was asking me heavy subjects. I was always cool, collected, non-emotional and confident in front of him. I didn't know how he felt about all that, after I told him the truth. I did love before, and I'd never love him.

There was a broken-hearted little girl who had lost her innocence many years ago. She was always looking for something, something that would change the course of her life, I was not sure if she found what she was looking for, but it would not have mattered, she lost the person who would have, could have, been her soul mate.

But I did know one thing - When she arrived at this party, where no one cared to know who she was, what she was like, and where she was going, she was finally, safe and sound.




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