If there is one thing that I love the most and can’t get enough of, it’s watching people fuck.
The thing that fascinates me the most about watching other people fuck is their total surrender to their animalistic desires. When you see a person shameless in the expression of their needs, wants and cravings…that’s when you see the beauty in their soul. You ache as a result of being a witness to such an intimate act. You feel your body in places you never thought you could feel and when you observe all of this, you see God in the midst of that beauty.
The invitation came to me via my friend Rita, who knows everyone in every circle imaginable in our small community. She convinced me that before I get myself back into the sex wagon, I need to acclimate myself with sex in person — not indulge myself on Pornhub or Redtube. I need to experience the real deal, so that I can see for myself exactly what I am missing out on — hence, the exclusive swingers’ party invitation.
According to her, singles and couples who attend these particular events are screened a month before the main event. References have to be provided for those recommended so that follow ups can be made. Each invited person is required to submit their health information after a thorough medical checkup with their medical practitioner. At the end of the day, you have fifteen single people and twenty couples who are regulars and their lifestyle is swinging. I underwent the same process to get confirmed.
Rules are simple; you only play with the ones who want to play with you and if you are singled out by a husband to play with his wife, consent is very, very important. The layout of the house allows for people to meet and mingle while scoping out what interests them the most. Conversations are supposed to happen on the first floor while on the second floor, the layout is more like the Egyptian king’s hall. Tables, chairs, chaises, futons and beds are spread in different corners and angles. When you are on this floor, you are either fucking or checking out the action discreetly, hoping to join when summoned.
I arrive at the location with my friend, wearing a black long dress with a slit up to my thigh. I’m wearing panties to avoid embarrassing myself. My hair is tied up with pins in a neat bun, leaving my innocent face exposed to onlookers. The look is innocent yet daring, finished off with a black masquerade mask that makes my brown eyes pop with wonder and desire.
Inside the house, I am hypnotized by its beauty. The artworks displayed on the walls are dark, beautiful yet expressive, while the room itself is magnificent. The aura radiated is sophistication, class and sex. I accept a champagne glass from one of the male servers and drink it as I take in the people in the room. Everyone is beautiful in their own way and I smile politely, evading my gaze when a couple a few feet from me shows interest. I lower my eyes to my drink shyly, observing the men and women who are obviously single trying to mingle with some couples.
“Tell me you are feeling everything right now as I am,” Rita whispers sweetly into my ear as she stands beside me making me shiver with desire.
“I do,” I say softly. In fact at that moment, I am feeling a lot. The energy in the room is so sexual yet controlled. The potential for a night to remember makes my heart beat faster in my chest. I smile at her, letting her know with my eyes that once again, she has managed to blow my mind away.
A man comes to join us and mostly his focus is on my girl. He makes small talk and whispers something to her. As I look at them, my friend’s nipples pebble in her dress, and she takes a deep breath shifting her weight from one foot to the other. I move to get myself another drink, for I know that it is already on for my friend. I blush as I make my way to the waiter.
He gives me my drink and stands beside me as I take a sip. His eyes are intense on me and I smile nervously. “Are you here for the action or just to enjoy the view?” he asks me softly, his voice deep and soft at the same time.
“I haven’t decided yet,” I reply honestly. “What about you?”
“I am here for both. Although I have found what I am looking for in you, so my fate is yet to be determined, if your mind is not made up,” he smirks at me devilishly. “I tell you what, why don’t I take you to the second floor and leave you there to enjoy yourself, but if you want to quench the hunger that will be elicited as a result, come find me, and I will indulge you.”
I look at him — really look at him.
He is not handsome yet his features are unforgettable. He radiates masculinity and femininity, something that excites and grounds me at the same time. He is one among the men you can call ‘safe’. Not too intimidating but not too sweet either. The combination is intoxicating. I take his hand as he guides me to the second floor. He leaves me there with a soft kiss on my cheek; a kiss that is more of a promise than anything else.
I move further into the room and my attention is captured by a couple who are going at it against the wall and I am transfixed. I move behind a corner so that I can have a clear view of what is going on, and watch.
The man is tall, dark and wolfish. His body is well sculpted with big shoulders and narrow hips. The woman is obscured by the man for he is taller than her, but I can tell she is slender with curves. Her hands move to capture the man’s head in a heated kiss while her legs in five inch black pumps are raised on tiptoes so she can reach the man’s lips. He kisses her hungrily. Desperately. And she moans greedily. Wantonly.
I move again so that I can see both of them better. I stand behind a pole and get a clear view — something that makes me lean heavily on the pole for support. The sight is pure lust. The man’s hands are moving all over her body, squeezing her breasts with controlled roughness and possessiveness while her body melts to him excitedly. His hands go into her thong and I can tell he is rubbing her pussy while pinching her clit, for her expression is pure tortured desire. Her lips instinctively spread further apart as she seeks to move closer to him and allow him better access. Their breath as labored and their gazes fixed on each other are raw.
The woman wraps one leg around the guy’s waist, kissing his jaw while her hands disappear into his slacks to capture his cock. I hear his animalistic groan at the first contact and rub my legs together feeling the heat in my body rising simultaneously with their desire. He rubs her faster and I can sense the exact moment when her body splinters apart with her orgasm. She screams and loses her balance, but he holds her close and reduces the tempo of his rubbing until she calms down.
My heart is in my throat as I watch the guy remove his slacks together with his briefs. I can’t see his cock but the way the woman smiles at him with awe as she kneels before him to take him in her mouth says everything. She only licks him twice — I counted — before she is pulled up into a standing position and the man says to her, “I want you too much to come in your mouth. Let me inside you. Let me bury myself in you and drive you to ecstasy once more.”
“Yes,” she responds breathlessly.
“Wrap your legs around me,” he instructs as he lifts her into his arms. She does so. And he buries himself into her pussy inch by inch. I see her expression of a bit of discomfort as he enters her, then I watch as her nails sink into his back and he pushes his way in, I see the way her lips are parted in awe as he buries himself to the hilt and I can’t help myself as I move my hand to grab my breasts and squeeze them to make me feel better.
The man starts to move slowly at first, and then gains momentum as she becomes comfortable with his size. The muscles in his ass bunch up as he moves in and out of her creating such an erotic picture in my eyes. The dominance he exudes as he holds her close. The power in his thrusts. The voice in his grunts all leave me so wanton while her cries of desire make me wish I was the one being fucked against that wall.
He fucks her like he is starving. He fucks her like his life depends on it. He fucks her like it’s his last fuck. He fucks her good until she screams again and again. Until I feel him fucking me too against that pole and I move my hands under my dress and into my panties to rub myself shamelessly with my eyes closed, until I climax.
When I open them, my eyes met theirs; they are looking at me as I pleasure myself. I acknowledge them with a nod and leave them to their privacy as I move away and further into the room in the opposite direction.
They saw me before I saw them and the moment my eyes landed on them, I was a goner. A husband and wife invited the waiter into their ménage. Two men, one woman. There is nothing better than an extra pair of hands pleasing a woman. She positions herself between them as each man caresses her breasts from each side of her. The husband kisses his wife hungrily while the waiter moves to kneel in front of her, raising her legs to his shoulders and kissing her softly on the calves, then thighs, moving higher to her pussy.
She moans loudly and I take a seat on a fold-up chair near the bed, looking at them. The waiter rubs her pussy with slow, deliberate strokes. She groans with frustration ,asking him to go faster and deeper. He looks at her being kissed by her husband and says with the arrogance of a hunter who already caught its prey, “My hand will remain on your pussy, fuck yourself the way you want to with it.” Both the wife and husband look at him with questions in their eyes, and he remains impassive to their petty dislike of his offer.
The wife moves towards him on the edge of the bed removing her red dress in the process. The waiter positions his hand as promised and she starts to fuck herself with it to her tempo. The position makes her vulnerable yet so desirable that the husband moves to stand on the bed and tilt her head to her side — to his cock — to suck him. And she suck him while fucking herself on the waiter’s hand; his eyes are fixed on me as I squirm uncomfortably in my chair, desire overwhelming my body.
They fuck like that for some time or maybe just a few minutes, I can’t tell, for my body is on fire. The husband comes in the woman’s mouth and the waiter decides to end her misery by pinching her clit and inserting his fingers into her pussy. She comes just like that, screaming her head off, making me yearn for the attention of two men.
I don’t wait to watch them calm down from their high. I rush to the end of the hall and enter a bathroom, hoping to splash myself with cold water; only to find two women, naked, kissing and grinding on each other’s pussy, one sitting on the edge of the sink in the powder room while the other stands in front of her kissing her passionately, their nipples touching. The sight is too erotic for my already ablaze body.
I watch them fuck each other, oblivious of me or the fact that they did not lock the bathroom door. Transfixed. Dazed.
Two women. Two soft bodies. I hear there is nothing like a woman’s body or touch on another woman. Every touch is laced with femininity. Sweet and soft, amplifying the emotions ten times more than what a man can elicit. With women there is no hurry, for we know where to touch, how to touch, how long to touch, how hard to touch and when to let go. With women every sense and emotion is heightened. I have nothing to compare to; but this sight right here is pure heaven.
I leave the bathroom once they reach their peak, leaving them to their intimate moment. I have to leave this party, I tell myself. So I move to do just that. I rush out of the room not looking where I am going and I bump into the hard body of a man. He grabs my hands before I can fall backwards. The waiter. He is looking at me, holding me tight. I am breathless with too much pent up desire, my body on fire.
“I have to go,” I tell him hurriedly, my words spilling without coherence.
“Don’t you want me to take care of you and make you feel better?” he asks me seductively.
I manage to disentangle myself from his grasp and I stand there looking at him, feeling my willpower crumble with each heartbeat.
He spins me around and trains my gaze to look at a couple who are seated on a chair. The woman is riding the guy’s cock slowly, moving up and down unhurriedly; as if they have all the time in the world. The woman’s eyes are closed with ecstasy while the guy kisses her neck, breasts and every part of her body that he can, as if he can’t get enough of her; can’t get enough of touching her.
“You see that. That is the look of a woman who has never enjoyed another man’s cock in her pussy except her husband’s. Look at how she lets go of herself with abandon and no care in the world, knowing that after tonight she will return to her husband’s bed and he will know how desirable she is in another man’s hands. Look at how her husband is looking at her.”
I look in the direction he is pointing me to and indeed, the husband is in the corner, watching them with naked lust and desire, his hands working his shaft up and down: appreciating his wife; feeding off on his wife’s desire as she’s pleasured by another man.
We don’t stay and finish the scene. He pulls me in the other direction and I see a man fucking a woman on all fours. “Look at him,” he whispers in my ear. I do. And like I said before, there is nothing more potent and beautiful than watching a man fuck.
This guy is moving inside a woman with passion, aggression, desire, lust and something that I can’t name. There is rawness in his fucking that you don’t see in most lovers who have been together for a long time. Here, this man has no inhibitions, and his focus is on his animalistic needs. Usually with couples who have been together for some time, there is security in their fucking. It’s like they are checking their desires, measuring them to make sure they are appropriate. They are guarded — something that makes sex intimate but lacks the rawness of emotions, desire and unrestrained passion.
The man has let go and so has the woman. Perhaps the assumption that they won’t see each other the next day gives them freedom to express their darkest, deepest desires; desires that many of us don’t express for the fear of being viewed as too much, or too perverted or too damaged. We don’t want to be judged.
The waiter kisses my earlobe and bites it gently. “Go home, bad girl who is not ready to be bad, yet. And when you are ready to be corrupted and play, give me a call. I have slipped my card in your bra.” He kisses me long and hard on my lips and vanishes down the stairs.
I touch my lips and release a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding; then exit the building without looking back.
I arrive home late and enter my bathroom leaving clothes on the floor — a trail that if I had a lover, would signal he is allowed to ravish me. Instead I fuck myself with my fingers while the hot water caresses my skin and I climax. However, my body is still consumed with desire. I take the shower spray and angle the high pressured water on my clit, rubbing myself once more until I orgasm.
I enter my bedroom and put on my pajamas. My nipples are tender and yearn to be touched. My pussy is wet, needing a man to fuck me like a maniac. My whole body vibrating with need. I smile to myself. I am alive. I grab my pillow and hump it slowly as I coax my body to climax once again, then relax and sleep.
