Scene from a Marriage
Penetration
Most wives would kill their husbands for doing something like this. Mine takes pictures.
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The Seduction of Orpheus (Part Two)
I stood on a dance floor in a little nook that was bordered on two sides by curtains. Leslie was kissing DangerGirl, the Hostess of the party at which I’d met Peaches. The two of them were topless. I sipped my vodka and spoke with a tall, slender woman who stood next to me.
“I can’t believe you’re so blasé about your fiancée kissing another girl,” said the fetching brunette.
“It’s not like this is an unusual occurrence. And how often do you think these things would happen if I stood here drooling like a Neanderthal?”
“I suppose that’s a good point.”
I allowed my eyes to wander over her — I was drinking her in, but not in a predatory manner. I’d seen the pretty girl’s picture in a magazine once and was surprised to find her on the circuit. From the tone of her questions I’d pegged her as a tourist.
The rear of the loft, where most of the actual sex took place, was as crowded as a cheap European railcar at the height of the summer travel season. Leslie was going down on her date. The tourist and I were the only ones fully clothed amid this sea of flesh.
“I don’t usually play much at these things; I don’t know why,” I explained, reaching out to paw at DangerGirl’s breasts. Whatever Leslie was doing to her made her wince with pleasure. “There’s something awfully gauche about massive orgies.”
The tourist’s dark eyes searched mine. “So why do you come to these parties then?”
I had to think for a moment. “Where else can I walk around with my cock out if the mood strikes me?”
Leslie, DangerGirl and I found a capacious bathtub in the shower room. “I wonder whether we can fit three people in there,” mused my woman. Once the bath was drawn the two giggling chicks eased themselves into the tub. I shrugged and stripped down to my gentleman’s thong, wincing as I lowered my balls to the hot water. The jungle remix of “Come Together” blared over the speakers on the dance floor and I recalled the previous night’s discussion with Peaches. Synchronicity is a queer thing; I sometimes feel as if I’m the only one paying any attention.
The two women played while a male friend of DangerGirl handed us sex toys. My cock floated in the sudsy water, then stiffened when DangerGirl grabbed at it. I laughed. The tourist stopped in to say goodbye. I admired her ass as she sauntered out. At least now she knew there was something real behind the urban legend of the naked loft party.
The party was on its last legs by the time we emerged from the shower room. I was going commando now and it felt great, as it always does. Leslie, apparently unconcerned that we stood in a high traffic area, opened my button fly and took my penis into her mouth. DangerGirl, dressed in a flowing bathrobe, frowned at me, then cocked her head and said “Why the hell not?” before sinking to her knees. It was probably the oddest thing anyone’s ever said before giving me a blowjob. Two women who stood nearby observed the cocksucking hijinks and chuckled.
I sat on a couch, waiting for DangerGirl to collect a few people for an after-party. A tall black woman with fairy wings approached Leslie, who stood within earshot. “Is it okay if I kiss your boyfriend?” she asked Les, and when my fiancée nodded the willowy beauty sat next to me. I was a bit shy at first, but then I remembered where I was and pressed my lips against my newfound companion. I still held my wet underwear in my fist.
DangerGirl’s room was a righteous mess, the floor covered wall-to-wall in mattresses and colorful clothing and curious knick-knacks. There were six of us now, an Asian woman and two men having joined us for the festivities. The two gentlemen used toys on the Asian girl as Leslie, DangerGirl and I ménaged in our cozy corner. “Put your big sausage in me,” DangerGirl said. Her body was taut yet still soft enough that it jiggled in the proper places. We experimented with the female condom — it was not to my liking.
We were exhausted, the three of us, and eventually sex gave way to sleep. When Les and I awoke from a short nap we gathered our things in preparation for the great escape from Brooklyn, bidding farewell to the three others, who were talking now and still very much awake. I kissed DangerGirl on the cheek; she did not stir.
“May as well take the train,” I told Les as we stood on the sidewalk squinting in the morning sunlight.
“Yeah.”
“She really does look like Lindsay Lohan by the way… I find that disturbing.”
More: Sex Party | Orgy | Swingers | Threesome | Voyeurism
Sexy Field Trip
Montreal, 2007
The obvious downside to having a bisexual wife is that she’s always poaching your girls.
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