‘There are no innocent bystanders … what are they doing there in the first place?’
– William S. Burroughs, Exterminator!
His hands grip my hips to hold me firmly in place as he kicks my feet further apart. I bend over to rest my elbows on the black raised bed, balancing on my tiptoes as I rock forward. My cunt is greedy and aching, and I push back, groaning as he fills me again. Building up a rhythm, he fucks me harder; each thrust sending hot torrents through my body until all my skin feels like it’s sparkling, each thrust rubbing my nipples deliciously on the bed, each thrust expanding the heat of my orgasm within me until I feel like I might shatter, or burst, or explode, or any of those words used to describe the indescribable. Just at that moment, he grabs my hair and pulls my head back to show me what he can see; what he’s been looking at while he’s been fucking me.
She’s watching us. Lying on the bed next to us, limbs still entangled with the couple she was fucking when we came up the stairs; but not watching them, watching us. Watching me. We make eye contact and she smiles a little; a lazy satisfied smile that is like a punch in my gut and my body melts into a shuddering, moaning mess as I come hard around the cock of the fucking hot sailor behind me, over and over as he pounds deeper and deeper, under the gaze of the fucking hot stranger in front of me.
I have made a habit of hiding how nervous I am. It’s another personality trait I can probably blame on my job – no one wants a doctor visibly shaking with fear when they approach you with a massive needle – but it leaks out in other ways. I become obsessed with the aspects and details that I can control. I found a fabulous dress. I tested four different lip stains in the week before this party to find the best, long lasting shade. I had a small freak out about what underwear I should or shouldn’t be wearing, and which bag I should take. And I get flustered; perfectly demonstrated in the ridiculous pratfall of a dive down a flight of stairs I took as we left, how I subsequently completely missed a pretty fantastic joke made about it, and then got to the bus and realised I’d forgotten my Oyster card. My usual polished and organised veneer that I use for unfamiliar circumstances was definitely cracking!
Because I didn’t want to be nervous about what would happen when we got there. Too much was unknown, but I knew I didn’t need to be nervous. The fluttering of my stomach was recognisable as nervous energy, combining with an intense but apprehensive excitement and an ever increasing arousal that was admittedly making me feel nauseated, but I really didn’t want to be nervous. It was only a sex party after all; a members-only fetish and BDSM event. No big deal. (*gulp*) I reassured myself that I wasn’t going alone and we had already talked about what we did and didn’t want to do there, so I didn’t need to feel unsafe. And I reminded myself that sex parties featured much too highly on my list of curiosities not to go.
So I hid my nerves, fell down the stairs, and went out with my head held high!
As we kiss, he pushes aside the fronds of my skirt and scratches along my thigh. My underwear has already been abandoned, an unwanted impediment stuffed into my handbag, and he is soon touching my cunt, still wet and swollen from when we were fucking. I am so sensitive that I start to tremble almost immediately; the slightest pressure of his fingertips creating a disproportionately large reaction in my body.
‘What can you see?’ I ask, thinking that I’ll know the answer. There is a group on the four poster bed to our left; one is still tied up and they were loosening her bindings last I saw. In a chair in front of them, an older man is fingering his partner, bringing her to a screaming orgasm. There’s another bed across from us where a naked couple are fucking next to two women who are perched on the edge of the bed casually chatting. I expect him to tell me all of this, but instead he says something that rockets straight to my core, making my clit throb and leaving me dizzy with lust.
‘Did you know that from here, everyone in this room and everyone in the bar can see us?’
And just like that, I get it. I get why thinking about this party has excited me so much. Why I wanted it, needed it, so much.
I am an exhibitionist, just one who has always hidden behind an ingrained belief that I should behave appropriately in public. I really, really like to be watched, I want to be watched. But by people who want to see. That’s the key! I’ve never realised it before because I’ve never had the opportunity to indulge like this. I’ve only ever revelled in the risk of exposure, the possibility of exhibition. Fucking in a car park or being fingered on a bus is unbelievably hot, but I know I would be mortified if we were actually caught. I don’t want to be seen by someone who looks away in surprise or is embarrassed by what they see. I don’t want to impose myself on someone who doesn’t want it.
I want to be seen by a voyeur. I want to be seen by someone who loves watching as much as I love being watched. Because nothing turns me on like being the cause of another person’s pleasure.
I unbutton his trousers and drop to my knees, taking his cock into my mouth. I can taste myself still on his skin. His hands curl in my hair, clearing it off my face and pulling it back to control my movements as I work my tongue around his shaft, sucking the head and licking up the precum as it collects against my lips. He groans; a heady sound that should be out of place in this crowded room, in sight of the bar and surrounded by people. But it’s not, it’s fucking hot, and I can feel my thighs becoming slick with my need for him. I wonder if anyone has turned to look at us, distracted by the beautiful sounds that he’s making. I lean in towards him, letting his cock slide deeper into my throat, hoping that he’ll make those noises again…
It was a revelation. A literal, fucking revelation. Knowing that we were surrounded by all of these people who were there for exactly the same reason as we were, who were there to have sex and watch sex and experience it together, meant that I didn’t need to hold back. I didn’t need to worry what they would think of me and I doubt that I would have been able to shock anyone! We could fuck where everyone could see us; and it wasn’t only OK, it was expected. And that makes this one of the hottest things I have ever done. Oh, it makes me shiver every time I think about it.
He turns me to face the bed to watch them; the woman is rubbing her clit, and the man is on his knees, licking out the second woman. All of them are moaning softly, but it is loud enough to be heard over the sounds of spanking behind us. Still watching them, he unzips my dress and pulls it over my head before leading me across the room. He lifts me onto a bench and pushes my legs apart. I can see everything and everyone from here; and, because of a huge mirror opposite me, I can see us. I can see his head between my thighs and see my back arch in pleasure at the actions of his tongue; I can watch him, I can watch us. I am in heaven.
Honestly, my memories of the evening are such a hedonistic blur. I cannot wait until next time. Because, believe me, there will be a next time. Oh yes, it was fucking awesome…