“Do you want to?” Benjamin whispered under his breath.
But Celeste didn’t hear him. She was already halfway to the blue curtains. Benjamin stared in disbelief. Was this his reserved, shy wife of thirteen years?
Celeste paused at the curtains and turned to look for Benjamin, whose face betrayed his surprise. She almost giggled at how disconcerted he looked, but then realized how strange her curiosity must seem to him. It baffled her, as well, and yet the compulsion to squelch it eluded her.
“Please come in, you beautifully-nippled child,” the man said. “Those morsels look far more tasty than what’s on the buffet tables.” His brown hair was slicked back and his eyebrows accentuated. He parted his black robe to reveal a hairless, naked body sporting an advanced erection. His brilliant red mouth smiled to reveal modest fangs.
“And do bring in your handsome escort,” the woman added. She was a less endowed version of cinema star Elvira, complete with long black dress and chopped black hair. Her large, kohl-rimmed eyes glittered. Her lips matched those of her partner’s but when she smiled, no fangs were in evidence.
Celeste reached her hand out to Benjamin, who clasped it instantly. He was still on the alert for signs that she might want to make a quick and painless exit. Instead, she tugged him into the vampire couple’s space.
“I am Fitzroy and this is Ernestine,” the man said, not extending his hand.
“I’m Benjamin and this is Celeste,” Benjamin replied, nodding.
“Well, Benjamin and Celeste, Fitzroy and I are not ones for words. We prefer action. And the moment we saw the two of you, we wanted to see you in action.”
Benjamin and Celeste exchanged glances, uncertain of what these vampires were trying to say.
“Benjamin, we’d be simply delighted if you took the lovely Celeste doggy style right here in our quarters,” Fitzroy explained, stroking himself.
Celeste stared, fascinated by the man’s ease as much as by his impressive cock size. Although she’d never received such a proposition before, she couldn’t say she objected to it. If someone wanted to watch Benjamin fuck her, she rather liked the idea of obliging them.
Benjamin, whose exhibitionist streak was no secret to Celeste, welcomed the request. He looked at Celeste to confirm her interest, and seconds later, Celeste was on her knees on the round mattress, with Benjamin stuffing his dick inside her.
“Ohhhh, yes,” Fitzroy commented as Benjamin drove in and out of Celeste. “Ernestine, aren’t they a charming couple?”
Benjamin and Celeste kept one eye on the vampires to see what they were doing. Both were masturbating, but Fitzroy was much further along than Ernestine, who rubbed herself through the fabric of her dress.
“They are indeed,” Ernestine replied. “They make my blood run hot.”
A moment later, Fitzroy slumped forward and landed on his knees before Celeste. He masturbated a little more and then offered his prodigious erection to her. Its size and shape attracted her so much, she needed no more of an invitation to open her mouth and accept it.
For the first time in her life, Celeste enjoyed two cocks simultaneously. Benjamin’s pumped harder at her pussy as Benjamin watched her suck off Fitzroy. As she thought about how she must look to anyone who passed by, she felt her cunt get tighter and warmer.
And juicier.
She saw movement from the corner of her eye and realized that Ernestine had risen and was heading for Benjamin. She couldn’t see what the lady vampire had in mind but she hoped that Benjamin would like it at least as much as she was enjoying eating Fitzroy’s dick.
Ernestine’s long red fingernails danced between Benjamin’s cheeks, tickling his balls and threatening to advance on his asshole. Her touch fueled his thrusts into Celeste, who began to moan into Fitzroy’s knob.
“What a divine asshole you have, Benjamin,” Ernestine said slowly and distinctly, as if to be sure that all participants heard her. “I simply must lick it.”
She wasted no time spreading his clenched cheeks and helping herself to his sphincter. Although the position was not ideal for her, surely, she gave him a glorious rim job, circling him with sensual precision for several minutes.
“Would you ride me, Beautiful Celeste?” Fitzroy rasped. “Ride my fat cock so I can suck your titties?”
Celeste stopped sucking and smiled up at the vampire. As she moved to accommodate his request, Benjamin was forced to withdraw from her. His balls were near the bursting point, and he turned to Ernestine for relief.
“Don’t you worry, Benjamin. I’m going to ride your fat cock,” the lady vampire assured him.
Fitzroy returned to his seat at the upholstered banquette. Celeste dropped her skirt to the floor, placed her knees on either side of the man’s thighs, and mounted him as if she did it all the time. The sight of her straddling the mysterious fanged man hardened Benjamin further, especially when he saw the heavy balls and thick rod that awaited her.
Celeste felt herself cream as Fitzroy eyed her breasts and passed his fingers over her glistening cunt. As his girth filled her, light-headedness threatened to upset her balance. He stuffed her so thoroughly, she wanted to cry out.
Ernestine smiled indulgently as Benjamin watched Fitzroy and Celeste. “Sit down next to them,” she said softly.
Soon they were copycats to Fitzroy and Celeste, with Ernestine riding Benjamin in a rhythm syncopated with Celeste’s. Ernestine had hiked her dress up to her waist to expose a pantyless cunt. She rode Benjamin with the agility of a gymnast, using his neck as her anchor as she slammed down on him hard. Her pussy juices smeared across her thighs as well as his.
As Celeste bobbed up and down on Fitzroy’s cock, she let out a small yelp when Ernestine’s fingernail began to play at her ass. She looked Benjamin in the eye to see if he knew what the woman was doing while she rode him, and it was at that moment that he noticed it. Fitzroy lapped at Celeste’s nipples with his eyes closed, missing the exchange entirely.
Ernestine’s skillful fingering was the icing on the cake. The sensations pushed Celeste toward a staggering climax, and the sight of her in the throes of such passion triggered Benjamin’s orgasm. Ernestine felt it coming and disengaged from him. Fitzroy lifted Celeste off his cock before he, too, joined the petite mort club. Both men shot powerful loads that spurt high and fast into the darkness.
The men then positioned the women to replace them on the banquette, leaning them to rest against the mahogany walls to aid in their recovery. Celeste and Ernestine looked at one another and smiled, with Celeste unable to stifle a contented giggle. Ernestine reached between her own legs to wipe at her wetness, and then spread it over one of Celeste’s nipples.
“Would you like some wine, darling?” Ernestine asked her as she rubbed her pussy juice into Celeste’s skin.
“Yes,” Celeste cooed. “I’d love some.” She winked at Benjamin, who winked right back. It appeared that they would be there a while.
Plato’s Retreat
By Karmen Red
My pace quickens as I think of jumping Jenny when she arrives. I crave just a little taste, to tide me over, to start our trip out with a bang, to enjoy Jenny as long as she lasts. Karl and I have taken a few small excursions with her, our girlfriend for the last three years, but this trip we’re particularly excited about. We anticipate completing Jenny’s first time to New York City with our latest find in Manhattan’s nightlife, Plato’s Retreat. Now that it’s the 80’s, swinging is exploding with clubs catering to almost every desire and fantasy. What a bisexual gal’s delight—infinite possibility from an abundant buffet, alluring and promising. Plato’s stands alone as the pinnacle of a swing club, famous in its own time, a hotbed of disco dancing, captivating people, swinging, surprises, and amazements.
Jenny’s due soon to scheme sexy dance outfits with us, then we depart in the morning. The three of us leave a scorching path wherever we go, but Jenny and I blend our heat so uniquely we leave no one untouched. My nipples stiffen under my tank
top as I reflect on our many matching outfits, how we dress to themes at our favorite local clubs, winning contest after contest, exposing our erotic harmony. A twitch, then another, between my legs and I am utterly distracted. I change the 8-track to blues, as we’ll be dancing to disco this weekend. The beat rouses my eroticism as I lose myself in a zealous illusion, cares drawn out of my body with multiple tongues, fingers, and . . .
Karl walks in, holding a few pairs of slacks in one hand and a jacket and shirts in the other. He fusses about clothes more than any man I’ve known who isn’t gay. That’s okay, he always looks handsome.
“Suki, should I bring the navy or white slacks for dancing?”
“The white shows up better on a dark dance floor, especially with some black lighting and strobe,” I say, as I pick a red silk shirt with its wide, pointed collar to go with the slacks. We make such a stunning couple, threesome, foursome, or whatever. A tender kiss warms and comforts me, aided with a tickle from his full sandy-haired mustache, curving all the way to the jaw line. Always sporting something unique, I remind him to bring his gold neck charms; a nude woman riding a half moon, another a flasher figure with a cock that pops out at the push of a lever, with a hot, red ruby on the tip. We love to creatively indulge our exhibitionist sides, at clubs and at our home parties, but the clubs satisfy our voyeuristic natures as well.
Jenny bounces in with all her smiles and innocent good nature. Her tall, willowy dancer’s body is perfectly suited for the halter catsuit she brought with her, unlike my petite Japanese frame. Her tit-length blonde hair barely needs curling tongs to form “Farrah hair”, the big wispy flicks away from her face. My normally straight black hair is too heavy to keep flicks for long, so I’ve got massive volume with a perm, curls cascading just below my shoulders. Overall I’m pleased with my exotic looks, even with a bit too much nose from the Cherokee side. It finds itself useful against a throbbing clit, like when I’m buried in Jenny’s fine, delicate powder puff of pussy hair. The softest Karl has felt as well, we nuzzle our faces often, the smell of her salacious sweetness urging us deeper.
“Jenny, we have a surprise for you,” Karl says, as I pull out a little black box. She opens it and removes a pair of gold nipple rings, with sapphire blue drops.
“You have to try them on,” I say, pulling off her midriff top and fastening them on, pinching a little tighter with the adjustable tension.
“Okay, that’s it, we have to finish packing,” I say, just producing the nipple rings for a tease. Our aches for each other will only grow more intense as we wait. We try on outfits, prancing about for Karl’s opinion. Our transformational exercise grows hotter with each change of costume. Jenny’s beside me wearing gold spandex pants, which serve as a second skin, magnifying her rump with every shimmer of light. I’m wearing a matching silver pair. Before long we’re slow dancing, crotches grinding. I strip off Jenny’s remaining clothes, caressing her skin of fresh cream. Now we’re in matching thigh high boots, one pair white, the other pair red. Karl leisurely undresses as well, getting in the spirit of things by grabbing pieces of our outfits to assist us, occasionally seeing how they work for him.
“Not your color, babe, and a bit small. What’s that lump sticking out?”
“I sucki Suki,” Karl says in his animated Japanese play on my name.
“No, we sucki Suki,” Jenny corrected, and they do. I grab Karl in and the three of us fervently romp until at last we snuggle and fall asleep. Respecting that Karl and I need our own space, especially if she doesn’t return to her apartment for a while, Jenny retreats to the guest bedroom, where she has two dresser drawers and half a closet. The three of us are inseparable, seeming more like a couple than a threesome. I credit our longevity in part to Karl and me, secure and stable as a couple, knowing we must communicate, be excited about, and gel with, whoever shares our innovative sexual play, and often our friendship and love as well. About five years ago we had to let someone go who we loved being with, which was difficult for both of us. We couldn’t jeopardize our relationship, which is primary, or our established terms.
We wake to smells of bacon and fresh coffee and follow them to Jenny making breakfast for us. We devour it, then devour a bit of each other, just a quickie, then head to the airport. Discussions and dares about Jenny’s initiation into the Mile High Club, and our gluttony, ensue until all of the sudden we’re in New York. Damn. Perhaps we’ll give it a go on the return.
After a short business meeting, Karl joins Jenny and me as we explore Village shops, where we pick up a leather garter belt and bra set with chains and a Barbie dipped in latex. Then we head to the Metropolitan Museum to see their extensive collection of Japanese prints. We love showing Jenny another city besides our own. We’re not much older than her, but enough that we feel protective. She hasn’t been away from rural life for long, and is still a bit naïve. We don’t want to lose her to the vulture-like seductions of “professional swingers”, who smell a virgin to the lifestyle and pounce on them. She’s comfortable at our regular off-premise club, at a hotel ballroom with open bars, wild themes and contests, and a floor of rooms for further exploration. Sometimes a smaller, more intimate club relaxes a novice swinger. We took Jenny to a club in a rural area once, which started the weekend with nude volleyball, swimming and a barbeque. She was clearly in her element, and the voyeurs feasted as well.
I don’t know if we’ll have time, but another club we like in NYC is Le Trapeze, in Midtown. It’s small and intimate, with soft lighting and classic décor. A friend of Karl’s from Long Island brought his wife there for her first time when we were in town. Being with friends enhances many journeys of discovery. Here, the single hot tub is almost in its own little room, just off the locker area. A spiral staircase leads up to the swing rooms, divided off a narrow hallway. But Plato’s is in a class by itself, world famous already as a hot, hot swing club and disco. We heard Madonna was there last week. I want to see the drag queen who wears a white wedding dress and roller skates to Studio 54.
We hope Plato’s isn’t too overwhelming for Jenny. Her sensuality absolutely melts us, as does her dancing. Lessening her inhibitions involves a little cocaine, and Quaaludes relax in a delicious, glorious way. The start of the 80s has presented a new generation of mood altering substances. Many initially uncertain lovers have succumbed to their inner desires with such chemical assistance. Jenny’s close connection to us assures her trust in this, and she’s naturally curious and open to sexual experimentation. Lucky us. The innate exhilaration of genuine, giving, heartfelt sex is unmatched. Blissful moments, already existing, become magnified, elevating the soul.
Chilling indeed is recent news of a potentially fatal new virus called AIDS. Herpes has been all the talk, and now doesn’t seem so bad in comparison. Some clubs have started putting condoms in little baskets in the swing areas, along with the lube, towels, occasional eye mask, handcuffs, and other sexual accessories.
Some come just for the adult excitement. Often a couple or group coming together will stick together, getting an added kick from having sex in front of everyone in the semi-private rooms. The three of us sometimes do this. I envision the opulence of the classiest, most beautiful club we attended, in a huge city loft. The mood was set with classical music done with modern sound, nude ice sculptures at the buffet, canopied and curtained beds, and a classy crowd. A local friend joined us there one time, with a girlfriend he begged to go there with. His wife isn’t interested in the lifestyle. If men could attend clubs alone, they would be overrun with horny dicks looking for something to stick them in. Those of us who occasionally have a house party make our own rules, as they aren’t public. Women are lucky, but we generally behave. I enjoyed the scene before I committed to Karl. For a bisexual gal like me, dating a couple was the ideal situation, especially when not seeking a commitment.
We just have to show Jenny. After a great dinner, we arrive at Plato’s. Inside, near the middle of this awesome place accommodating a thousand people
or so, is a growing frenzy of disco dancing on a huge dance floor, with semi-nudity and sexy, flirty, and outrageous costumes. To the right is the Olympic sized pool, with waterfalls, surrounded by tables with umbrellas, a food bar against one wall. We catch sight of two couples wasting no time, arms and legs flailing about in impossible contortions on an angled bench. Other props and varied pieces of apparatus for creative sex positions dot the pool area, allowing people to display their sexual prowess and acrobatics. Karl and I choose a prop that spreads the legs wide, and we show Jenny what can be done on such a thing. We fool around with some possible positions and play a bit, but not for long—there’s so much to see. We take Jenny to the far end of the pool.
“This is the orgy room, where anything goes. When you step in here you surrender yourself to the masses,” I explain. Jenny looks through the window, viewing a huge floor covered with mattresses.
“I can’t believe it—you can’t tell who the arms and legs belong to, you’d never know whose mouth or hand or cock or pussy or fingers are. . .”
“Yes, it’s like the orgy room at the club back home, just bigger. The largest one I’ve ever seen,” I say.
Karl adds that in the orgy room, even UFO’s (Uglies, Fatties, and Oldies) are guaranteed to get laid. I tease him about being such a snob, but then again, we can afford to be choosy. The orgy room seems just plain animalistic. People here enjoy the natural, yet hedonistic pleasures of lust. I wonder if the orgies and feasts of ancient Rome were any different. The only thing new is the reemergence of a public venue, and group sex for all classes, not just for the amusement of bored aristocrats. The prominent and wealthy do show up here, however, and Jenny hopes Elton John comes tonight.
SWING! Adventures in Swinging by Today's Top Erotica Writers Page 10
