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11 September 2005

 

Orgy and Less

Jordan and I had been IMming for about two weeks, ever since I’d returned from New York. Finally, tonight, we were meeting.

Earlier in the day we’d discovered that we both knew about the local swingers party (Remember, the one that Discreet Rob told me about), which was being held tonight. Jordan had been in contact with a couple who were party regulars interested in playing together.


Jordan: What are you doing tonight?

Madeline: Not a thing that I know of…you?

Jordan: Well, I heard there’s this freaky party in town.

Madeline: Is it a …swingers party??

Jordan: Yes! Damn, how’d you know?

Madeline: Stick with me, kid. I know everything. Are you going to go?

Jordan: I’d like to, but I'd rather go with a date. I want to check out the scene, and we wouldn’t even have to participate, you and I. Can you get away?

Madeline: Let me see what I can do.


I got my mother to keep the boys.

We decided to meet for drinks at my favorite place.

I walked in the back door. Jordan was sitting at a small table near the front. I said hello to my friend Eric, the bartender. He was already pouring my bourbon: double, rocks. I thanked him and walked across to the table.

She was even hotter than her photos. Black, with long straight hair, impeccably applied makeup and gorgeous—I mean, really fucking gorgeous tits.

“Jordan?”

“Madeline, hi!”

I already knew she was smart and cool from our IMs. I set my drink on the table and put my handbag in the chair opposite her. I took her hand.

“What are you drinking?”

“Grey Goose and tonic.”

A girl with good taste. I knew I liked her.

I left my bourbon at the table and ordered her drink. Eric took special care with the twist.

We talked, continuing our online conversation from that afternoon, about school, kids, this town. I told her about talking with Jefferson and Marcus in preparation for the party. About how they thought it was the perfect attitude; to go without expectations. That way, if something fun happens, all the better. And if not, then nothing lost.

After two drinks apiece, she suggested we get going.

“Do you mind driving?” I asked.

“Not at all; I’m parked right out front.”

We made our way to her unassuming European sedan.

Check mark number two. This girl has such good taste. I thought of kissing her, but refrained.

Jordan's stereo played excellent music as I guided us toward the party, in a relatively new neighborhood on the outskirts of town, the words of Discreet Rob swirling in my head:

As a bi female you will be so popular; you have no idea.

“You two together?” the huge guy working the door asks.

“Yeah.”

“Go on in..”

The place is packed with people- fifty was my guess. We made our way to the backyard where there was a hot tub and people sitting around talking. On the way through the living room I noted a big screen TV with porn playing and a bunch of people sitting and watching.

I saw a guy walking around in a terry bathrobe.

"Does he think that makes him look cool?" I think to myself, "Is he operating under some false assumption that a striped Wal Mart bathrobe lends a Hefner air to his country ass?"

What the fuck?

As we walk through the house to the backyard, I can feel the eyes of people on us: Jordan the maquillaged sophisticate in her black pants, low cut top and bolero jacket, and Madeline the lip glossed natural girl in her short denim skirt, green tank and jeweled flip flops. We are so hot. In completely different ways.

Jordan sees the couple she’s been chatting with: George and Mary. The girls and I walk to the kitchen to get something to drink.

Mary is gorgeous. Black, with ringlets framing her face and an ass to die for. She has on a one-shoulder top and three tiny silver hearts adhered to the exposed skin on the right side of her chest. She gives us the tour of the house.

In the Master Bedroom there is a woman sucking a man’s dick. She is kneeling in front of him as he leans back against a dresser.

“She’s going for a record tonight,” some guy says, “trying to see how many guys she can blow.”

I am so not impressed.

I know I sound like a snob, but these were some seriously rural folks. The blowjob queen had long peroxide blonde hair. Permed. With Eighties bangs. You know what the fuck I'm talking about. The girl could have been sucking the chrome off a trailer hitch, and all I'd have noticed was the goddamned hair.

The only exception I'd make for a girl with Eighties hair is Tawny Kitaen, and even then she has to be in that white pirate shirt and heels doing the splits on the hood of David Coverdale's car.

I stick tight to Jordan. I don't think we'll be playing with others tonight. We exchange looks, rolling our eyes and laughing.

We head back outside. There is a guy wearing a vibrating glove, asking if Jordan or I would like him to touch our breasts with it. No, thanks…

I have to pee. George offers to show me the way.

While waiting for the bathroom door to open, George looks me up and down. He’s cute. He starts telling me the story of their party life.

They’ve been coming to the parties for a few months, never participating, but always watching and coming back for more. The last time, though, on their 30 minute drive home they’d been pulled over by a state trooper. Mary had been driving (and drinking, I’d wager) and declared that from now on, they’d get a hotel room when they came to the parties.

He’d like to get together privately some time.

Back on the patio, things were slow. I kept wondering when people were going to start getting naked. Jordan is talking with Mary and George. I’m kneeling behind another woman, rubbing her shoulders while talking to her very annoying husband.

The first problem of this party is exactly that: most of the guests are couples. From what I could ascertain, they come to watch porn and sit semi-naked in the hot tub. Single women are allowed, and girl-girl action is encouraged. There are no single men. No boy-boy action. I know, sounds promising, huh?

Then Jordan leans back and says, “Madeline, there is a group of girls going into one of the bedrooms…let’s go watch.”

Well, praise the lord and pass the ammunition.

We walk back to the large bedroom and push inside.

There are two skinny white girls, topless, trying to entice others to join them. One of them looks to Jordan, standing in front of me.

“Come on, beautiful, let’s play…”

Jordan is demure, “No, thanks. Maybe next time…”

She looks at me, "You look like fun...I'd like to play with you!"

"Yeah, sorry, we're not playing tonight."

The entreaties continue around the room for several minutes. Finally, the two girls head for the bed. There are about eight other people in the room. So far nobody is naked. I can’t stand this.

I lean into Jordan’s ear and say, “These folks really need some help. Fuck this, I’m getting naked.”

I kick off my flip flops, drop my skirt and pull my tank top over my head. Jordan is surprised at my speed and willingness to throw down. I really hadn’t planned on getting involved, but come on! This was the strangest sex party I’d ever heard of.

“Come on, baby, “I say, “it’s just you and me here.”

I take Jordan by the hand and lead her to the bed, joining the other two girls, making out. Jordan leaves her clothes on. We are kissing, her soft moans intensifying as she reaches a hand to my pussy. I open my eyes. Mary is there, also fully clothed. She has a nipple in her mouth and is sucking like a baby. Jordan takes the other breast to her mouth, her fingers still massaging my clit. I look over to the girl lying next to me across the queen sized bed. I cum, sighing, my hands on Jordan's and Mary's necks.

They are kissing above my body, their fingers tweaking my nipples, moaning and smiling. My cunt is wet and the bedspread is cool under my ass. Jordan comes back to kiss me. She is generating so much heat. I help her off with her jacket. We are soon at it again, and my eyes are closed against the lamplight.

I feel a vibrating hand on my right breast, and then down my belly to my clit.

“Aw, fuck, who’s using that fucking glooooovvve…”

The girls laugh. I join them.

Then, there is a hand inside me. I mean, really inside me, pressing up toward my g-spot, whereas up until now, there was only minimal penetration. This new variation was intense and hard, and ohmygodiamcumminglikeafuckingflood. It takes my breath away.

I hear murmurs of “holy fuck…she’s a gusher…goddamn…”

I open my eyes.

There are easily 20 people standing around the bed watching. Not one person is naked. Nobody’s fucking; no one’s even jerking off. They are all standing there, plastic drink cups in their hands, looking down on the five girls on the bed.

The hand inside me pulls out and I see the attached arm receding ABOVE MY HEAD. The arm is cloaked in a terry bathrobe sleeve.

What the fuck?!

A voice next to my left ear, “You are so fucking incredible. What’s your name?”

I whisper. The name I gave myself on the party’s website. I am spent. And a little weirded out by this scene.

A voice comes from the doorway, “Everybody needs to leave! The police are on their way!”

Apparently, there had been a fight (this is so fucking typical; fucking rednecks), someone had threatened to come back with a gun and a concerned neighbor had called the police.

Jordan puts her jacket back on and tosses me my panties as I scramble into my clothes and we get the fuck out of there.

We’re not finished.


9 Comments:

Blogger figleaf said...

Wow, Madeline, this actually highlights about twenty different social and sexual issues doesn't it?

On the one hand rural folks deserve to branch out as much as anyone else but on the other hand they fishtail between too tame, and when they're not too tame they're too lame. And on one hand you know they don't have many positive role models (also a problem for urbanites and suburbanites, of course) but on the other hand with insufficient experience come found-it-in-Hustler memes like the vibrating glove. And on the one hand you can be pretty sure a lot of them would get it if someone showed them how it's really done, but on the other hand just because you're experienced are you the one who should be showing them how? The big hair I don't worry so much about (they dress like that for all sorts of occasions) and the terrycloth robe (unless I'm missing something) could in other circumstances be a very practical thing to have on hand. But yeah, then there's the almost inescapable problem with rural people, drinking and guns (and now also meth and oxycontin.) Oh well, glad you got out unscathed and glad that, up to a point anyway, you were able to make something work for you.

Cool story. Good insights. Thanks.

Take care,

figleaf

9/11/2005  
Blogger ~ Storm said...

The jewel in that little story was the terry clothed arm! God, how funny, in an uh-oh sort of way.

But this epitomizes EVERY sex party I have ever been to except one. I finally stopped going unless it was to watch and be silently amused.

9/11/2005  
Blogger Freya said...

Terry cloth, mmm, sounds like my dad and oh, sooo not sexy.

I think perhaps I need to be on IM more. Ponders...

9/11/2005  
Blogger Wendy the Cavewyfe said...

As I read this, I found myself wanting to demand they all get their clothes off and start fucking. Until the police part, that is. Where is good rural leadership when you need it most?

:D

9/11/2005  
Blogger Frenchy said...

oh Maddie! how generous of you to volunteer as entertainment! I thank the good lord I attend swingers events where the rules are" ask before you touch". God bless america and smith and wesson.

9/11/2005  
Blogger Jefferson said...

Well dang, it ain't a party unless the cops come.

And I suppose that ending allowed everyone to recollect, "Why, I was just fixing to get naked when the cops came hauling ass . . ."

'Course, if a hot tub, a girl show, a blowjob contest and a vibrating glove didn't get 'em naked, well, that's just pitiful.

But what's this, you say? There's more?

9/11/2005  
Blogger Viviane said...

There's more?!

[hauling out fire extinguisher and extinguishing all cigarettes]

9/11/2005  
Blogger Mr. & Mrs SW said...

We believe that to have a successful swing party the hosts should invite couples who all know each other and are comfortable with the lifestyle. Advertised parties that are open to whom ever might drop in generally don't turn out too well

9/13/2005  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Madeline -
How do you feel about the random dude with the vibrating hand? Personally, I don't like someone touching me without permission, whether that's verbal or eye-contact based or what. Were I in that situation I'd be way happy from massive orgasm, but turned off and freaked out by random dude. However, I'm not you. So what did YOU feel?
-Lioness

9/14/2005  

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