Written by warrenm2
8 Oct 2009
The adult club
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3 minute read
We’re all in the adult club, the music is pumping, there are a tremendous amount of people. You can feel the heat, you can feel the sexual energy, people dressed in erotic clothing, leaving very little to the imagination. In darkened corners people are copulating, they are writhing in the darkness. I’m biding my time, walking around, observing, noting who is responsive, who is playful. I walk up to a group and observe for a while.
An opening in the group appears, I move forward effortlessly, taking charge of the space. I walk up to the girl, and smile. She is lying on her back, propped up against a chaise-longue. Her legs are slightly parted. She is slightly dazed through the music, through drink, through her previous experiences, I don’t know and it doesn’t matter. I command her attention through my presense. I put my finger in my mouth, withdraw it slowly, and touch the centre of her chest. She smiles. I run my finger down through her cleavage, down across her stomach, circling her belly button only briefly, moving on further down. Her hips rise to meet me. I tease her gently, either side of her lips which are now exposed to me. She is eager for me to continue, her eagerness is apparent on her thighs, which glisten with her arousal.
I insert my middle finger, she stiffens slightly and moans, the music providing the rhythm of our passion. My finger goes in deeper and deeper, seeking that spot that it knows, people around us paying us little attention, caught up in their own worlds of ecstasy. My finger finds the spot. I press. Her chest arches forward, her head back, her mouth opens, I know what she is feeling. I pick up a steady rhythm, her body takes on a different energy, a stronger, stiffer, more intense, energy as she realises the pleasure that I am giving her. My fingers drumming out the steady rhythm, the steps of the passion that she climbs, her core being taking over now, her body disjointed from reality and yet more alive than ever. Her breath gasping now, harshly, but so erotically, as she quickly feels the pleasure taking her over.
And then it happens. She stiffens completely, her face contorted in that beautiful agony. Her hips jerking away from my hand, her muscles almost expelling my finger, as she comes so hard. I whisper to her “That’s right, Come harder, keep coming” The music drowning her noise as reality zig-zags around us. I am drawn into her world, but still just a pale observer. She collapses back, a rag doll, wringed of pleasure, the intense experience exhausting her. She opens her eyes, a new set of eyes, seeing a new world, shocked by the intensity of this new discovery, unbelieving and yet having experienced it. Slowly returning, she starts to struggle to understand, questions forming on her lips.
I smile to her once more, and ask “Would you like to feel it again?” Without even waiting for an answer, I reinsert my finger, locate that magic spot and once again begin the journey to ecstasy. Quicker this time, lips moving, words that look like “oh my god” lost in the driving beat of the backdrop which fades away as my finger pushes her quicker this time to orgasm. She comes hard but less rigid, my finger holding on this time, pushing through her orgasm. She keeps coming more intensely but more internal. I have lost her; she has gone somewhere else, a place of total sensation. After a while, she returns. She is confused, she knows that she has experienced something so special, but she does not know what it is. I thank her, kiss her briefly and am gone to the next group.
Dedicated to Sally