Blindfolded and strapped in by the wrists and ankles, she had no choice. There was a get out signal, but only I knew it and she knew not to give it unless the pain overtook her high threshold.
The venue was a swingers club, Midlands, UK. A couple of old town houses knocked into one large venue. You went up one staircase inside one building, and down the other side back to the bar, but half way up one staircase, where it turns and does a 180 turn was her cupboard, her favourite place. Anyone who walked around the building had to walk past her, male or female, young or old, fat or thin, white, black or brown, all past her on their travels around the building. The play rooms were at the top, the sauna and lounge on the middle floor, and the Jacuzzi and bar on the ground floor, so it made sense for everyone to be passing continuously in search of the fun at higher levels.
We’d always start the evening off with a soak in the Jacuzzi, cuddled up together, feeling each others nakedness as a prelude to the evenings fun. Often we were joined by others, the pool could take 20, and more often than not they’d position themselves within striking distance of her. Often hands would stretch out, hidden by the bubbles, in our direction, hoping to locate her legs, seeking out what all red blooded males crave to touch. She would blush and tense as they touched her, embarrassed because she could see them, worried because they weren’t her ideal partner, scared to show she didn’t fancy their attention. Her tensing was an indication to me to turn towards them and shake my head, getting them to back off and give her space. She’d relax instantly their hands were removed.
Once we’d had our soak, we’d retire to the bar, catch up with a few friends or just enjoying each others company after a long day. She always made me feel so good, here’s me, a 45 year old guy, and there she is, a slim, tall elegant girl of 23. Beautiful from her glistening hair, through to the tips of those slender legs. Her eyes sparkled with passion and mischief when we were together, her lips always seemed to hover in front of me, glistening and moist awaiting my attention. I’d found my soul mate and we just loved to have fun together.
Eventually she motioned that it was time for some fun. We drifted up to the lockers and pulled out our blindfold. It was the most important bit, without it the fun would never start, but with it then she never worried about who it was, what he or she were doing. We carried on to the cupboard on the stairs and she let the towel slide from around her waist. I pushed it with my foot into the corner then reached up to grab the first wrist restraint, hooked into the cupboard roof. Turning her to face inwards to the wall, I strapped her wrist in place. It had to be tight, she was too good at getting out of these, her slender hands and fingers almost matching the width of her wrists. First her right, then her left wrist, then, reaching down I pushed her legs apart to a distance of about a metre, and strapped them in using the leather anklets provided. She was now spread out, star like, half way up a busy staircase. I reached for the blindfold, squeezed between her and the wall, looked her in the eyes, smiled, made sure she reacted with our secret signal and pulled the blindfold over her head. Checking it was secure and no chink of light passed by, I held her hand for a second, squeezed it to reassure her, and stepped back from her allowing the fun to begin.
It always took some time to start. People were unsure as to what we were actually doing. Was I going to take her there and then? Were they to pass by and just admire? Or were they allowed to touch? People drifted out from the rooms above and below us. They could see us from both directions and they would instinctively stop and watch to see what was happening. I stood firm, keeping my distance from her, watching for any signal, and watching the more daring of the guests slowly work towards us. It always took about 5 minutes, but eventually someone had to walk past, either because of the build up of bodies on the stairs, or purely because they wanted to move on to their favourite rooms upstairs. And so, one would walk past, always slowly, taking in the site of this gorgeous young girl tied and vulnerable in front of them. More often than not the first one past never touched, they didn’t know our rules and the fear of upsetting a fellow guest made sure their hands stayed by their sides, but eventually one would. They’d look at me first as they passed, seeking permission from my eyes. It was always given, a slow bat of the eyelids that said ok, if you want to.
And so, they did. Often it was a stroke down the back, lingering over her buttocks, gauging her reaction before going any further. I knew what it would be. She always pushed back on this first touch, the anticipation from being stuck there for 10 minutes or so with no contact meant her entire body needed to feel someone. She’d arch her back, pulling her head back towards the ceiling, pushing out her butt to ensure the touch lingered for as long as possible. They’d be reassured by this and instantly turn their hand for the upward motion, moving in closer behind her, often kissing her neck for the first time as she arched back to meet them. Others would close in, like starlings after specks of food, they grew braver by seeing someone else’s success. Hands started to tour her body, seeking out her nipples, delving gently between her legs and thighs.
The more adventurous guys would suddenly drop to the floor, turn themselves and inch backwards, trying hard to get their heads between her legs, to tongue her juices and to delve as deep as they could reach. Her legs strapped to the boards didn’t allow for much access, but she always managed to sink a few inches however tight my strapping was, to give them an easier passage. Their tongues working furiously between her legs, trying desperately to be the one who brought her to that shattering climax, or being the one who explored elsewhere, teasingly tonguing across her arsehole, seeking a positive movement from her before exploring her more.
The ladies were always the best. One would see the activity and approach. The guys, all well trained in the swing scene would make way for her as she approached. Even the guys on the floor, heads buried between her thighs would sense someone new was getting nearer and slide out of the way to allow her access. Her hands would always be certain and positive, not like the wary approach of the guys. She’d go directly for the breast, sliding her hand under them and then upwards, feeling their weight and the tension of the skin. The palm would slide teasingly over the nipple, and at the same time she’d pull herself in, close enough to glide her lips over the shoulders and neck of my baby. Hands would snake around her body, covering the areas guys always seem to miss, her waist, her sides, her thighs running down to her knees. The ladies liked to move on quickly, they’d had their feel, their tease of the victim, but it wasn’t them in that cupboard and they sought to be the centre of attention elsewhere. They carried on upstairs, to find their own new playmates and to live out their own fantasies.
The guys always stayed, the race was now on. How far could they go with her, who’s touch would make her orgasm, could she take a little pain, could she take a lot? The men sought answers, and the only way of finding out in this situation was to try and to gauge the reaction. I saw her body start to buck as someone’s gentle stimulation on her clitoris brought the first tremors of a climax. I’d see it ebb away as someone tried rather abruptly to enter a finger into her arse, probably with a sharp nail, or without thinking to apply some saliva first. This was the fun for us. We knew each other so well, what worked and what didn’t it had become slightly predictable. We both knew how to achieve ultimate satisfaction without upsetting the other, but this was always so different. We never knew, nor could we know, what each of these strangers was going to try with her. One eventually would ease himself between her and the wall, standing up in front of her, his erection probing between her legs. He’d have to sink slightly, bending his knees to get the right height before penetrating and you could see the effort and pain as his legs, trying to work either inside or outside hers, started to cramp instantly from the unusual position. It would never last long unless they were young and extremely fit. The older guys, shorter guys, fatter guys never stood a chance and rarely tried this move, happy to just get a handful of flesh at some point, but the fit ones would always try. I’d watch her face as someone entered her, seeing her face fill with the possibility of unprotected sex with a stranger. She always knew I was watching and making sure it wasn’t, but with her hands above her, her legs tied open and her eyes blind to the world it was all down to the trust between us and I could see the uncertainty. Once in, she had no choice but relax and trust me, but those first few seconds were always electric. They’d thrust upwards, trying to get some rhythm going, but without her legs coming up to their sides it was always difficult for them and rarely did they last more than a few minutes. The pain and lactic acid building up in their thighs always took over from the impending climax and they’d have to pull out and stand tall again to regain the strength in their legs.
The clever ones knew what to aim for. Standing behind her there was no wall to worry about, and the natural arc of her body pushed her buttocks back ready to receive anything offered from behind. One would eventually rise from tonguing her arse, having lubricated it well and felt her respond to the touch. Maybe he’d explored her gently with a finger or two as he knelt between her legs, feeling her sphincter relax to his touch, maybe even hearing her soft groan as he eased into her. He’d stand, erect now from the thrill of the exploration, and gently ease his cock towards her arsehole, running it around the inside of her cheeks picking up all the moisture left by himself and others. Guiding his cock with one hand, his other would circle her waist and ease down between her legs, trying to ensure his manhood pierced the back entrance and didn’t slide forward into her moist pussy. Again, I saw her rise as the violation drew near, and then sink as much as possible as escape proved impossible. Her face would tighten, the muscles in her gorgeous neck would visibly tighten, and her hands would glisten white for a minute as she clenched her fists into a tight ball. And then, she’d relax to the inevitable. He was inside her and there was nothing she could do. His hand now moving back up to her clitoris, wet with her pussy juices, slid easily across her, manipulating that small spot of pleasure until her climaxes started. She’d start to buck on him now, driving up and down with the little amount of movement she was allowed. Her breathing would be sharp and intense, displaced every so often with a deep guttural moan. Climax after climax would drive through her body, each time starting a tremble from deep within that transferred through every muscle of her body. Dampness turned into a deluge of glistening female juice down the inside of her thighs. Guys heads seemed to be everywhere, lapping away at every bit of naked flesh, twisting round to suck on her breasts, bending down to lick between her thighs, hands stretching in over others shoulders just to feel her body as it bucked and contorted in front of them. The lucky guy behind leant backwards, thrusting every last inch deep inside her, ensuring she felt his full length and width before exploding deep inside her.
Slowly she’d had her fill. I sensed it well before the signal ever came, but I always allowed her to give it. She did, and I moved to her side, reaching up to place my hand in hers, to let her know I was there, and had been throughout. She’d squeeze mine, happy that I’d responded at the right time and been there for her. I’d indicate to the guys that it was over, and they would just melt away. By the time her hands and ankles had been released, not a soul was to be seen on the stairs, and I’d remove the blindfold. She’s blink for a minute and then turn to me. Seeking a reassuring lingering kiss, but also looking beyond me to see if she could catch sight of the men who had just taken her, but they were all well gone by now.
After a shower, we’d drift back to the bar, walking past the guy loitering outside a play room, saying thanks to the guy who let us down the stairs, smiling at the guy who gave up his seat at the bar as we approached, and then chatting to the barmaid who had a certain wicked glint in her eye. I knew, but she didn’t and doesn’t to this day!
Now we have our own cupboard, and guys are slowly working out how to find us. Do you want to join in?