by Peter Baltensperger
(06/30/10)

It was one of those dreary November evenings, the air damp, halfway between fog and rain, the trees dripping with moisture, the streets wet, shivering. Connor Duff sat in his living room, looking out the window into the dismal evening, wondering what to do with himself. Part of him just wanted to curl up in his warm bed and watch TV, but it was Friday and he was restless from the week's work and felt he should be doing something. Usually he went for some drinks and something to eat with a group of his colleagues, but somehow everybody seemed to be busy and he was left to his own devices.

In the end, he decided to get himself out of his comfortable chair, put on his warm coat, grab his umbrella, and brave the elements to walk up the street to the neighborhood bar. The familiar atmosphere enveloped him as soon as he stepped in the door, and made him feel better immediately with its sights and smells and the low hum of conversations. The bar was filled with people from around the area, although he didn't know any of them beyond recognizing them from other evenings and nodding to some of them here and there.

He hung his coat on the rack, ambled up to the bar, and ordered a bourbon for himself. He took the first sip to warm his damp insides, then swiveled around on his chair to survey the scene. None of the faces caught his attention, so he just sat there for a while and sipped his drink until his eyes fell on a young woman sitting alone at one of the tables, nursing a drink. She was quite pretty, not a classical beauty by any means, but rather attractive in her own way, a bit chubby, perhaps, but he liked that better than some of the stick women he had encountered in the past.

He climbed off the bar stool, picked up his drink, and walked over to her table.

"Do you mind if I join you?" he asked hesitantly, not quite sure of himself.

"Not at all," the woman smiled up at him, motioning to the chair beside her.

"I'm Connor," he introduced himself, holding out his hand. "Connor Duff."

"Hello, Connor Connor Duff," the woman smiled, putting her hand in his.

He didn't quite know what to do with that, but she laughed gleefully. "Just kidding," she said, good-naturedly. "Come on, sit down. I don't bite. I'm Brooke."

Connor sat down. "Can I buy you another drink?" he asked.

"Not right now," Brooke declined. "I'm actually on my way to a party and they'll have enough drinks there. I just couldn't find anybody to come with me, and I don't like going to those things by myself, so I thought I'd come in here and see what happens. You interested?"

"What kind of party?" Connor wanted to know.

"Oh, you know, a house party at some friends of mine," Brooke answered lightly. "Actually a sex party, you know."

"No," Connor replied. "Actually I don't know. What's a sex party exactly?"

"It's just a house party, as I said," Brooke explained with the same unconcerned lightness in her voice. "Except everybody's naked and playing sex games of various kinds and having sex."

"I've never been to anything like that," Connor replied, trepidation in his voice. "I wouldn't have the slightest idea what to do."

Mostly, he had never been naked in a crowd before, and he was terrified of what that would be like. Perhaps he had better decline before he became involved any further.

"You'll get used to it quickly," Brooke assured him. "Besides, I'll be there to show you what to do. Just come with me, OK?"

Connor couldn't resist her big eyes. She really was very pretty and had a very nice figure, and why shouldn't he try something different for a change?

"Alright," he finally agreed. "I'll come with you. But you have to promise to tell me everything and show me what to do."

"Promise," Brooke said. She downed her drink and stood up. "Ready?" she said.

"Ready," Connor said.

He opened his umbrella and put his arm protectively around her as they stepped out into the drizzle and hurried up the street to his house. She was leaning against him and he could feel her warmth through their coats.

When they reached his house, he ushered her into his car, and she gave him detailed directions all the way to the house where the party was taking place. The hostess greeted them at the door in a long, flowing gown and ushered them inside. The two women hugged, and Brooke introduced Connor, then took him by the hand and led him down the hall towards the stairs.

"We'll get undressed upstairs," she said.

She found an empty bedroom, led him inside, and closed the door. She immediately began to take off her clothes, so he figured he had better do the same thing and divested himself of his own garments. Brooke looked very beautiful and tempting as she stood naked in front of him. He wanted to grab her and hold her and fondle her right there and then, but she spoke before he could translate his craving into actions.

"Shall we go down and see what's going on?" Brooke asked, seemingly unaware of his desire, or perhaps just pretending not to be aware of it, for the sake of propriety or whatever she felt should be the next step.

"I'd rather stay up here with you," Connor ventured. He had no intention of letting this opportunity go to waste.

Brooke took one look at him and flung her arms around him. "I was hoping you'd say that," she sighed, much to his delight.

Connor took her breasts into his hands and squeezed them lightly. They felt soft and warm against his skin, her nipples hardening against his palm. She readily leaned into him, burying her head in his shoulder and pressing her body against his, seeking out his stiff penis with her hand and squeezing it as he was squeezing her breasts. She moaned deep down in her throat, then lifted her face up to him, her eyes incredibly beautiful pools of desire and excitement.

They found each other's lips without letting go, and lost themselves in a passionate kiss, nibbling and sucking each other, titillating each other with their tongues, exploring and tasting, inhaling their fragrances, letting their bodies melt together until they seemed to be one thing, one body, one being in a fervent embrace.

They tumbled on the bed with their hands on each other and fondled and caressed each other's bodies, one rolling over the other rolling over the other as if they couldn't ever get enough. Connor delighted in her pliable breasts, ran a hand down her back to her buttocks and pulled her as close to him as he could. Brooke took his penis into both of her hands and rolled it between her palms, then started stroking it with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.

Then she rolled on her back and pulled him on top of her and he quickly slid into her proffered opening and lost himself in her dripping cave. He could feel her muscles squeezing his penis inside of her, sucking him deeper and deeper into herself, her breasts heaving against his chest, her legs wrapped around his waist.

They were in the middle of their copulation when the door behind them opened. Connor froze. He heard a couple giggle and close the door again. He was rather perturbed by the unexpected interruption and the thought of someone seeing him like this, but once the door closed again, he found his bearing again and continued his rhythmic thrusting. Before long, they brought each other to screaming and groaning and trembling orgasms, clinging to each other as the orgasmic breakers rushed over them and through them, then fell apart on the bed, gasping for breath.

"Wow!" Brooke finally said. "That was absolutely wonderful."

Connor turned on his side, put an arm around her and put his hand on her breast. "You're an excellent lover," he said.

"So are you," Brooke said lazily, running her fingers through his hair.

They could have stayed there for hours, as far as Connor was concerned, but Brooke reminded him after a while that they had come to the party for other reasons as well.

"We really should be going downstairs," she said lazily, stretching lustily on the bed, her body a landscape of temptation.

This time, Connor resisted his own immediate urges and agreed with her. "We really should," he said, and they both climbed off the bed and went down into the living room.

The living room was spacious and tastefully furnished, filled with naked people engaged in various activities. Some were standing around chatting with each other, drinks in hand. In one corner, a foursome was huddled together, the men fondling the breasts, the women playing with the penises, all of them sighing and moaning and groaning from their mutual stimulation. In another corner, a man was lying on his back on the carpeted floor, a woman straddling him, bent over him and bobbing up and down, her breasts in his hands. Another couple was occupying a couch, gyrating on top of each other.

Brooke went to the bar next to the door and poured them each a drink. They stayed near the bar, sipping their drinks, watching all the activities going on around them. Every so often, a couple left the room and hurried upstairs, laughing as they chased each other up the stairs.

A woman with a drink in her hand sidled up to Connor and started rubbing her body against his. "My, my," she cooed, glancing mischievously at Brooke. "Look what you've brought with you!"

"Don't you dare!" Brooke hissed. "He's mine."

"Just saying hello," the woman purred, pressing her breasts against his chest and reaching for his penis with her free hand.

"That's enough of saying hello," Brooke said sternly. "This is Connor," she introduced him, then turned to him. "This is Margo," she said. "She always comes alone and tries to charm the men away from their women."

"And I always succeed, don't I?" Margo retorted, a tone of unmistakable pride and triumph in her voice.

"Not with my man, you won't," Brooke terminated the encounter. "Now leave him alone and be a good girl," she added sternly, leaving no doubt about the seriousness of her request.

Margo moved a few inches away from Connor, then turned to walk back into the room. "Maybe another time," she winked seductively at him over her shoulder. "Maybe you should come by yourself sometime."

"Oh, come on," Brooke jeered. "Give it up already! You know very well you can't win this one."

Margo didn't look back again as she ambled toward a group in the middle of the room, presumably to try her luck again.

"Is she really always like that?" Connor wanted to know.

"Always," Brooke replied emphatically. "But you'll get used to her after a while. Just don't encourage her."

"I have no intention," Connor assured her.

They finished their drinks and put the empty glasses on the counter.

"Come on," Brooke took him by the hand. "I'll show you the downstairs."

"Why? What's downstairs?" Connor wanted to know.

"You'll see," Brooke replied, a conspiratorial look in her eyes.

She took him down another flight of stairs into the basement part of the house and led him into a large room filled with more people. Connor couldn't believe his eyes. Most of the people who had gathered in the room were clad in leather garbs of various kinds, some of them tied to one of the walls, other strutting about with sundry implements like whips and paddles and leather straps, still other rolling about on the floor in various stages of copulation.

He looked questioningly at Brooke.

"The dungeon," she explained, "although that sounds much worse than it really is. This is the leather culture and that's their kind of orgy. Come on, let me show you. You might enjoy it."

"Are you sure?" Connor asked doubtfully. "Doesn't all this hurt a lot?"

"Not necessarily," Brooke placated him. "It all depends on what you want and how far you want to take the game. I promise I won't hurt you at all."

"Alright, then," Connor complied. "What do you want me to do?"

"Just stand against the wall here with your back to the wall," Brooke directed him, then went to a cupboard and took out some leather straps.

Connor did as he was told. The opposite wall was covered with mirror tiles and he could see himself clearly, as well as the other men and women who were already tied to the wall.

Brooke told him to spread his legs until his feet touched the wooden blocks with the metal rings and lift his arms up to the large rings in the wall. Then she proceeded to tie his ankles and his wrists to the rings and told him to hold still and wait. She went back to the cupboard and returned with what looked like a soft paddle. Without saying a word, she began to move the paddle over his upper body and his arms, slapping him gently as she moved up and down his body.

"How do you feel?" she asked between strokes.

"Quite good, actually," Connor admitted. "It's a really good feeling, having you do this to me."

"Good," Brooke said as she moved down over his belly with her paddle, down to his thighs, up his inner thighs until she reached his penis and kept paddling it lightly until it strutted from his body, big and hard and proud. She continued for a while, much to his delight, then knelt down in front of him, took his penis in one hand and his balls into the other, pulled back his foreskin, and took the sensitive head between her lips. Connor groaned and squirmed and she kept fondling him and sucking him, taking him deeper and deeper into her mouth until he gushed into her and his body went limp in its restraints.

Brooke kept sucking him for a while longer, then stood up and untied his ankles and wrists. "My turn," she said.

Connor assumed that she wanted to be tied to the wall and be treated the way she treated him, but she stretched out on the floor instead and spread her legs.

He didn't have to be told twice. Much as he would have liked to try out the paddle on her, he definitely liked this approach better than anything else. He stretched out between her legs and buried his face in her pussy, licking her and sucking her, delighting in her dripping juices, her cornucopia of delicious flavors and tastes, reveling in the delightful textures of her lips and her opening and her clit.

Brooke was writhing and moaning, pressing her pelvis against his face, putting her hands on his head and pushing it harder and harder between her legs. Before long, Connor could feel the contraction of her pussy, the trembling of her body, the excitement of her impending orgasm. He focused on her clit, licked it forcefully with his tongue, sucked at it with his lips until her body shuddered uncontrollably and she cried out with the pleasure and the excitation of her release.

He kept licking her for a while longer until her breathing slowed and her body relaxed and he knew that the waves of excitement were abating again. He moved up beside her and looked into her eyes, glazed now from the enjoyment, smiling at him from deep inside of her. He put his arm around her as he had done before and she turned to him and wrapped her own arms around him.

All around them, people were beginning to leave, and they realized that it was getting late and time to go home. They let go of each other, reluctantly yet thoroughly satisfied, and happy with each other and themselves.

Then they went upstairs, put their clothes back on, took leave of their hostess, and drove back to her apartment. Connor let her out of his car and walked her to the entrance of her apartment building, intending to go back to his own place despite the miserable weather and the difficult night driving it entailed.

"Why don't you stay here?" Brooke suggested, as if she had been reading his thoughts. "Or do you have to be home for something?"

"Nothing at all," Connor said. "I'd love to stay with you."

"Good," Brooke smiled her pleasant smile, a sparkle of anticipation in her eyes.

They were both quite tired from the long evening and their physical exertions so they simply undressed, climbed under the covers, and wrapped their arms around each other to go to sleep.

"There's always tomorrow," Brooke whispered sleepily. "Hope you'll have a good sleep after all this."

"You, too," Connor muttered. "And thanks for the wonderful evening. I'm so glad I went to the bar."

"I'm so glad you came to my table," Brooke replied, smiling happily.

With that, they fell into a deep sleep. Outside, the night was as dreary as the evening had been, the air still hovering between fog and rain, shivering from the dampness and the nocturnal cold. Connor and Brooke slept comfortably in their embrace under the warm bedding, sheltered from the night as if curled up inside a protective cocoon.

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