Jen was running late, but her friend, Mara, was on time. I’d never met her before, only seen a picture. Jen and Mara had only just met a few days before, at a workshop. As I wrote here, Jen had met another friend of mine, whom I’ve not named in this blog (mainly because she’s been dithering (winking smiley face) over what she wants me to call her), but about whom I’ve written a few times, at the same workshop.
Jen and several of the seven women at the workshop had attempted to go to Checkmate together the previous weekend, but been turned away (!) because they didn’t have any men with them. (What the fuck kind of swingers club turns away a group of women? This baffles me.) Anyway, she and Mara had been looking forward to going to a sex club together, and Jen and I had been to Le Trapeze before, so we figured we’d do it again, only this time, with Mara.
Mara beat me to the bar around the corner from Le Trapeze. “I’m the blonde sitting at the edge of the bar,” she texted me.
“I’m the bald guy in jeans and a Spiderman t-shirt.”
Later, she said, “When you texted me that you were wearing a Spiderman shirt, I knew we were going to get along.”
I walked in to find her, a gorgeous blonde in a sexy black skirt and a top of some sort, I’m sure, but I honestly don’t remember. It was her face and her ass that I immediately noticed. I led her from the bar to the more comfortable booth, around the corner, and complimented her. “You’re hot,” I said. She blushed.
We made small talk. Talked about our lives (she lives in Israel, was visiting as a tourist). About her family. And then Jen walked in. She was wearing a white lacey skirt and also, I’m sure, a top. As usual, she looked stunning, pale, radiant. Her hair had changed – was a bit blonder than before. She experienced it as a huge change; in the light in the bar, it looked like a minor change. In any event, it was her face and ass I noticed too. I stood up to kiss her, pulling her head against mine by the back of it, and sat back down, facing Jen, my knees incidentally brushing against Mara’s knees.
Mara drank a vodka tonic; Jen, a foofy, but strong, drink off the drink menu. I had a seltzer (having had more than my share of Scotch earlier in the evening). We prepared Mara for what she’d find at Le Trapeze, and we were on our way. As we exited the bar, Jen suggested the three of us crowd into the revolving door together. That was nice, as I found a hand on each of these two gorgeous women’s gorgeous asses for the first time in the evening.
Ten minutes later, we were walking through the doors of Le Trapeze. We took Mara on a short tour of the front of the place, greeted the now-familiar couple I’ve described before as an Asian guy and his cute/hot girlfriend or wife with perfect breasts and glasses, and let ourselves into one of the private rooms off to the side of the hallway leading to the locker room. (Turns out, he’s not Asian; he’s Venezuelan. What can I say? Le Trapeze is dark.) “Don’t go anywhere!” I said to them.
We closed, but didn’t lock, the door to our little room. The three of us kissed. I had two handfuls of ass, of delicious, yummy ass, as we kissed, and my cock was straining against my jeans. “Lie down!” Jen said to me.
I lay down on the bed, and watched as the two women continued making out. I stroked my cock, watching, stroking, through my jeans. Jen kneeled down and removed my jeans. She didn’t wait long, didn’t tease me too much, before she put her mouth on my cock, first licking, then more enthusiastically sucking. Mara came around and began kissing me as Jen was sucking. She was a great kisser, enthusiastic, almost violent – she would suck my tongue hard, send hers probing deep into my mouth. It was as if she was seeking my limits.
After a few minutes, they switched, and Jen and I made out while Mara sucked my cock. Her mouth was phenomenally warm, moist, and attentive.
The door opened. In walked the couple (I need names for them – let’s say Jack and Diane). Jack stood in the corner, watching, chewing gum, stroking his cock, wearing his omnipresent baseball cap. Diane lowered herself to the floor. Jen left my mouth and began going down on Diane; Mara left my cock and started sucking Jack’s bigger, meatier cock. In no time, he was fucking her doggystyle, hard. Mara was vocal, loud. She was having a good time. I kissed Diane a bit as Jen went down on her, and then we switched around. Diane climbed on my cock as I lay on my back and began riding me. Jen and I resumed making out. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Jack fucking Mara, and tried to read the elaborate, script, tattoo on his belly. It was a woman’s name, but not “Diane.” Hmm.
Some more minutes went by, and Jack stopped fucking Mara, Diane climbed off of me. They bid their farewell. “I have to work early in the morning,” Jack said. Jen said something to Diane about my blog; Diane seemed curious. I told her that if she read it, she’d find herself mentioned. I told her the address. I felt confident she’d forget it.
They stepped out of our little room. I watched as Mara and Jen resumed kissing a bit, and then as Mara went down on Jen. I kissed Jen. I fucked her face. And then, when Mara finished, I put on a condom, and Jen sat on my cock. “Sit on my face?” I asked Mara, and she did.
“Holy shit,” I thought to myself. “This taste is familiar. What the fuck?” And as I thought back, as I licked Mara’s clit, as Jen rode my cock, as the two of them kissed above me, I realized: when I was 15, I spent a summer in Israel. And this was the taste of Sabra.
But we had promises to keep – Mara really wanted to see a sex club, and we hadn’t even made it to the locker room yet. Mara jumped off me. I pulled out of Jen, we grabbed our clothes, and headed back, toward Albert, the locker room attendant.