The instructions are precise. I am to arrive “no later than six-thirty.” I’d parked my car, as instructed, several blocks away from the large, modern house on a large piece of property on the North Side and wait at the door. A man in a tuxedo opens it, and I hand him my driver’s license, as instructed. He checks it against a list and looks back between me and the license.
“Welcome. You’re the first to arrive. The others should be here shortly.” After returning my license to me, he leads me to the living room, and I sit on the couch. Over the next five or six minutes, I hear three others come through the door. By six-thirty we are all there. Another man sits on the couch and two women are on armchairs.
Each of us is attractive, mid-twenties. Attractive but not pretentiously so. The other man and I are about five-ten. We are both in good shape, but not built. We both wear suits, as instructed. One of the women is a blonde and the other a brunette. Five-five or so. Also good, athletic figures with smallish boobs. They wear dresses.
I further assume we are here for the same reason: To make $2,500 for two hours of anonymous-sex work. I’d been approached at a bar by a woman and asked if I was interested in being paid to participate passively in group sex. I said I might, and she handed me a card with a website. When I got home, I went to the site and after registering and answering a questionnaire, I received my invitation and $1,000 was deposited in my bank account.
As we assess each other, the man enters with a woman in an evening gown. She welcomes us. She says she’d offer us something to drink but they’ve found alcohol can dull the senses, “and we can’t have that.”
“You’ve all agreed to participate. You’ve each said you are bisexual and have had experience having sex with both sexes. You’ve submitted clean bills-of-health.” Very matter of fact.
“All of your holes will be available to anyone who wants to use them during the two hours. There will be no pain infliction. Condoms will be used for all vaginal and anal insertions. You will each wear a latex mask to cover your eyes and earplugs for your ears. The people who do what they do to you must remain anonymous. You may have two or more people use your body simultaneously.”
She pauses. “Any questions?”
Hearing none, she hands us waiver forms, and we are told to check off those acts we consent to having performed on us or that we will perform on others. I’ve already OKed each item online. But she wants our signatures.
When she has them, we follow her to the basement.
“You will return upstairs when they are ready for you.”
The basement is large with two beds.
We disrobe. Now naked, my impression of the others is confirmed. There are two bathrooms, and we take turns showering.
When we re-assemble, our hostess says, “We’ve had problem with premature ejaculation. So the men are going to fuck the women to come and get it out of their system, at least temporarily. Then they’ll get Viagra.” She instructs the women to get on the beds, legs spread, and my erection aches. She tells the other guy to fuck the blonde and I kneel between the brunette’s legs. After I have a condom on, I rub some lube on it and rub a finger up and down her folds. She is damp. I put myself in her, and we begin to have clinical intercourse. She looks bored until her hips begin to move of their own accord. As do mine, and we’re fucking. Her eyes soften, and her tongue moistens her upper lip. She wants me to kiss her, and I slowly lower my mouth to hers.
I hear a shout from the other bed, and the other guy gets up, finished, and heads to the bathroom. My attention remains with the brunette and her eyes. I don’t know her name. I fall into those bluish eyes. We’ve ceased fucking. We are bonding, mating, making love.
I hope the hostess doesn’t notice that we’ve tacitly agreed to slow down to delay coming. Edging each other, neither of us in control of our bodies. Soon we will cede all control to strangers. But for now, we cede it to each other.