Paris would have been my first choice, With perhaps Rome or Amsterdam second. But Hamburg? It was hardly tourist-land. But Wendy’s name had been on the entry form and she had chosen Hamburg.
“We’ve been to all the others.” She said.
It had been one of those “You have been chosen….. ” things, which come through the letterbox most days. I had always thought that nobody actually won anything. Wendy had been in one of her ‘enter everything’ moods and had won second prize.
A long weekend for two in either Amsterdam, Brussels, Hamburg, Paris or Rome. She had chosen Hamburg.
“But the only thing Hamburg is famous for is the red light district.” I had protested.
“Yes.” She replied. “I have always been curious and we would never go there at our own expense, so here’s our chance.”
She was right of course and there is a lot more to Hamburg than I had thought.
But this is not a travelogue.
We had arrived at the Hotel late afternoon, unpacked and were ready for the fleshpots. There is a good underground railway system and we took the ‘tube’ to Sankt Pauli, close to the docks and in the famous ‘Reeperbahn’. It means “Rope maker Street”, echoing Hamburg’s maritime history. Reeperbahn is about a kilometre long and for most of it’s length, both sides and the small side turnings are devoted to commercial sex. Sex shops, strip clubs and bars, cinemas, peep shows, live sex shows, shop window brothels. You name it. It’s there.
We strolled down one side and back up the other, sampling as we went. We had a drink in one bar offering a live sex show. A bored looking couple were performing on a raised platform in the centre, fucking unenthusiastically to the beat of the loud music. Leaving there, we entered the sex shop next door. Sex toys, magazines and DVDs catering for every taste (and dis-taste) were available. At the back there were cubicles where you could watch the films in private, boxes of tissues were provided to clean up after your wank.
In another sex shop, the cubicles housed girls who, for a few Euros, would masturbate while you watched. For a few more she would provide hand – service for you.
In ‘Grosse Freiheit’, (Great Freedom) one of the side streets, were located the night clubs. Not yet open, but with photo’s and multi-lingual descriptions in glass cases outside, advertising the, quite expensive, shows. We decide to visit one the next evening.
We tried to enter what appeared to be a sort of sex shopping mall, but were stopped and advised that it was ‘men only’. Wendy insisted that I went in to have a look, it was still light and she felt quite safe alone. Inside, once my eyes had accustomed to the gloom, were rows of girls, wearing anything from nothing but high heels stockings and suspenders, to full bondage gear. As I came close to each one, after checking what language I spoke, told me in explicit terms what was for sale.
“You can fuck me in the cunt, in the mouth, in the arse or I can wank you with my tits”, sort of thing. The prices were remarkably low.
I managed to emerge with still full, but by now, aching balls and described the experience to Wendy. The street girls were now taking their pitches, they are not allowed on the streets until evening. We had one more promenade to see them, then decided we would go back to the hotel for a meal. I needed to work off some of my hornyness and suspected that Wendy too, was ready for it.
The hotel meal was fine, if somewhat bland. Back in our room, we discovered that the television had several porn channels as well as the more conventional ones. We undressed and got into bed. A film was just about to start. It was in German of course, but close ups of giant pricks being sucked, sliding into oily cunts and spraying generously onto naked female flesh needs little translation. The film was well made, properly lit and in sharp focus.
We did not get to the end, my own prick was acting as a tent pole under the bed sheet and before long, Wendy had it in her mouth. As horny as I was, I knew that I could not hold back for long and I wanted to come in her cunt, not her mouth. I pulled her off, spread her on the bed and gave her some of the same treatment. She was running with juice and wide open for my oral caress. I lapped at her juices, then starting right down at her perineum, slowly drew my tongue along the slit until I reached her stiff clit, then took it between my lips and sucked. She came like a train, she had been as ready for it as I was now.
I squirmed up between her thighs and urgently pushed my prong at her vulva. She took charge and fed it into herself, I was ball-deep in a single thrust. I tried to make it last but her hole seemed to be milking me. With a grunt of release I sent my seed hard against her cervix. She was holding me tight against her, convulsing in passion. I think that she was still on the orgasmic high that my mouth had given her.
“I needed that.” She declared, after I had rolled off, panting heavily.
As I fought to get my breath back, Wendy shushed me.
“Listen, she said, “what’s that?”
I listened. From next door came the unmistakeable sounds of sexual congress, a rhythmic grunt as someone was being steadily rammed.
“Perhaps they are watching a film?” I suggested.
“No, no, lie still, you can feel it as well as hear it.”
She was right, you could feel the wall moving. Someone was enjoying what we had just enjoyed. Wendy got out of bed and disappeared into the bathroom, re-appearing with two toothbrush glasses. She handed one to me and pressed the other between the wall and her ear.
“Wendy, really!” I scolded.
She shushed me again. “There are more than two of them,” she whispered, “two men and a girl I think.”
I positioned my glass close to hers, sure enough, there seemed to be a man’s voice encouraging the rutting couple. As we listened, the girl came noisily, her lover accelerated his thrusts until he gave a great groan as he, presumably, ejaculated. It was quiet for a moment or two, then voices again, then the humping started again. Wendy looked at me wide-eyed.
“She’s getting seconds,” Wendy marvelled, “This group sex is not just in the shows!”
She took the glass from my hand, rolled me onto my back and straddled my hips. She held my rekindled tool upright and after kissing the tip with her moist cunt lips, eased her well lubricated love tube down onto it. She leaned forward, arching her back to bring her clit against the top side of my rod and began to slowly ride it. Her heavy breasts swung gently in time to her movements. She gradually synchronised her strokes to the rhythmic pounding from next door. I moved my head down to grasp at her penduluming tits, occasionally capturing a stiff nipple and sucking on it until it escaped my lips. It was the only movement I needed to make. She was fucking me.
She was breathing heavily, mouth slack, eyes glazed, face and breast flushed. Clearly on the verge of orgasm. She bit her lip, not wanting to climax until our fellow-fuckers did. She did not have to wait long. Cries from next door seemed to crash through he wall above our heads. Wendy let go, screaming loudly, jerking wildly.
“Come in me.” She yelled.
I seized her hips and began to ram upwards into her writhing body, racing to cream her while she was still coming. The spunk seemed to scald me as it shot. I too cried out as all the tension released, pouring out through my prick into Wendy’s clasping quim.
I did not remember any more until I woke up next morning. I could hear Wendy in the shower. I stretched luxuriously, enjoying that lazy, don’t need to get up, feeling. Guiltily, I pressed a glass to the wall above our bed. Nothing. Not even snoring. There was a soft knock on the door and Wendy emerged wrapped in a white bath robe to accept the breakfast tray.
As she placed the tray on the bedside table, I made a lunge for her. She pulled away.
“Not a chance,” she said, “I’m clean, you’re smelly. Eat your breakfast and have a shower, then we’ll go out. It’s a lovely day.”
I did as ordered, when I came out of the shower, Wendy was dressed and looking glumly out of the window. It was raining hard. It seems that the Hanseatic weather is as fickle as our own.
I tried to cheer her up. “Let’s stay in this morning and try all the Hotel’s facilities, Gym, Sauna, Jacuzzi, Swimming Pool.”
She brightened at the idea, fancying the Sauna and we made our way down. We took swimsuits and towels from the room. The attendant solemnly handed us bath robes and told us that we should use the towels, which she also provided. We separated into our individual changing rooms, arranging to meet in the Sauna. I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for the Sauna, hoping that it was empty so that Wendy and I could enjoy some Scandinavian style frolics.
I was disappointed to find the room occupied. Two men about my age were sitting on the lower ‘shelves’ and a lovely blonde woman was stretched out on her back on the upper level. All three were stark naked.
“Oh! I’m sorry,” I stammered, “I should have knocked.”
My eyes were glued to the magnificent body of the woman, even lying on her back, her breasts were firm enough to form two delicious mounds , each tipped with a large, dark pink teat. She was shining with fine sweat. She had piercing pale blue eyes which she turned on me.
It was more a statement than a question. Before I could answer, the door opened and Wendy swept in. Unlike me, she sized up the situation immediately. She peeled off the white towelling robe she had been wearing, revealing her own lovely curves, gave me a little kiss (Establishing ownership.) and said,
“Good morning. I’m Wendy and this is David. We are from England.”
The two men rose to shake hands, they were Manfred and Peter. The girl held out her hand.
She said. I almost kissed her hand, but settled for a shake. I’m glad I did, I enjoyed the way her tits wobbled as we shook hands. I suddenly felt silly, being the only one with any covering. I removed the towel and sat down in one movement, in an attempt to conceal my thickening manhood. The heat was oppressive at first and my errant probe soon went back down. Wendy took the other top bench.
In almost perfect, if accented, English, (or rather, American,) Eva led the conversation. They were from Dortmund. They worked for the same company. I was later to learn that Eva owned the company. The ‘boys’ as Eva referred to them, were salesmen and had won a very lucrative order for the company. Eva had taken them to Hamburg for the weekend as a reward. I was almost certain that they were our bonk-buddies from last night and that Eva was part of the reward.
I could not tolerate the heat and said that I must leave.
“Yes,” said Eva, “we too must leave, we have had enough heat. Now we will swim.”
She led the way, followed by Wendy. I was the last out, just in time to see Eva emerge from the deep, cold plunge pool. Her skin was covered with goose pimples and her nipples were hard, pink bullets. Wendy went next, gasping at the sudden change of temperature. Manfred and Peter ‘kindly’ let me go next. Had I not been in company, I would not even have considered it. The water was icy, chin deep and agitated by a powerful water-jet. My balls tried to take refuge inside my body and my cock tried to follow them. I leapt out, numb with cold. I watched the other two dunk themselves and was pleased to see them similarly affected.
We had to go to past the dour attendant to get to the pool and were informed that we should wear swimsuits there. Apparently nude was de rigueur for the Sauna, but not for swimming or the Jacuzzi. The swimming pool felt positively hot compared to the plunge pool. I swam a few lengths then headed for the Jacuzzi. Soon, all five of us were sitting in the circular tub. For some reason, this was time limited and when we were asked to vacate, we agreed to meet in the lounge for coffee.
The men were first to the lounge by a good fifteen minutes, during which we chatted. They too, spoke excellent English. When the ladies joined us, Wendy was still looking flushed, perhaps too long in the Sauna? By the time we had finished our coffee, the sun was shining again. Our new friends suggested that we take a coach tour of the town, leaving plenty of time for shopping later.
Eva asked how we planned to spend the evening. Wendy began to look slightly agitated. I said that we might visit one of the live sex shows.
“You must come with us,” said Eva, ” as our guests. We can show you the best, not known to tourists and we can have dinner at the same place.”
Wendy was clearly concerned about something.
“Have your tourist day.” Said Eva. “Meet us in the bar at 7:30. If you decide not to, that is not a problem.”
As we stood to leave, Eva said to Wendy;
“Speak to David about our conversation.”
Back in our room I quizzed Wendy. “What was that about?” Wendy told me about the discussion in the ladies room. it went something like this:
Wendy – “I enjoyed that.”
Eva – “Me also. I also enjoyed last night”
“What do you mean?”
“We could hear you fucking your David last night, we have the room next to you.”
“Oh that. Yes, we could hear you too.”
“The walls are so thin. Bad for such an expensive Hotel. You had two fucks. I also had two, one with each of my boys. Did you ever fuck with two men?”
“Not at the same time, no.”
“It’s wonderful. We were all tired last night, but when we are not, they each fuck me many times. As one finishes, the other is ready. Sometimes I have the two together, one in my mouth and one in my cunt. It’s better still with three, you know, the other hole as well. It’s wonderful. You should try. Perhaps I will lend you my two boys, or perhaps swap. I would like to fuck with your David.”
“Don’t the boys have any say?”
They would not say no, you are very beautiful, they would enjoy fucking you. Will you agree?”
“I will talk it over with David.” Wendy concluded.
Well now she had. My mouth had been open all the way through her story. I licked my lips. I was amazed. We had never considered swapping. We had what you might describe as an open marriage. Not wide open, but flexible.
It had started about a year after we were married, I went away with my company on a ‘team building’ weekend. Instead, I had built a team of two with an attractive married woman from the buying office. It had been a drunken coupling in her room. I could remember little of it next morning, I just woke up in her bed.
I suffered from a serious bout of remorse and told Wendy about it. She was tight lipped for a few days, both above and below the waist, but seemed to write it off. Some weeks later, we were at a party and Wendy appeared after being missing for about fifteen minutes, looking very smug. She linked her arm through mine. “We’re even.” She smiled.
I knew what she meant and was mortified. We made our excuses and left. The taxi ride home was silent, but once in our own home, Wendy was keen to describe her experience. It had been a ‘knee-trembler in the garden. They had snogged and he had fished her tits out of her blouse and sucked them while she rubbed his hard-on through his trousers. She had removed her knickers, unzipped him and taken him standing up against the wall, one leg hooked over his hip. She would not tell me who.
Instead of being annoyed, I was highly aroused. I had a prize winning erection, which did not escape her attention. We stripped there and then and fucked violently on the kitchen table.
We agreed then, not to go looking for it, but not to turn it down if offered. It also had to be in situations like parties, not when we were apart. Wendy got the best of it of course. Men seemed to sense her availability. But I have had my share. It’s surprising how many women will drop their knickers in comfortable social surroundings. Part of the agreement is that we must describe the experience, in graphic detail, to each other. It has spiced up our own sex life enormously. If we had a ‘dry spell’, i.e. no extra – marital sex, for any length of time, one of us would say, “Do you remember when you…..” and then re-live, with embellishments, what was remembered of the others tale.
So. What did I think about Eva’s proposition. I fancied Eva like crazy, but the thought of Wendy being pegged by two virile studs at the same time? We agreed to do our sight-seeing and decide later. While on the coach trip, I leaned close to Wendy and whispered yes. She gave my prick a little congratulatory rub through my trousers. I was exceedingly hard.
Our new friends were waiting when we came down to the hotel foyer. They surprised us again by leading the way to a chauffeur driven stretched Mercedes which whisked us in luxury to Sankt Pauli.
The club was, from the outside, unobtrusive to say the least. There was a sally – port in the door, our hosts had to show proof of membership before the door was opened. We were signed in as guests, Eva used a card to pay the heavy entrance fee for the five of us. We were led to a quite small, circular room, by a stunningly beautiful girl wearing a long, white sheath dress which was so sheer she might just have well been nude. The thrust of her breasts and nipples were un-obscured. Even her navel was detectable through the thin cloth.
Tables were arranged in a horseshoe shape around a small dance floor. There were three tiers of tables each raised above the others so that each had a clear view of the dance floor. Chairs were on one side of the table only, for the same reason. The other side of each table had a privacy curtain, in heavy, dark red material. Most of the tables were for two, but some were pushed together to accommodate larger parties. There was space between and in front of the tables to allow the waiters and waitresses to do their thing.
Around the outside, there was a long curving bar with high stools. About a dozen girls in varying attire, but all as revealing as our usherette, were perched on some of the stools. They were, explained Eva, highly talented, but very expensive prostitutes. Any unaccompanied male was approached and offered company for the evening, the hour, or the night. In fact we were asked by the usherette if our ‘third gentleman needed a companion. We declined and took our, front row, seats. Our usherette went to join the other girls at the bar.
The head waiter, in full evening dress, materialised at out table, and presented menus while a waitress hovered to take drinks orders. She was in evening un-dress. She wore high heels, stockings and suspenders which disappeared tantalisingly up the legs of black French knickers. A tiny apron completed the ensemble. Pert little titties bobbed as she moved. Peter ordered two bottles of ‘Sekt’, German bubbly. The waitress bobbled off to fetch it
We selected our meal and sipped sekt while a few couples danced. The food arrived, served by waiters wearing tight boxer shorts, aprons, white cuffs and black bow ties. There chests were completely hairless.
The food was good, accompanied by the sekt and a sexy black singer, singing, we were told, very naughty songs. By the end of the meal we were relaxed and happy, ready for the cabaret. The girls excused themselves to visit the ladies, Manfred leaned over and said:
“I suggest that you make a pinkel, you will have an erection for the rest of the evening which may make you uncomfortable.”
So the three of us trooped out to the loo. There can be no equal to that toilet. The urinals were pink and shaped like gaping vulvas. As I stood at one of them, water softly trickled from it’s pee-hole in an automatic flush. At the hand basins, the soap dispenser was a miniature sculpted woman, knees raised, legs apart. You pressed either tit and her open cunt dispensed soap! The ‘tap’ was a slack penis which peed warm water when your hands were under it. There were large CCTV screens, currently displaying only the empty dance floor and the decoration was highly erotic, showing every imaginable sexual act, both hetero- and homo-.
Ann told me later that the ladies were similar. No urinals of course and the soap dispensers were erect pricks which spunked soap when the foreskin was pulled back! I could not resist a peep into one of the cubicles, but was disappointed to find a normal pan and cistern. Bog-standard in fact.
This allowed the other two to leave before I did and returning alone was immediately accosted by one of the bar girls. She was gorgeous. Her dress had a deeply plunging neckline which gaped open when she bent towards me. I could clearly see the dark areola which tipped each fine breast. She addressed me in good English, would I like to go upstairs with her?
The pleasures on offer were not described quite so explicitly as in the Sex-Mall, she indicated rather than spoke, the various places where I cold put my dick. “Or we can do tying up, or pissing. Whatever you like.”
The price quoted added a nought to those at the supermarket.
“I am with my wife.” I countered.
” I can do her also, or she can just watch.”
I politely declined and returned to the table. As I took my place in the centre of the fivesome, between Ann and Eva, Eva said,
“Be careful, they are not always female.”
I shot another glance back to the bar. Amazing. I would not have guessed.
The sound system was asking people to take their seats, the show was about to begin.
The house lights dimmed quickly the came back slowly. I those few seconds, it seemed that the dance floor had been replaced, or perhaps covered by, another floor, with a couch in the centre. At opposite sides of the floor were two figures. The man was at about the nine o-clock position, the girl at three o-clock, both facing out. They were both completely nude. She was black, he was white. But that is an over-simplification. He was very white, with a halo of pale blonde hair. All his other hair had been shaven, including his pubes, making his endowment, hanging at rest, seem even bigger. He was oiled all over. Gleaming in the stage lighting.
“Oh wow!” Gasped Ann.
The girl was ebony to his ivory. She seemed matt black. Powdered perhaps. She was completely shaven, head as well. She had the form of a dancer, taut and muscled. She had those sugar loaf tits that were almost the sole domain of afro-Caribbean women until implants became available. Her high, firm arse competed with the tits for sheer grabbability. She slowly turned towards us, her vaginal cleft was high and prominent with bulging outer lips.
“Oh wow!” Said I.
They began a slow, balletic dance, at first without contact but with movements designed to show every fold and crack of their bodies. Her cunt was dark red inside as it was stretched open with her lewd movements. Eventually they began to touch, more and more closely until the were wrapped like mating snakes. Soon she too, shone with oil transferred from him. He lifted her high and slowly turned her upside down, then lowered her down his front to where his prick was now standing up to meet the thick lips which she slid around his straining shaft. He then buried his face into her gaping cunt.
When he came up for air his lower face shone with her juices. She released her oral grasp on his tool and he turned her again. This time when he lowered her she became impaled on his cunt-hook. He walked slowly around the edge of the stage, pausing at each table to thrust in and out of her. She arched her back, head thrown back and tits pointing at the ceiling.
He carried her centre stage and laid back on the couch, she sat astride him, bent forward so that we could see his cock sliding in and out of her hole. Without disengaging, she turned to face his feet and the fucking resumed. Finally, he rolled her under him then pulled her up by the hips so that he could pound at her doggy style. I could hear the squelch as he pumped into her. They seemed to orgasm, probably simulated, separated and took their bow.
The audience applauded enthusiastically, but there were no encores, instead, the soft electronic voice just announced the next act. This time the lights snapped off, giving the audience no time to become accustomed to the dark while the props were changed.
The next act was a lesbian performance, no sleek male nudes for the ladies to gag over, but their turn would come later. The Sapphic frolic was well staged and well acted. It was set, I would guess, in the 1950’s, in the sleeping compartment of a train. The sound effects indicating a steam train. The compartment started off empty, then one girl entered and put her bag on the rack. She was followed by a second girl, who did the same. They were dressed fifties style and each wore a little hat, one with a veil. They came to an agreement about who should have the top bunk and began to undress.
Off came the winter coats, followed by the dresses. They both wore stunning, prick-stiffening lingerie, the sort which garnishes a woman’s body. Both facing the bunks, one girl looked long and hard at the skimpily clad backside of the other, then put out a hand to fondle a buttock. The other girl frowned at her, but then returned the compliment. They kissed, embraced, kissed some more, fondled each others tits and arses. Slowly the bra’s and knickers were discarded. Just high heels, stockings and suspenders now. And the hats.
More fondling and now some tit sucking. Then one girl sat widespread on the lower bunk, the other went down on her cunt. They ended up in a torrid sixty-nine, but not before the one with torpedo like tits had pushed each one in turn into the others fuck-hole and had the resulting sticky deposit licked off. By the time it ended I was not sure that I could hold on to the reservoir of spunk which was building in my balls. How many stiff pricks were out in the open under cover of those tables? And how many hands sliding up and down them? How many wet pussies were being stuffed full of fingers? I thought that I would come in my pants, but before it could happen, the girls finished each other off, kissed goodnight and climbed into their own beds. The act was finished, lights snapped off and the voice announced the next act.
This was different. The house lights were left on, but dimmed. Mr Mesmer – a hypnotist. Tall, dark and handsome. Dressed entirely in black and with a matching goatee beard and a moustache. His assistant was equally striking. A tall oriental girl in an ankle length dress. The dress had a high neck, so that she was covered from neck to ankle, but like the bar girls, the dress hid nothing, merely serving to accentuate what was beneath. The dress was slit both sides to hip level, long shapely legs were revealed when she moved.
The man started his act, with a low deep monotone, he caressed our ears. He meshed his fingers together by lacing the fingers of one hand through the backs of the other. The audience did the same. Ann and I joined in, even though we could not understand what he was saying. He stopped speaking and pulled his own hands apart. I did the same, as did most of the audience, but ten people, three men and seven women, could not unlock their fingers!
Among those still locked were Ann and Eva. We were sitting boy – girl – boy – girl – boy, with me in the middle, so when invited by the assistant, Manfred and Peter had to stand to let the girls out. The assistant arranged them in a curving line at the edge of the stage, facing the rest of us. They really did seem to have their hands glued together. The hypnotist moved along the line behind them, speaking softly. When he discovered that Ann spoke no German, he unlocked her and sent her back to her seat. She swears that her hands were genuinely stuck together. He gradually sent others back until there were two women and three men left on stage.
He had these five doing silly things, pretending they were chickens, soldiers marching etc. The he got down to the X-rated part. Peter translated for me while Manfred did the same for Ann. The hypnotist told the women to pretend that they were in sexual ecstasy. Eva squeezed her left tit with her right hand and rubbed her mound with the other. The other woman squeezed both tits while rubbing her thighs together. Both were fully dressed of course.
The hypnotist turned his attention to the men.
“Look at those women wanking,” he said, “would you like to wank?”
One of the men nodded and began to ‘air wank’. The other two were reluctant and were quickly retuned to their seats.
Mr Mesmer went back to the females.
“Are you wearing stockings or tights?” He demanded.
Both confirmed stockings.
“Are you wearing knickers?” He went on. Both nodded yes.
“Show me.” He commanded.
Both women seized the hems of their skirts and peeled their dresses over their heads. Eva revealing a pale blue bra and pants, with matching suspenders supporting black stockings. But she was trumped by the other girl. She wore red shoes and red underwear, but her bra was, well, frontless. It shelved her breasts on platforms supported by red straps either side and between her magnificent tits. Each tipped with a large, very stiff, dark nipple.
The audience went wild, cheering and clapping. The woman shook her tits at them in response.
“I think that we have a winner.”
Said the hypnotist. He de-tranced Eva, gave her the red rose from his buttonhole and the assistant led her back stage to re-dress. He turned to the man, who was still wanking.
“Stop that!” He ordered. “You’ll go deaf.”
He looked at the woman in red and then back to the man.
“Would you like to fuck her?”
He asked. The man nodded enthusiastically.
“Go on then.” Said hypno-man.
The man pulled the woman to him, she wrapped one leg around him, Tango style, he gripped her bum-cheeks and began to dry-hump her. The hypnotist allowed this to go on for about a minute, then stopped him.
“That’s enough,” he said, “save some for your wife.”
The assistant handed the hypnotist a large, black vibrator, he offered it to the man.
“Now fuck yourself,” he ordered, “up the arse.”
This time there was no response. The man was sent back to his seat.
I have read that, under hypnotism, a person will only go as far as his sub-conscious ‘conscience’ will allow. The man, like the others, had reached this point. But Eva had not, she had been dismissed for a faked up reason. Just how far would she have gone?
The hypnotist circled his last victim, admiring her body.
“What is your name?” He asked.
“A beautiful name, Anna. Remove your knickers, Anna.”
Anna obliged. I almost fainted. She was unshaven down there. A fetish of mine, probably dating back to my youth, when pussies were furry. I like shaven havens, or fully bushed, I don’t favour the current trend for ‘Brazilian’ strips, even though Wendy complies with the fashion.
“Do you like to suck cock, Anna?
She looked at him disdainfully.
“Of course, does not every one?”
The hypnotist turned to the audience and grimaced.
“Ich nicht.” He mouthed. “Not me.”
“Would you like to suck mine, Anna?”
The assistant helped him strip. His cock stuck out from his body. He took hold of it and offered it to Anna.
She did not kneel, she bent at the waist and drew him between her red lips, sucking noisily. She had her back to me and was no more than six feet away. She had her legs apart, her stockings stretched to the limit, shapely arse framed by the suspenders. Her lower lips protruded through the hair, shining with her juice. I could practically taste her.
He pushed her away, I could see lipstick on his shaft.
“Do you like to eat pussy, Anna?” Anna nodded again.
“Would you like to eat hers?”
Indicating his assistant. Another nod.
The assistant turned to allow the man to unzip her dress, full length, from neck to hem. The dress fell away revealing her fine body, nude apart from shoes.
She sat, then reclined on the couch, drew up her knees and spread them. In contrast to the other woman, she was shaven down there. She pulled her cunt lips apart and began to play with herself. Anna bent again, but this time with legs together. Her sex lips now were pushed out between her upper thighs by the pressure. Her arse thrust out, tits dangling free. She applied her mouth to the other girls gape and once again slurped noisily.
The hypnotist grinned wickedly to the audience and positioned himself behind sucking woman. He thumbed apart her plump wet lips, and positioned his shiny knob at her entrance. With one steady push he sheathed his sword in her scabbard. He pumped for a short time, then, first the licked, the licker and then the fucker grunted with orgasm.
Act three was over. The lights snapped out, then slowly rose and an intermission was announced. The waitresses returned to take drinks orders and Eva returned to her seat. She had stayed at the back until the act finished. We decide to have coffees.
Said Eva, indicating the bar area. Except for one, the bar girls were gone, upstairs doing business. Five seats were now occupied by men. The remaining bar girl was knelt between the legs of one of them, sucking his prick. As we watched, she finished him off, stood, took a mouthful of her drink, then knelt before the next man!
“She has been all the way along the row.” Said Eva. “Would you like to be next?”
“Not if she’s a man. ” I replied.
Eva grinned. She kissed me then slid down in her seat, beneath the table. She undid my pants, took out my straining boner and in one gulp, took four inches into her hot mouth. The rest of my body went rigid.
“What’s happening?” Asked Ann.
I took her hand and placed it on the exposed root of my shaft. Wendy gasped and gave me an astonished look. But the hand stayed there.
The waitress arrived with coffee cups and gave me a broad grin, Eva’s feet must have been sticking out from under the table! The waitress placed the cups on the table as I erupted deep into Eva’s mouth. She swallowed the lot and when my tool had softened enough, tucked it back into my trousers. She emerged as a waiter was topping up the cups with coffee. She kissed me on the mouth. I could taste my own spunk.
“Cream Madam?” The waiter enquired.
“Thank you no. I have just had some.” Eva replied.
During the break we discussed the show so far. We agreed that the orgasms were faked and that the hypnotist’s ‘victim’, had been part of the act. But both Wendy and Eva insisted that they had been under the control of Mr Mesmer. Would Eva’s sub-conscious inhibitions have stopped her from going all the way on-stage? Or would she have fucked the hypnotist?
“Oh yes,” she replied, “naturally.”
Act four was announced, the lights dimmed quickly. Lights up and the only thing on stage was an artificial tree. A young black man ran through the curtains and hid behind the tree. Seconds later, a white man dressed in jodhpurs, a loose shirt and a floppy brimmed hat entered. He was carrying a thick stick. He soon found the black boy and dragged him centre stage using a chain which was fastened around the boy’s neck – Slave and Master.
The boy just wore ragged shorts. The man raised the stick as if to hit the boy, but the boy pleaded with him not to. He would do anything. The man rubbed his chin, then stripped off his clothes. He gestured towards his soft prick and the boy knelt before him to suck it. Soon the white prick was stiff and the boy sucked expertly at the thing. The man pushed him away and gestured for the boy to remove his shorts and bend in front of him. He stroked his erection while the boy obeyed.
Both naked now, the man approached the boy from behind and lined up his cock with the boy’s arse. A prod or two and the tip was in. He let it rest a second, then pushed all the way in until his balls rested on those of his victim. He began to bugger the boy vigorously, his balls slapping against the boy’s cheeks. He reached round and grasped the boy’s cock, now also stiff and began to wank it. The boy straightened up to let the audience see the action, then ejaculated powerfully into the air. Jet after jet of white come arcing gracefully out of his thin black cock. An astonishing amount of spunk spattering onto the stage. The man roared and pumped his own spunk into the boy’s entrails. This was real. When he pulled out, we were allowed to see come running back out of the boy’s ravished arse-hole.
Wendy’s fingers were digging painfully into my thigh, her mouth was open and she was breathing hard. I placed my own hand on her knee and slid it up to the junction of her thighs. I found a hand already there, massaging her mound through her knickers. Manfred was getting acquainted. I withdrew my own hand and gave her a good luck kiss.
The lights came up for the next act. Centre stage was a ‘stake’, with a man lashed to it. The stake was T shaped and had a block about a foot off the ground for the man’s bare feet. His arms were tied to the cross-piece, so that his body also formed a T. He wore loose black trousers and a loose white shirt. The sort of blouse/shirt that film stars wore in Hollywood pirate movies. He sort of hung from his bonds, chin on chest.
A woman entered. She wore a red leather costume. Cut high on her hips, neck high at the front but with a cut-out over her cleavage and apart from a series of thin leather thongs, backless. The costume was very tight and moved with her. Thigh high stiletto heeled boots to match and a mask which covered the top part of her face and hair completed the ensemble. In her right hand was a long, black whip.
She walked slowly in a circle around the tethered man, trailing the whip. The man did not move. She paused before him. She removed a white carnation that had nestled in the cleavage cut out and tossed it high in the air. The whip snaked out with a swish and a loud crack, which brought squeals from some of the audience. The shattered flower fell like snow back to the stage. The man took notice.
She prowled again, but this time the man’s eyes followed. The whip cracked again. This time the man’s shirt was torn from him. Again and his pants followed. He was now naked. His cock hung limply. She used the thick handle of the whip to lift it for inspection, then let it fall back. Again she prowled. This time when she stopped, her hand went to the neck of her costume and she gently pulled it away, revealing her own fine nudity. Now his cock showed interest.
Another prowl. Another pause. She began to taunt him with her body, writhing in front of him, rubbing the whip-handle between her tits and sucking it as though is was a stiff prick. Soon, his was. Very. The whip snaked out and wrapped itself around his shaft. It brought tears to my eyes. She slowly allowed the lash to uncoil, giving him a rotary wank.
Finally she lay on the floor in front of him, knees raised and apart and slowly fed the whip-handle into her gaping cunt. She fucked herself with the makeshift dildo, squirming in passion. Suddenly his prick twitched and shot a stream of semen over her reclining body, spurt after spurt splashing onto her. Spontaneous ejaculation? Why not, I was close to it myself.
The lights snapped off. When they came back on, a couch was on stage. The couch, which had seen action several times that evening. At the back of the stage were several Corinthian columns. On stage was a roman soldier, – The Centurion. (Even though he seemed only to have four men.) He was inspecting the couch and it’s surroundings. When satisfied he called to his men, – The Praetorian Guard. They entered in single file, two soldiers, followed by six girls in see-through, white ankle length costumes, – The Virgins, then two more soldiers. The girls were lined up near the front of the stage, facing the audience. They were lit from behind so that their shapes could be seen through the thin costumes.
The Centurion left the stage and came back preceded by a vary small man in a purple toga. – The Emperor. He inspected the six girls, front and back, then indicated to the Centurion that they should be undraped. The Centurion gestured to his men and they unfastened the dresses at the neck and allowed them to pool around the girls ankles. Six very lovely naked ‘virgins’.
The Emperor made another inspection. He did not touch the girls, but ordered the Centurion to squeeze an occasional buttock or lift a tit. Which the Centurion did with enthusiasm. The Emperor made his choice, two girls. The others were allowed to retrieve their dresses and leave. Now one girl was ordered to dis-robe her master. The other girl was led to and laid on, the couch. Virgin one was told to kneel and suck the imperial cock up to stiffness. For a ‘virgin’, she seemed to know exactly what to do. When she came up for air, the Emperors baton was fully erect. It was huge! Even allowing for the diminutive form of it’s owner, if was quite a weapon.
One of the guards held down virgin two by the shoulders, while two more guards raised and parted her legs. We were treated to a fine view of the fruit on offer. Virgin one gave the Emperor’s sceptre another suck and guided it to the appointed place. Virgin two gave a little squeal as her ‘virginity’ was taken and then the Emperor began to shaft her royally. The guards withdrew to the back of the stage, ex-virgin two seemed now not to need holding down. She was enjoying it. He pulled out and ordered her turned, then re-entered doggy-style and resumed the fucking.
The four guards and the Centurion now had erections lifting the front of their tunics. Two of the guards put their hands up their skirts and began to wank. When the Centurion noticed, they were ordered to stop. The Emperor was close to climax, he jerked his bum as the imperial seed was spilled into the depths of his sex-slave. He pulled out and virgin one came forward to clean his prick with her mouth. Then she left.
He left the stage after giving the guards permission to use the now de-flowered girl. The guards stripped and lined up for their turn. One by one they climbed on top and gave her their best. Then they placed her on her knees and had her two at a time, one in the mouth, one in the cunt. The Centurion stood and watched, stroking his own ready cock.
The guards finished, one way or another and retreated to the rear of the stage. The Centurion bent to closely examine the now well-used slit. He stood up and castigated the four guards for making her so wet and slack, how was he going to get a grip in this over-bored hole? The guards left the stage while the Centurion considered his dilemma. Which did not take long, placing her on all-fours, he rammed his cock into her only un-used hole and sodomised her violently.
Satisfied, he pushed her off the couch and laid himself down. She gathered her flimsy garment to her and curled up at the foot of the couch. The lights dimmed slightly and soon he was snoring loudly. The girl stood up, checked to see if he really was asleep, the tip-toed off stage. She came back with the other five girls. All, for some reason, still nude. But who’s complaining?
At a signal from ravished woman, they pounced on the sleeping Centurion. There was much flailing of limbs, then a loud cry from him. The girls slipped away. He was tied across the couch, face down. Protruding from his backside was the blade of his Gladius, the short Roman sword. He had been buggered with the handle of his own weapon!
The lights snapped off, came up again and the entire company returned to take their bows. Not a stitch of clothing between them. The waiters rapidly appeared with the bills for each table. Eva used her card again to pay ours. The show was over. But not the evening.
The Mercedes was outside the door, the chauffeur opened the door for us. Eva and I sat in the rear facing seat, while Peter and Manfred drew Wendy down between them on the back seat. Before the car even started moving they had each liberated a tit from the top of Wendy’s dress and were feasting on the nipples. Below the waist they pulled the hem of her skirt up to it’s limit and Wendy co-operated by lifting her bum from the seat so that they could pull the dress up around her waist.
The light in the back of the car was dim, but good enough to allow a clear view of proceedings. Wendy was knickerless. Where had they gone? More surprisingly, she was hairless! Where had that gone? She was furry this morning! Her defoliation allowed a clear view of her vulva, which was gaping wide, courtesy of her legs being spread by the boy’s feet, one hooked around each of Wendy’s calves. Not that she needed help, she appeared to be loving it. Manfred and Peter each had an arm around Wendy’s waist, the spare hands were at work on her twat. Peter spread her lips while Manfred strummed her clit. Above the waist they alternated in kissing her mouth, while the other sucked on a stiff nipple. Her own hands were not idle, she had a stiff prick in each. But she was far too aroused to give either proper attention, she just held them tight, almost as though they were handles.
I had an arm around Eva and the hand of that arm had a firm grip on one of her breasts. My other hand was in her lap, fondling her mound through her dress. Her hand was on my boner, but we were both too entranced by the scene opposite to take our own gropings seriously. The boys brought Wendy to a shuddering climax just as the car pulled up outside the hotel.
The three opposite adjusted their clothing enough not to be arrested and we spilled out of the car, through the hotel doors and into the lift. The room keys were those credit card things, so no delay at reception. We went to their room, which was like ours but opposite handed. King size bed, large sofa, large TV. There was a race to be first undressed, then the boys pushed Wendy down onto the bed and started work on her.
She was lying at the foot of the bed, with her legs draped over the end. Peter spread her legs and went, tongue first, for her hairless crack. Manfred knelt at the other end and fed his erection into her mouth. Eva and I had to make do with the couch, but it had the advantage of a fine view of the bed action. I was desperate to get my cock into Eva’s cunt, but did not want to relinquish the view of my wife being seen to. Eva solved the problem by sitting on my lap, feeding me into her wet hole as she did so.
Perfect. Cock fully encased in Eva’s warm slot, hands free to explore her fine tits, alternating with rubbing her oily bud. Eva joined in with this, rubbing her own clit just the way she preferred. Peter brought Wendy off again with his mouth, then quickly moved to slip his prick into her dripping, gaping cunt. His need was great, he humped frantically to bring himself off. I was close again, but decided that I would try not to come just yet. I had already spent twice today. I knew that I could come again, probably a fourth time, but five may have been beyond my reach.
I mused that, assuming the boys had not yet come today, and if they were capable of four or even five ejaculations, Wendy could well be on the sticky end of ten! As it turned out she was to get even more.
Peter began to thrust jerkily, pumping his stuff into Wendy. Eva, who was wanking herself in time with his thrusts, bore down onto my prong and shuddered into her own climax.
Manfred pulled out of Wendy’s mouth, quickly came round the bed and pulled Peter off her, quickly taking his place. He too, seemed to be in training for the sex Olympics, racing for the finish. It took him no more than a couple of minutes to send a second helping of semen to join that of his fellow fucker.
Said Eva, standing up and disengaging me from her adorable cavity. I did not want to fuck Wendy, I wanted Eva, but Eva had decided.
“Imagine how Wendy will feel to be fucked by three men.” She explained.
She pushed me into place between Wendy’s thighs, still delightfully garnished by stocking tops and suspenders, and literally fed me into Wendy’s overflowing quim.
It felt warm, wet and wide, but deliciously dirty and I could not help beginning to bang into her. “Yes,” I thought, “three loads of come in quick succession. How wonderful to be a woman. And quick it was, I was squirting in no time, spurt after hot spurt into the already come filled hole.
I rested inside Wendy until I went soft, then slipped out, followed by a near torrent of spunk. Eva pushed me out of the way and applied her mouth to staunch the flow, slurping frantically at the rich, three cock cocktail. My prick snapped back to full attention, I had never seen a hornier sight. My whore-for-the-night, sucking the combined prick-loads of three men’s spunk from my wife’s ravished cunt.
Eva’s arse bobbed invitingly before me, her slit bulging out between her squeezed together thighs, framed by suspenders and stockings. I stepped up to the mark, applied my bulging tip to her tight entrance and slid deep into heaven. Eva brought Wendy off yet again, then turned to watch me power into her. Wendy propped herself up on her elbows so that she too, could enjoy the show. This time seemed to take ages, I thought that I might have to take a break and come back later. But no. There was the unmistakeable feeling of a rising climax. It hurt as I spouted, but spout I did.
I was now reduced to the role of spectator, but there was plenty to watch. The boys used Wendy relentlessly. At no time was there not one or other of the pricks in one or other of her holes. They fucked her singly and together. Every position was used to keep her entertained. Cunt, mouth and arsehole were repeatedly pumped full of spunk.
Eventually they took a break for drinks. Wendy shone with sweat and spunk. Eva suddenly said;
Good idea, I thought, I could do with cleaning up. But a trip to the bathroom was not what she meant. Wendy was told to lie on the bed, on her back. The boys stood one at each side and began wanking their re-aroused cocks. They were going to shower Wendy with come! Eva pulled me onto the bed and positioned me between Wendy’s legs, reached over and began to pull at my depleted prick. Amazingly, I felt the sap rise yet again, inspired by the wanking men and what they were about to do.
With a great cry, Peter came first. An unbelievable amount of semen poured from him onto Wendy’s face. She opened her mouth to catch it, licking her lips as they were splashed with the stuff. Manfred erupted next and directed his stream onto Wendy’s heaving tits. Wendy’s fingers were a blur between her legs as she frantically rubbed her clit. This was Eva’s chosen target. When I did eventually come, she aimed the spurts at the junction of Wendy’s thighs.
There was another break, then the boys started on Wendy yet again. Each combination was re-tried, each hole plugged and re-plugged. Eva lay alongside Wendy raised and spread her legs in a frog position and said to me,
“Once more. In my arse
How could I refuse? It was sweet agony to push my depleted tool into the tight, forbidden hole of her anus. Eva turned to Wendy and kissed her on the mouth as I drove myself to one last hurrah. I came. Weakly, but there was something. Then I was finished. Possibly I thought, for life!
I sat back on the couch with a drink and watched the others continue their sport. Now with three more available holes, the boys demands on Wendy were reduced. How could they possibly keep this up. Eventually, they too were spent. Rather sheepishly, Wendy and I gathered up our cloths and said goodnight.
It was late when we awoke. We tapped at our neighbours door. No reply. We hurried down for breakfast, enquired at the desk for our friends, but were informed that they had left early. We packed in silence and made our way to the airport. We were able to catch the next plane home. There was little in the way of conversation.
I was able to get it up again. Quite soon. Eva had not spoiled me forever. Wendy too, was soon back to normal, if rather sore.
Exactly one week following our night of debauchery, I gave her a big bunch of flowers and kissed her. “Good choice, Hamburg.” I said.