1. The Little Black Choker


    Date: 3/20/2015, Categories: Fantasy, BDSM, Erotica, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Written by women, Author: shell pelt, Rating: 87.5, Source: sexstories.com

    shower. After getting the water temperature perfect I stepped in to the flow of soothing water, letting it envelop my body. I love the feeling of the warm water cascading through my hair, following the curve of my back, and curling around my ass as it dribbles away from my pussy. My old fantasy of joining a swingers club started to return. Were they really like I imagined? Groups of beautiful naked bodies twisting and cavorting in ecstasy? Strangers staring at my body with desire and probing me with their fingers among other things? I shifted my stance in the shower changing the warm flow. The path now took the water mostly down my front ending with the water dripping off my hard nipples. I loaded my puff with bath lotion and started slowly caressing myself, lost in fantasy. I imagined that two way mirrors hid club members from my view as they watched me showering. I gently tugged on my hard soapy nipples. I felt their eyes on me. I was sure they were naked too and becoming as aroused as I was. I started to lather my pussy. It felt so good as I leaned back into the warm tile wall. My left hand was massaging my lips as my right hand tugged at my nipples. One by one, my fingers started to penetrate me, curling up to my g-spot. Oh my god, I loved this so much. My thumb joined in the fun now, as it toyed with my growing clit. My hips started moving in rhythm with my hand. I felt their eyes on me and I saw them start cuming as I started to whimper at the approach of my own ...
    orgasm. The “yes, yes, yes.” I yelled out, as I came, was more a response to Devin’s plan, than to my body’s own pleasure. As I toweled off and wrapped my hair up, I slipped on my most luxurious robe. I sat down in front of my computer and began an exploration of the world of polyamory. The famous swinging clubs around the country sounded kind of pitiful, to me at least. Accounts I read, described middle aged couples, in less than top shape, engaged in swap play. Some descriptions told of tourists sipping drinks watching it all, only to leave after an hour with the taste of cheap liquor on their tongues and stories to tell --or not tell-- their friends back in Iowa. The most intriguing venues, to me, were those gatherings in private homes by invitation. These parties had dress codes, grooming rules, and very specific policies of behavior. Based on Devin’s magazines, there were two such clubs close by our location. I had the most delightful dreams of what the swinging life style was like that night. First thing in the morning, I called Devin and told him to meet me for dinner at our favorite restaurant. “Devin,” I said looking him straight in the eyes over the candle at our table, “is this something you really want to do?” “Only with you by my side Linds,” Devin earnestly said. “I think it could really bring us closer.” “If it doesn’t rip us apart,” I hastily interjected. “Wouldn’t you be wild with jealousy watching another guy - or other guys - fucking me in front of you?” Devin ...
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