Friday evening. Officially, girls’ night out. Two hours from my hearth. I park on the familiar gravel lot. Full moon glows. I breathe deep, crisp air. Nerves always twitch at the start of these naughty jaunts.
Black peep-toe heels crunch stones. Ignore the pink neon ‘Good Encounters.’ Approach the ancient building. Knock the bronze Bacchus handle. Massive oak door swings open.
The Privilege
‘Liliane, delight!’ The mature manager smiles. Small talk flows. He hands vestiaire keys. Returns to his post. Liliane—my alias for a bold high school friend.
Hallway drips red taffetas walls. Marble nudes watch. Exotic plants line grand stairs—eccentric opulence.
Vestiaire: shed city clothes. Glide black silk mini over generous curves. Mirror: cherry lipstick plumps full lips. Blush highlights cheekbones. Eyes bare—doe-like, thick lashes, emerald pupils that hypnotize, per my last lover.
No longer devoted wife, attentive mom to a famed designer’s child—who knows nothing of Friday nights. I’m Liliane, thirties regular at this rural swingers’ club, found online years ago.
Langorous sway to the bar. Olav, hulking bartender, mixes vibrant elixirs with sharp flair. Smiles. Slides my favorite cocktail—no words needed. Wink back.
Perch high stool. Cross, uncross legs. Silk rides up, teasing my sex. Ten solos in evening wear. Some nurse drinks nervously at bar. Others lounge in corners. All feign poise amid baroque walls painted with Kamasutra couplings. Early evening ritual.
Eyes on central oval bed. Empty still—too soon. Sip through straw. Recall first time: adrenaline rush accepting a stranger’s intimacy. Surprise—no Adonis bodies, just diverse flesh. Ages thirty to forty mostly. Rarer youths, solo men dominant. Varies by theme: solos tonight, past ‘women only,’ ‘curvy nights.’ I crave variety.
Libertinage: respect first, flesh second. Natural flow, no force. Luck in partners. Gérant polices rare drunks—reputation sacred.
Feline silhouette enters: Mya, ‘the Sweet.’ Leather-clad grace. Twenty-five? Sculpted, zero fat. Claims oval bed center. All eyes lock. Unlaces corset slowly. Cinched waist lifts massive tits.
Predict the long-haired bar man joins. Ghost-struck stare. She frees pearlescent globes. Dark areolas, stiff nipples caressed playfully under dim neons.
Unknown interrupts. ‘Mind if I sit?’ Polite smile. Eyes lock—blue-gray sparks desire low. Thirties like me, silver-flecked hair. Imagine married exec, sex-starved months. My job to unwind him. Lip bite.
Scenarios thrill me. Feline or cuddly tonight? Tender or beast? Adrenaline coils.
Accept his cigarette. ‘Often here? Chat quieter?’ Banter ends. ‘Mikal.’ Eyes on my plump ass as we head to themed suites. ‘Sea Voyage’ free—nautical cabin vibe. Enter. He locks. Privacy sealed.
Kisses hand softly. Dive into gray eyes. ‘Superb,’ he breathes. Silence—words spoil. He’d stammer thanks anyway.
Unbuttons white shirt. Dims lights. Semi-dark. Leads to bed. Sit prim, shy. Lie beside. Nestle strong arms, savor musky cologne. Fingers trace his chest. Breath evens.
Love slow finger caresses. Timeless haze of serenity, thrill. Reality fades—pure exchange.
His hand on shoulder. Shiver. Down silk to full, taut breasts. No bra—guessed? Breath quickens. Slips straps. Tease fabric outline. Circles nipples, denies peaks. Yanks down to navel. Milky swells mesmerize. Warm breath prickles.
The Excess
Tongue laps hard nipple. Grimace pleasure. Sucks fierce. Waves build—gentle firm rolls, puppy nips. Push head lower instinctively. Eyes meet, complicit. Lips trail navel. Silk blocks.
‘Lose the dress.’ Obey, wriggle off. Bare pussy shocks. Flips me prone. Tremble, eyes shut. Kisses thick thighs. Parts roughly.
Stares at slick folds. Wetness surges. Legs splay inviting. Hot breath hits. Tongue butterflies clit. Lifts ass. Dives in.
Cry out. Tongue rasps slit, sharpens on swollen nub. Sucks, nips cruel. Writhe, moan low. Climax nears—push away. See his pant bulge straining.
Rip belt. Fumble pants. He aids. Side by side. Unveil thick cock gently. Tease from balls to glistening head. Nail frein. Groan. Smear pre-cum.
‘Lick.’ Dart tongue tip. Hips buck denied. Lick shaft slow, torture. Engulf sudden. Lips clamp, tongue whirls. Hand pumps, other rubs my clit in sync.
His hand guides thrusts. Feel pulse peak. Stop. ‘Fuck me,’ rasp.
Condom on. Pull close. Roll. Chest to tits, groins grind. Guide to clit, then plunge deep. Legs lock waist. Still communion.
Camper, slide slow. He grips tit, devours other. Meet harder thrusts. Pounding syncs ecstasy. Nails rake back. Finger clit frantic. ‘Coming—harder!’
‘Yes.’ Final slam. Mutual shatter. Stroke wild as cock throbs seed. Bodies quake unison, eyes rolled.
Collapse. Separate. Reality creeps.
‘Liliane.’ Tender smile. Kiss hand. Shower slow. Dress: old jeans, sweater. He watches. ‘Prefer you robed.’ Complicit glance. Slip out, head high, heart light, cunt sated.
Main room throbs now. New arrivals. Couples rut on oval bed. Energy spent—crave home, husband, child.
Pause: Mya skirt-hiked, pounded by bar man. Beast grunts. Mature guy jerks nearby. He nears her mouth—ignored. Climax roars: condom fills, then duo arches.
Time. Salute gérant. Vanish into night, feather-light.
Dawn stretch in marital bed. Husband stirs. ‘Good night?’
‘Yes, usual girls’ chat. Nothing special.’
Turns away. No probe. Odd glint? Suspects? Stay ideal wife-mom. Reveal Liliane later. Not now. Secret safe.
