Hi, my name is Anabelle Joy. I'm a journalist reporting on anything and everything to do with intimacy and pleasure. Please enjoy the stories about my ventures into the world of temptation and sex parties.
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"Anabelle, it's lovely to finally meet you!" I hear a voice call when I arrive at the yacht.
Alexander Schmidt is exactly like I pictured him. Mischievous, decorated with too many gold chains, and with a charming smile of whitened teeth. His black shirt sits tight around his broad, hairy, suntanned chest. The top three buttons are nonchalantly left open. A cloud of perfume surrounds him, surely from an expensive brand. He asks if I have time for an exclusive tour of the place.
"And please, leave your baggage here, Anabelle, it will be delivered to your suite for you."
The luxury yacht's name is Atlantis, named after the legendary (and almost archetypal) lost continent that was supposed to have sunk into the Atlantic Ocean. Not the best name for a ship in my opinion.
There are several floors, with a total of fifty suites. All the way at the bottom is a club, with a state-of-the-art sound system (of course). One floor up is an immense spa complex with marble jacuzzi's, different types of sauna's, multiple massage rooms, and... What's this?
We're standing in a room made completely from glass: pillars, podium, ceiling, floor. Looking down, I see people dancing in the club. There's nothing else in this strange room.
"You'll find out later," Alexander says, reading my questioning look. There's a mysterious note to his voice. I suspect this room is part of the reason I was invited here.
Next up is the champagne bar. And the multi-Michelin-star restaurant. When I ask myself if I've seen all of the yacht, Alexander takes me up a marble staircase onto the main deck. Oh my god, look at the pool! What an exceptional place to swim. Or other things I think as I see men and women in all states of undress.
Tonight is opening night. The theme was Greek Divinity. I'm wearing my white dress with a long split on both sides, giving everyone a view of my legs up to my waist when I walk. It's also sleeveless, with a low cut under the armpits, exposing the gentle curve of my sideboobs. Sexy, but not too much. I enter the dining room and let my gaze wander across the richly adorned chandeliers, beautifully set round tables with pearl table cloths and golden candleholders. A lot of stunning women, dressed as sexy Greek goddesses, are already seated. At first glance, only a third of those invited are men. I'm guided to my seat by two dazzling women. Everyone at the table takes in everyone, eyes lingering on the less concealed parts of the outfits.
I get to talking. The man next to me is an executive at a pharmaceutical company. The other two women nearby also have high positions: one as a marketing manager at a Swiss bank, the other as the head of PR for a sextoy company. It's the second time they are here together, they say with all-revealing smiles. They were invited to a more exclusive pre-party a couple of weeks back. The way they mention it and the gleam in their eyes says more than a thousand words.
While our glasses of champagne are constantly topped off, the atmosphere around the table becomes looser. I witness the head of PR rub shoulders with the pharma exec. From his posture and facial expression I surmise that the naughty woman has reached her hand between his legs...
At the surrounding tables it's less subtle. Holy shit, on that table a woman is lying with her legs spread, in between the plates and cutlery. Her dress is lifted and her underwear missing. Mmmh, I can see how wet she is before a man's head blocks the view as he goes in for a taste.
It's the right time to refresh myself outside and I leave for the main deck. But there I realise I'll not be able to do that. In and around the pool I see young, beautiful women licking each other's pussy. Not much farther, on the stairs, a woman is riding a man with a feverish expression.
