Pierre was not my lover, even though we lived in the same estaminet. But we had been friends for a long time, ever since I had come to live in Paris.. He didn't seem to make friends easily, and I think he was envious of all the friends I had. It was so much easier for a girl in those days in Paris.
He certainly envied me my monthly meetings at the Salon. All he knew about them was that I belonged to some kind of Secret Society, and I refused to tell him anything about it. Anyway, finally I agreed to put him up for membership. We had to wait three months, because the Society only inducted new members in pairs, and the requirements for membership were strictly observed.
Finally the evening arrived, and I took Pierre to the old mansion where we met. He had so many questions--- what we did at our meetings, why it was so secret, why the fees were so steep, and more than anything why he was required to pass a medical examination before being accepted.
He was greeted by two gentlemen, who escorted him to the changing room and explained that he would be required to change into a white robe for the initiation ceremony. After a suitable time had elapsed, he was fetched by the same two gentlemen, and escorted into the main reception room where we all waited.
He must have been intrigued by the requirement to remove all his clothes before donning the ceremonial white robe. He must have been even more impressed by the sight that awaited him. Sixty of us were standing in two lines, thirty men along one side of the banquet hall and thirty women along the other side. All of us stood applauding him, all of us stark naked, some of the men already displaying their anxiety to begin the evening's entertainment, their banners at various stages of erection. The white robe was taken from Pierre, and he was required to walk the length of the room between the two ranks. Few men could have gazed at the row of naked women, all deliberately displaying their sexual attractions as ostentatiously as they knew how, without developing a respectable erection. Pierre was not one of those few. His chopper rose to the horizontal almost immediately, and as he walked across the hall the ladies applauded his tumescence enthusiastically. I should explain that Pierre was a young man of superb stature, and I was already regretting not earlier proposing him for membership.
Another door opened, and another white gowned figure was escorted into the room. She also was divested of her robe, and also required to walk between the two ranks of naked spectators. This was a young lady, beautiful of feature and magnificent of other bodily parts. As we all were, for membership required the qualification of sexual attractiveness.
This new initiate walked proudly past the eighty critical, and in most cases lascivious, eyes, her pointed breasts thrust forward and jiggling from side to side as she walked. Little could be seen of the portion of her anatomy I was sure must already be hungry to swallow the prick she could see waiting for her. Her pubic area was shaved smooth, and her outer lips were still virginally closed.
We broke ranks, and the two initiates were taken to separate couches brightly lit by floodlights. The remainder of the lights in the room were lowered so that no-one's face could be recognized.
The preparations were simple, though stimulating. Each initiate was to be prepared for the ceremony of the nuptial ravishment, and we all gathered round one or other of the couches to watch. Pierre was laid full length on his back, his organ swollen and rampant as he realized the import of the proceedings, and the girl whose name I learned was Rosamund was similarly stretched out on her back. Two beautiful naked nymphs were assigned to Pierre, while two well endowed stallions were to attend his bride of the evening. As I watched the two naked girls whose duty it was to stimulate Pierre to complete readiness, and the girl Rosamund who was to be similarly stimulated, the memory of my own initiation had my own cunt already achingly empty and wetting my naked thighs. Indeed, I had to restrain myself with difficulty from using my fingers to masturbate it. It was against the rules of the club for any man or woman to minister to his or her own sexual desires.
One of the girls gently spread Pierre's legs, and fitted a cock ring over his cock, forcing it down till it lodged against the front of a ball bag that the heat of the room had made large and loose. The other girl poured lotion from a bottle into the palm of her hand, and began to lubricate the prick that was rising like a pole from Pierre's crotch. At first it was a simple act of spreading the liquid over every part of his cock, making sure that no part of it remained unlubricated. But soon it became an act of masturbation, as her fingers enclosed the swelling shaft, squeezing and massaging, stretching the sensitive cleft on its underside and leaving the great mushroom shaped knob to swell by itself.
I took a quick look at the onlookers, though unwilling to miss any of Pierre's initiation into public masturbation. Among the onlookers hands were being taken in hand, and guided to play with genitalia that must have felt like mine, desperate for stimulation. My own arm was already reaching round the naked thighs of the man in front of me, my fingers finding the erection that watching the ministrations of Pierre's two nymphs was evidently causing. Quickly, as I watched the reactions of Pierre's prick, I was enclosing my companion's prick and exploring its whole tumescent length. And then a hand whose origin I was not concerned to trace was caressing my groin, finding the wet opening of my vulva, pressing my clitoris, stimulating my labia, probing the wide open entrance of my vagina.
The raw sexuality of the whole initiation, the sight of Pierre's nakedness, the awareness that almost unbearable masturbation was being suffered by a friend I had never before considered sexually, the excitement of playing with an anonymous prick, and the effects of skilful masturbation of my own genitalia by an unknown hand were combining to take me over the top. My own body began to writhe, and my gasps joined an increasing orgasming chorus from around me.
.
Meanwhile the knob at the end of Pierre's prick was being encircled by a gentle finger and thumb which caressed the great distended fruit whose surface was so stretched that it shone smooth and bright red. The other naked attendant was leaning over Pierre's face, her swelling nipple pressed into his willing mouth, and instinctively my free hand went to my own breast to squeeze and excite my own nipple. Pierre's thighs were opening and closing, his whole body beginning to writhe as mine had moments before. I wondered how long it would be before he was ready to ejaculate, something that must on no account occur too early in the proceedings. But the girls were experienced, and would know just how far they could provoke him before giving the onlookers the explosion they waited for..
I decided to see what was happening to the other half of the ceremony. Reluctantly I released the swollen prick that my hand was enclosing, and disconnected the fingers exploring my cunt. I had to force my way between the press of naked bodies to cross the room to where Rosamund lay stretched out on a couch, naked, her writhing body being stimulated by her two attendants. One great stud stood astride her head, his rampant prick thrust out from between his thighs just inches above her face while his balls swung close above her eyes. Each of his hands held one of her breasts, caressing, squeezing, kneading, his fingers frequently moving to rub and squeeze tumescent nipples that projected from their aureola like two little penises. The other stud's face was between her widespread thighs, his tongue thrust as far inside her throbbing cunt as it would reach and one thumb rubbing a clitoris like a tiny nut.
As I watched, Rosamund's legs opened wider still, and then convulsively closed to cross over her stud's back, her thighs holding his head imprisoned in her crotch. Her whole body was writhing in ecstatic agony, her breasts thrusting up against her tormentor's hands, her belly rolling from side to side, her navel opening and closing like a winking eye. I could hear a succession of moans and wails as her head tossed from side to side.
I was glad that I had arrived in time, because at that moment the orgasm that had been steadily growing finally erupted. A muffled scream escaped Rosamund's mouth. Her legs flew apart and kicked wildly into the air. Her hands clamped onto her attendant's head to press it even more closely into the cunt that must have already have been soaking his face with her juice, and was now filling his mouth with the cum of a glorious orgasm. And a groping hand belonging to the anonymous person in front of me found my cunt and began to masturbate it at a rate that told me its owner, too, must have been in the throes of orgasm.
Rosamund was lucky, I thought. She could be made to cum again and again, and still be ready for the final act. Pierre would have to be manipulated carefully. The rules required him to be worked up to the maximum before erupting in an orgasm worthy of the occasion, after which he must be brought again to the brink, ready for the triumphant finale. I wanted to return to Pierre, but the hand masturbating me belonged to an expert and there was no way I could tear myself away from the excruciating delight of a coming cumming. I gave myself up to ecstasy, and thrust my groin into the unknown hand, willing it to stretch my cunt wider, to masturbate faster, to never never stop. The sight of the naked girl cumming so violently on the couch, the thought of the excruciating pleasures being induced by her two tormentors having their way with her nipples and her cunt, and the sensations coursing through every part of my clitoris and my vagina finally overwhelmed me. And I forgot about my friend Pierre in the ecstasy of my orgasm.
As I was coming down from the peak, I was aware of a hard object stabbing urgently between my ass cheeks, and I remembered my duty to give to others the pleasure that I had just enjoyed. I reached behind me to find a rock hard prick that unaccountably had no hand to masturbate it to its imminent climax. I was only just in time, because as my hand closed round it and before I could begin pleasuring it the whole rigid shaft surged, and the semen that must have been boiling inside began spurting out and pouring over my cheeks. My masturbating hand knew exactly what to do, and timed its thrusts to the ejaculations, never stopping till it had drained every last drop of jism from deep inside the man behind me..
When I was finally capable of thinking about Pierre again, I made my way through the naked and mostly orgasming crowd
toward Pierre's couch. Pierre's face was out of sight, buried beneath the buttocks of one of his attendants. She was kneeling astride his head, her rounded ass seated firmly down on his face, squirming itself round and round to extract every last scrap of sexual delight from the feel of his mouth pressed into her cunt as she forced her crotch onto his face in her orgasm. This was supposed to be for him, I thought, not for the tormentors. But when I looked at the bloated weapon in the masturbating hand of the other nymph, I could see they had done their job well. Pierre would not last much longer.
