A Visit to a Special Club

It was a large mansion, in an old neighborhood in the suburbs. Set off by itself, surrounded by trees, isolated from neighbors. That, of course, was its appeal.

We had been invited (admittance was by invitation only) by my girlfriend's coworker. The only thing we knew of this club was the requirement to be open minded, and interested in sensual pleasure. The details of what took place there were vague; it was a place to be experienced, not to be talked about.

My girlfriend Clarice and I were in the market for some new excitement. Together 3 years now, we were fully comfortable with each other -- but maybe too comfortable. We wanted to recapture that tingling excitement that a new sexual experience, a different touch, maybe even a different lover, entails -- without losing each other.

After giving the man at the front door our names, we were admitted. A pretty young woman named Eve escorted us to a small cloak room. "I know this is your first time here. We have two wings to the house. One is CMNF, the other CFNM. Admittance is by couples. Which wing do you choose?"

We hadn't considered that one of us had to strip, while the other would remain clothed. Yikes. Clarice looked at me. "With your sex drive, I assume you'll be delighted to lose your clothes," she said.

Actually, she had it backwards. With my sex drive, I was looking forward to seeing naked women. (My own disrobing would come later.)

"Can we alternate?" I asked Eve. "Start in one wing, then switch to the other?"

She pondered this a moment. "Well, there is nothing prohibiting it, but the reality is that once you're in one wing, the various activities going on there will pretty much occupy your evening. You need to select one. The other wing is best for a different visit."

A very pragmatic answer, but that didn't help us decide.

"You have such a beautiful figure, it would be a shame to deny the men," I suggested to Clarice. "Let's do the Clothed Man, Nude Female wing,"

"Trying to get your way with flattery, as usual," Clarice answered. After 3 years together, she knew me. "No, I think this a Clothed Female, Nude Male night. Nude women can be seen all over -- in movies, in advertisements, hanging on museum walls. Girls don't often get to see fully naked men. Indulge me," she said.

"It would be weird to be naked among clothed women," I said.

"Oh poor you," my girlfriend 'consoled' me; "you might be examined like a piece of meat. Well, welcome to a woman's world. Time to strip, mister."

This wasn't how I had envisioned this evening going, but we had to resolve this. Eve was waiting patiently for us to decide.

"All right, I'll do it," I said to Clarice. "But you owe me."

There was a pause as I waited for Eve to leave the room. She didn't move.

"I'll collect your clothes and see them put away," Eve volunteered. And she stood there. Clearly I was supposed to disrobe in front of her. Of course -- wasn't it my lot tonight to be nude among women? Why start with foolish modesty?

I unbuttoned my shirt, and pulled it off. I handed it to Eve. Then the undershirt. I have a decent set of muscles, and I generally feel good about my body. I wondered if Eve appreciated it. (A little male vanity?) I kicked off my shoes, then unfastened the pants. I lowered them, dressed now only in briefs.

I paused. Eve waited. Clarice waited. Oh my. I hooked my thumbs into the sides of the briefs and lowered them. I bent over to free them from my feet, giving Eve a nice look at my backside. And my front side. I gave the briefs to her. My penis hung down, mercifully flaccid. I would have been embarrassed to start with an erection.

"At the end of the evening, your clothes will be waiting for you," Eve said. "Now follow me."

Eve opened the door and we exited, turning to the left. To the CFNM wing. I cast my eyes to the right, wistfully hoping that I'd see into the other wing. But all that was visible was a closed door.

Once inside, I viewed the throng of people. All the men were naked, of course. Some a little overweight, some well-muscled, some lumpy from years sitting in front of a computer screen. And their male organs, awash in pubic hair, were conspicuous as an outcrop among pale skin. Some penises were long, some shriveled (cold will do that), some circumcised, some still with their foreskin. The women were beautifully dressed, in clothes that emphasized their curves. Curves that I had to imagine, at least for now. I hoped that would be remedied at some point this evening.

As the new arrivals, all eyes swung to meet us. Or more accurately, to observe the naked me. Scores of eyes (the men too) washed over my body, evaluating, judging. A few nods of approval, perhaps a few reproaches over some sagging skin? Clarice and I went to the bar and got drinks. God, did I need alcohol.

There was soft music playing, orchestrated by a DJ, the only man in the room wearing clothes. (If I were a member, I'd complain about that oversight. Who does he think he is?)

We circulated around the room. Clarice struck up conversations with some of the other women. I for sure did not approach any man -- forget liberal society, a heterosexual guy with a penis swinging loose would never consider chatting up another naked man. So, I followed Clarice, making eye contact only with the other women, while their eyes swept over me, they with polite, amused smiles.

Maybe in time I'd get used to this, but I doubted it. Where was this evening going?

As if to answer my question, the DJ, who also functioned as a moderator, stopped the music and addressed the crowd.

"So good to see many familiar faces," he said. "Of course, some of you we recognize by other body parts," he added for his own amusement. (Hilarious.) "For you newcomers, welcome to Club Bacchanal. We'll play a few games to loosen things up. Our first contest tonight is our own version of speed dating. We'll take two volunteer couples. The object will be to see which lady can bring her partner to orgasm the fastest. To make this fair, both men have to start from zero, if you know what I mean. And no holds barred. There will be a nice prize for the winner from our collection of erotic toys and implements."

A number of couples raised their hands and two were selected. The men were laid out on separate massage tables. A bottle of massage lotion was next to each table. The men's ladies positioned themselves alongside. At a signal, the women attacked. Woman #1 began by kissing the man, while her hand snaked down his chest.

Woman #2 wasted no time on foreplay, immediately grabbing her partner's penis and sucking on it.

Woman #1 filled her hand with massage oil, and stroked along the man's thighs. She tantalizingly brushed against the penis, causing the organ to stir. Taking it at the base, she stroked upward.

Woman #2 meanwhile was using an obviously practiced oral technique to excite her man. Her left hand massaged the testicles and the perineum. The penis rose to fill her mouth.

Woman #1, seeing that she was falling behind (her man's penis was only half risen), lifted her blouse to expose bare breasts. She waved them in front of his face and continued to massage the penis with her hand.

The battle continued, but the direct approach prevailed, and man #2 began to moan and arched his middle. It was clear he wouldn't last. With a cry, he exploded into his woman's mouth.

Polite applause celebrated the win. While the two couples were escorted off to clean up, the DJ announced the next game.

"Great job, both of you. Our second contest of the night is that old children's favorite -- with an adult twist. We'll play musical chairs. We'll take 6 men, along with 5 women, all chosen at random. The women will sit in 5 chairs. When the music starts, the men will circle. When the music stops, they have to find a lap to sit on. The extra man is eliminated. Then we remove a chair and repeat. The last man to find the remaining lap is the winner.

The woman and chairs were arranged in a circle, and the men circled around. When the music stopped, each man dived for the nearest lap. Some sat facing the woman, straddling her, his genitals resting on that unfamiliar lap. This allowed face-to-face, and tongue-to-tongue, contact. Some sat presenting their rear ends first. This let the woman wrap her arms around the seated man, and cope a feel on exposed body parts. Hard to remain strangers after a few rounds of this game.

When the game finished, and the last man (and woman) awarded their prizes, the DJ suggested the final game.

"This has been a great night seeing all these naked men. But for the most part, women's modesty has gotten a free pass. That changes now. Two men are going to compete for the right to remove the clothes from one lucky lady and pleasure her. The lady will be selected from the newcomers. We have three first-time women tonight. By lot, we'll draw a name. Now, our lawyers have advised us that we can't force a newcomer to participate. But I know that having come here, you accept the spirit of this club. And we have a very special prize for the winning man and woman."

I could see Clarice freeze. She knew she was one of the three. Would she have the nerve to be pleasured by a strange man, or would she refuse? Surely if she refused we would never be invited back. But more to the point: was her modesty more valuable than mine, I who at her insistence have paraded the night nude in front of dozens of people? But maybe she wouldn't be chosen. The odds were in her favor.

"The lucky lady tonight is Clarice," the DJ announced. A wave of applause surrounded her as she stood stone-faced, contemplating her fate. What would she do?

Two men were chosen from among volunteers. (I did not volunteer, something I'd get an earful about from Clarice later that night.) They would wrestle in a 10 feet diameter plastic swimming pool full of "mud." The object was to pin the other.

The two volunteer wrestlers entered the ring. Like those images of Greek wrestlers in the first Olympics, they circled each other, nude. Unlike the Greeks, though, their feet plotted noisily in the 'mud' (some artificial glop.) One lunged and the two fell into the pool, sliding around, coating their naked bodies. Their muscles strained, the one on top grabbing the thigh of the one on the floor, lifting him up. That leg wrapped around the other's neck, pulling him down. The two struggled some more, until finally one got the advantage and drove the other man's shoulders back. After a three count, he was declared pinned. It was over.

Towels were provided and the two men cleaned themselves up as best they could. Later, there would be showers. But now, the victor was to claim his prize. The female prize.

Clarice was led out to meet the winner. He approached her and, without any ceremony, thrust his hands under her blouse. Clarice did not bolt for the door, as I thought she might. Rather, she raised her hands in the air. With a pull, the blouse came over her head. His hands circled her chest and pulled the bra upward. Those beautiful breasts of hers, freed from the bra, bounced on her chest. He unhooked the bra and removed it. Clarice was bare to the waist.

He pulled her to him with hands on her buttocks. The zipper on the skirt was lowered and with a yank, the skirt fell to the floor. Only a frilly pair of pink panties remained. He fell to his knees facing her, with his hands on either side of her waist. Hooking fingers into the fabric, he pulled the panties down to her feet. His face pressed against her thin layer of pubic hair, and he kissed her womanhood. Clarice felt a tongue graze her vulva, seeking out the clitoris. Chills swept through her body.

Grabbing her by the back of the knees, with another hand around her back, he carried Clarice's nude body to the massage table. He spilled massage oil onto his hand, and oiled her front to back, dwelling on her groin. If Clarice had wanted to feel anew the thrill of raw sex, she had her wish, in spades. His fingers entered her, filling her, pressing against the clitoris. Pleasure pulsed through her body as the man's big hands possessed her, claimed her. Clarice never considered herself an exhibitionist, but the spectacle of her body being claimed, with a crowd watching, caused an excitement she'd never felt before. A powerful swell rose within her and she shook with the force of sexual release.

The crowd applauded, seeing Clarice's obvious excitement. Clarice half expected the man would climb on her and enter her; but he did not. His work was done. He returned to his woman, and the two of them withdrew to a private place. Surely he would find his satisfaction there.

I, meanwhile, observed the glow on Clarice's face. Would she still want me after this orgy-like experience? Could I possibly match the public lust visited on her, lust that she clearly relished? I approached her a little awkwardly as my penis was now erect. I had been excited by the sight of my woman exposed and used in front of a crowd.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm more than okay. I'll probably never do this again in my life," she said, "but I'll treasure this one wild night."

Her hand grasped my erect penis. "And maybe this wild night isn't over yet."

"Not so fast," I said. "Let's talk about next week. You owe me the CMNF room."

"Oh that," she smiled. "Well, maybe we can do this one more time."