Paris Oregon Pt 01

Part One, The Setup

This lightly fictionalized account fictionalized account is based on a recent evening I spent in Portland, Oregon. While names have been changed and events reorganized there is nothing described below that did not happen that evening.

*

I'd been dating Fiona for several weeks - long enough that we were feeling comfortable with each other, but not so long so as to become jaded in our discovery of each other's bodies. Obligatory descriptions: I'm plain enough - no need to go into that here - but Fiona is an amazing beauty. She's in her late 30's, with her lovely red hair cut into a 70's style shag. She's quite trim, with small breasts topped by lovely, large, dark nipples. Oh yes, her red hair is shaved below, so she's pretty damn near perfect-looking in my book.

While Fiona had revealed herself to be pretty adventurous in bed, she was always a bit slow getting started. Once I'd warmed her up with a few quick orgasms by diddling her clit, or lapping her lower lips with my tongue for a half hour or so, she completely opened up (so to speak), and was ready for anything. In fact, the warmed up Fiona was the hottest woman I'd ever been with.

One night after a tremendous round of fucking, we lay in a sweaty afterglow, and we started to discuss our fantasies. Nothing too unusual going on here, but Fiona said one thing that struck an immediate chord with me - "I'd always wondered what it would be like to have other people see me cum". Impressed, I tried to draw out this fantasy, as I reached over and started stroking her glistening pussy, rubbing my spent cum over her clit and pulling gently on her warm, moist inner lips. With my other hand, I cupped her left breast, my forefinger and thumb grabbing one of those delicious nips and stretching it to its max.

"Do you want others to see these hot little titties?" I asked.

"God, no, I couldn't imagine such a thing!"

The sloshing sound from her dripping hole was getting louder. "Do you want others to see my hand in this tight, warm and wet Irish pussy?"

"Even less! What I'm imagining is more simple. I just want to have someone watch you make me cum. I want them to see my face go limp as I give in to your attentions. I want them to see me blush with desire, clench my legs, and sag into release."

Hmmm. That was something worth thinking about. How to make it happen? Personally, I was glad she didn't want anyone else to see me actually fuck her. I'm too self-conscious, and I'd imagine I'd go soft immediately. But she was so damn sexy when she came. I could barely contain myself thinking about watching her face as she came while simultaneously watching someone else's face as he saw her. I wanted to see the look of envy and lust. I wanted to imagine (or actually see?) him wanking while he watched us. I wanted to think about him shooting a huge load shortly after she got off. Hell, he'd probably jerk off to the memory of Fiona for weeks or months to come.

A few days after this conversation, I read something on the internet that piqued my interest. Apparently the state constitution of Oregon was ruled to protect sexual expression, and adventurous couples had started experimenting with playing in public at various adult theaters. There was one in particular that seemed to attract sizable crowds while providing a safe place for the women. I 'inadvertently' left the web page describing this theater on my screen one day, and Fiona apparently took the bait and read it. That night, in bed, as she casually stroked my shaft after yet another wild bout, the said "I saw that web page you left on your screen for me to read".

"Oh yeah?" Now I was getting cold feet, and a bit embarrassed this ploy was so easily seen through. But, would she go for it? "Sounded like it might be what you were looking for".

"I have to admit that it does, but now I'm afraid of actually fulfilling this fantasy. Sometime fantasies are best left that way, you know?"

I had to think fast. I didn't want to lose this opportunity. "Well how about stopping by some weekday afternoon - it's free for couples, so there's no risk - and you could get a feel for the place. There won't be many people there then". Much to my surprise, she agreed.

And so there we were, barely a week later, entering the Paris Theater. This was mid-day at mid-week, and she told me that nothing was going to happen, she was just intrigued at what such a place would look like. She wore a non-descript pair of jeans and a loose sweatshirt, covered by an outer coat. No one who didn't know what a hellcat she could be in the sack would take even the slightest glance at her.

When we arrived, we explained to the guy at the door that we were really only checking the place out to see if we'd be comfortable coming back to play. "Happens all the time", he said, "Let me give you the tour".

He led us into the darkened theater. "See this door - it's couples only. Well, it supposed to be, but I have to admit that you will see single men use it".

As we entered the theater, I realized it was like no movie house I'd ever been too. For one thing, the back few rows were surrounded by a red gauzy curtain. "The couples section" he explained. "This area is reserved for couples play. You have privacy on 3 sides. The front, well..." He trailed off. In this area were a number of long leatherette couches and numerous pillows. And a bowl full of condoms. Off to the right was a table that looked almost like a massage table. "That table is for when a couple wants direct contact with the other customers. In the couples section, no one will enter, but you will be watched." He smiled. "Watched rather intently".

An odd structure on the side caught our eye. That, he explained, was the new 'bedroom'. We entered, and sure enough, it was set up like a tiny hotel bedroom. Except the surrounding walls were only about 4 feet high. One side adjoined a balcony of sorts, with a Plexiglas wall between the bedroom and the balcony. And then I saw on the side wall of this ersatz bedroom, there was a glory hole. Wow! What more could a guy ask for?

There were no other patrons in the theater - it was mid-afternoon - and the desk guy suggested we just hang out in the couples section to get comfy. Some second-tier porn was playing on the big screen, and Fiona and I settled into one of the leatherette couches. "What do you think?" I said. "Could this be the place to act out your dream?" She purred softly, and I reached under her sweatshirt to cup her bra-covered breast. Kind of felt like a good day in high school, actually.

Before she could answer, a youngish fellow entered the theater and sat in the row immediately in front of the couples area. Fiona froze, and clung to my arm. Actually, she grabbed it and tried to pull it from her tit. I resisted, and she relented. Within a few moments, the young man turned to look at us, discreetly at first.

"I think we have a customer" I whispered to Fiona. I began massaging the breast, kneading it, still over the bra.

"Don't!" She hissed. "He'll see us!"

"Ah, that's the idea, right?"

"You said we wouldn't do anything today, and I'm dressed like a pig".

Despite my protests, she let me continue to massage her breast under the bulky sweatshirt. The young guy turned completely around to face us again briefly. He then looked forward, stretched his body flat, and unzipped to reveal a rather large and rather hard cock. He settled back to his seat, stroking with one hand, he continued to look back every minute or so.

"God, I can't do this!" Fiona exclaimed, pushing my hand out the sweatshirt and off her chest as she gathered up her stuff to leave.

As we hustled out the door, I whispered to the young man "Come here on Saturday, we'll probably be back".

.....

Back home, her 'anger' quickly melted. In fact, I think it was a show so we could get home and get fucking. Fiona was on fire, practically ripping my pants off as soon as we got through the door. I was rock hard, and the wetness of her pussy meant that no foreplay was required. I took her on the living room floor, pounding aggressively while I whispered into her ear.

"He was hard for YOU, you saw that didn't you? He thought I'd take your tit out to show him. He was hoping I would. He was thinking maybe I'd get your pants off, and he'd be able to see your pussy. Maybe I'd spread it apart so he could look inside. Maybe we'd invite him to join us. He was hot, hot, hot watching you and you didn't have to show him a thing. The tease and the idea was enough. He practically came when I grinned at him as I massaged your breast. I'm sure he jerked himself off as soon as we left. He's probably jerking off again now just thinking about it. I told him to come on Saturday to see you again."

All I heard from Fiona was a collection of gasps, moans and sighs. Her body stiffened as she came violently against me. I came hard as well - I can't recall when I'd ever been hornier - and filled her with many big spurts. As I pulled out, I watched my cum trickle from her pussy down towards her asshole. If I was younger, I'd have been hard again from the sight, but now all I could do know was dream and think about Saturday.

"Just imagine if he was able to watch you cum" I said. "Imagine there were 10 of them there, all stroking their cocks looking at you. Let go back on Saturday evening, when there will be more of audience. You don't have show them anything,"

"We'll definitely go back, and I definitely won't show them anything" she sighed.

To be continued...

Next - Saturday night at the Paris.