It was on a business trip to Washington, D.C. that I had one of the most exciting experiences that a voyeur/exhibitionist could have. In one of the morning seminars, I made a new friend – we'll call him Jack.
Jack and I were sitting together and, of course, got to talking about ourselves. We discovered that we both had similar army experiences,even both serving at the same base in Texas. Being from the midwest,we mutually bemoaned the sandstorms, grit in our food while in the desert, and, remembering with moronic cackles, Jaurez, Mexico, where we both admitted that we'd had our first sexual experiences with a woman.
Over lunch, we talked more about sex than anything else, and it was quite logical that we were both horny, since our wives were about a thousand miles away, and this was our second day at the meeting. I wondered, aloud, about the possibilities of a bit of sex in D.C. And, of course, you could, but they were pretty expensive and three hundred dollars per cum was more than I wanted to spend. I said so to Jack.
With an aside look at me, he said, "O.K., then. How about going to dinner together tonight at a place I heard of from a friend"
"What kind of place," I asked.
"A restaurant."
I was, of course, dismayed. "Sex at a restaurant?"
"Well, it's a kinda different restaurant. And the only sex you'd be able to have is 'self-service,' and I don't feel like going there alone."
"Oh." I understood the 'self-service' part immediately, but was confused about the restaurant part. "That sounds O.K., but I don't think I understand."
When I did, I was fiercely eager to go, but we'd have to wait until midnight, and that was nearly twelve hours away. I guess I don't have to tell you that the rest of the afternoon and evening progressed at about the same pace that ice melts in January.
After our seminar sessions ended, we agreed to meet in the lobby of our hotel at about 9:45 p.m.
I showered and remaining naked, thinking about what I was going to do that night, watched myself in front of the mirror as I played with my already-hard cock for a while, letting the image of my naked lewdness be burned into my mind for future reference. Finally I stretched out on my bed where I dozed off for an hour or so.
As I dressed, I wondered if I should wear briefs and a undershirt. It didn't take long to realize that they'd only get in the way.
It was a private restaurant, and Jack had to show his friend's card in order for us to enter.
It was a lot more than I expected. There was a very good, live band playing on a fairly large stage; expensive-looking flowers and plants in abundance along the walls and in front of heavily-draped windows. The setting? A large, unpartitioned room with rather small, two-person wrought-iron tables and chairs.
The menu and the dinner were extraordinary! Nevertheless, I wanted them over with so we could get to the real "main course."
I'm not sure what I expected, but was surprised to note that approximately one-third of the diners were women. It was gratifying to note that most of them were quite attractive, and some, even beautiful. The woman closest to me was, indeed, beautiful -- and large-breasted. My heart quickened its pace, knowing what was to come.
I'd been watching the clock anxiously for about forty minutes, when I noticed the band leaving the stage. In a few moments, there was the long, reverberating sound of a gong that I searched for but couldn't find. A man appeared on the stage, saying, "We ask everyone who doesn't want to participate in our party to leave now."
I glanced quickly at the nearest woman, a gorgeous brunet with the nicest breasts in the room, and fervently hoped that she wouldn't get up and leave.
The guy onstage waited for a few moments, but she didn't leave, and neither did anyone else. The man spoke once more, "Then let the party begin." With that, he grabbed at his tuxedo shirt and with a flourish,tore away every bit of clothing he wore, standing there with a hard-on in front of about sixty people.
"Remember, gentlemen, to call for your goblets! And now," he shouted, "Miss Erica Dolan!"
The naked "Miss Erica Dolan," who danced for us, had a body that awed me and made me forget to wonder what he'd meant by "call for your goblets." She was gorgeous! So much so, in fact, that I didn't realize what was going on around me. Jack had to nudge me to remind me that I had to remove my clothing. As I looked about, I realized that I was a lot later than most of the patrons, for hands were already flashing between the legs of both men and women. At the far end of the room, a troop of women, naked as the day they were born, began passing out something and stripping the cloths off of each table. I finally discovered that they were passing out rather large paper napkins. Of course, I knew what they were for. Well, at least I thought I did. I'd thought they were for catching my cum. I was to discover myself wrong. They were simply for cleaning up "afterward."
Jacking off in the midst of a group of people who realized the pleasure of their acts, not only for themselves, but for those about them, was sublime. I soon realized that the wrought-iron tables and chairs were intentional, for they hid almost nothing from the sight of anyone.
