Darkness came early that night - a storm came in at 5pm with the usual ferocity of a mid-April storm, pounding the trees with wind and sheets of rain every 30 seconds preventing me from seeing farther than 20 meters in front of the car. We were far enough out in the rich suburbs north of Chicago that there were few streetlights and only the occasional lights at the gates of the mansions lining the road. I glanced over at my wife Sara, looking calm but cold. She was tightly wrapped in her purple wool peacoat. Sara has milk-chocolate skin, pouty lips, and piercing eyes. Her skin is the smoothest skin of anyone I know. She is plump, with a belly, enormous pendulous breasts (34I to be exact), a flat butt and strong legs. She wore her hair natural and close-cropped, only about one inch of hair.
"Are you nervous?" I asked.
"No," she replied. "If they like us, we get in. If not, we don't. I just hope I have the energy to last the evening."
"Ha! I'm with you on that. Although I think it is a lot harder for a man to last the full length of an orgy than it is for a woman." I was quite nervous about that. We were about to be the guests of honor at an orgy in a secret club that would at the end of the night evaluate and vote on whether we would be allowed to join. I'm 45 years old, certainly not a young man. Over the course of the evening I should be able to have two orgasms but I would probably be soft for an hour in between. If I were a little younger or less experienced I might have been nervous about other things but we had enough experience as swingers that I had let go of my insecurities. My cock is decidedly average, just under 6" in length with average girth (and not circumcised). But we had played with couples where the man had a bigger cock and I was just as able to drive the women wild (often with my tongue). The rest of me was also fairly average: 5'9" tall, medium build with only the tiniest love handles, light freckled skin with ruddy cheeks, brown hair that has turned half silver and a short-cropped beard that is now silver sprinkled with red.
We arrived at the entrance to the driveway at our destination. The gates were open. I slowly drove in and parked just past the walkway to the front door in the circular driveway. We both donned our parkas and ran out to the covered front porch and rang the doorbell. The door opened and our hosts greeted us and took our jackets and we removed our shoes. They were a couple in their early 60s. He was of average height, thin but muscled, with a deep tan complexion and a completely bald head. She was almost as tall as he with light tan skin, straight silver hair reaching down to her shoulders; she was built like him--they were probably both runners. They were both wearing long white robes and matching slippers. They introduced themselves as Greg and Linda and explained that they were the founders of this secret club and this was their house.
After some pleasantries they took our coats and brought us into the library. I, of course, was wearing a tuxedo, as has been specified by the invitation to the party. Sara was wearing an emerald green thin cotton wrap dress. You could clearly see the outlines of her areolas and nipples through the fabric. I had cut off most of the fabric at the bottom so that it ended just one inch below her buttocks, inviting the viewer to imagine what was just above. Once they had us sit down on an old leather couch the dress left nothing to the imagination and Sara's vulva was on full display. They removed their robes. Greg was wearing an impeccably tailored tuxedo. Linda wore a transparent silver ballgown that matched her hair and revealed her saggy B-cup breasts, bare pudenda, and long inner labia (almost two inches long).
Greg then started to explain everything about how the club works. "The rules are simple: Do not talk about the club to anyone. Members must not engage in any sexual activity outside of the group--members like avoiding having to use condoms. Consent is paramount and you are always free to reject anyone's advances. Once you have been a member for over a year you may invite others to join after having gotten to know them a bit and getting approval of the group. Once you are accepted into the club you are free to leave at any time. However, if you leave you are not allowed to come back. Do those rules seem reasonable?" We nodded and Linda began to talk.
"As for tonight, with you being prospective members, things are a bit different. This is an orgy but it is also a test. It is a test of your relationship and understanding of your partner and of your sexual abilities. You have the absolute right at any time to refuse any sexual act or stop any sexual act involving yourself. Do be aware that this may decrease your odds of being accepted into the group. But no means no to us and that is very important. Your safe word is "kale." We want to push your boundaries and see how much you truly can enjoy. But we also want to see you properly defend your hard boundaries if you reach them. This is also a test of your relationship so if you know your spouse absolutely dislikes some sexual act you can volunteer to take their place for that act."
Sara and I glanced at each other briefly before Linda took her by the hand and led her out. "I'll go over this with Sara and Greg will go over it with you," she said.
Greg then handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. There were three questions on it:
1. What will Sara not do that you will do in her place?
2. What are you not willing to do that Sara will do in your place?
3. What does Sara really enjoy?
I picked up the pen and started writing. Sara doesn't like cum on her face, anal sex, any sort of degrading talk, or giving cunnilingus. I can deal with all of that. The second question was easier - there isn't anything I dislike that Sara doesn't also dislike - so I left that blank. The third question was also easy: she loves intercourse. She loves it doggy style or missionary or any other position where she doesn't have to do a lot of work and she can just enjoy getting pounded. She also loves vibrator stimulation on her clit and having her nipples sucked. She is the consummate pillow princess. I wrote all that down and handed it to Greg. He read it over and smiled mischievously as he said, "I think you'll have a good time tonight."
After this Greg took me back through the foyer and into the ballroom. The room was full without feeling crowded, with about 20 couples, men all dressed in tuxedos like me and the women in revealing dresses. Greg pointed out the small tables with hors d'oeuvres and encouraged me to eat a bit but not too much. The room was quite warm; too large fireplaces were filled with flames caressing crackling wood.
"Now," he said, "you have a chance to get to meet everyone and mingle for about an hour before the fun begins." He introduced me to a couple and then we began talking. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Sara enter the room and she was engulfed by another group of couples. I guess this way we would be prevented from talking about what he had each written on the questionnaire to preserve any surprises.
I could describe in detail all the interesting conversations I had over the next hour but that is not why you are reading this. Suffice it to say, I had some great conversations on topics intellectual and not, sexy and normal. By the end of the hour, I had met everyone else there and got to know a few fairly well. Let me describe a couple of the women I met that most attracted me (and there were no unattractive women there). First was Olivia, a 40-year old Nigerian woman with skin so black it was almost blue. She had a round face, broad nose, cherubic cheeks and an eight-inch Afro. Her thick lips called out to be kissed and sucked. She was only five feet tall, had a bit of a tummy but massive breasts (32H if I had to guess) with the areolas fully one-third the size of her breasts. Her ass was high and round. As her white dress was translucent I could also see the massive bush between her legs. She was a chemist and was incredibly well-traveled. Another woman that left me awestruck was Celine, a very pregnant 33-year-old. She had a complexion like mine with lots of freckles and ruddy cheeks. Her thin, long nose and high cheekbones and long face gave her a haughty look; she could not be called traditionally beautiful but her face fit her personality. She was an economist and a runner and she was only a week away from her due date. Her C-cup breasts looked full and ripe and I just wanted to suck on them.
