Los Angeles is a VERY strange place to grow up and live into adulthood, to say the least. It's such a transient town for the exact reasons you'd likely expect. People usually end up here after growing up somewhere else, because they're interested in pursuing an acting career, or a singing career, or a modeling career, or they want to write for the movies. This entire corner of the world seems, at least to outsiders anyway, entirely devoted to the performing industry. Well, I did indeed grow up here, but you can rest assured I am none of those things. I just happen to be a born and raised Angeleno (yes, that's really what we're called).
I'm Mark, by the way. And though I'm not an actor or a singer or anything like that, I do believe I lead an incredibly awesome life. The gods smiled upon me at birth in a bunch of different respects, if I'm being totally honest. I'm tall (6'3"), well built, still have my hair, early 30s, nice smile (so I'm told), decent sense of style in terms of my dress, and I'm pretty ardent about taking care of my overall self (this is a reference to both hygiene and regular gym visits). I also have a nice condo, I own a pretty decent car, supportive family, great friends, no health concerns, and a job I love. I'm a school teacher. I know, I know. I've heard all the jokes, but really, I do love my job. I went to UCLA as an English Major under the full fledged belief I was going to write the next great American novel and put my heroes, Salinger, Hemmingway, and Fitzgerald to shame. Clearly that didn't happen, but now I get to inspire the next generation of writers at the local high school, and despite what you've probably heard, we make ok money. Especially if you're single and don't have kids of your own. All in all, I'm a carefree guy very happy in his life.
I suppose that's why, at some point, I turned Andi's head. Andi works in our district office as a Human Resources Manager, and though our professional lives very rarely cross, we did of course meet originally at work. Well, more like the district bowling league. She really sucks at bowling, and I'm...maybe slightly better, but we both really enjoy the Wednesday night break in the work week. We have fun, and that's all that matters; lots of laughing, maybe a couple drinks as well. As the story goes, there was some flirting (when she made it clear she was done with a previous relationship), eventually she came over to my place for "one more drink", one thing led to another, and the next thing you know she attacked me on my own couch. Like I said, I lead an awesome life. You see Andi is strikingly attractive. Everybody in our school and district would readily agree she is easily the most attractive person in a 10 mile radius, male or female. She just exudes a very natural charm and classic beauty. She's a couple years younger than me, 5'10, whip smart, hilariously funny, thick brown hair, big brown eyes, a beaming smile, legs for days, and a body that is very well toned and maintained (she runs and regularly visits a different gym). Suffice it to say she's a catch.
Andi and I have been dating for more than a year now, but mostly on the down low. We both doubt our relationship would raise any red flags or concerns on the work front, but at this point, we'd rather not deal with the stigma that comes with a "workplace romance"; the teasing, the questions, etc. I'd bet a fair percentage of our colleagues have their suspicions, especially since we socialize with a lot of the same people, but we keep it pretty private. We don't live together. In fact, she lives with family members due to some unfortunate health problems with one of her parents. She stays at my place quite a bit though. I live closer to work anyway, but as a rule of thumb, we don't go to the closest movie theater, the closest restaurants, don't post pictures of us together on social media platforms, etc.
About 7 months ago, things took a bit of a turn for us, though not a dramatic one initially. The subject of her long term ex came up in conversation, and she confessed that they had once visited a sex club. I was intrigued to say the least. Of course I wanted all the scintillating details, and Andi indulged me completely, though none of them were at all surprising. You see, though Andi is very assertive and driven in her professional world, she's entirely submissive in the bedroom. So she and her ex went to a sex club once because she had the fantasy of being fucked by him in front of strangers. They talked it over and eventually made the fantasy come to fruition vis a vis the sex club outing. Seemed my girlfriend had an exhibitionist streak I was not previously aware of. I probed deeper (no pun intended). I wanted to know how turned on she was before, during, and after the event, what were the people like, what was the space like, what did it do for their relationship, did she ever want to go back, etc. Succinctly, I had a LOT of questions. She laughed and eventually got around to answering every single one of them while I tried (in vain) to hide my throbbing erection. When she was finally done telling her story, we both smiled at each other lasciviously, and without a word, she crawled off the couch onto her knees, unbuckled my pants, took my cock into her mouth, and proceeded to give me an incredible blowjob.
We laid in my bed that night after a ferocious bout of fucking ourselves, and I broached the subject yet again, but this time I told her I had a confession. I too had been to a sex club, and like her, with my ex and only once. Andi guffawed and chastised me for holding out on her. She wanted my details now. I lived in New York City for a few years after college (remember that writing dream of mine?), and my previous girlfriend had a similar fantasy to Andi's. Because I too am an exhibitionist and thought the idea of fucking in front of a room full of strangers was insanely hot, I found a club on the internet, and off she and I went. I told Andi though it was not nearly as exciting as her story. That club in Brooklyn that night was pretty disappointing on the whole. Dark, dingy, not inviting at all, the crowd was too weird, too creepy, not attractive, just the wrong overall vibe we'd originally hoped for, so we never went back. I told Andi that we did, however, get to fuck in front of strangers, but because of that lack of comfort for both my ex and I, the experience just wasn't as hot as we'd hoped. Oh well. Live and learn and no regrets.
Naturally, the sex club subject came up more and more between Andi and I as the following days and weeks went by. I, more often than not, would ask her about it while I was sliding my cock in and out of her at night, or while she was sucking me, or when coming up for breath whilst eating her pussy. She was always happy to oblige. She had loved being watched by all those people. It made her feel extra sexy, and made her cum incredibly hard.
This pillow talk eventually evolved. We were relaxing on the couch finishing up some wine after dinner one night.
"Did you ever want to do...you know...more than just be watched at that sex club?" I asked her.
She pondered the question for a long while "Not then. No. I don't think so. I loved the way it played out for he and I. It was so hot."
"Not then...?" I pressed.
"Well...I guess...I do fantasize about the whole experience sometimes when I'm playing with my toys or using my vibrator. And then that night will have some varying key differences."
"Details, please." as I began to kiss her neck.
"Mmmmm. Ok, so...sometimes I imagine that the people who watched us...I imagine they were all wearing masks...like that movie Eyes Wide Shut. Have you seen it? It's so hot." she asked.
I came up from her neck just barely long enough to respond before resuming my slow, sensual assault "I have, and agreed."
"So sometimes I imagine all those people..sort of...lightly touching me, or rubbing me, as my ex is taking me. Maybe they softly brush their hands along my face, or my rib cage, or my tits, or my feet while he's throttling me. I like the idea...I guess I like the idea of their softness mixed with his aggression." she moaned as I lightly ran my fingers along her jawline.
"Are the masked people who are running their hands all over you male or female?" I asked.
"Both. All types of people." more moaning from her as my hand had now crept its way down to her thigh. "Older, younger, short, tall, fat, skinny. Just...just their hands...all over me."
I began unbuttoning her work slacks. "You get off on the idea of a bunch of people touching you while you're getting fucked? While a cock is relentlessly driving in and out of you in front of strangers?"
