A Different Kind of Party

I could hear hushed whispers behind me as I slid my wet cunt up and down the shaft of the vibrating fucking machine between my thighs. I looked into his eyes, but his rigid cock in my mouth prevented me from saying anything about the onlookers in the open doorway. Never in my life would I have imagined I would be here, exposed to the curious gaze of strangers and so greedy for my next orgasm that I didn’t care at all.

**

My heart fluttered violently as we approached the Edwardian vicarage in South London, the secret location of the private party we’d been invited to attend. He was decked out in a tailored grey suit and smokey blue wingtips, a dramatic change from his usual jeans and well-loved Vans. He looked so damn sexy, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off of him the whole way there. I was wearing exactly what he’d requested, a simple black dress and thigh high stockings held up by a simple garter belt. I could feel the cool night air brush against my bare lips as I walked up the hill towards the estate. It wasn’t unusual for me to not wear panties, but this night was going to be far from the norm for both of us.

An older gentleman greeted us at the door wearing a classic black suit and crisp white shirt. He gave us a tour of the home, introducing us to guests as we went along. The men all wore suits. The women, however, wore nothing. I thought it would be strange to attend a party where half the guests were nude and half were smartly and fully dressed. I thought it would be awkward, and my hands shook slightly as I undressed in the changing room upstairs. I gazed at myself in the mirror. My long hair fell down over my shoulders and kissed my pierced nipples with it’s shaggy tips. My cunt was perfectly waxed and framed nicely by the thigh high stockings and hold ups. I felt good about my body and didn’t feel the shyness I expected from being naked around strangers. I felt confident. So, I strode downstairs to meet my handsome man and see what he had planned for the evening.

**

His rope tightened around my breasts, squeezing my nipples between its coils. My breasts contorted beneath its grip, but my hands were tied behind me, so there was no way I could free them from their prison. My legs were spread, the rope tightly cutting into the flesh of my thigh pulled me open for the others to see. His hand brushed against my cunt, teasing. One couple watched shamelessly as he bound me. Another couple grunted and moaned, she was on her knees between his legs, his cock in her hungry mouth. I was on display on the floor of the living room, the crystal chandelier winked at me as it twinkled. We were much the same, objects to be admired and my cunt leaked at the thought.

**

He led me into the dungeon. We were alone in the dark, quiet room, but I could hear other guests laughing from the kitchen as they ate finger foods and sipped champagne. He propped me up on the spanking bench and secured me tightly with cuffs and rope. I was, once again, at his mercy, bound and displayed, ready for his pleasure. I slipped away as he began to spank my upturned cheeks with his hand, but I could hear them still, whispering as they watched us play. He molded me like a piece of wood, shaping me with his instruments, and I became pliable under his touch. The others didn’t matter any longer. They were no longer there. It was just his hands and my skin, a craftsman and his medium. I screamed when he wanted me to, I moaned or gasped or grunted, and as a reward, he let me come. My thighs trembled as the pleasure washed over me, and my head became light when he finally lifted me up. He smiled at me and laughed at what he’d made, a well-loved rag doll with a goofy smile plastered on her face. It was time for some sweets and more champagne.

**

The staircase in the vicarage was gorgeous, spiraling upwards with a large oval window at the midway landing. It was the perfect place for a sexy photo, but we weren’t allowed to take photos. I was momentarily disappointed, but as he ushered me into the private room upstairs, the fucking machine on the floor in front of me immediately distracted me. I’d never seen one before, and now I was about to sit on one, feel it fill me up and stretch me out. He closed the door behind him and for the first time that night, we were alone. It was quiet in the bedroom and I stretched out on the large bed, looking at the strange furnishings. Nothing belonged here. The walls, the windows, the lights, they were all of a different era, old and creaking, they had a history. But the furniture was all new, all chosen for one purpose. Sex.

He covered the phallus jutting from the top of the fucking machine with a condom and instructed me to impale myself on it. I did, eagerly, sitting on it like an obedient puppy. He played with the remote, turning the dials to cause more vibration or more thrusting inside me, smiling as I sighed and squealed with each subtle change. When he found the right combination, when I was grunting with sheer pleasure, he walked to the door and quietly opened it. Then he pulled out his cock and shoved it in my open mouth, my eyes widened. I rode the machine and sucked his cock like a needy slut. I wanted to be seen, and I wanted to be heard. They came to the door and watched, commenting on our performance in quiet tones, as if we were art in a museum to be admired and discussed. I came so hard I struggled not to clench down on his cock with my teeth. The combination of the thrusting and vibrating, the cock in my mouth, his hand on the back of my head tangling my carefully combed hair, the strangers watching me fuck this sex robot, it all sent me to a new level of pleasure and I screamed as he filled my mouth with hot come.

**

I sipped champagne and ate sweets in the kitchen, my reddened ass and dampened vulva exposed for all to see. They’d gotten a show, but I didn’t feel vulnerable or shamed. I felt strong and sexy. I smiled at one suited man’s joke and talked with another woman about the different sights to catch in London, her large breasts draped in ropes of gemstones caught my gaze. It was just like any other party. Well, almost.