Jia
I’m enveloped by music as I step onto the dance floor of the club.
The Dark Odyssey always has that vibe that lures me to forget. That’s why I’m here tonight.
It’s weird, I know. Nobody goes to a sex club to get lost in the atmosphere and forget reality. I’m sure they certainly don’t go with the goal to forget reality by watching others live out their wild sexual fantasies.
I come here by myself sometimes just to absorb it all. It’s almost like a drug. Because everything about the club is so forbidden and wild it always has that dreamlike feel to me.
Tonight is no different.
I’m wearing a black slip that hugs my curves and a gold mask. I blend in instantly with the majority who are dressed in their finest lingerie and masquerade masks.
That’s what they do here—hold nightly erotic Venetian masquerade parties designed to lead you straight into wild temptation.
The minute I walked onto the dance floor, the group of guys to my left clocked on to me, clearly checking me out and trying to lure me over with their intense stares.
I gave them a smile. That’s all they’ll be getting tonight from me. I’ll stay for as long as I’m guided. Tonight was just a thought that popped into my head, completely unplanned.
It just came to me, and I headed out.
I’ve been coming here since I was eighteen, completely against the club rules which state the minimum age of twenty-one, and I’m always thrown by the people I see having sex out in the open for all to see.
I don’t watch behind my mask to shield me. I discovered several moons ago that I can still watch without the mask. It intrigues me because I could never be that brave.
I stop and sway to the music, watching the couples along the sidelines fucking. In my line of sight is a trio having a ruthless threesome.
Two guys are pounding into a woman on the leather sofa set in the center of their cubicle. One takes her from behind, pounding into her pussy like he wants to consume her, and the other guy assaults her mouth with his cock.
I watch them until the guy in her pussy comes and pulls out of her, then they switch so the guy who had her mouth can have his turn.
Whenever I come here like this, by myself, I try to imagine how the scenarios all played out. Most people actually meet here on the night and end up like what I’m seeing before me. Some people come together as a group of friends, like I did with my friends when they weren’t married. All instances involve hooking up for unimaginable sex.
Staring at the people before me is working. I’m forgetting, and arousal takes the place of confliction in my soul.
I move away from the scene and allow my body to guide me to where I’ll venture to next. I came with the idea to stay for an hour or so. I like watching the attractions, so to speak, like the exhibitionist box and the acrobats on the aerial hoops. I tend to avoid anything sentimental that will bring up memories of me and Paul spending time here.
I’m sure he must have come here many times after me. It was him who introduced me to the place after all, so why wouldn’t he?
It’s hard for me to imagine him with anybody else. I’m still so confused because he still feels like mine.
I glide through the crowd to the center of the dance floor where I can see the exhibitionist box.
Tonight, the couple in there fuck like they want to consume each other.
The man takes the woman from behind, and while she’s pressed up against the glass, she’s definitely fucking him too.
Their movements are in tandem with the next attraction the owners of the club installed a few months ago.
I was actually here with a guy then, and the attraction was so intriguing to watch.
It’s a padded St. Andrew’s cross designed for BDSM with a metal ring around it. It reminds me of the picture of Vitruvian Man. This thing, though, isn’t even comparable; it’s just what comes to my mind when I look at it. The cross is on a device that makes it rotate so you can be taken in any way you wish. Whether that’s standing up or lying down. I heard someone say it felt like flying when it moves.
There’s a woman on it now. Her guy has just finished securing her to the device with the leather cuffs, and he moves her to an angle so she’s nearly lying on her back.
She’s smiling at him and nods. As she does, he presses a button, and her body is showered with red liquid—wax.
They have that massage wax in the sex dungeon for foreplay. This is the showy version of it. I like anything like that. Warm wax being poured over your body makes your nerves tingle and heightens sexual pleasure.