Photo by philippe leroyer bdsm
Photo by philippe leroyer

Elle’s eyes widened as the tiny brunette danced around the golden pole and the crowd clapped along.

The tiny brunette…well, she was usually brunette and currently pseudonymed as Carla Clitoris…was one of the receptionists at the club.  At the moment, she wore a Foxy Cleopatra style wig and nothing more than a gold sparkly thong and pasties.

Greg and Elle were new to this place, and it was different.  This club was an older Victoria-style mansion with a pool.  Nudity anywhere and, unlike other places they had been, anytime.

The lounge and bar area, where everyone was partaking of Carla Clitoris’ burlesque talents at the moment, was on the ground floor along with the pool and jacuzzi areas.  The second floor was lockers and a BDSM play area with crosses, cages, coffins and even saw horses.  The third floor was the general play area with mattresses covered in rubber and a different theme in each room…including one that was made out to be the back of a shag-van.  All of the walls tended to be white and hardwood floors were everywhere.  It was the type of house that creaked when one walked up the stairs.

Later, when Greg wrote about this, he would conveniently forget about the coughing fit he had by the pool due to all of the smoking.  It was great to sit outside under the stairs naked…but not when the other ten couples around were all puffing on cancer sticks.

As the burlesque show continued, Greg did wonder how it would feel to have the tiny brunette pushed up against that pole with her legs wrapped around him while his cock went in to mine for orgasms.  She was much too tiny for him and he was concerned of breaking her…plus the corniness of “mining for orgasms” caught him, so he decided not to write about that later.

As the dance ended and applause subsided, the group dispersed off to find more cool climes.

Greg and Elle, however, found the hot tub.

…and the hot tub offered bubbles in thanks.

At first, the two just sat and enjoyed the bubbles in the warm water…then, as she was prone to do, Elle found Greg’s cock and quickly had it hard so she could slide on to it while the bubbles continued on.  Before long their pace had splashes of the warm liquid lapping up at a few of the other grinning patrons that shared the tub with them.

Well…this is how Greg would later write about it.

In reality, they were lucky to stay awake.  There were a few other patrons that did join them in the tub, but in the big rulebook of sex clubs it had stated no sex in the pool or hot tub.  It also said in big bold letters, “No Glass!”…so good thing the club served beer in plastic cups.

They did dry off, shower and play a little upstairs, but they soon found themselves yawning.  Unlike the previous clubs that Greg and Elle had been to, this was a different style of patron…much more high maintenance…more about being seen and showing off than pleasuring each other.  This group seemed to get more enjoyment from feeding their egos than libidos.

They quickly cleaned up, dressed and slipped out of the club to walk home in the post-midnight club-busy streets…until Greg found that shadowy place to pull Elle in, bend her over and lift her skirt…

Well…that was how he would write about it.

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