Take the Private Tour

tagGroup SexTake the Private Tour

When a surprise guest makes an appearance at a ladies only party, Amber is rattled. But will this unanticipated meeting nudge her closer to what she desires?
This is the third chapter of the Party at the cul-de-sac series.
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"Hello," I replied to Celi, who was standing in front of me in the foyer, taunting me with her luscious curves in that body hugging dress.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Amber."
"Same." But for different reasons. Based on our previous chance meeting, Celi seemed less "bicurious" and more "biexperienced" than the rest of us questioning ladies at the party that evening.
We stood silently staring at one another. I could feel Celi's eyes attempting to peel the ruffles off my blouse.
The host of this clandestine affair walked from the hall through the cluster of guests to welcome the newcomer inside her stately house. "You're just in time for the tour." She placed one palm on Celi's back, the other on mine. "This way, please."
The score of us left the open concept living/dining area and followed the host through the ground floor, peeking into a handful of bedroom suites, plus the den, the game room, and the library. In each room, the host had arranged a buffet of packaged toys, lube, and other erotic accessories.
"What's the catch?" Celi asked.
"There is none."
"All of this comes with no cost? We just show up and then what? You film us? Who's watching?" Celi scanned the room for visible lenses.
"Feel free to investigate every inch of this place, but there are no cameras mounted inside. That reminds me." The host held up her phone. "This is a safe space for enthusiastic consent. Only yes means yes. That goes for your devices, too. Ask the other people in your group before you take a souvenir. But you probably won't need one."
"Why not?" Barb asked.
The host stuck her phone back in her pocket. "If you ladies are good, we can make this a regular gathering."
"Same time next month?" Emily chirped.
The host nodded.
"Like a book club!" I told Barb, who chuckled, recalling our introductory conversation.
The host opened the door to the final room.
Celi gasped. "That is huge."
In the center of the suite, a family size bed reigned supreme. The host plopped on top of it, causing her natural cleavage to bounce in her suit jacket. "Almost the size of two king mattresses."
Emily looked at the crowd. "Think we could all fit?"
The host waved us over.
We took off our shoes and piled on, over twenty MILFs wriggling for space on a soft yet firm platform.
"Everyone on?" Kimrie called from the center of the jumble.
"Yes!" We exclaimed, dozens of limbs intertwined.
"Oh yes." A moan escaped Taylor's lips. I glanced in her direction. Emily was sitting behind Taylor, her arms wrapped around Taylor's hips, her fingers buried inside Taylor's unzipped shorts.
Taylor maneuvered out of her bottoms to give Emily unfettered access. "Deeper," Taylor growled, her clit swelling.
Emboldened, Kimrie slid out of her peach dress. "Let's get this party started."

While half of the guests remained in pre-orgy mode on the oversized bed, the rest of us split up into pairs and trios and continued our conversations with most of our clothes on.
Soon I found myself alone in the atrium, wondering which path to take. A light went on in the den. I noticed the host pacing alone in there, so I decided to join her.
"I'm more nervous than I expected," she said as I walked into the intimate enclave.
"Nervous?" I sat in the wing chair closest to her. "You seem completely in control, like a saner Willy Wonka, inviting us to unshackle our imaginations in your world of wonder."
"I do have chocolate for dessert on the kitchen counter."
"What's your story?"
The host pulled the other wing chair next to mine. She relaxed for the first time that night. "My work story: philanthropy. Made a bunch of money honestly, now donating much of it directly to other women who aren't as lucky as I was. My life story: I married a man I adore, and our children are grown, building their futures elsewhere. And I remain curious, yet scared if my family discovered I was attracted to women, too."
I held out my hand. She squeezed it.
"I hear you," I told her, "and I see you."
"Thank you, Amber."
At that moment, Taylor bounded into the doorway, wearing only her string of pearls and the silver hoops adorning her full brown nipples.
"Pardon the interruption." Taylor placed a request for more towels.
"My work is never done." The host released our grasp. "We will continue this conversation."
"We will," I affirmed.
She exited with Taylor.
I wandered past the living room, where two pairs of women were rounding second base on the sofas, tops and bottoms strewn across the plush rug, digits spelunking in sticky grottos. I entered the kitchen and observed Celi plucking a bottle of pomegranate juice from the refrigerator.
"Would you like one?" she offered.
"Yes, please."
Yet again, we stood staring at each other, waiting to see what would happen next.
She broke first. "I thought you were married."
"So are most of the people here."
"To men?"
"Yeah. Same gender as your boyfriend."
Celi frowned. "You remember after your class at the pole fitness studio?"
As if I could forget. "Refresh my memory?"
She smirked. "When you caught me masturbating in the bathroom, and then you joined in?"
"Yes, I recall that incident."
"That's not a common occurrence for me. So far it has been a singular one."
"But you seemed so skilled at…" Working her wet pussy? Encouraging me to rub myself? Cumming so quietly that none of the clients outside the door could hear our self-gratification?
"Amber?"
"Celi."
"What would you like to do most right now?"
"Suck on your tits." Who said that?!
She drew the spaghetti straps of her dress down her arms and let the top pool around her navel. As I had suspected, she wasn't wearing a bra.
"Suck on my tits, Amber. Please."

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