Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
(Charlotte)
The moment Matt and I split up at the doors, I felt like I’d made a grave mistake. With the exception of the spa, which he had arranged for me, I’d been with him every step of the way. I worried that without him, my libido would be unfettered. I had no idea what I would get up to on my own.
I wandered through the lobby, distracted by the competing muffled rhythms of music in the different areas of the castle. Snickering at the “please, no sex acts on the stairs” sign on its golden stand at the top of the steps, I started down to the theater.
The theater lobby was crowded with fully nude people; my skimpy dress made me feel downright modest. I didn’t think I would ever get use to seeing so much flesh shamelessly displayed, nor the way people casually touched each other; a man used a huge pink dildo on a woman who lay moaning and clutching her breasts right there on one of the benches across from the “concession” stand.
More signs indicated the orgy would include barrier-free sex and reminders about safe word etiquette, with a little traffic light illustration. Yellow indicated a person didn’t care for the act being performed, but red would indicate that a participant wanted to stop entirely. I wondered how long it would take me to utter “red” tonight. Hopefully, I’d remember to stop while I could still crawl back to the house.
I joined the line of people entering the theater floor and noted others already leaving, laughing and toweling off, leaving jellied footprints on the carpet. Two bouncers stood at the doors, informing each patron of the rules as we passed by.
“No clothing past this point,” one of them said to me.
“Oh.” I paused and looked around me, then, seeing no other option, pulled my dress over my head. “Should I…”
Without a word, he took the garment from me. “We’ll send this up to the house.”
“You know who I am?” I asked, but the natural movement of the crowd urged me along, through the doors.
If there was a place they could post a warning about the floor being slippery, that place was covered in big red and black signs warning that the floor would be slippery. Grippy, textured mats lay in aisles between the black tarps stretched over the rest of the floor and led up to the waist-high pool. There was no ladder; staff members helped guests in and out.
A person with a short black pixie cut offered me a hand. Her name tag read “Storm” and supplied her pronouns, but also provided me with a reason to look at her incredible, gravity-defying tits in her otherwise plain black T-shirt. She was short and slender but had no trouble lifting me by my waist and dropping me into the pool.
I squealed at the coldness and weird feeling of being dipped full-body in lube. Somehow, despite knowing what was in the pool, my brain had still expected water, and my nerves rebelled at how squishy everything felt.
Someone waded toward me. A blonde with an hourglass body and pale, heavily tattooed skin. “Hey,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Bree.”
“I’m…” I didn’t have a fake name at the ready. “Anonymous.”
She grinned at that. “Okay, Anonymous. Do you like girls?”
“It depends on the girl.” I shivered. “And the temperature, to be honest. I think I might die in here.”
“It’s a get in, get out kind of thing. But you’re not even covered yet.” And with that, she scooped up two handfuls of the jelly-consistency liquid and smeared it across my breasts. My nipples, already hard from the shock of cold, suddenly ached for her touch.
I quickly glanced around the room. Masses of bodies writhed on the tarps, the lube coating them occasionally refreshed by a bucketful tossed over them by staff members. There wasn’t just moaning, but a lot of laughter. The sex happening around me was unabashedly silly. I wanted in on it.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said to Bree, and we moved toward the staff members, who helped us out with their grippy gloves. The moment my feet hit the floor, they almost slid out from under me.
“It’s easier if you crawl,” Bree said, and I got the feeling she’d been to one of these parties before. I followed her on my hands and knees, getting the most amazing view of her big round ass and a flash of a piercing peeking out from between her labia. We reached one of the rare bare spots on a nearby tarp, and she collapsed into a puddle of lube.
She crooked her finger to beckon me over, and I slid to a stop beside her on the plastic sheet. Our bodies came into full contact, all soft and dripping with slipperiness, and she sighed, arching her back. I couldn’t resist; I ran my hands over her tits, down her waist, over her hips, and back up, my legs parting around her thigh. I rubbed my mound against her and the lack of friction was oddly frustrating and arousing at the same time.