When in Rome II

Now, in the spirit of full disclosure, I didn’t completely strip. I was wearing just the cutest little matching bra and panty set, so I mostly ignored the (very ugly) towels supplied and strutted around in that.

So, Kimberley, Topaz, The Victim and I crawled up onto a bed close to the entrance and looked around in curiosity. Dimly lit, many beds, water, condoms, discreet security walking through, and couples fucking. It was amazing. I was genuinely impressed with how…professional and kind of classy it was.

And Skippy. Oh Skippy. Stroking mine and Topaz’s legs and taking it like a champ when we made it clear that neither of us had any intention of fucking him tonight. (Although Topaz implied that I should give him a mercy fuck. No thank you.)

And then I saw him. This dark chiseled specimen wandering around just kind of watching everyone. The girls (and The Victim) all told me that I should go “talk” to him – but I was temporarily intimidated by the prospect. Kimberley was increasinly engaged with The Victim and eventually Topaz and I decided to head back out. Kimberley handed me her shoes and her bra for the road and off we went, leaving Skippy behind (I kid you not) high fiving the fucking couples for a job well done.

I mentioned to her on the way out that we should have made out just to mess with him and she said that she would have been up for it. This was good to know.

Security stopped us as we were dressing to ask about Skippy. It seems that men should be attached to someone in order to be back there. Apparently voyeurism isn’t permitted? (Which even now makes me wonder what Chiseled Specimen was doing back there, as he appeared alone). We declared that Skippy was certainly not with us, and gave him leave to do whatever he wanted with him (although secretly hoping that he wouldn’t kick him out, since that would mean he would come find us).

Another drink later and Topaz was catigating me for my slut fail moment. Not any worse than I was castigating myself of course. With a shot of liquid courage, and the threat of last call looming we decided to head back to at least proposition Chiseled Specimen so the night wouldn’t be a total waste (for me anyways).

So back we went, undressed again and met Chiseled Specimen in the hallway. I admit, up close he wasn’t quite the specimen that he had seemed from a distance, but I plunged ahead anyhow. I said something inane and he invited the two of to the back. Topaz trailing along in support, knowing I wasn’t quite up for going it on my own. I confess, to me he seemed a lot more interested in her than in my charms, and who could blame him, but he certainly didn’t seem turned off by my attentions nonetheless.

Topaz, however is much more perceptive to men’s signals than I, and clearly noticed that he was much more interested in watching than participating. Before I knew it, she was straddling me and had her luscious tongue in my mouth. And my darling readers, that was the highlight of the night for me. Topaz. Her lips, her tongue, her breasts and her body. They changed all my perceptions on being with a woman.

At that point I couldn’t have cared less about Chiseled Specimen. She could have gone on kissing me all night. I craved more and more as the moments passed. I could see Kimberley watching us, and the Specimen was rapt. I touched her breasts and could feel myself heating up and my breathing increase…

Skippy showed up. Commentating. High Fiving.


Both of us started laughing and that was it. We tried to resume, but really? The moment was gone.

It was the end of the night anyhow.

We all headed out, got dressed and met up in the ladies room to debrief. It was a bizarre, hilarious, fun and profound evening. One that re-programmed some of my own proclivities and fantasies. For that, I have Topaz to thank. And Kimberley for her sense of wild liberation – if she hadn’t been so carefree and open to the experience, my life would not have been so affected.

I can’t wait to go back.


First off, some administrative business: Have you entered my vibrator contest yet? Don’t forget that it closes at midnight on Friday!!

I love men. The hardness of their bodies. Their ability to overpower me simply with their size. The roughness of their hands. The fact that they aren’t delicate or fragile.

But occasionally? I’ve encountered women who have sparked something in me. A curiosity. A willingness to try something different. A primal sensuality that makes me want to reach out and touch them. To explore them and be explored.

It’s only occurred once or maybe twice in my life. But when it has happened, it’s been powerful and completely unexpected.

Her name was Juliette and I only met her once. We really didn’t even speak that much – but there was something about her. The thoughts that I found running through my head about her were shockingly unprecedented. To this day I’ve never even kissed a woman.

Juliette was lovely. Dark hair, big eyes and sensuous curves. She was clever and funny, and soft and kind of dreamy. I don’t even have a clear picture of her in my head anymore- just a warm memory of how she made me feel.

I wonder what would have happened if we had ever found ourselves alone together? Would she have been open to the idea? I even longed to tell her what she was doing to me. Had we known each other even slightly, I probably would have.

For the first time I found myself staring at another woman’s lips wondering what they tasted like. How would it feel to have her tongue on my mouth. Would it be any different. I imagined it would be softer, more gentle. But why? I know that my own carnal urges can get the best of me – and gentle is not typically what I look for.

And her breasts…they were perfect. Ample and perky and tempting. I do find men’s nipples to often be disappointing. To suck on a woman’s breasts…to bite her nipples the way I like mine to be…I could imagine that first experience lasting for hours.

I know that she was straight. She had dated someone that I vaguely knew. How would that affect the experience? Would we be able to overcome the shyness? The hesitation? Or would our curiosity and openness make us all the more willing to experiment? Nothing off-limits because it was all so new and forbidden for both of us? Testing the waters to their limits to find out what we liked and what was the most arousing?

I wasn’t shy about exploring my own body. I knew very well what turned me on and how the female anatomy worked. Women are so much more…complicated than men in so many ways. So much more cerebral when it comes to sex. So much more challenging to stimulate.

I found myself wondering what her buttons were. Would she allow me the leisure to suckle her breasts? To kiss and caress her? To simply lie together in a state of partial undress- exploring?

How long would it take before our reluctance and hesitation melted away in a wave of desire? Had she ever experimented, I wonder? I has friends who at least had made out with girlfriends in their wild university years. I had never had that opportunity arise, but I found myself increasingly un-opposed to the concept.

To lie together and just touch was nothing short of an intoxicating dream. To feel the soft wetness of her tongue on my earlobe, my neck, my collarbone. Her hands caressing my breasts, running her nails down my ribs; tickling my thighs. My breath catches in my throat just thinking about it.

How shocking would it be to feel her breasts pressed up against mine? Her nipples running down my stomach – her tongue licking my inner thigh, moving slowly upwards.

I could picture running my fingers through her hair – luxuriating in the silky softness. What would be it be like to feel that hair all over me? On my stomach, my legs, my back…

Certainly like nothing I had ever experienced with any of the men in my life…

Who would be the aggressor when we found that we wanted to go further? How erotic would it be to undress another woman completely? To pull her panties down over her hips, and feel her nails brush against me as she returned the favour…I can imagine the entire scene as through a haze – in a delicate mist of surreal delirium.

I could envision us naked. Entwined together. Passionately kissing and rubbing our bodies against each other – taking our time getting accustomed to the feel. So similar, yet completely unexplored. The same softness, and the same need and arousal.

But there my imagination stops. I’ve never been with a woman, nor have I ever really tried to envision what it would be like. As much as she affected me, I still find it impossible to carry on with the fantasy.

Perhaps I need the actual physical contact to continue? Or perhaps it was simply a one-time anomaly? A passing illusion of heat – when in reality my desires actually run elsewhere. Perhaps I’ll never know for sure.