A New Allison

"I'm going to need you to zip me into this thing." She pulled off her soccer jersey, then took off a worn-looking bra underneath, then dropped her track pants and panties all in one go. I suddenly had a nude woman in my apartment, and I checked her out as she carefully stepped into the catsuit. She still had an athlete's body, with a flat washboard stomach and powerful arms and legs. Her tits were perky, maybe a little smaller than average-sized, and she had a thin dark blonde landing strip down below. I was envious of her flat stomach and immediately a little self-conscious of my curves. Would all the girls tonight be as fit as Brianna?

As she pulled the catsuit on and I helped zip her into it, I made a point of looking. "Your friends were right. 'Camel Toe' is a good name for your outfit."

Brianna laughed. "I don't mind showing off a little."

It was my turn, so I somewhat awkwardly pulled my clothes off. I was trying to cover up a little without making it obvious, but when I got my bra off, Brianna let out a low whistle.

"God damn, Allison. Your boobs are incredible."

"Really?" I straightened unconsciously.

She nodded, staring without shame. "I've seen a lot of tits in my day, and... fuck me, those are gorgeous."

"Thanks." Emboldened, I arched my back a little, letting her ogle me a moment before I pulled the bralette on. I then pulled my jeans down. I didn't like shaving down there, but I'd given my pubes a neat trim in the shower that morning.

"Wow," she breathed. "I'm so jealous."

Jealous of my body?

"I wish I had your stomach," I stammered in return.

"A flat stomach anyone can get with hours in the gym, but my tits will never look like yours. They're spectacular." Brianna was openly perving on me now, and I felt flattered as I pulled a pair of black lacy panties up and then put on the skirt.

Once I was dressed, Brianna looked me up and down, nodding her approval. "I love your outfit," she gushed. "You couldn't have picked something better. It's fetishy, it's sexy, it shows off the girls. Nice job."

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"Are you ready to go?"

I looked at my watch. It was nearly time to leave. "I don't know if I'll ever be ready, but yeah, let's go."

We took a selfie together that made me look like my tits were hanging out everywhere, but I ordered myself to brush off my insecurities. We look hot. I sent it to Lauren and Lena, and quickly received back encouraging notes from both of them.

We both put boots on that were comfortable for dancing but still sexy, long coats over our fetish outfits, and went down to the street, hailing a cab for the short ride to the club.

The old theatre was a nondescript, slightly run-down brick building in a neighbourhood near downtown, in a part of the city I'd never been to before. There were no signs out front or anything else to indicate what was going on inside, nor was there a line out front. The bouncers hanging out on the sidewalk and black lights beckoning from inside were the only signs that the theatre wasn't closed.

My heart in my throat, I followed Brianna into the club where we paid our admissions and then stopped off at the coat check to drop our long coats and Brianna's bag of toys off. I was a little self-conscious of wandering around in a bra and short skirt, but no one batted an eyelid at either of us shedding clothing.

Once we were inside the main hall, I took stock of where we were. The theatre was dark, with black lights and strobes and other coloured lighting pulsating to the beat of the electronic dance music. The room we were in was a large, open area half-covered by the overhanging balcony above, and half open to the ceiling, many storeys overhead. The theatre was decorated in an Egyptian motif, and was run-down in a shabby, kind of charming way from what I could see in the low lighting. A bar ran down one side of the room, and a DJ was set up on stage.

Brianna dragged me to the bar where she bought me a drink, then led me to the side where her friends were hanging out. I was introduced to four people whose names I couldn't hear over the din. The girls and guys in the group both set off my gaydar, and Brianna confirmed through the introductions that the two girls were a long-term couple and the two guys were casually seeing each other. I was a little relieved to realize that none of the guys in her group would see me as a target.

As I looked around the room, I felt less self-conscious about what I was wearing. Sure enough, there were people dressed in the most eclectic gear imaginable -- girls in fishnets, shiny plastic, guys in military uniforms, one guy who looked like the baritone in a barbershop quartet, complete with bow tie and straw boater hat. Loads of people were in leather ranging from revealing to gimp costumes with the face obscured, and at least two women were wandering around topless, just as Lauren had predicted. I swallowed hard, then looked up at the balcony where I knew the fetish play would be going on. I couldn't see a thing from where I was, which made me both relieved and even more nervously curious about what was going on out of sight.

And so, the evening progressed. Brianna and her friends seemed completely uninterested in any sort of play: they just danced, and I joined them. Dance clubs I could handle, and the group made me feel welcome and included.

After a while I noticed the club had started to fill up. We'd gotten there relatively early, but by 11:30 PM or so the place was hopping with people. I had to admit, the gyrating bodies in fetish gear were really something to watch. But my overall impression of the club, surprisingly to me, was that it felt safe. The guys in the crowd were all being extremely respectful of my space, and it occurred to me that I wasn't fighting off roaming hands in the crowd or feeling like I had to watch my every move. It was strange, because I'd never noticed how every nightclub I'd ever been to had felt unsafe until I went to one where everyone was behaving. As the night wore on, I grew bolder, dancing my heart out to the club music and enjoying the sights and sounds of beautiful people dancing in sexy clothes.

Finally, Brianna and I took a bathroom break together.

"So, how are you doing?" she asked from the adjacent stall.

"I'm good," I answered honestly. "This is way more comfortable than I expected."

"It's nice, isn't it?" she replied. "These clubs feel so much safer than a normal dance club. I'd never take my clothes off in a space with a bunch of typical men watching me, even if I was into that. But the guys here are fine."

"I get that," I answered. "I was never expecting this to feel so... normal. I hate going to dance clubs, even though I love dancing, because I hate feeling like I have to constantly watch my drink and my clothes and everything else. But I've let my guard down here and it feels really good."

"I'm so glad to hear that you like it. The guys would never grind on you here without asking permission."

"I hate that." I shuddered at unpleasant memories.

"Me too."

We emerged from the stalls, washed our hands, and then I checked myself out in the mirror. I was glistening with sweat, but I thought I looked sexy. My face was glowing, and my breasts really did look spectacular in the bralette I was wearing.

"Are you interested in seeing what's going on upstairs?" Brianna asked as she fixed her makeup in the mirror.

I swallowed. "Yes, but I'm not sure if I'm ready."

"Well, whenever you're ready, it'll be waiting for you." Brianna loosened the zipper to reveal her cleavage.

"Are you going up there?" I asked.

"Soon. I'm getting a little antsy," she smirked as we moved to leave the restroom. "But I won't leave you alone."

"Thanks, but I think I could use a sit down, and I didn't see any chairs in the club, so I think I'm going to take a bit of a breather." I gestured at the lobby, where a couple of comfortable, overstuffed armchairs were sitting unoccupied. "I don't mind if you go on up without me."

"Are you comfortable being here alone?" Brianna asked.

"Sure. It feels safe," I answered. "I can't explain it, but..."

"I get it," Brianna answered happily. "I knew you'd like the atmosphere." She turned to head back into the club. "Since you're comfortable and seem like you're doing fine, I think I'm going to go grab Minh and Tessa and go upstairs. You're welcome to come and join us at any point, even if it's just to watch."

"Thanks. I'll see if I can gather my courage enough."

Brianna turned back to face me, looking me straight in the eye. "Do yourself a favour, Allison. There's no harm in looking. Don't go home wondering what was up there. Take two minutes to look around, and then leave if you don't like it. But don't leave here with regrets."

"That's good advice. I hope I'm brave enough to take it."

"Me too." She kissed me on the cheek and then headed back into the club to find her friends.

I pulled my phone out of my purse and texted Lauren. So far, so good. There was no immediate response, so I put my phone away and sat, luxuriating in the armchair and resting my weary feet.

After a few moments, I saw Brianna and her entourage heading for the stairs. A man I hadn't seen before, but who was clearly part of the group, broke off and came over to me.

"Are you Allison?"

I nodded while checking him out. He was handsome, with close-cropped dark chestnut hair, a few days' worth of stubble, brown eyes, and a relatively slim build. He was wearing an outfit that made him look vaguely like the Punisher, which I thought was incongruous with his friendly demeanour.

"I'm Charles. Brianna told me about you. Is this your first time here?"

I nodded again. "You?"

"Second time," he answered. "I'm friends with Bruce, the one who's dating Martin. I think I was the only one in the group you missed being introduced to. I just got here a few minutes ago -- I had to work late tonight."

I contemplated this new piece of information. Charles wasn't setting off my gaydar at all, but he seemed harmless enough.

We chatted for a good fifteen minutes. Charles was a sound engineer who worked for a recording studio, and he also moonlighted as a session and live musician, playing trumpet and cornet in jazz bands on weekends. He lived locally -- within walking distance, apparently -- and was a few years older than I was. He had an easygoing, laid-back disposition that somehow put me at ease as I chatted with him.

"How are you finding it so far tonight?" he finally asked.

"It's good," I answered. "It's surprisingly comfortable, considering what I expected."

"I remember that from last month," Charles responded. "I was so nervous coming out the first time, but it wasn't bad at all. It's such an open, accepting atmosphere, or at least I've found it to be. I wasn't at all sure I'd be comfortable doing anything kinky in public."

"Did you?"

"No, I chickened out," he confessed. "I wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to let loose."

"I feel you there," I smiled. "The very idea there's an 'upstairs' here is intimidating as hell. Did you at least go see what was up there last time?"

"I did, but it was a dance night, not a sex night," he recalled. "There was a lot of play, but the top balcony was closed off. People were being kinky, but no one was getting it on in public. Tonight is a whole new level of terrifying."

"So, it's new for both of us," I answered. "That somehow makes me feel better, like I'm not the only kink virgin here."

"Nope, 'kink virgin' describes me pretty well too," Charles revealed. "My ex was so vanilla. I always wanted to do something like this, but she never would have been down. That wasn't why we broke up, but I've been determined not to get into a relationship again with someone I'm not compatible with in the bedroom."

"I've got the same story," I said, remembering back to Keith's squeamishness with kink. "Everything you just said applies to me and my ex."

"Cool. You've never done anything like this?"

"God, no," I exclaimed. "I had to come up with a safe word for the first time even, just in case I decided to play with anyone here."

"What's yours?"

"Grand Turk," I said, briefly telling him the story that started with meeting Sean and Lauren in Grand Turk and ended with my being in a fetish club.

"That's a great story," Charles approved. "I went with 'Baker', after Chet Baker. My favourite horn player."

I nodded. "I'll keep that in mind."

"I'm glad I met you," Charles added. "It feels safer being here with someone else who's just as much of a noob as I am."

"Likewise," I decided. "Everyone here is so beautiful and so confident. I feel like an impostor."

"Me too, so let's be impostors together."

"Sounds good." I smiled at him. I decided I liked this guy. I was glad I wasn't the only one there who was so inexperienced.

A short silence descended between us.

"Are you interested in taking a perv walk with me?" Charles finally asked.

I gulped. "What?"

"You know, seeing what people are up to. No one's going to be playing in public who's uncomfortable being watched," Charles explained, echoing what Brianna had told me. "It's fine if you go check out the scene, even if you're not participating. I thought maybe you'd appreciate not having to go alone. I'd have been scared to death last month without Bruce showing me around."

I swallowed hard. I still wasn't sure about this, but the friendly, safe, and consensual environment really made it seem okay, along with the fact there was security everywhere. Charles seemed friendly, and he had clearly been vetted by Brianna's friend group. "Okay," I finally decided. "Let's go perving."

Charles offered his hand to get me out of my chair, and I could feel my heart in my throat as I followed him to the stairwell.

A flight of stairs later, we emerged into what had once been the lower balcony of the theatre. It was a smaller space than I had been expecting, overlooking the dance floor where I could clearly see the DJ on stage still spinning tunes. The space was neither crowded nor empty, with various couples in various stages of kink play. I saw a couple of people lying prone on benches with their partners standing over them, whipping or spanking them. I focused briefly on a woman who looked like a college professor, gradually massaging the back and ass of her partner with a whip, which she occasionally cracked against him.

I noticed another couple across the space playing with rope bondage, which I knew from porn was called shibari. A baby-faced girl who looked Japanese to me was suspended from the ceiling on ropes and appeared to only be wearing a pair of panties. Her face and chest were practically glowing in the soft light, and the look of intense sexual pleasure on her face was unmistakable as her partner slowly and deliberately bound her. I caught myself staring at her tits before instinctively looking away, then I remembered what both Charles and Brianna had said about people getting off on being watched. I looked back up at the girl and caught her eye, and she smirked at me as her partner cinched her tighter into the ropes.

"Are you okay?" Charles asked, drawing me out of my trance.

I nodded. My mind was panicking a little, but the gentle tingling between my legs was a reminder that something inside me liked being here.

"Let me know if you feel uncomfortable or need a breather, and we can go back downstairs," he reassured. "No pressure to do anything or be anywhere you're not okay with."

"I appreciate that," I said, reaching my arm around him and giving him a quick hug.

We stayed on the railing for several minutes, watching the show. I kept locking eyes with the Japanese girl as her partner built an elaborate rope cocoon for her. He kept running the ropes over her erect nipples with each pass, and each time I could see her face contort with obvious pleasure. I slowly got over being self-conscious about watching, as, true to Brianna's word, none of those playing seemed to mind being watched. I started hoping the guy would start fingering her, but to no avail.

I suddenly realized that none of our group were present on the lower balcony.

"Did Bruce say they were going up top?" I asked Charles.

He nodded. "Apparently when it's a sex night, people who have more interest in having sex usually don't bother with the lower balcony. The people down here are more into the play aspect than getting off."

A pregnant pause hung in the air.

"Did you want to... perv on upstairs and have a look?" Charles asked hesitantly.

My anxiety levels started rising again, and I must have looked scared, because he put his arm around me again. "I'm nervous about it too," he reassured me as I hugged him back. "I've never seen anything like what's going on up there. We can be each other's moral support, if you're comfortable."

I decided I didn't want to leave with regrets. "Sure. We can go upstairs."

We headed for the back stairwell, and I could feel my head swimming to the point I thought I might pass out. I was unsteady on my feet with nerves, and I focused on putting one foot in front of the other on the way up, my eyes boring into Charles's butt ahead of me. He has a cute butt, I suddenly noticed.

I held my breath as we turned the corner and emerged onto a small landing. Sure enough, six small cubicles had been set up with curtains subdividing them. Three were empty, two were closed, and one was open, with a small crowd of men gathered around. Charles and I walked up to the open booth and saw Bruce and Martin inside in the 69 position, sucking each other off as they lay on a futon. I swallowed hard and instinctively looked away, noticing that two of the guys watching them were also exposed and jerking off. I'd just more than doubled the number of erect cocks I'd seen in my life in a matter of seconds, and I felt a rush through my lower abdomen as my vagina responded to what I was seeing.

"Hot, don't you think?" I heard a voice beside me, and I turned to face Charles.

I nodded. "Do you think so?"

"Mm-hmm," he answered.

"I'm surprised to hear that. I thought most guys were terrified of each other's dicks."

"I'm probably low-level bisexual," Charles responded. "I've never been with a guy one-on-one, but I've had a MMF threesome and enjoyed it, and it wasn't like Bruce and I were pretending each other wasn't there or anything."

"That's mature of you," I said, impressed. I remembered Keith being squicked out at the idea I'd ever gotten off watching gay porn, even though he watched lesbian porn regularly and never could explain to me why it was different. I turned back to the show the boys were putting on, mentally recording what I was seeing for future use.

Charles shrugged. "We only get one life. Who am I to say it's wrong to want the D?"

I laughed. "I can sympathize. I'm surprised your ex was fine with a threesome, though."

"It wasn't with her," he replied without further elaboration. "Are you okay? Comfortable?"

"Yeah," I answered. "It's not as scary up here as I thought it would be. Let's go check out the balcony."

"You're sure?"

I took him by the hand and led him towards the curtained-off opening.

I'm not sure what I was expecting, but when Charles and I walked out into the balcony, it suddenly hit me full on in the face that I was at a sex club. There was probably fifteen or so people out there, all in various stages of getting it on. It wasn't an orgy in the way I'd imagined, with everyone fucking everyone else, but rather there were multiple groupings of people together having sex or watching each other. There wasn't really a centre of attention to draw in my gaze. I saw several heterosexual couples paired off, having sex or in various stages of foreplay. There was a FFM threesome going on, with two women on their knees taking turns sucking a guy's dick. And there were a few people sitting in chairs around the perimeter of the space, watching, masturbating to the show, or taking breathers.