Bisexual Slut in Berlin

I stood at the back of the line to the club, shifting my weight between my right and left leg as I took a slow drag on my cigarette. I was alone - a couple of friends I had made in the hostel who were going to come with me had canceled at the last minute after their flight home got rescheduled. I had almost chickened out, but they talked me into going, reassuring me that it was totally normal to go to clubs in Berlin solo, and insisting that I wouldn't regret it. Besides, after the stress of my final exams, I needed to let loose - this was the final leg of my two month-long backpacking trip across Europe, and the last gasp of carefree student life, before the dull monotony of a 9-to-5 and loan repayments set in.

So here I was, standing in line alone at a Berlin 'sex positive club', eager yet nervous. They had told me about the club's strict door policy of 'no street clothes,' and encouraged me to buy a pair of tight black underwear that only partially covered my ass, a mesh tank-top and a steel choker from a kink shop in Kreuzberg, which I wore under jeans and a track jacket in the cool late-August breeze. I would have never been caught dead in this back home - while I had my fair share of hookups in university, even a couple with other guys over the years, my scene was more 'calculators and textbooks' than 'latex and leather.'

Since I had been in Berlin, however, the city's atmosphere of sexual liberation had worked its way under my skin. I began to feel more comfortable in my skin. Seeing how queerness was celebrated here was making me rethink how I identified myself as well. I knew I was more attracted to women, and had always chalked my couple of sexual encounters with men up to drunken horniness - I hadn't discussed them with my friends, and certainly didn't identify as bisexual. However, over the past week I had begun to question myself more, and had begun to fantasize about expressing my sexuality in a more open way.

The line was long, but it was moving steadily, and there was a quiet buzz building. As I neared the front, I discretely popped the MDMA pill I had tucked into my pocket and washed it down with my final sip of beer. I winced slightly, bracing myself for a nerve-racking nerve wracking interaction with the bouncers, a burly tattooed man and a butch lesbian woman, who called people up one by one to the booth in front of the door.

The man gestured me forward with his finger.

"Kennen Sie die Kleiderordnung?" he asked.

"Sorry, um... Sprache du English?

He sighed. "Are you wearing the sexy clothes?"

I nodded sheepishly and pulled down my jeans slightly, exposing my tight black underwear.

"OK, good," he said, and gestured to the door behind him with his meaty bald head.

As I pushed aside the heavy velvet curtains guarding the entrance, I entered into a narrow, red-lit hallway, and followed it to the coat check. I felt a lump in my stomach as I mentally prepared myself to lose my street clothes, but found comfort in the small crowd around me that was doing the same, uncovering the lace and leather hidden beneath their wool and polyester. I pulled off my jeans and coat, and handed them to the older woman at the booth, who wordlessly handed me a numbered ticket.

I slowly walked toward the pumping bass, still slightly self conscious at how exposed I felt, with my ass hanging out of my underwear, and my nipples, still hard from the cool air outside, poking through my top. As I surveyed the room, however, I began to feel more at ease. Everyone seemed... normal? Sexy, nearly naked, but normal. Friends lounged on leather couches, sipping their drinks with breasts spilling out of corsets and cocks bulging through thongs.

I decided to buy myself a bit of time to get adjusted before hitting the dancefloor, so I joined the bathroom queue snaking out of the door on the left side of the lounge area. While in line, msy eyes drifted downward and focused on two perfect, round ass cheeks in front of me. On them, 'Bisex ual Sl ut' was written, the words bifurcated by a faux leather thong like a team's name on a baseball jersey. I felt a catch in my throat as I gazed longingly at them, imagining what it might feel like to feel that perfect ass pressed against my crotch.

I felt the unmistakable sensation of being watched, and raised my gaze to meet two large, brown eyes, made even larger by sweeps of turquoise eyeshadow, and larger still by wide pupils that seemed to drink me in. Beneath those eyes lay a prominent, yet elegant nose, dusted with glitter which reflected off a steel nose ring, and full, pink lips formed into a cheeky half smile. Shaggy, dark brown hair lay in a quasi-mullet on her head.

"I.... I like the writing" I stuttered, offering a lame explanation for my obviously lewd stare.

"Me too, that's why I put it there," she half-laughed.

Her voice was husky, yet melodic, and cut easily through the pounding bass that was barely muffled by the thin drywall and cheap tile.

I felt the lightness of my impending come-up. I was breathing harder than I needed to, and the walls felt close.

"I'm a bisexual slut too, so I guess we have something in common", I responded.

I surprised myself a bit - normally I wasn't so forward. Maybe the drugs had made their way deeper into my system than I realized.

Her mouth softened into a fuller smile, genuine and charming. I realized I had been tensing my shoulders and relaxed them, standing up straight.

"The beauty of writing it is that everyone knows, so I don't need to tell anyone."

Everything else had disappeared around us. She was standing closer than I remembered, and I could feel the heat of her breath, which fell just below the small chain that encircled my neck.

"Let me help you let everyone know", she said as she gestured for my hand. I followed her eyes to the open bathroom stall in front of us, suddenly realizing we were at the front of the line. Wordlessly, she took my hand in hers, her long slim finger tracing the veins inside my wrist.

Once inside the stall, we pressed our bodies close to close the door, her pierced nipple gently grazing my chest through her sheer bra top, and her flat stomach radiating heat against me. We lingered for a moment, wordlessly savoring the accidental yet inevitable contact. She turned around, lifted one long, pale leg over the toilet seat, and sat on it, looking up to face me. After producing a black sharpie from her tiny leather handbag, she nodded and told me to bend over, which I did without a second thought.

She held onto my right ass cheek for support as she leaned over and began to write on my left. I felt the fabric tip of the marker catch on the fine fuzzy hairs, as she slowly and deliberately completed her work. She moved onto my left, switching her support-hand correspondingly, and I felt the faintest graze over my ass crack as she shifted her palm. With my head below my knees, I felt blood rushing to my brain.

"All done. How does it feel?"

I thought about it for a second. "Perfect."

My head rush was intensifying, and not just from standing up. My skin was gooseflesh, and every rustle of the mesh fabric against my skin sent ripples across my body. As she stood up from the toilet, I felt my body moving toward her as if she had a gravitational pull. As I entered her orbit, she looked up at me as she lightly dragged her nail across my chest, sending tingles across my skin. Her eyes locked mine, her dilated pupils like eclipse moons - I couldn't look away. Her soft lips were half open, breathing heavily, and her small breasts rose and fell in cycle with each breath.

"Do you know what bisexual sluts do?" she asked.

"You tell me", I replied.

"They kiss girls... and.... boys at the club." She punctuated each word with a light scratch of my chest, each one eliciting a soft, moan from my throat.

I returned the gesture, stroking her soft yet toned stomach with my index finger, just inches from the inviting gap between her hips and panties.

"I think I'd like to start with kissing girls tonight", I breathed.

She parted her lips as I lowered my mouth to hers. We savoured the first kiss, tracing circles on each others' skin while dragging our lips across each other. I closed my eyes and let the feeling wash over me as I opened my mouth which she promptly entered with her small, soft tongue. Our tongues swirled over one another as our passion increased, and I found her prominent hips and pulled her close to me. Soon we were savaging each others' mouths, biting lips, hands in hair, moans in our throats, urgent with need, lost in our own universe and held together by druggy lust.

My hands found that perfect ass that had put me under its spell, and I grabbed it greedily, pulling her close as she raked her nails over my back. My rapidly swelling cock pushed lewdly against the front of my underwear, and soon her hips raised to meet mine, grinding her warmth against it. I needed her, I needed every inch of her. My hand caressed her face and ran through her hair. I dropped my other hand to caress her perfect tits, roughly pinching her eraser-sized nipples through her sheer bra, our mouths wide as our tongues swirled each other, fighting for space in each others' mouths.

She pulled back from me slightly, and gave me another one of those smiles, but this time more playful.

"I need to dance", she smirked.

I was extremely turned on, and dancing was far from my mind, but who was I to argue? I was in her world.

"Mind if I pee before we go?" she asked. I could only stare entranced as she bent her knees and dropped her thong to the floor, squatted an inch above the white plastic seat, and loudly sprayed a thick stream of clear pee into the bowl. She never broke eye contact. Somehow, I got even harder.

She wiped, almost daintily, flushed, then shimmied as she pulled her panties up her legs and over her hips.

"Ready."

Out of the bathroom, through the hallway, into the twilight of the lounge, my hand in hers. I felt eyes on me again, but this time, it felt different. People of all genders, colours, shapes, ages in various states of undress with their eyes on my still-hard cock and ass with, effectively, an invitation scrawled across it. I could feel their lust, and it was intoxicating. I eyed them right back, drinking in the soft breasts, muscular chests, open legs, hairy stomachs, asses clad in leather and lace.

Through another hallway, another room, another hallway. A trans woman in stockings and garters licking a man's neck in the corner, her cock bulging through her frilly panties. A smooth-skinned college-aged man dressed only in chaps laying spread-eagle on a couch while a burly leather daddy snorted white powder beside him. Two middle-aged women making out needily, grinding their hips against each other's thighs. Slutty, drugged out freaks everywhere I looked. I was one of them.

Finally, we reached the dancefloor, and I was enveloped in its electric darkness. A pounding techno rhythm rattled my bones. Strobe lights flashed across the floor, animating the room in stop motion - a pulsing mass of sweaty, half naked bodies, and those brown eyes again at its entrance, urging me to join.

I pushed into the collective and was quickly enveloped. I was peaking now, as each pulse of bass and strobe set off another wave of euphoria. I felt her push her push back against me, and soon we fell into a rhythmic grinding dance, her hips in perfect synchronicity with the music. I closed my eyes and watched supernovas exploding in my mind. I couldn't tell where she ended and I began, and whose touch was hers or another's. I lost track of time, my vision was like a slideshow, flashes of coloured light, then darkness, then skin, then leather, all senses blurred together into one. My movements were completely thoughtless as the music dictated my actions. Lost in the music, I let it wash over me as I swung my hips back and forth, feeling the bass rattle my chest.

After a time (5 minutes? An hour? ) I began to regain sense of my body, and realized she had gone. Still dancing, I opened my eyes and took in my surroundings. I was in the middle of the dancefloor, about 20 feet from the DJ. All around me were people moving wordlessly to the music, entranced, surrendering themselves the beat.

Scanning the crowd, I spotted her - about ten feet away grinding up against a thicker woman in leather, heels and fishnets. She shook her asscheeks as her new dance partner gave them a playful smack, then pulled her in close by her waist. Oddly, I didn't feel even a twinge of jealousy or rejection - I felt happy for her, at peace with the fact that my new friend was enjoying herself.

As I continued observing the room, I briefly locked eyes with a man behind me in the crowd. He was well built, with a broad chest and with a faint ripple of abs poking through his toned stomach. He had dark features, with deep brown eyes, heavy brows, and two days of black stubble on his rugged, olive skinned face. His outfit was simple: a black speedo, which showed off his powerful legs and toned stomach. I broke my gaze and kept dancing, but it was as if an electric current ran between us - I could feel him looking at me. I chanced a glance back, and our eyes met again. He glanced down at my ass, perusing its message, then met my eyes again and winked.

Oh god. Fuck. OK. I could feel my cock swelling again, and my breathing grew shallow. I turned my head and kept dancing, both nervous and excited at the prospect of living up to the title granted to me in sharpie in the bathroom. Suddenly, I felt a hand touch my waist, hot breath in my ear, and heard a voice with a hard-to-place accent growl "dance with me."

I obeyed, and soon I was feeling his firm chest, damp with sweat, pressed up against my back. I worked my hips against him, letting his smell, his heat, his masculinity take over me. He pulled me close to him possessively, and I was so fucking ready to be possessed. I swung my hips back and forth, working my butt against his cock, trapping it between my cheeks then releasing it. It was hard, hot, and big - definitely bigger than mine.

"Mmmmm.... Ohhhmmmm." Submissive little noises coming from my throat - had I ever made those before?

"You like it, don't you", he breathed into my ear.

"Mhhmm" was all I could answer.

Still grinding against me, he ran his large hands over my chest and stomach, then up onto my neck, grasping at my throat. I was burning up, my nipples poking through my mesh top, cock threatening to burst through the crotch of my underwear, needily pressing my cheeks against his swollen member. He ran his finger across my lips and, as if on instinct, my tongue darted out to lick it. He groaned in appreciation, sending flutters through my stomach. Encouraged, and desperate to please him, I sucked on it, slowly at first, then greedily, running my tongue around his digits. Then, holding my shoulders, he turned me to face him and pulled me in for a deep, insistent kiss. His tongue invaded my mouth as he grabbed my ass, and I could feel his stubble scratching my face. I surrendered to him, letting his strong arms hold me up as I melted into his body, each touch of our tongues sending sparks through my brain.

"Come with me", he growled into my ear, and that was all it took. Through the crowd, out the hallway, into a darker corner of the lounge room. He sat down on a leather backless sofa, and I dropped to all fours in front of him, proudly displaying the message scrawled across my rear to anyone who might walk through the door. I knew what he needed, what I needed.

I pulled his speedo down to reveal a gorgeous, perfect cock. Long, thick, and dark, extending from a patch of dark, well trimmed hair, with a slightly lighter head that flared out beautifully from a smooth shaft. I gave a long, slow lick up the shaft, never breaking eye contact, and swirled my wet tongue around the head. He placed a hand on my head, encouraging me as I took half his length into my mouth.

"Yeah baby, suck daddy's cock", he growled.

His husky, accented voice sent shivers down my spine. I worked my lips up and down him, inhaling sharply as I plunged back down, taking slightly more of him each time. I savoured his taste, musky and intoxicating. Eventually, I felt his head press against my throat, and I gagged slightly, but his guiding hand held me in place.

"Be a good boy and take the whole thing."

Desperate to please him, I relaxed my throat, pushed, and felt his head pop past the tight ring guarding my throat with an audible gluck. I held for a second, then pulled off of him, drool spiderwebbing from his head to my chin, I looked up at him like a schoolboy taking a good report card home.

"Did you like that, Daddy?" I asked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed we had a small audience now. There were two older men standing about ten feet away, slowly stroking themselves while staring intently, as well as a young woman in a latex bodysuit reclined on a sofa in the adjacent corner, glancing over with mild interest. And in the center of the room, in a leather high-backed chair, there she was again, her eyes fixed on me. Her slender finger rubbed gentle circles over her panties, and her bra was partially pulled down, exposing her small, perky breast.

Eager to put on a good show, I stretched my mouth wide as he pushed my head back down, and began sliding his cock more forcefully into me, fucking my mouth and assaulting my throat. I let go of all control, letting him use me for his pleasure. My mind went blank and drooled rolled down my chin. I began to moan wantonly, drunk on dick. He fucked my mouth relentlessly, holding my head by my hair while he pumped his meat past my lips and into my throat. I could feel his orgasm nearing, and I hummed in encouragement, sending vibrations down his shaft.

"You want this cum, don't you slut?" he asked, knowing I couldn't answer with my mouth full of him.

He pulled my head off of his cock and I sat back on my knees, eagerly awaiting my reward as I stared up at his long, thick cock, which was angry red, twitching, and glistening with spit and pre-cum.

"I wanna taste your cum" I moaned, and stretched out my tongue wide, as if to prove it to him (and to our audience). He stroked his cock forcefully, his palms gliding easily over the slippery skin of his shaft. Suddenly, with a loud groan, he erupted, shooting a thick, creamy rope of cum across my face, landing a few delicious droplets on my outstretched tongue. I moved closer, eager to catch more of his precious sperm, and he shot two more loads directly into my open mouth. He laid his cock head on my tongue as more cum oozed out of him, and I held my mouth open wide, letting it pool there. Finally, once I was satisfied he was finished, I stretched out my tongue to show him, then swallowed the entire load in a single gulp. Shivers ran down my spine as I felt his thick, slippery, salty load slide down my throat.

"Good boy" he whispered, then leaned forward to give me a surprisingly tender kiss, then laid back on the couch in satisfaction

My attention now turned my own needs. With slightly wobbly legs, I stood up and turned my attention to my mulleted observer. Her now-soaking thong was pushed down around her ankles as she lay leaned back in her chair, wantonly rubbing her swollen, red clit, her face flushed with desire. Wordlessly, I dropped my underwear, and my now rock hard cock sprung up to greet her. Leaning over the chair, I pulled her face to mine for a deep kiss which she returned eagerly while tenderly stroking my cock.

Wasting no time, I guided her into a doggystyle position on the chair, draping her torso over one arm. She arched her back eagerly, presenting her sopping wet pussy to me. At the sight of her obvious submission, my previously dormant dominant side came back with a vengeance. I placed my cock head at her entrance then pushed into her, my full length gliding easily into her warm, dripping tunnel. I twitched as I felt her flex around my cock as I held my length inside her. Then holding her hips, I began to pump my full length into her, matching the rhythm of the dull bassy thuds that emanated from the dancefloor down the hall.