Joanie Goes to Odessa's NY Wedding

I was lost in thought. Philip's wife and his mistress had both refused to do for Philip what I did on only our second weekend together. This said something about my sexual nature, and me as a woman, and it was not good. I had to do some serious self-examination, that was clear. Why am I so strange? I was on the precipice of entering a deep funk.

Mary Ann came to the rescue. She said, "Let's all get dressed. I know a nightclub downtown that's open late. Their cocktails might not be as good as a Sunset in the City, but I think they're good.

There were six of us, so we took two cabs. The mood began to brighten with the change of scenery. I was still reeling from Joshua's story about Philip and his wife. I was reconciling it with what I knew about Philip. I was still on the brink of a funk. I do know that my sister Sarah shares to some extent my proclivities towards wild behavior (to put it mildly. Perhaps my Mom was even more sexually extreme when she was our age. I have some evidence to that effect. Perhaps I could hide behind genetics?

I had been blinded by my love for him, but I now realized that he is truly an awful person. Of course, I already knew that from what he done to me in Paris and especially Zurich where he roped in my sister for sexual subjugation as well as me. Putting this together with Joshua's story, I had independent confirmation of a man capable of deeds beyond belief.

His wife Ursula did not come out smelling like a rose, either. And my first love Mike is a bottom dweller, that's for sure. My judgment in men is perfect: Perfectly bad.

I felt bad for Joshua. But I also felt close to him for having the courage to tell that story to all of us. Mostly I felt sick to my stomach for having been so naïve and having allowed myself to be so cruelly used, and even, at times, enjoying being cruelly used. That's the part that upset me the most.

Memories change with time. The brain filters out the bad parts and keeps the good parts. The memory of pain fades, but not so much those of pleasure. At least that's how it is with me. I liked that so many men desired me. I knew it was not really I, it was just lust and a need to subjugate and abuse women, and it was horrible, but damn it, it turned me on. I could not help it; it just did.

I never wanted to do anything like that again, but now that I have, a tiny part of me is glad that I did. I experienced something most women are happy never to have to experience.

But I have done it, I know about it now, and there are aspects of it that arouse me. I am aroused now as I remember some details, such as being tied to the bed, arms and legs spread and immobilized, and facing nine men in Paris who wanted to ravish me. Five of them got to do it, too, before I escaped.

I loved the look of lust in their eyes for me. They were hard for me. They wanted me. It's awful, and embarrassing, but I like that. For me, that look in their eyes before they took me is more important than the sex itself. I wonder if that's true for other girls? I have no idea how to ask such a question, so probably I'll never know.

I rationalized the shame of letting myself be used, by thinking about all the sexual facts I had learned about myself. I already knew from Mike that I am an exhibitionist and a slut if I drink, but I learned from Philip that I like a dominating man, rough sex, and can even handle a gangbang or two. I can tolerate bondage. I'm pretty sure sadism and masochism are out! Boy is that a low standard for a girl.

Most girls go through life never knowing what their reactions would be, for example, to a gangbang. There is no reason on earth why a girl should have to know that. Most-almost all-girls go through life innocent of all these perversions, and whether or not they would like them. That's probably not such a bad way to spend and to enjoy one's life.

Speaking of enjoyment, I enjoyed dancing with Joshua at the nightclub, and we all had more to drink. I was getting very drunk, and so were Sarah and Mary Ann.

At one point, Mary Ann came over to me and asked, "Is it hot in here?" I said yes, and she said, "Here, let me help you, Joanie," and she removed my top. I was now only in a bra above the waist. I stood up and removed her top in revenge. She just giggled, and I began to giggle, too.

We teamed up and went over to Sarah, giggling. Sarah looked at us with surprise in her eyes, and I somehow managed to giggle out, "We were hot." Then Mary Ann removed Sarah's top, too. Sarah simply smiled. What a sister I have! We began to compare bras.

I said, "We need an independent judge." They both agreed. We could not agree on who it should be, since we all wanted our own guy. Sarah suggested the bartender. So we all went over to him, and stood side-by-side facing the bar. We were still all giggling.

Sarah said, "Hey, barkeep. Please settle a dispute. Who has the best bra?" She shook her boobs. Not to be outdone Mary Ann and I shook our boobs, too.

"Sorry girls. I only judge boobs, not clothes. Come back when you're topless," The bartender said, neatly avoiding the possibility of offending the two of us he did not pick. I'm sure he expected that to close the issue.

We went away disappointed, but caucused together. I'm not sure who suggested it, but it was not I. We returned to the bar. Sarah said, "Okay Mr. Barkeep, you can judge our boobs." She said, "On three, girls: One, two, three." We all removed our bras at once. Then we all three wiggled our boobs. They wiggled a lot more this time, no longer being constrained by our bras.

It is not easy to render a bartender speechless. They have seen everything. But he was flummoxed, and just stood there. Finally he recovered, and said, "Ladies, these are three of the best sets of boobs I have ever seen. I could not possibly choose one. Maybe I should take you all three home with me and I can do a detailed study."

He was joking of course, but I was ready to go! Mary Ann said however, "Sorry barkeep, we have dates," and she pointed to the three men who were standing together a distance away but watching us, and they were clearly amused.

The bartender was enjoying this, and I think, relieved we were there with dates. He then said, "How about you all three stand up on the bar, and we'll let everyone at the club vote on your boobs?"

I don't know if he was serious or not. I suspect not. But we caucused and decided to do it. I was the most reluctant, which should tell you something about the moods of Sarah and Mary Ann just then. Also, I was without panties.

I knew there was no contest: Mary Ann's boobs were perfection itself.

That would be remarkable, if it were not that her whole body, from her hair to her face, to her cheekbones, her shoulder blades, her soft and feminine skin, her flat tummy, her adorable belly button and her long and shapely legs were not only the equal of her breasts, but perhaps even better. I know from my logic class at college that one cannot improve upon perfection, so Mary Ann's breasts had to be the best in the world.

Sarah climbed onto the bar first. Quite a few people noticed this gorgeous young thing topless on the bar. I climbed up next, saving Mary Ann and the best for last. The bartender helped me up, and as he did his hand "accidentally" found my cunt under my short skirt (I had no panties on). He quickly stuck a finger in it, too. I ignored it, I was that drunk.

When I realized what he had done, I started to look down at him, but got dizzy from the booze, so instead looked straight ahead, out at the dancing crowd. His hand stroked my leg as it left my cunt. He also helped Mary Ann to climb up and he managed to get a handful of her right boob. She ignored it, too.

When our dates saw what was happening, they migrated over to the bar to get a bird's eye view in reverse, looking up underneath our skirts.

The bartender killed the music in mid song (a good one, too) to make the announcement, that he requests the crowd to choose who has the best boobs of the three women standing on the bar. This will settle a dispute. He added, "The stakes are high, ladies and gentlemen. The winner will get free drinks for an hour."

A cheer went up from the crowd, and when it died down the bartender said, "Can I have a volunteer to distribute the ballots?" a woman jumped up to volunteer, and he gave her a pile of blank index cars and a box of pens. "Okay," he said, "Take it away girls."

Cell phones were flashing throughout the room.

Sarah went first. "I'm Sarah, everyone." Then she wiggled her boobs. There was a big cheer for Sarah. I went next and followed her lead, and Mary Ann was last. The woman volunteer collected the cards, and the bartender went over them, making piles.

The bartender said, "Well everyone, it was a close contest, but Mary Ann wins by a nipple!"

Everyone laughed, and Mary Ann got off the bar, followed by Sarah. I was too drunk to get off the bar safely. I was already flashing a bunch of men who could look up my short skirt and see my bare cunt, just by standing on the bar. I would have flashed even more men if I had tried to kneel down on the bar to get off it.

The bartender helped me, but at one point I fell into him, with my bare boobs pressed against his chest. My inadvertent flashing due to not wearing panties had already aroused me. My cunt was wet with my juices.

The barkeep had arranged things I think so that I fell on his hands, which "inadvertently" pushed my skirt up around my waist, giving him quite a show, as well as anyone else who could see behind the bar. I was basically naked except the line around my waist the skirt made, and of course my high heeled shoes.

I could get away with it, I figured, since I was drunk as shit.

He moved his hand and he fingered me for a minute or so. I was now seriously turned on, but I managed to ignore it again, to push my skirt back down, and then I idiotically apologized for falling on him and even more idiotically thanked him for his help. He gave me his best cocktail, on the house.

He sniffed his fingers, made a soft sound that could have been a yum, and he said, "How about a little kiss, sweet pea?"

I said, "No, I only give big kisses, hunky barkeep," and I put my arms around his neck and kissed him gently. He kissed back, and opened his mouth. I opened mine, and he pressed an erection against me. After a couple of minutes I broke the kiss, and said, "Wow, thanks," and gave the outline of his hard cock in his pants a little stroke, and winked at him.

Then I walked over to Joshua and rejoined the group. When finally we all left the bar, we three girls were still topless, and we hailed three cabs that way. By the way girls: It's really easy in NY to find cabs if you hail them topless. Joshua and I went to my hotel, and I put my blouse on in the cab, leaving my bra in my purse. I could not enter my hotel topless. There are limits.

I thought it was nice of Joshua to see me back to my hotel, and I said goodnight to him in the cab, and thanked him for a lovely evening. He got out too however, and he paid off the cab. He said he'd walk me to my door. I knew where this was going.

At my room door I said goodnight again, and kissed him. He's not Philip so he did not undress me while we kissed. When the kiss ended he said, "You know, Joanie, when we were playing truth or dare earlier, you said..."

I said "Shh," and put my finger to my lips making the shush gesture. Then I opened the room door, pulled him in after me, and kissed him again, this time really meaning it. I turned on all the lights and brought him to the window. I said, "Undress me. Do it slowly."

Joshua said, "But everyone across the street will see us."

I said, "If they don't like it, they don't have to look."

He said, "Okay, that makes sense. And he undressed me slowly. He kissed my shoulders once they were bare. My bra was still in my purse, so they became bare right away. He turned me around and slobbered on my boobs, sucking on my nipples. They he unzipped my mini skirt, and slipped it off and immediately began to finger me. I leaned in to kiss him while he fingered me.

I pulled away and quickly rendered him naked. He pushed me down to the floor, spread my legs and proceeded to eat me out. It felt wonderful. He knew what he was doing. Probably Ursula taught him, during her wild period. Anyway, he was good. I relaxed and enjoyed it. Yum, I thought.

He stopped when I was on the verge of cumming. I had felt it building in my loins. But I knew why he had stopped, and I was right: He reared up and plunged his cock deep inside me. I was so primed for this! He did the same moves he had done earlier before we went to the nightclub, and once again I loved them all.

It took a while, but I finally came with a noisy orgasm. Yes, I screamed, and possibly the nearby rooms heard it, too. I hope they did. I know men love it when they get you to scream when you orgasm, but that's not why I did it. It just popped out of me. This man was good in bed! Or more correctly, he was good on the rug in front of the window.

He fucked me a long time, and after he blew his load we moved to the bed. I opened the curtains intended to give the bed privacy, so that it had none. We had one more fuck before we fell asleep; I rode him cowgirl style, just to please the voyeurs, if there were any. Afterwards I was exhausted.

He spent the night, and he fucked me in the morning. He stood me up against the window, all naked with my boobs flattened by the window panes, and took me standing up, from behind. He had to get me to stand on a small stool he had found in the bathroom, since I am so short, so that his cock had an easy entrance. I enjoyed the sex, and especially being so brazenly and deliberately on display.

I'll never know if any voyeurs got to see it, but there were so many windows that could see me in the skyscraper across the street, I'm fairly sure somebody did. That thought helped me quickly reach a climax, and yes, I screamed again. I think I needed it, as sort of a post wedding cleansing, strange as that may seem.

I showered after the morning fuck and when I was shampooing my hair he entered the shower. My eyes were closed as a precaution from getting soap in them, and I became aware of his presence only when he began to soap up my boobs.

He made sure my private area was well washed. One could even say very well washed. I opened my eyes, smiled, and took some shampoo from my hair and massaged his cock with the shampoo. It had been soft, exhausted no doubt from all the sex, but boy in my soapy hands did it quickly spring back to life!

He put me on all fours, right there in the shower with the water coming down, and he took me from behind. We had a super soapy fuck. I liked the feel of the falling water on my back while we did the deed. We knees hurt a little at the end.

Neither of us came, so we rinsed off the soap, especially the shampoo in my hair, dried ourselves quickly, and returned to the bed, and fucked until checkout time. I came twice during that fuck! I had to blow dry my hair before we could leave. I am a girl, you know. My cunt was truly sore at this point, and his penis looked red and raw.

"How can I see you again?" he asked, as he stood next to me after I had checked out in the lobby. "I don't want to ask Philip for your coordinates!"

"I'm sorry Joshua, but I will not date bankers." I said, with a mixture of sadness, anger, and disgust in my voice. "I know we just fucked each other senseless, and I loved every minute of it. You're good in bed. I like you a lot in the 24 hours I've known you, and during the five times we fucked during these past 24 hours. But you're a banker.

"After Philip, Paris and Zurich -- hell, you have even seen some of it because the Swiss bankers made a widely distributed porno starring me, and without my consent—these are just an entire group of people I never want to see again. And that's your world, the world you work in and live in.

"I'm sorry about this, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Joshua was smart enough not to argue that he was not at all like that, that Philip's group of bankers was different, and stuff like that. It may even be true, but I was having none of it, and he realized that.

Probably though, he was in fact one of them. After all, the initial reason he was drawn to me was that he became infatuated with his imagination of me after watching the Swiss porno of me getting gangbanged, doing a strip tease, and fucking for an audience. That is not the ideal way to attract a man. Nor is it a good beginning for a relationship.

I wanted to ask him if the real flesh and blood me was better than the fantasy version, or just different. I hoped I was not disappointing! Did I fuck him as well as he had fantasized? I certainly did it enough times with him!

Or was it enough just to be able to fuck his fantasy girl? And to fuck her repeatedly. even standing up in the window. Reality can never match fantasy. But it does come with more powerful orgasms; at least it does in my case.

He looked sad, but I knew he would get over it. As Mike once said, bankers always find a solution. That's what they do. He nodded, and then we kissed one final time. The doorman opened the door of my taxi, and it sped off to La Guardia airport. I had quite a weekend, to say the least, and I survived it. I felt my life was finally beginning.