Salimeh

This was the second time this week she had approached that green door. On the first, a few nights earlier, fear had broken her resolve and she had fled, full of self loathing at her own cowardice.

Now as she walked down the barely lit, quiet tree lined street a second time, she felt the familiar churning in her stomach and the sudden quickening of her heart.

What if someone saw her turning into the house... but of course not. She lived on the other side of town.

What if she met someone she knew inside... but that was so unlikely in a city of two and a half million people.

But what if she went inside and wanted to flee immediately... but what if she went inside and wanted to stay, and it was this last prospect that took her breath away.

She had learned of this place from her favorite gay friend one evening when they were drinking late. He had told her about his adventures and his encounters on the night before he boarded a plane and flew out of her life forever.

As he told her these stories he never suspected the impact they had on her, first curiosity, then arousal and at last a crushing compulsion to finally confront the demons that accompanied her every waking moment when such urges were hard upon her.

The door was an impressively large, dark oak and with a sliding panel that allowed those within to survey the street and just as importantly to watch the visitors when each finally surrendered and made their own personal journey across the threshold.

By now her heart was pounding beneath her pretty brown dress and as she approached the door it took all the will power she possessed simply to put one front ahead of the other.

She drew a deep breath, knocked far too tentatively, and immediately felt a wave of rising panic and regret.

Nothing.

She stood, transfixed. Confused. Relieved. Here at last was her path back to normality and to the day to day certainty of her regular, mundane, inoffensive little life.

She turned to leave and took a step away.

And then a voice called her back.

The prettiest, friendliest little voice she ever heard called after her, "Hey, don't go."

Oh. My. God.

She breathed hard, and then hard again, closed her eyes. Clenched her teeth. Finally she turned and saw the friendly face of a young woman probably her own age filling the gap the slide in the door had revealed.

"I'm Charlotte. I saw you the other day."

Salimeh looked confused, then Charlotte pointed to the CCTV camera perched inconspicuously to the left of the door.

"It's ok," said Charlotte. "It's scary the first time. Some people come five or six times before they have the courage to knock. Some people never get that far."

She smiled again and Salimeh melted, her panic receded a little but her pulse now raced even harder than before because the door was opening.

Charlotte stood there, a little to the side and welcomed her in with the wave of her hand. She was wearing a white cotton dress with big yellow polka dots that ended just above her knees, and simple pair of heels.

This was not what Salimeh had imagined at all.

She expected fishnets and rubber, instead her personal Charon was a pretty young woman who might have sat beside her in Psychology tutorials attracting the wishful glances of proper young men.

She took one final gulp of her fear, swallowed her denial and stepped across a boundary.

Inside the scene was more like a dinner party before the meal had been served and as the guests casually enjoyed their aperitifs.

Charlotte sat her down on a small sofa near the bench, took care of formalities and explained the house rules. And of course took her money. $150, drinks included.

Salimeh's hands shook a little as she reached into her purse and she felt something akin to love when Charlotte tenderly reached over and placed her owns hands on hers.

She lent in close. "Shhh its ok."

She smiled and Salimeh felt herself relax though her eyes dropped a little from shyness.

"Would you like a band?"

Salimeh looked at her in surprise and Charlotte read her confusion.

"Blue is straight, Red is bi, and rainbow is gay, obviously."

"What is the green one for?" asked Salimeh finding her voice although it was little more than a whisper.

Charlotte smiled as she patted her hand. "Maybe next time. Green is anything goes."

Salimeh 's expression must have betrayed her anxiety. "Oh the panic in your eyes!" Charlotte laughed and a few heads turned in their direction. Then without even a hint of warning she lent in and kissed her on the lips. Not passionately, more like a friendly encouragement"

To Salimeh though her lips were a revelation. Soft in a way a man's would never be and she tasted so lovely. As Charlotte looked into her eyes Salimeh could only stare back, mute.

Finally and without further comment, Charlotte handed her a red band and Salimeh's eyes fell again in self consciousness.

Again in a whisper Charlotte asked her, "Tell me?"

Salimeh understood the intent of her question.

Tell me why you are here. Tell me what you think about when your room is dark and you're all alone. Tell me what you see when you touch yourself.

"I... I like men... I'd like to watch, maybe two men..." she stammered before going silent.

Charlotte patted her leg and again Salimeh was grateful for her consolation.

Then her host seemed to arrive at a decision after surveying the room.

"She stood up and put out her hand for Salimeh to take. "You don't seem like a small talk kind of gal," she said and Salimeh shook her head in agreement.

"Come with me," and Charlotte laughed, and she lead her up the stairs and through another door to a change room like the kind you might find in a sauna.

She handed Salimeh a white towel.

"Here's what you do. Put your clothes in a locker," and she handed her a key. "Have a shower, wrap a fresh towel around your waist and go through that door," she said pointing to the left.

"Don't worry, when you go through that door you still make all your own choices and you are still in control (and then a wicked grin) ...or not, if that's what you want."

Charlotte spun her around, smacked her playfully on the ass and pushed her towards the shower.

When Salimeh looked back, Charlotte was gone.

In the shower she was alone with her thoughts which were scrambled by lust and indecision.

At last, she stood in front of her locker wearing only a towel around her waist for modesty, and then with some hidden vestige of resolve she opened the door and passed over.

The whole second floor was a dimly lit maze of smaller rooms, and corners. The scent of sweat and eroticism was overpowering and hypnotic, and its gravity drew her in.

As her eyes adjusted to the light she saw that there were people in the hallways, men, women, couples slowly meandering along the dark corridors, sometimes pausing to look in the open doors, sometimes bumping ever so gently up again one an another. A glance would be exchanged, maybe a smile, or perhaps a hand might reach out to a breast, or down below.

Then she saw a young man maybe a little younger than her standing beside a door. His towel was discarded. He was stroking himself. She noticed immediately that he ignored the women as they passed but gave the men a coquettish little smile.

The vision put Salimeh into a hot funk, she felt wanton, urgent.

Still, he was too little young for her, not yet ripe enough. Her tastes lay elsewhere.

She took a step forward. Her first one and it was all she needed.

Now she felt an over powering sense of sensuality and belonging. Here was the world she had always craved but never dared to hope for, and here were the people who shared her carnalities.

Charlotte had told her that respect was the most important quality of the house and that as long as she avoided any extended eye contact with the other guests no one would approach her. She fixed her stare ahead and started down the hall way.

She could here sounds emanating from behind closed doors, soft little moans and gasps.

Sometimes nothing more than a grunt or a giggle.

All of it added to the powerful obscenely luscious ambience.

She passed an open door and was surprised and a little disappointed to find it empty. There room was small and empty save for a double bed covered in a black vinyl mattress, and a dispenser on the wall with condoms and lubricant.

The affect was jarring. There was no denying her intent anymore.

She imagined herself in there for a moment, on her back, her legs open, her sex glistening and felt aroused by the idea of her own availability to any stranger who wanted her.

She was actually surprised to feel the delicious sensation of her hand at her own breast, her nipples hardening between her fingers. She pinched one and then another, delighted in their immediately response.

She let the image linger for a moment then she shook it from her mind and moved deeper and more deliberately towards her own darkness.

The scene in next room stopped her on the spot.

A man, maybe in his late 30′s, handsome and well built with fulsome chest hair, sat on the edge of a single bed while a petite blonde woman kneeled between his legs, her head bobbing up and down. It took a moment for her brain to process what she was seeing.

She had watched pornography of course... lots of pornography, and once at a party she has listened and masturbated as two of her friends fucked quietly behind a sofa when they thought everyone was asleep.

But she had never watched a man and a women in sexual congress in real life. And here they were, the door open. Brazen.

The man ignored her, lost in his own pleasure, the woman saw her at the door and Salimeh froze, and blushed crimson red.

The girl stopped sucking and released him from her mouth so Salimeh could see just how thick and heavy he was. It lasted just a moment then she smiled and went back to devouring her anonymous lover.

Salimeh fled from the door way, hardly able to breathe, feeling a heady mixture of shame, embarrassment and yearning.

She stopped in the hall for a moment to compose herself, breathed deeply and after a moment felt the brush of a body going past her, then another.

She hardly dared to open her eyes and look. That's when she saw them.

Later she learned their names were Vince and Errol and that they had never met before tonight.

They were two beautiful sculptured specimens of hairless, chiseled masculinity and they were both at full arousal. As they slipped into a room Salimeh bit her lip a little as she realized the door remained open.

Her fear was all spent now, instead she was driven by long suppressed need.

As she reached the door she glanced as she passed, just long enough to see these twin adonises in firm embrace. Their bodies entwined, their lips exploring each other oblivious to the world.

Salimeh kept walking. Shocked that here at last was the vision she had lost so many hours in the those long late nights imagining.

She turned and went back to look again.

They were still passionately engaged and now she stood in the door way and watched them, unconcerned by her surroundings. Each noticed her at the same time and she saw their lips turn to a smile beneath the kisses.

Their tempo increased.

They wanted her to watch.

She slipped inside and closed the door and stood, leaning against the wall, mesmerized by their performance.

Errol's hands ran over Vince's chest gripping his breasts, and he squeezed his lovers nipples hard. There was nothing gentle about this encounter.

Here were two men who fucked other men, and who fucked like men.

Her towel fell to her ankles, her fingers fell to her sex and she tickled herself delighted by the feeling.

The tickles soon gave way to long deep strokes and as she watched these two older, powerful figures grip each other's cocks she plunged inside herself with one finger and then two.

She opened her eyes and they were smiling at her.

"Fuck"

They motioned to her to join them

"Fuck"

She stepped over her towel and stood between them and they closed around her.

She melted from the feeling of flesh and hard muscle pressing against her, and from the freshly showered smell of them.

"Oh fuck"

As they enveloped her she felt something so dramatic she could not have ever imagined it.

She was now so far beyond the realms of desire, she gave herself over to them entirely.

She felt like a slut and it made her powerful.

They kissed her face and her lips and neck and her breasts. Their hands explored her, and four hands gave her so much more pleasure, they gripped her ass and dug in their fingernails, bit at her nipples, tore at her throat, pulled her hair.

Vince's cock pressed against her wet moist opening, Errol's thickness found a home between her ass cheeks and the mixture of their sweat dripped into her pink private place as he smoothly ground his shaft against her.

They weren't taking her like two men and a woman. She was man. They were fucking her like a man.

She took them both in her hand and jerked at them violently like she had seen the young man do earlier to himself. She kissed them back with force and passion, gave as good as she got, fought for power and dominance but it was no good.

She was the beta. The bottom in this gay menage et trois. Soon her boys had her bent over on all fours on the bed. Vince lay beside her but he didn't touch her.

Errol stood behind her and she felt the cool touch of fresh lube being rubbed onto her lips.

He teased her opening and rubbed her clitoris with his swollen knob and gradually inch by inch penetrated her core.

A voice, her own, hissed a long held confession, "Slut."

She liked how the world felt on her tongue.

She felt his tempo quicken.

Salimeh was overcome by waves of pleasures that wracked her whole boy as Errol gripped her hips and drove himself harder insider her. She threw her head back, her eyes opened and she groaned out loud as she watched Vince lying on the bed beside them, his face a vision of rapture as he pulled himself rhythmically at the scene of them fucking.

Their eyes met and she felt a wave of wicked release wash over her. Her eyes feasted on his hard, toned body, the sharp definition of his abs, the little beads of sweat on his forehead now spreading to his chest and his belly and his thick hard manhood. She stared at it, delighted in it and for the first time in her life she opened her mouth to a cock in anticipation.

She never took men like that. Usually she hated the idea of it with the man-boys she dated because it always seemed to be about her subjugation and their selfish pleasure ...but not now.

Now all those ancient constraints melted away and she fell upon it eagerly as the pleasure between her legs built towards an exhilarating crescendo.

She would never take a man like that...never allow him in her mouth, never grant him the self satisfaction... all these things she remembered as her lips slipped across the swollen engorged head of his thick, hard delicious cock.

She devoured it hungrily, groaned and grunted and she felt it swell further inside her mouth.

How is this even possible, she thought.

Two men were having her, taking her, possessing her. This was no desperate competition for superiority. Instead each was committed to her pleasure and to her deliverance.

In a frenzy Vince grabbed her hair and pulled her head from his shaft. He held her savagely, stared into her eyes, then kissed her angrily.

In a single move he was on his feet again and in the mirror Salimeh watched as he slipped on a condom and lathered it with lube. Errol's eyes fell upon him to even as he bucked wildly at Salimeh's hips.

With one hand Vince pulled on the long tail of Salimeh's luxurious main and with the other he gripped the back of Errol's head and pulled him close, their lips locking in a desperate embrace.

He released Salimeh's hair and moved behind Errol. She watched as the man fucking her parted his legs wide, heard him give out a savage gasp and for a moment his rhythm stopped.

Then she felt a powerful almost disembodied thrust.

In the mirror she could see Vince's hands on Errol's shoulder's and she could read the violent intensity on his face. And with amazement she saw Errol's demeanour switch from dominance to submission. With another thrust she realized that he was not fucking Errol... but he was fucking her through Errol.

She left out a deep primal scream as she understood what he was happening. Errol was now his cock... his six foot tall, firm muscly beautiful body-cock and as he thrust deep inside his lover so the power of that thrust drove Errol deeper insider her.

He started in with a slow rhythm. HIs pace quickened, his urgency grew. Errol roared while Salimeh bucked back hard against him eager for more, desperate for everything they had to offer.

Her rapture spread. A powerful undulating orgasm took her completely. She screamed and cried and unleashed obscenities as Vince, through his beautiful submissive body-cock drove her over the edge.

Errol's release was loud and angry and guttural, she felt him pumping his heavy load inside her swollen raw sex through the condom even as Vince finally stiffened, relented and unloaded inside Errol.

They collapsed altogether in a heavy knot of arms and legs and lubricant and sex.

She lay on her belly, covered by this avalanche of utterly undone masculinity and watched them in the mirror and they sucked the air back into their lungs, thoroughly spent by their exertions.

Moments later they enveloped her, surrounded her, held her and kissed her and nuzzled her gently and no one spoke for the longest time.