Sex Cult Ch. 01

Michael awoke with a start, as if he were catching himself from falling. He didn't remember falling asleep, but then he couldn't think of a time when he had ever remembered the moment of falling asleep. Was that even possible? He struggled to hold on to what he had been dreaming about. It faded quickly as his head filled with awakened thoughts, vague memories from yesterday.

He noticed there were no windows in the room to give him clues as to what time is was. He didn't know if it was day or night. By the glowing light coming from beneath the closed door he could see forms of shapes around the room. The room was still too dark to see details but he could just make out the shapes of what he assumed was furniture. A wooden chair sat in one corner with clothes draped over it. A tall rectangle in another corner he guessed must be a dresser or bookshelf of some kind. It took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the blackness. When they did, he decided to swing his legs over the edge of the side of the bed. At the same time, he brought his body upright into a sitting position and moved his head from shoulder to shoulder. His lower back ached. How long had he been asleep?

He remembered leaving the dining hall yesterday but he couldn't remember what meal it had been. He had been idly chatting with Jennifer, at least he thought that was her name. Then again, he didn't remember ever meeting her before. As they talked, he remembered thinking that her eyes were a beautiful shade of brown. They continued to talk as they moved alongside everyone else, shuffling out of the great room en masse into the long hallway that led to their rooms. Then he was alone in the hallway outside his room. This was the only time he could remember feeling alone. Every other time of the day he was surrounded by people. When he ate, when he meditated, when he worked, when he showered, always there were other men and women on every side doing the same.

Now he stood in the dark and stretched his body. His muscles were sore from the work of the day before. For the life of him, he could not remember what task could have made him so sore. He felt his way to the wall in front of him and placed both his hands on it, feeling for the light switch. There wasn't one that he could feel, at least not on the wall he was groping at in the dark. He could hear a murmuring sound outside the door. It sounded almost like a conversation was taking place right outside. Overhead he heard a soft hum kick in, the sound of air being pushed through a vent into the room. He started to feel tired again and his eyes grew heavy. He moved as quickly as he could through the blackness to lie back on the bed.

When he awoke again, light filled the room. His eyes were not open yet but he could feel the light shining through his closed eyelids. He blinked one, and then again as his eyes adjusted to the light. He surveyed the small room. He remembered looking for a light switch, but how long ago was that? He hadn't found one then and now he saw why. There weren't any switches on the walls. He continued to look around the room. He noticed that the light switches weren't the only thing missing. Except for a framed photograph of a smiling man, there was nothing on any of the walls. This man with in the photo with his dark brown hair, had a pleasant look about him and unremarkable facial features. Unremarkable, except for his eyes. The eyes of the man were a striking blue color. They were like the color of the ocean that surrounds a tropical island paradise. There was something about his smile and those eyes that was so compelling. There was a sense about him. A sense of knowing and contentment, as if he knew a secret he was unwilling or unable to share. He wished he knew the name of the man in the photo. Even more than that, he wished he knew what the man was smiling about. Michael thought maybe he knew at one time, but it all escaped his recall now.

Michael got out of the bed and walked over to the wooden chair in the corner. He grabbed a gray shirt off the back of the chair and put it on. The color of the shirt matched the pants he was wearing perfectly. He slipped on the lace-less gray shoes laying on the floor. It was then that he felt the call of nature and he looked around the room for somewhere to relieve himself. There was nowhere in the room designed for this purpose. He made his way to the door and noticed that it had no handle or knob. He touched the door and felt cold metal. He pushed at it and nothing happened. He knocked softly on the door a few times and the door stood un-moving. He rapped on the door three times with greater force than before. The door swung suddenly opened toward him answering his force with its own. It made him jump out of its way or else become its victim.

He took a step out into the same long hallway of his memory and he looked around. All along the hallway, doors like his own were opening. People were creeping out into the hallway and looking around. They seemed satisfied with what they saw, because they all began shuffling in the same direction. It was the direction of a doorway at the end of the hallway. He could hear the sound of running water and the faint hint of music coming from the direction they were all headed. A white glowing light pulsated from the open doorway as if the light were shining through a fog. He saw that when the people in front of the steady stream of people got to the end of the hallway they ushered themselves single file through the door. They moved unthinking into the room of shimmering light. Michael moved with the others in order to better see what was happening. If nothing else, he hoped to find a place to relieve himself.

When he got close enough that he could hear the music playing more clearly, he was able to look through the door and into the room that lay beyond. The music was an unfamiliar classical piece with an upbeat melody. He could pick out the tinkling sound of a piano. Then he heard violins and cellos adding their voices to fill out the sound. The room he saw through the doorway was long and narrow with a low ceiling. He noticed steam rising from the floors and now he understood the nature of the light that was blinking through it. The floors, walls, and ceilings were covered in a light green tile. As he stepped through the doorway he found it difficult to breath through the steam and the smell of dampness. Through the steam he could see the entire length of the room. Every few feet along the both walls there were shower heads. The shower heads that were on streamed down water onto the naked bodies of both men and women. On the floor along both walls were drain grates which carried the water away after it fell to the ground.

In the corner of the room to the right of the door Michael saw people waiting to take off their clothes. Once they took them off, they pile their clothes into laundry hampers before moving into the room and finding their place among the others. Michael followed their lead. He tried not to stare at all the shapes of the bodies he saw around him. After he took off his clothes and dropped them into one of the hampers, he made his way into the room to find an open shower head.

As he walked, Michael noticed that most of the people he passed along the way were washing themselves unencumbered and uninterested by the other people. A few were chatting with each other as if there was nothing out of the ordinary happening. Michael approached an unused shower head and turned it on. He let the water warm his skin. He allowed himself to relieve his bladder, adding his water to the water swirling down into the grate below.

When he finally looked around, he saw something that caught his eyes across the room from him. Near the end of the room, a stick of a man was oddly engaged with a large beefy woman twice his size. It took Michael a moment to register what he was looking at. The man was on one knee in front of the woman. His face was buried in between her legs. One of his arms was moving rapidly up and down, his head hiding the actions of his hand. The woman's eyes were squeeze tight and Michael could hear her croaking out moans as she rocked back and forth. Periodically, she would lift one leg and her whole body would shake. Her right hand joined the man's, hidden by his face. Her left hand grasped the sparse hair at the back of the skinny man's head. When she shook with pleasure, her enormous tits wobbled from side to side like giant tandem wrecking balls demolishing a building. As Michael continued to watch his neighbor's activities out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed his own private was now standing at attention. He felt his cheeks grow warm and he tried not to make eye contact with anyone around him. Of course, with so many people around, it was all but impossible not to meet the gaze of several people.

In his attempt to avert his gaze, Michael noticed a young woman standing two shower heads to the left of him. She was looking directly at him with no intentions to stop. His cock was now throbbing and he tried to hide it behind his hands. As big as his hands were, they weren't quite up to the task. He soon recognized the woman staring at him as the woman he had conversed with the day before. The woman began to walk toward him. Michael started to panic. He wasn't sure what to do. Should he try to pretend not to see her? Could he slip by her in this room so full of human obstacles? He tried to turn to leave but she stopped right in front of him, blocking his path. She spoke to him in a sing song tone, "Are you going somewhere Michael?"

"umm...no...I just...well yeah...I was just finishing up here," he said. He wasn't sure he had answered her question. He wasn't even sure if what just came out of his mouth could be considered human language.

She smiled, and when she did her eyes twinkled.

"If you wait just a moment, I have something I wanted to show you. Do you have a minute?"

Beneath his hands, Michael's cock was now rock hard. He looked down at her glistening wet body. Her tits were perfectly shaped. Round and perky. Her rose colored nipples stood sharp. They seemed to be pointing at him.

He wanted to reach out and touch her body but he couldn't even remember if he knew her name. He decided to bite the bullet and he said, "I guess I can wait for a minute, Jennifer, wasn't it?" She nodded and giggled and she turned back toward her shower head. He looked at her backside as she walked away. Her shape was alluring, her ass so tight and firm, calling to him. He wondered how old she was and at the same time he didn't care. All he wanted now was to take her in his arms and make her his own. All he wanted now was to fill her with his manhood.

Jennifer was gone for only a split second, but Michael's mind began to betray him. What was it that she want to show him? How could he regain his composure now after the embarrassment of being so erect in front of her? With her back turned, could we get away unnoticed to the privacy of his room to relieve the pressure he felt building up below? Jennifer returned with a wicked smile on her face and a towel in hand. She laid on the tiled floor. Michael didn't understand. Jennifer lowered herself to her knees onto the towel in front of him. Instinctively he moved himself closer to her. Jennifer moved Michael's hands from his package to reveal his cock to her in all it's glory. Michael could see the hungry look in Jennifer's eyes as she pressed her lips together. He felt himself getting light headed from the thought of what was coming next. He braced himself with one hand on the tiled wall behind him. With pursed lips, Jennifer kissed his prick. Jennifer started by kissing just the tip. Then, inch by inch, she made her way down his shaft all the way to his body and back again. At the tip, she opened her mouth and enveloped him in her sweet wet warmth. Michael's right knee twitched involuntarily as her head began to move forward and back, forward and back. Her mouth engulfed his cock and made it disappear and then revealed it again. Over and over she continued her magic trick. Michael watched her head bobbing back and forth. He looked down past her head and the curve of her back. His eyes followed her curves down to her ass which was resting on the heels of her feet. Her ass cheeks spread ever so slightly on her heels, inviting him.

Jennifer's right hand reached up and fondled his balls before coming to rest around the base of his shaft. Her left hand found it's place on his thigh, bracing herself. As he looked down at her, she met his gaze and her lips came to rest wrapped around the bell shaped end of his man meat. She began to stroke him with her hand and at the same time she licked the underside of his shaft with her little pink kitten tongue. She matched each of his moans with her own as she stroked him faster and harder, faster and harder, faster and harder. They made eye contact and she opened her mouth wide. She called up to him with a desperate growl, "I want you to cum in my fucking mouth." Then she opened her mouth wide again. Michael felt the pressure in the base of his manhood building up rapidly. So much pressure becoming greater and greater until he reached his peak and he couldn't take it anymore. He felt himself lose control of his body as he released every ounce of his milky white man juice into her wide open mouth with a groan.

With her mouth full of cum, Jennifer made a sound that conveyed her satisfaction and she swallowed every last drop of him. Then she licked her lips and smiled up at him. "I guess you had something to show me too," she said and she laughed. Jennifer stood up and turned to walk away.

"Wait," he said, "Is that all?" Jennifer turned back toward Michael. She shrugged. Then she winked at him. She smiled that wicked smile like she had before, then turned and quickly made her way out of the shower room. On her way out she grabbed a new towel off the wall rack and wrapped around her tight little body as she left. Michael rinsed himself off and collected his scattered thoughts. He wondered how soon it would be before he would see Jennifer again. What would transpire the next time they met? He hoped he would again find himself inside of her. Maybe next time, it wouldn't just be her mouth. He felt himself drained of energy, but strangely he also felt full of life as we walked proudly past the watchful and knowing eyes of the other men and women who were finishing their morning cleansing rituals.