Street Parade: Lena's Trilogy 01

Lena's street parade:

Lena's preface.

Hello dear Reader, my name is Lena. When Dave texted me to say he had published the story of our encounter at the street parade last year, I was very curious and excited. I thus came here loaded with anticipation. Dave neither revealed the details of the story nor his user-name.

Thus, the yearning search for the story surely left its trace in my panties.

When I finally found it, I noticed that Dave's story though accurate, lacked some necessary details to why I acted the way I was described. I hence thought it worthwhile to complement the story by these means by doing a trilogy divided into preface, chapters I, II and III.

Indeed, on the day of our encounter, Dave introduced me to literotica seeking my permission to write and publish our story. Inevitably, I quickly accepted, disclosing to him that I too loved writing, that I am endowed with a decent exhibitionist side and that I even have a video on ph (of which he made mention in his recount).

I also revealed to him that his politeness was impressive, for the guy who published that video with me on ph neither sought my consent before recording, nor my permission to publish. However, the exhibitionist in me tolerated it and even took me several times back to ph to masturbate to it.

Since my encounter with Dave, I have been reading intriguing stories here and contemplating on writing on 3 of my most exciting expiriences : one of which is an extension of Dave's story here and the preceding based on an experience I had before in Bali, Indonesia just before Covid and was recorded without my knowledge and put on ph as I mentioned earlier.

The last one I shall publish will depend on how certain aspects of my private life evolve. As of now, I feel fulfilled.

To understand me and my stories, it makes sense to know a little bit of my background and upbringing. That is why I will start with aspects of my biography without revealing my real identity or that of my family.

In reading this escapades, any association with real people you may know or see or interact on social media should be seen as pure co-incidence. I neither own nor sought permission for the use of rights on trade marks mentioned in my stories.

Though in its core true, a few aspects of this story remain fiction.

Before I start, some of you will surely ask yourselves why I do not write here independent of Dave. The answer is simple. My escapades all have a connection. I credit am hugely indebted to Dave for helping me recognise and trace that connection as you shall see reading along.

Chapter I: Street parade - Lena's prelude.

I was born in the prestigious Zollikerberg hospital in the posh district of Zurich, Switzerland. My maternal grandparents had made a fortune in the banking industry and had purchased a luxury mansion in the exclusive district of Zollikon, renowned to have one of the highest countryside residential real estate prices per square meter worldwide.

When I was 10, my mother moved us, her 3 girls, to Stamford Hill in North London. She had been contracted to work as the head of the Risk Management Department of a large multinational bank in the City while my 2 sisters and I attended a Roman Catholic secondary school for girls. My father had stayed in Zurich, where he continued working as head of Private Capital investment department for European clients in a well-known Swiss bank.

The over 6 years in North London exposed me to a multicultural society, adventures with boys and light drugs. Despite my parents' efforts in shielding us from peer influence, I developed an inner craving to be rebellious and defiant.

Over the years in London, I had platonic relationships with black, Indian and Jewish guys which drove my mother nuts. I also got my tongue and navel pierced. To crown it all, I recorded provocative dance videos; braless or in skimpy bikinis in the early days of IG (2010/2011) at the age of 15.

At the age of 16, I smoked my first joint offered to me by a British Jamaican boyfriend. I remember that day (I later named it 'day X!') vividly, because it brought 2 things about me to light.

Firstly, that I do not get high on cannabis but rather insanely sexually aroused. And secondly, that on the combination cannabis and alcohol, I could develope weird cravings and orgasms induced by anything that vibrates, like sitting on or standing beside loudspeakers, riding a motorbike or galloping on my horse.

Otherwise, untriggered I was not a very sexual person and only very rarely pleasured myself.

Smoking just a single joint and drinking 2 glasses of sweet sangria red wine on 'day X!' was enough to get me uncontrollable arousal on my platonic boyfriend's roller bike as he brought me back home. Each time he accelerated, it felt like a thread was being pulled out from the depths of my virgin hole, rubbing pass my inexperienced clit and bundling itself just below my belly navel. If he kept on accelerating without breaking or changing gears, boom it came out exploding! This happened a total of 5 times before we reached the entrance to the villa we lived in.

As I kissed him goodbye, the look of his eyes through his dishevelled dreadlocks after undoing the helmets, did its magic on me and my sexuality forever. That motorbike ride experience and that dishevelled look are the subconscious reasons, I developed a thing for guys with dreadlocks as I later found out.

Unfortunately, on 'day X!' my mother had been waiting for me and watched us from the balcony of her bedroom upstairs.

When I got in, she asked to have a word with me. I mounted my usual defiance because I assumed she wanted to restart her routine sermons of how risky I lived and what a bad example I was to my junior sisters.

I declined to sit beside her on the dining table, but instead jumped on the dolby surround stereo speakers in the living room while she sat on the sofa opposite. I put up my feet and embraced myself just below my knees burying my chin between my thighs to listen to whatever she wanted to say.

To send a clear message to her, I used the remote control to put on the song dynamite by Taio Cruz on youtube which was a major hit that year. Just the speaker vibrations from Taio's bike in the prelude got my fluids oozing again. By the time it was getting to the part with dance, dance, dance, I was having an unexpected orgasm in front of my mother and heaving my pelvic region repeatedly without control.

What had happened to me? You need to watch the clip of the song to understand what was going on between my legs and putting me in this weird situation. Thus, instead of passing the message as Taio sang that I want to celebrate and live my life..., I disclosed unwittingly that I was becoming a little slut.

True to her profession, my mother announced that I was a moral hazard to my sisters and that my peers in school, as well as what I just did forced her to classify me to be risk category 1 (very high risk). She declined to believe me as I tried to re-assure her that I had never had sex, neither had I been penetrated in any way before.

For those not used to financial jargon, FINMA risk category 1 includes large institutions that could potentially destabilise the financial system and the risk impact of institutions in the lower categories reduces on a sliding scale down to category 5.

The consequence was that I was to be put in a boarding school in Lausanne, Switzerland with annual fees of 80.000 USD a year for me to do my international baccalaureate. My mother was also moving back to Zurich to re-join my father in investment banking for wealthy European investors.

It was at the boarding school in Lausanne that I met Janina, whose parents happened to be our distant neighbours back home in Zollikon. We shared similar passions like horse-ridding, skiing, hiking, sun-tanning, practicing yoga and being defiant to over-protective mothers.

Although she had larger C-cup breasts compared to my B-cup, our body frames were quite similar: petite, blonde, 5 ft 4 in height and about 100 pounds in weight.

She however had more piercings than me, with both nipples and, as I came to find out, her clit pierced. Contrary to me, she entertained no tan lines and made good use of their backyard pool to tan in Eve' costume on weekends.

Again, unlike me, Janina was outgoing and very sexual; and will sometimes absent-mindedly pinch one of her nipples in public spaces, if she saw something she found hot. She had a particular interest in guys above 40 with body piercings and even once opted to work as a baby sitter just to get off on ogling at a hot mixed-race dad. The 45-year-old athletic guy worked as a rescue swimmer at our school.

After our very successful baccalaureate exams, we spent the weekend at the rescue swimmer's humble abode, giving our parents the odd excuse of camping for our junior Olympic swimmers pre-trial in Lausanne. In a desperate attempt to be convincing, we decided to send them some pictures. To get the best shots, we tried out several swimsuits beside the pool of a lakeside hotel in Lausanne. And within a short time, we could see that the our photographer, the shirtless rescue swimmer could no longer conceal a growing erection in his shorts.

Using the pretext of adjusting Janina's swimsuit for the perfect shot, he brushed her nipples and crotch several times getting them really swollen within several minutes.

When we got back inside, I was distracted looking at the pictures we had done on his laptop. Some were intimately focused on Janina's swollen parts in a perverted way. I was so consumed by this, that I missed the first kiss. I only lifted my head when I heard a loud groan from to Janina, who was now lying on a cushioned lounge on the balcony of our suite with the rescue swimmer kneeling beside her sucking on her nipples and clit-rubbing her through her swim suit. Slowly, he stripped her naked and then knelt between her legs to have taste of her pierced but still virgin goods.

Her screeching groans made me lose control, moving to join them like a possessed maiden on heat. Kneeling beside the lounge, I gently kissed and touched Janina while the rescue swimmer pleasured her below.

After a while, I noticed her pierced nipples started thudding in tactful waves. I lifted my head to see that my friend was being fucked for the first time. I interlocked my left hand with hers while using my right hand to play with her right nipple the way I knew she loved it, only stopping once in a while to wipe of the tiny beads of sweat forming on her forehead and straightening away her blonde hair from her face.

My surprise sensual participation was all it took to cause Janina orgasm with convulsions. After she came, the rescue swimmer quickly followed suit; emptying every drop of his manly juice into her young hole. He subsequently made a movement towards me as if ask me to lick him clean. Too shy to heed in, I meekly declined by turning to, leaning and kissing my friend Janina on her lips.

There and then, a new bond fortified our friendship. She had lost her virginity in my presence to an older guy she greatly admired and found irresistibly hot. I on the other hand, was not quite ready. I craved for the circumstance and what I felt on 'day X!'. It felt like I was addicted, direly wanting to have exactly all three things for my first time: a bit of weed, some alcohol and a well-built guy with dreadlocks for my de-flowering.

Shortly after this amazing incident, Janina and I both started university in different cities in Europe. I studied medicine in a private foreign university while Janina studied robotics at the renown technical university of Zurich (ETH Zurich), number 7 on world university rankings.

After a few months at uni, I started seriously dating a guy called Matthias, to whom I eventually lost my virginity. He was of my age, with neatly kept dark blonde hair and a worked-out body. A guy my mother categorized as risk category 5. His parents owned a large company in southern Germany specialized in the production of cleaning machines. So, it was no surprise that he was a welcomed guest at my parents' house in Zollikon and on our family boat on the lake.

After 2 years of dating, my parents started taking us as a couple to the soirée parties of Zurich's banking community. Matthias had the air of a snub who played polo and had visited more than 80 countries by the age of 24, so he easily found plenty of conversation partners at those parties. For their finance world prestige, they gave him full attention when he mentioned that he invested his father's money in collecting seasoned wine bottles above 20 years old from caves like Château Lafleur, château Lafite Rotschild, château pétrus etc.

The sex with Mathias was fine but grossly void of any of the 3 things I seemed addicted to. Occasionally, he did lines to show-off but found joints to be amusement for the destitute.

On a weekend we spent in Zollikon, my parents took us to one of the mythical parties thrown by the legendary star banker Tidjane Thiam. For those who do not know him, Thiam had made highly impressive figures for the second largest Swiss Bank Credit Suisse within a year after taking over as CEO. Everyone in the community yearned to be associated with him. His parties were startling. Live music, finest cuisine and exquisite Dom perignon vintage bottles from 2006 and 2008 depicted finest class.

It was no surprise that my parents were also devoted admirers of Thiam. For the first time in my life, I saw my mother, the established risk manager, with an entirely submissive appearance while talking to someone. More so, a very tall, highly reputable, handsome, soft-spoken but extra-ordinarily self-confident black African man who gained fame not in sports or show-business but in her domain: top-level banking! 'Ex Africa semper aliquid novi", the Romans used to say.

I quickly realised the conversation with Thiam pleased my mother in more ways than one. As the soirée progressed, she loosened up and drank more alcohol than I had seen her drink my entire life.

This ended up to be too risky for a risk manager, for she let out utterances in the drop-off limousine on our way back, that even Matthias seemed embarrassed.

When they got upstairs to their room, Matthias and I overheard my parent's fantasy play.

The scene was a large bed in Thiam's basement, where all those powerful women are taken by strangers bare-back with reckless abandon to the host's satisfaction. The grand final was the winner being offered to the champion's (Thiam's?) wanton discretion.

These fantasies had a huge effect on me too. The sex with Matthias that night and for several days after brought flashes of me in a tipsy state in Thiam's basement with his fully erect tool pistoning into me under the full glimpse of my parents. I wondered what risk category my mother would qualify that. I also imagined her, holding me in place and being proud of my stamina and my ability to go the full 8 inches or whatever length the star banker was graced with.

I started touching myself more often with this fantasy in mind. Every position I took when practising yoga reminded me of my state in Thiam's basement and I would finish the yoga sessions rubbing hard on my clit before roaring out mind-blowing orgasms.

The yoga effect was because of my brief conversation with Thiam's wife during the soirée. She was passionate about yoga and asked how she could get a private yoga teacher. I offered to help find one and we exchanged numbers which led to my first real escapade.

Chapter II: Lena's first escapade

Over the following weeks, I actively searched for yoga teacher courses online. I soon found one in Bali, Indonesia that I booked to attend with Matthias.

However, a few weeks before the trip, Matthias and I called off our relationship mainly because my basement fantasy began making him feel odd and he thought if I became a private yoga teacher for the Thiam's, the fantasy would eventually become reality considering how intensive I was turned on by yoga since the party.

That is how I found myself alone in Bali in January 2020 just before the very first Covid outbreak, training to become a certified yoga teacher. The training went on smoothly. I stayed in a hostel in Ubud with young and adventurous back-packers mostly from Australia.

After 2 weeks in Ubud, Janina came for a visit and we did a group hike of 10 persons from the hostel through the tegellalang rice fields. In the late afternoon, we spoilt ourselves to some weed and a sour liquor called arak at a party hut along the way back to our hostel.

During our conversations at the hut, the atmosphere became more and more jovial as the effects of the cannabis and arak kicked in. Out of sudden, a cute-looking, petite blonde ballet dancer and her girlfriend from Denmark mentioned that there was an adult party in a remote villa in the rice fields on invitation only and that they could call the Danish hostess to ask if the 10 of us could join them. The only rules were: no underwear and no audible verbal exchanges were allowed at the party. Otherwise, everything was tolerated and no one was forced to participate in any acts without consent or consume any drugs or alcohol other than that provided by the hosts due to the risk of methanol poisoning that was rampant on the Islands.

Janina promptly accepted the offer "just to watch" as she innocently put it while I was still a bit hesitant. However, the weed, the arak liquor, the weeks of sexual abstinence and the tropical heat were unleashing their effects on me. Just the bare thought of being around naked young people involved in different levels of sexual activity got me increasingly aroused. After just 5 minutes, I was soaking wet between my legs just thinking about whether to go or not. I could simply not resist the offer anymore. I needed to be fucked.

As I turned to ask Janina if she is sure about this, she planted her lips on mine, letting our pierced tongues wriggle on each other while her hands fidgeted with my nipples. Damn, she knew exactly when, where and how to turn me on.

"Yes" I shouted to the group of 5 girls including Janina and 4 boys, 2 of them being a gay couple.

Back at the hostel, we quickly showered and freshened up. I threw on a tightly fitting sheer white beach dress that went just below my knees. I skipped bra and panties as requested; and did my hair in a pony tail, unsure of what awaited us. It was still so warm outside that even after the cold shower, I still had a light film of sweat which caused my dress to stick on my body like a second skin. My nipples were pointed, accentuating the pink puffy areolas. The folds of my shaved crotch were in their very swollen state clearly visible from afar. The lower back of the dress kept on sticking onto my ass cheeks so that when I walked faster, the curves of my butt sent ripple waves that slapped back to the mid cleft with sharp sounds.

Janina tied herself up with a thin pink silky drape using a style that reminded me of Buddhist monks, only that hers was also sheer and stuck tightly too to her skin. Any onlooker would have had no difficulty seeing that she was pierced on both nipples, her navel and her clit. She looked so hot; I could not restrain myself from touching her. She let out a soft moan as we embraced each other to do what we called panty checks.

I slowly felt and gently squeezed her well trained muscular bum over the smooth silk of her drape. As I moved my hand to the front onto her pierced crotch, I felt the warmth emitted from her vagina. Before I could continue, she whispered into my ear..

"Not now babe...please".

I respected her wish and showed some restrain. We waited for the others at the reception. When the 2 Danish girls came downstairs, they all had very short cheerleader skirts in different colours. In a slightly naughty manner, they took turns to spin around, flashing us their tanned and well-trained bums. I had a funny feeling that unlike us, this was not their first adult party. We however all had two things in common: no panties, no tan lines.