Warehouse Party

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Warehouse party, that was more than it was planned to be.
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Compared to how dingy the outside of the building looked, the hosts for the party did a phenomenal job creating an elegant, and sophisticated atmosphere for an upscale cocktail party. This was the first time my wife and I have visited "The Warehouse" and our first impression was a bit of awe. The outside of the building looked like no one gave it even a second of attention in the last 40 years, but once we got through the entry way, inside the first room, it was incredible. It looked right out of a movie set. The lighting was dim enough to create some ambiance, cool music in the background, loud enough to set the theme, but not overbearing, and the décor was top notch. The first room we entered looked to be about a quarter the size of the entire building, a couple stories to a high roof, metal everything, and different seating areas and standing tables setup throughout. There were about two hundred people spread out across the room, some in pockets of a few people in a conversation, a few couples standing by themselves, and a couple stray folks, that seemed to be on their own. There was a bar, serving some drinks, right by the door we walked in, and looked to be a couple more on the back side of the room. Everyone was dressed damn near perfectly. A lot of cocktail dresses, that were just sexy enough, but not over the top, high heels, men dressed all looking straight out of a GQ photo shoot.

We stepped up to the bar to get our first drink into us, and give us a chance to take the whole scene in. I was a bit mesmerized by the entire experience...the people, the building, the atmosphere. It was the type of party I had always wanted to experience, but had previously never really knew existed. And the people watching, fricking incredible. We did not discuss it, but my wife's demeanor and body language let me know that she was as equally captivated about it as I was. We settled on a couple martinis, always extra dirty and a couple olives. We stood at the bar, leaning our backs against the bar ledge, and savored the taste of the vodka as we soaked in the sights of the party. A few people walked by us, exchanged a polite hello and shared a smile. Overall, the room seemed pretty inviting. After we emptied our first glasses, we ordered round two, and the second it was handed to us, before I even had a chance to say anything, my wife gave my a quick squeeze on the hand, a kiss on the cheek, and told me she was going to go walk through the party and mingle a bit.

I thought about grabbing a seat on one of the couches nearby, but decided standing next to the bar gave me a better vantage point over more of the room, and felt a bit less awkward than sitting alone. I watched my wife disappear into the crown on the other side of the room, and only got a few glance of her in the distance, every few minutes. She made eye contact with me a few times, smile on her face. I could tell by the way she was carrying herself, her flirting game was 100% on. We have always been faithful to each other, but we mutually enjoy flirting, and feeling of being wanted by others, the attention, and the sexual excitement that came with it. We keep it in check, and don't let it turn into anything more, but like getting the positive feedback. The endorphins we get from the attention, often fuels some pretty hot sex between us later, so we let the little flirting games go on...to a point.

After nearly finishing my second drink, I decided it was time for some flirting of my own, so I ordered another drink and setoff to the middle of the room, looking as I walked, for a interesting group of people to interject myself into the mix. The center of the room was full of small, standing level cocktail tables, all with groups huddled around talking. I found one that looked like an appealing crowd, and got myself into the conversation. It was nice, and I enjoyed the conversation and some of the subtle flirting that took place, but after a while, I noticed I had not seen my wife. Not even a brief glance. I politely excused myself from the conversation and started a slow walk through the room, trying not to be overly obvious, but hoping to see and check in with my wife. I made it to the far side of the room, and she was nowhere to be found. With a couple hundred people, I could have easily missed her, so I worked my way back through the room, assuming I would find her somewhere.

After a couple leisurely rounds through the party, and no sign of her, I started to assume she stepped into the restroom, or outside for some air. Just as I was settled in the idea of going back to camp out at the bar and wait, a women I had been speaking with a few minutes earlier walked up and mentioned that my wife and gone to another part of the warehouse, with a woman she had been talking with. Apparently, the woman who told me, had been standing next to them a few minutes before, and overheard the discussion of doing a strolling tour of the rest of the building. She pointed me to the doors at the back of the room. I made my way to the door, starting to be curious of what the rest of this building was like, and if there was a whole other part of this party going on, that I did not even know about.

I went through the door, and was surprised it emptied out into a completely unfinished massive warehouse space. It was dark, and huge. I could not even see the end of the building clearly, as it was not only massive space, but filled with all kinds of old stuff. Old machines, storage shelves, old conveyer belts, all kinds of old factory stuff. I started to make my way through, exploring for where my wife may have gone, but the steps were slow, as I had to navigate in the dark and around all kinds of objects. As I got about 20 feet into the room, I could see a glow of light, a couple hundred feet in front of me. There was too much between me and whatever was casting the light to tell what exactly it was, but I decided to make my way towards it. It took a while, but as I got about half way there, I could start to hear some voiced in a conversation, and it seemed that whatever was at the lite up area, included some people. I made my way a bit closer, and came around the corner of a very large manufacturing machine, all old and dusty, and got a visual on the lighted area. I partially stood there frozen...it was not at all what I would have imagined.

The very center of the room was wide open, concrete floor, 3 story high ceiling, and a small area setup to look like an elegant bedroom. There was a very large bed, some dressers, nightstands, and a couch at the foot of the bed. The area was surrounded by large and very bright photography lights, with the big umbrella like shades on them. They were setup every few feet, all the way around the "bedroom", casting very bright light onto the area, but also making the rest of the area seem very, very dark. Standing at the foot of the bed, was a young woman, maybe 30ish years old, large camera in her hand, talking to my wife, who was sitting on the couch at the end of the bed. I could hear their voices, but I was too far away to be able to catch exactly what was being said. My curiosity was really sparked...what are they doing back here?

I did not have to wait long to find out. The photographer started taking pictures of my wife, and lots of them. She was slowly walking around the "bedroom" at different angles, with the camera up at her face. It seemed she took dozen of pictures, with my wife just sitting on the couch. After the first series of photos was done, I could see her making hand gestures to my wife, and my wife's position changed...she was now laying on the couch, head down on the seat, legs crossed and up over the top of the couch back. Another series of photos were taken, and then my heart began to race. The photographer stood my wife up, pulled her dress over her head, and tossed it to the side, and laid her back down on the couch, just in her bra and panties. I wish I was close enough to see the look on my wife's face. I wanted so badly to know if it was a look of surprise, or one that she was turned on. He body language, from a distance, did not seem at all uncomfortable. She was not covering herself up at all, and she seemed very open to the experience that was happening to her.

I took a quick mental inventory of the room, and what obstacles were left between where I was standing and the photo shoot, and decided I could safely move a bit closer, without being noticed. It seems like it took forever, with my heart still pounding, but I made it about half way from where I had been, getting closer to them. I was nervous, and excited, but both in a good way. This was fucking hot, but I knew if I had been noticed, it would all end. This was a moment my wife was experiencing, and it was all about her. I was witnessing a moment of erotism for her. As I regained my vantage point, and settled myself, my earlier excitement damn near became uncontrollable. My wife was now completely naked, sprawled out on the couch, and the camera shutter was going crazy. She looked so relaxed an at ease. She looked so damn hot, and I knew...beyond any doubt, she must be super turned on. She was taking different poses, even ones that allowed her legs to be slightly open, with every fold of her pussy being exposed to the camera. This was way beyond the comfort zone I would have thought she would be ok with. Some topless shots...maybe...fully nude and legs spread was way beyond what I would have ever assumed she would do, in any circumstance. I was starting to get turned on myself, not just at seeing my wife's beautiful naked body, but knowing the erotism of the moment, and knowing how turned on she must be, to be doing this.

The woman photographing, stopped to setup a tripod, and had her backed turned to my wife as she fidgeted with her camera, and my wife seized the quick moment. Her hand quickly went between her legs, and her head went back, ever so slightly, as she ran her middle finger over her (must be swollen) clit. This went on a couple seconds, and as the photographer turned around again, much to my surprise, the masturbation did not stop. My wife eyes were fixed on the photographer, her second hand went between her legs and held her lips open, while her other hand continued its rhythmic massage of her clit. The photographer did not miss a beat...the camera started its rapid clicks as she took photo after photo after photo, while my wife continued to work herself, just a few feet away. I was beyond turned on at this point, but could not risk doing anything about it, with fear of being heard. Every part of me, wanted to inch closer and get a better look at this fucking amazing experience that was happening right in front of me, but there was just no way to do it and not get caught. I was forced to just stay put, and enjoy from the distance.

Apparently, I was not the only one turned on, the photographer abandoned her camera and made her way to the couch, using one hand to spread my wife's legs even further apart, and giving her space to sit down between her legs. She began slowly running both her hands up my wife's thighs, stopping just short of her pussy, as my wife's hand began moving faster and faster. I could make out the strain in my wife's leg muscles, as she was building the tension for the explosion I know she must want more than anything right now. I have seen her pleasure herself many times, but the energy going on right now, and the way her body was writhing, is beyond any level of turned on I have ever see. It looked like she was in pure bliss. The photographer moved one of her hands between my wife's legs, and two of her fingers went deep inside my wife. I watched the shutter of pleasure. I thought for sure she would cum, just then, but she seems to slow down the rhythm and let it ride out a bit longer. The sexual energy was beyond anything I have ever experienced. I wanted so badly for my wife to just let loose and experience one of the likely best orgasms of her life, but she seemed to want to hold off, and let it continue to build. I was not close enough to tell for sure, but she must be so fucking wet.

The photographer went for the move that I could only had hoped she would, and her head went down, fingers still working inside my wife, and locked her mouth around my wife's clit. From the distance I was at, it looked like it started fairly gentle, but quickly picked up in intensity, as she continued to suck, and suck, and suck. My wife's orgasm was inevitable at that point...it came on hard, and lasted what seemed like forever. He entire body stiffened, her one hand grabbing the back of the photographers head and pushing her tight against her, and her hips pushing up into her face. The waves of pleasure seems to roll through my wife for at least a full minute, then her body relaxed and she lay there perfectly still. The photographer wasted no time, went back to the camera, took a few shots of the afterglow, unmounted her camera from the tripod, and disappeared into the darkness on the other side of the bedroom from me. I waited a few minutes, as my wife lay perfectly still, basking in the post orgasm peace, and then made my way quietly back to the main party room.

My wife emerged from the back door a few minutes later, dressed and looking composed. She made her way up to me, whispered into my ear that she had a story to tell me later, then turned and headed for the bar.

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AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago
Pitiful

Once again(!) a heterosexual male fantasy posted in the lesbian section. A male narrator of a sex scene between two women DOES NOT make it a lesbian story.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 4 years ago

Good, but proof! "Shutter of pleasure"? sheesh

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