Fellatio 301 – Advanced Techniques
This class was taught/facilitated by a local sexologist/sex positive educator. It was held in the home of one of the members. I had a little trouble finding her house and was about 15 minutes late. Which meant that I walked into a room of 11 other women (plus the instructor) who all knew each other. I bet the majority of them had known each other in the Biblical sense – or at least they knew the husband of one of the women. And when I say “knew” I mean that they were aware of his being so well endowed as to insist that his wife practice on the huge zucchini. Now even though I think of myself as shy (yes – I do. No kidding.), I can usually get along with just about anyone especially if there is the opportunity to be a smart ass. So let's see – a class about blow jobs. Any chance to crack wise? Umm – yes! So while I was learning new things like the fact that the frenulum has four times as many nerve endings as the tongue, and that “the frenulum is my friend,” I had a number of opportunities to be a wise ass. I have found it works to make friends and it separates the people with a sense of humor (possible future friends) from those who don't (not so much). I learned a few things and techniques that I got to practice on my BF later in the week, but that is not the point of this post.
Prior to the class, I had been in contact with another couple who were members of the group who were hosting a party in the woods. However, fate intervened, and BF was not going to be able to attend. I had contacted the hosting couple a few days before the fellatio class to send our regrets.
But – after the class – a couple things happened that I am convinced were not coincidental.
First, the day after the class, the couple IMed (instant messaged) me asking if we could chat on the phone. OK. I was asked if I might please reconsider and come to the event by myself. I hadn't considered going alone but I texted BF while on the call and he gave his strong blessing and encouragement. That same evening, I got emails from five other couples in the group introducing themselves and asking if we could meet and what events I would be attending. My only conclusion was that news of Violet had spread through the group and I was now “the new girl” who was smart and funny. And truth be told, other than the instructor, the youngest and hottest woman who was at the class. Interesting.
Party in the Woods
Fast forward to the evening of the event. I am normally pretty brave about new situations, but was still apprehensive about walking into a party where I knew not a soul. And this was with real flesh, not the cucumbers we had practiced on in class. But I needed to do this. I needed to get out by myself and meet potential play partners. I dressed carefully and in an “I Love Lucy” style moment, got the ribbons from my corset caught in my skirt's zipper. Fifteen minutes of under breath swearing and contortions later, I was put back together properly. Time to go.
Etiquette question: Does one bring a hostess gift to a sex party? Why not? It's a party, it is at a home, I have never met these people before, so yes. I stop at a bakery and pick up some sweets for breakfast the following morning. Based on the looks I got, I am pretty certain they don't get too many women in 4″ heels and corsets in their store.
I am nervous – for which I give myself a break – when I arrive. A few things are quickly apparent. I am again the youngest one here. There is not a lot of pretty in the room. I am the only single woman although there are a few single men. I am attracted to exactly zero of the women and only one of the men. !@#$%^* I fix myself a drink and go out on the deck and make some small talk with the people out there. When I go back in, I look up into the loft and see naked people. Looks like the party has started. I finish my drink, make myself another and head up the spiral staircase (sans heels) to get a better view of what was happening.
And get a view was really all I wanted. I had not had the chance to get intellectually stimulated by any conversation, and as the eye candy was in short supply, I was hoping that seeing live porn a few feet from me would be arousing. I sat down on one of the empty mattresses and as I did, three or four naked men turned to look at me. And they were all stroking themselves – there was a woman on one of the other mattresses on her back with a cock in her mouth, one in her pussy, and one or two others in her hands. These guys were waiting their turn, I concluded.
“Violet,” they said, drawing out the last syllable, trying, I imagine, to sound come hitherish. I put my hands up in front of me and said, “Guys, I am just here to watch for right now.” One knelt down next to me, and said in my ear, “Would you do me the great honor of sitting on my face?” I wanted to scream “WTF?!” but instead I said as politely as possible, “No, not right now, but thank you.”
He sat next to me, took a glow stick, and started to run the tip over the tops of my breasts. Wait. Did I miss something? He didn't ask me if he could do that. I shot him a look that was totally lost on him as he was leaning down to pull the cups of the corset down. I gently pushed his hands away and repeated, “I am just here to watch.” The woman on the bed was making very happy noises – the result of what I concluded was some talented tongue work of the attractive man I had seen when I walked in. After he had made her cum, he stood up and turned to face me.
“Violet” he smiled. “Howard,” I said as I held my hand out to him. “Please join me.” “I'd love to,” he said with a small laugh. He dropped to his knees in front of me and moved in for a kiss. Oh thank God, someone who knows how to kiss. I can taste the woman he was just eating. Nice. I am enjoying this. What I am not enjoying is that there is someone touching my back. Without asking. I ask him to move so that I could lay back. I pull Howard down and we continue kissing. He starts to move down my neck and I am thinking that maybe this would work. He tells me that I have too many clothes on and I say, “I don't think so,” and pull down the cups of the corset. While he is working on my nipple with his mouth, his hand is running up my leg under my skirt. He gets to my panties and I say, “Now those you can take off.” He obliges. We rearrange. I kneel between his legs and bend to use some of the new tricks I'd learned in class.
When I’m doing this, I’m very focused on my actions and the reactions that the different strokes and touches are getting; I am not paying attention to what’s going on behind me. I am however, getting turned on, since sucking cock is something I really enjoy. My ass – still covered in skirt mind you – is sticking up as I am working, and then – WTF?!! Someone is roughly putting his fingers in me. Now I may have been distracted, but not so much that I would have missed someone asking if they could do that. And of course I was wet, and this hand took that as a sign of encouragement. I was shaken out of my blowing bliss, lifted my head, turned slightly back towards the owner of the hand and said, “Please stop. You're distracting me.” WTF?! Why didn't I yell – get your fucking hands off of me!? Why did I think I needed to be polite?
Howard took that moment to ask, “Can I get inside you?” In answer, I started to lay back. He got on his knees and then realized he needed a condom. He said he would be right back and disappeared for what seemed like an hour but was probably less than two minutes. While he was gone, someone dipped his head between my legs. I closed my thighs and said, “No, thanks, he's going to be right back.” WTF?! Was there a sign on the way up to the loft that said – no asking required?
Howard did return with a condom but I couldn't relax enough to enjoy what he was doing to me. After a few minutes I asked if we could take a break. I found my panties and walked downstairs. I got myself a cup of water and went out on the deck to cool off and regroup. This was not for me. This was not going to work. Time to go. I made an excuse to the host couple and was out the door.
I will need to ask about rules the next time I am invited to a house party. Because I thought asking before touching was an immutable law of play. I was wrong.