Five Women Chose Me in the Glass Room

What I’m about to tell moves much farther away from what I usually write than I’m used to. It’s based on something that really happened —the convention, the Belgian woman, the club, the owners, the round bed, the glass walls— but I’ve allowed myself a great many liberties along the way. So take it for what it is: a memory bent to suit me.

It was at a conference on combat disciplines, where I’d been invited to chair a roundtable on self-defense. At coffee break, a Belgian attendee came up to me and said she was fascinated by the way I mixed concepts that seemed to have nothing to do with each other, and that I had made her rethink the real usefulness of traditional arts outside the tatami.

I laughed at that accent of hers, dragging out the r’s. We had lunch together. And then dinner.

We were comfortable. She was about my age, with a firm body, long legs, a slightly rounded face that made her seem younger, and medium-sized breasts with nipples that showed through the fabric. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and she made no attempt to hide it.

Very much in her own way, after we’d spent a while skirting the topic of sex in passing, she told me without preamble that she’d like to fuck me. She used those exact words, looking me in the eyes over her glass.

I burst out laughing and told her that didn’t seem appropriate to me.

She didn’t seem surprised. And that surprised me a great deal.

—And why not? —she asked, amused.

—Because I’m after something a little stronger. Even though you’re fucking gorgeous and I’d eat you right here, on top of the table.

She wasn’t scandalized. Nor offended. She rested her chin on her hand and looked at me with a curiosity that disarmed me and turned me on in equal measure.

—Are you gay? —she asked.

—No.

—Then what do you mean by “stronger”?

—Four breasts. Six. Eight. Surrounding me. —I threw it out there almost suicidally, expecting to see her stand up from the table—. Now you’re going to be surprised, pretty one.

But she wasn’t. She tilted her head and let out a slow smile.

—Truth is, I shouldn’t be surprised, with the contempt you have for everything conventional. —She paused and lowered her voice—. I know a place. I’ve been there before. I think you’ll like it.

***

An hour later she had me with a drink in my hand inside a venue designed for one thing only: to facilitate encounters with no limit beyond, perhaps, good taste. I was surprised not to find it packed with desperate people. They seemed like normal people, some more attractive than others, but with any of them I would have had a drink without a second thought. Prejudices are horrible things, I told myself as I took a sip.

The owner and his wife were working the bar. I ended up explaining to them why I think the universe has one more dimension than the one we perceive, while they kept insisting on asking whether the blows one takes in the ring really hurt. What a question. That’s what being at ease and having one drink too many does: you end up talking quantum physics with a stranger who only wants to know whether you’ve ever had your nose broken.

The place was thoroughly pleasant, and I’m not saying that to advertise it. There, no meant a real no. Only what you wanted to happen happened, and nobody had to go around shoving obnoxious men away, because there were no obnoxious men.

Very soft music. Lights shifting the mood according to each corner. Some couples at tables surrounded by extremely comfortable sofas, touching and devouring each other with a naturalness that made you jealous. Corridors that came and went, decorated with photographs of seascapes, beautiful bodies, and impossible-sized cocks carved in steel and stone with incredible realism. Those who know me know about my fascination with phallic forms. The Belgian woman was doubled over laughing when I asked the owner if I could stroke a huge granite dick, gorgeous and cold to the touch.

And so, between drink and laughter, the owner of the place —she must have been around forty, big ass and tits, black mane, and a little-girl face— came up to me and whispered in my ear:

—I’d like to show you our most exclusive room.

—Which one?

—A round room, surrounded by semi-translucent glass, with a huge bed in the center. Whoever wants to, watches from outside. What happens inside is recorded, but software blurs the faces in real time and deletes the original. Nobody recognizes anybody. —She smiled when she saw my face—. These days technology gets ahead of the book.

—And is it for rent?

—No. It’s reserved for whoever we want. There’s no price.

—So it’s a gift?

—More like an investment —she said—. And I want it for you tonight, if you feel like it.

She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. The Belgian woman came from the other side. Behind us, a waitress stopped us for a moment.

—Do you want anything before going in?

The owner answered aloud, looking at me so I’d hear her clearly:

—Raffle off his cock.

—Any conditions? —the waitress asked, still watching me.

—I want whoever goes in to not come out until I say so —I answered, more demanding than I had intended. The waitress nodded and we went on.

***

As soon as we crossed the door, the owner grabbed me by the waistband of my trousers. I shoved her away sharply and made her fall onto the sofa.

—Until I say so, nobody touches.

She drew a half-smile of excitement she could no longer contain.

I motioned to the Belgian woman and she took off my clothes slowly. I kept my underwear on, although the bulge already made it very clear what state I was in. Right then three more women came in, the ones who had won the raffle. One wasn’t especially pretty, but she had firm flesh and a shine in her eyes that was worth two. The other two were fucking gorgeous.

I ordered their partners brought in and seated on the other side of the glass. There were four, including the owner himself, who happily agreed. The Belgian woman’s was missing. The four were placed in the front row, and I asked for a fifth. I wanted five. The whole room volunteered; the trusted waitress picked a tall, strong one, with a rough but kind face. He smelled good, I remember.

Five men pressed against the glass. Five women inside, wanting me. And lots of people moving through the corridors, watching us with interest. I looked at the five outside and thought again what I had before: that they seemed like good people, that I liked their faces.

I told the last woman who had come in to take off my underwear. The next-to-last I ordered to undress the others and start eating their cunts, one by one. The lighting was just right to see their bodies and, above all, to sense the desire leaking out through their skin.

When my cock was hard as a rock, I let them touch it. Just a little, by turns, like a round. One stroked it softly, another held my balls, another felt my ass, all at once. They were delighted with my ass and with how hard my legs were from so many years on the tatami.

I started handing out assignments. I ordered one to suck me deep, without restraint. Another to massage my testicles very slowly. The third licked my asshole, which drives me crazy when my balls are being kneaded at the same time. The fourth sought my tongue and wanted to drink my saliva. The fifth bit my nipples and chest. I kept rotating them while, on the other side of the glass, the husbands masturbated in silence. For a moment I felt like I was doing some kind of social service. The things that go through a man’s head.

With their office-worker faces, their accountant faces, the faces of normal people with scant libido. I don’t know why I thought that, but I did.

I positioned two of them on the bed, one on top of the other, and ordered two others to lick their cunts and assholes. The fifth kept eating my mouth. When I had them all on the edge, I asked my one and only question of the night.

—I’m only going to ask you one thing, sluts. Tell me: do you want me to come all over you, on your cunts, on your tits, and on your faces when I’m done? Or do you want me to stop now, go piss, and have you hold it for me?

The owner, who was the one devouring my mouth every time I let her, answered first:

—Don’t go. Keep going.

The Belgian woman squeezed my balls and moaned in her own language, proving me right.

***

I ordered the two who were between the thighs of the others to guide me to the bed, and that I wouldn’t move a finger until I’d penetrated the first one. They came on all fours. One clutched my cock and the other pushed my ass while pressing her lips to my testicles, guiding me step by step. They set my glans against the first cunt.

It was spectacular. Open, very hairy, just how I like them, wet and beautifully shaped. I could feel its warmth from a foot away.

And there, in that inexhaustible fountain of pleasure, I drove my cock in with one thrust, until the clear slap of my balls against that ass that had been begging me for a fight for a while now sounded out. I started pumping hard as I lifted her legs. I put one on her clit, another cunt over her mouth so she could lick, another mouth under her on her ass, and another behind me, holding me and supporting my balls, which were already starting to threaten to explode far too soon.

She came in two minutes. But I kept pumping until the one with the mouth on her cunt came as well. With one pull I flipped her over —she let herself be moved like a doll— and the orgasm left her flat on the bed. I put another one beneath her and fucked her in the ass while the one below licked her cunt. She almost came again.

—Give me your cum —the owner asked.

—I’m going to piss on you, I already told you —I replied.

I placed two others face to face, mirror to mirror, and two more touching their clits. I started fucking them carousel-style, alternating cunts and assholes. I began with the Belgian woman’s, tight and deep: three full-throttle thrusts that ripped screams out of her in her own language. From there I moved to her cunt, five more thrusts, and then to the second cunt and the second ass, while the other two never stopped fingering them.

I warned them I was close, but that I wasn’t planning to come before they did. The owner got behind me and slipped a finger into my ass. That slowed me down just enough. The exact amount of time for the four of them to come screaming.

I pulled out my cock and made them line up around the two in the center. I opened their mouths and unloaded the biggest cumshot I remember into them. The cum ran down their faces, and the other three —not the owner, the owner was being punished— devoured it like wolves. On the other side of the glass, the husbands were snorting and kept jerking off, smearing the pane with their own cum.

***

I laid the four of them out in a circle on the round bed. Cunt, mouth, cunt, mouth, cunt, mouth. A perfect wheel. I asked the owner to stroke my balls almost imperceptibly, and when I was ready again, she got on all fours so I could penetrate her.

I came closer. I looked at her face, utterly turned on, wanting me to rescue her from punishment. And I walked right past her toward the bed.

I moved the first mouth aside from the circle and fucked that cunt. The one licking the clit stayed in place, never stopping, and that drove them insane: they reached out with their hands looking for my ass and balls, under the pissed-off gaze of the owner, who saw how I was leaving her for last. That was how I went around the four of them, one after another, while they ate each other.

Then I ordered the husbands down. I separated them, laid each woman on the round bed, and put each man to work eating his own woman’s cunt. The Belgian woman lunged at the mouth of the fifth, the stranger, and if I hadn’t stopped her in time she would have ridden him in a second.

I got to the first husband and ordered him to suck me, just the glans. The guy took my whole cock in his mouth in one go, despite the fact that I’m pretty thick, and I gave him a light slap, just enough. They all understood what their part was. He lubricated my head with his mouth and I fucked his woman a couple of inches from his face. I told him to keep licking.

After a while thrusting like a bull, feeling the husband’s clumsy tongue between my cock and her clit, and the owner massaging my chest with one hand while holding my balls with the other and occasionally licking my ass, I moved on to the next. And so on with all of them.

***

At last it was the owner’s turn. I put her on all fours and fucked her in the ass. She let out a cry. I pulled out my cock, shoved it into her cunt, and from there into that fleshy mouth, which devoured me whole. I ordered all the husbands to rub her at the same time, and the woman went into ecstasy. I came inside her ass in a long burst, but I didn’t stop: I kept fucking her until I saw her writhing, screaming with pleasure.

I pulled out my cock and pushed her over with my foot. She fell back onto the bed. I started pissing all over her tits while she fingered herself like a madwoman and searched for the stream with her mouth open, until it went in and spilled over her cheeks. She came out shrieking.

I lay all the way down, exhausted, and the ten of them piled on me to clean my cock and my body with their tongues and perfumed wet wipes. The Belgian woman was eating my mouth and rubbing her soaking cunt against my knee, as if the night still wasn’t enough for her.

We got dressed unhurriedly. We had one last drink at the bar, said goodbye to the owners, and stepped out onto the street. The Belgian woman squeezed my hand before letting it go. No more needed to be said.