The Swingers’ Club That Changed Our Motorcycle Getaway
Ever since that weekend when Carla and I first let ourselves go, we couldn’t stop fantasizing about the next adventure. The end of summer, with its relentless heat that gave us no respite even at night, seemed like the perfect excuse. A motorcycle getaway, traveling light, with no fixed destination except the one I had secretly kept to myself.
She trusts me enough to climb on behind me without asking where we’re going. That’s part of the game. The rule when packing is always the same: few clothes, and make them highly suggestive. I choose pale leggings and, beneath my jacket, a see-through shirt that hides very little. For her, a tight faux-leather one-piece that outlines every curve of her body, emphasizing her tits and that round ass that gets my cock hard just by looking at it.
Our first stop was a huge, almost deserted beach hidden among the dunes. The perfect place to show off the swimsuits we’d bought for the occasion: she wore a tiny, semitransparent bikini that left her nipples and pussy visible beneath the wet fabric; I wore a minimal thong that barely covered my cock. After lying in the sun for quite a while, with far too much heat bearing down on us, we decided to stroll along the water’s edge and cool our feet.
We walked hand in hand, stopping only to kiss or for my hand to disappear beneath the wet fabric for a moment, two fingers entering her soaked pussy while she let out a low moan. Her nipples stood hard beneath her bikini, and I obviously couldn’t hide the erection pulling against my thong. That was when two women crossed our path. Mature, though clearly so well-preserved that it showed at a glance. One wore a white thong that set off her tanned skin; the other proudly displayed an all-over tan and breasts that, one had to admit, were the work of a surgeon with a very good hand.
They stopped beside us under the pretext of asking the time. Both looked down without shame, at the bulge showing beneath my thong. Carla noticed and, far from feeling uncomfortable, turned up the heat by sliding a hand down my back, then grabbing my cock through the fabric and squeezing it shamelessly in front of them. My body responded at once: the tip began to poke out above the thong’s strap.
“We’ve never seen you around here before,” said the darker-haired one, without taking her eyes off Carla’s hand.
“We’re just passing through,” Carla replied, amused. “We were looking for somewhere quiet to have a drink tonight.”
The two of them exchanged a knowing smile. Without hesitating, they recommended a place: a swingers’ pub on the outskirts called Eden, where, according to them, a couple like us would fit in perfectly.
“Tonight is the welcome night for new couples,” added the other, the one with the surgically enhanced breasts. “You can go just to watch if you’re shy. No one’s going to force you to do anything.”
***
We had never set foot in a place like that. The mere idea made my stomach churn with lust. We confessed that we didn’t know how to behave in a place of that sort, and they laughed gently, like two patient guides.
“You arrive, set your boundaries, and observe. That’s all. If you feel like fucking, you’ll see what happens,” one of them explained. “There are lockers for changing, a bar for drinks, and, at the back, the rooms where people get it on. But you’ll discover that part yourselves.”
We said goodbye with a promise to meet again that very night.
The rest of the day passed without incident. Back at the hotel, we showered and went down to dinner. Carla chose a pleated black miniskirt, knowing perfectly well what effect it had on me, and beneath it a very fine thong that barely covered her pussy. I put on tight, light-colored trousers to match her provocation. During dinner, she played with me as only she knows how: a long look, one fewer button on her blouse, a glimpse of lace bra, her bare foot sliding up my calf until it rubbed my hard cock through my trousers. Before dessert, she got up, went to the bathroom swaying her hips with calculated calm, and, when she returned, slipped her thong, soaked with her juices, into my hand beneath the table.
“The adult part is beginning,” she whispered in my ear, biting my earlobe. “And tonight I want them to fuck me properly.”
On the way to Eden, we barely spoke. I drove with one hand and, every so often, confirmed with the other that she was wearing nothing beneath her skirt; I slipped two fingers into her wet pussy without taking my eyes off the road, and she writhed in her seat, moaning into my ear. We were nervous—it was our first time in a swingers’ club—but the anxiety weighed less than our curiosity and our desire to fuck.
At the entrance, they asked whether it was our first time. When we said yes, a guy at reception offered to give us a tour and suggested a reserved table with a bottle of cava and some snacks. We accepted.
“Feel free to do whatever you want and, above all, feel free to do nothing,” he told us as we crossed a small dance floor. “You’re in charge here.”
He showed us the red-lit corridor and the rooms on either side: some with sofas and a huge futon on the floor, another closed off by a grating through which we could see a couple fucking—his cock buried in her ass up to the balls—and, at the back, a room with restraints on the wall and a padded trestle I recognized from movies. When the tour was over, he left us in the changing rooms.
“From here on, you’re the protagonists,” he said before leaving.
We emerged changed. Carla wore a leather minidress, with a very short skirt and flounces that left nothing to the imagination: almost her entire ass showed as she walked. I dared to wear a vinyl thong and a couple of fine chains around my body. The die was cast.
***
From our table, sipping our drinks slowly, we observed the place like two spectators in a private theater. Two couples chatted at the bar. Another groped each other shamelessly on a sofa: she had her hand inside his trousers, jerking his cock without hiding it. A girl danced alone, holding on to a vertical pole, incredibly confident in her body, rubbing her pussy against the metal. We commented on each scene in low voices, conspiratorial and comfortable in our role as voyeurs.
And then they appeared. Bruna and Nadia, the women from the beach, came through the door already dressed for the occasion. The brunette wore a white see-through dress beneath which only a thong could be made out; her friend wore a black minidress with lace on top, no bra, her surgically enhanced tits peeking through the holes in the lace. They spotted us immediately and came straight to our table, greeting each of us with a kiss on the mouth, tongues and all, shamelessly, as though we had known one another all our lives. Their presence, for some reason, gave us a false sense of security.
After a couple of drinks, Nadia suggested that we go dancing. A few energetic songs gave way to slow ones, and before we had time to decide anything, Bruna pressed herself against me. I felt the heat of her body, her hands sliding down my back to grab my ass boldly and slip beneath my thong to caress me between the cheeks. I tried to control the erection growing against her belly when I spotted Carla a couple of steps away, dancing with Nadia, the two of them tangled together in a contrast of skin tones, Nadia’s hand lost beneath my wife’s skirt, moving in a slow rhythm. We swapped partners for a couple more songs and returned to the table laughing.
“So, how are you finding the experience?” Nadia asked, pouring out the remaining cava.
“We’re curious about the back area,” Carla replied, giving me a sideways glance.
They invited us to join them. We moved along the red corridor. Some of the rooms were already occupied: in one, on a divan, a couple fucked without paying attention to anyone, him taking her from behind on all fours while she moaned with her face buried in the leather; on the other side of the grating, two men jerked off while watching them, one of them already on the verge of coming. We entered the screening room and sat in the last row, where the screen—two blondes sucking the cock of the same man—was almost an excuse.
I didn’t wait long. I slid my hand beneath Carla’s skirt and found her completely wet; I pushed two fingers all the way inside her and rubbed her clitoris in circles with my thumb while she bit her lip and spread her legs wider. At the same time, Bruna, sitting to my right, slipped her hand inside my thong and pulled out my hard cock without asking permission. She gripped it with her whole hand, stroking me from top to bottom, weighing my balls with the other. While I caressed my wife’s pussy, two fingers moving in and out, Bruna lowered her head and began to suck me. The first time, she swallowed it slowly, as much as her mouth could take, then came back up, leaving a strand of saliva hanging from the tip. Then she picked up the pace: in and out, sucking hard, squeezing the base with her hand and using her tongue on the glans each time she reached the top. Nadia, who had knelt between Carla’s increasingly open legs, did the same to her: she ate her pussy hungrily, her tongue lying flat against her lips, sucking her clitoris with closed lips and then giving her long licks from ass to top. Carla clutched the armrests and moaned without restraint. We lasted only a few minutes like that. Carla, fed up with her passive role, suddenly stood up, grabbed my hand—I had Bruna’s saliva shining on my cock as it protruded above my thong—and dragged me out of the room.
***
She walked down the corridor with determined steps toward the room at the back, the one with the restraints. Once inside, she pushed me against a wooden cross leaning against the wall and, using straps hanging from its ends, fastened my wrists and ankles. Bruna and Nadia followed us, surprised and unable to quite believe the turn things had taken.
Carla bit my neck, ran her tongue over my chest, and tugged on one of the chains I was wearing until she made me arch my back. She yanked down my thong and freed my cock, stiff and throbbing against my belly. She crouched down, licked me from balls to tip with her tongue spread flat, spat on me, and then took my entire cock into her mouth in one thrust. She sucked me furiously, her cheeks hollowing with each pull, until she made me tremble against the straps. Then she turned toward the other two, her mouth gleaming and a drop of my pre-cum hanging from her lip.
“Now it’s your turn,” she ordered. “Suck him properly. Don’t let him come yet.”
They both crouched down at once. Bruna spread my legs as far as the straps allowed and put my balls in her mouth, sucking them one by one while licking my perineum downward. Nadia took care of my cock: she swallowed it whole, all the way down, until I felt the tip pressing against her throat. She gagged for a moment, pulled back, and took me in again more slowly, spitting and using her hand to accompany her mouth. Then they took turns: one sucked me from top to bottom while the other licked my balls, switching every few seconds and leaving me no way of knowing who would be next. Carla watched standing up, one hand between her legs, rubbing her clitoris with two fingers, directing the scene with her eyes alone. When she realized I was too close to the edge, my thighs already trembling, she yanked both women away by the hair, positioned herself with her back to me, lifted her skirt, and impaled herself on my cock in one hard drop, until I felt her ass collide with my pelvis.
“Ah, fuck,” she moaned. “That’s it, that’s how I take your whole cock.”
She began to rise and fall, riding me while I was tied to the cross, unable to move, forced to let her fuck me. Every time she dropped down, she clenched her pussy around my cock with her muscles and made me grit my teeth. Bruna stood in front of her and bit her nipples through the leather dress, while Nadia crouched down and licked Carla’s clitoris as she rode me, her tongue brushing my cock too each time it slid out and back in.
“Not yet,” Carla whispered, turning her head and pulling away abruptly when she felt I was about to explode inside her. “We’ll finish this somewhere else.”
She untied me. We changed with my cock still hard, straining against my trousers, and left the club. The night breeze dried our sweat. Bruna and Nadia pretended to be angry that we had left them merely watching, and Carla ended the argument by inviting them to the hotel to finish the party somewhere more intimate. They accepted without a second thought.
***
The hotel was two blocks away. We crossed the lobby trying not to laugh and stepped into the elevator. As if they had rehearsed it, all three women threw themselves at me at once. We hadn’t even gone up one floor, and I was already naked and hard, Carla’s mouth on mine, Bruna’s hand stroking my cock, and Nadia kneeling to suck my balls. I had to tell them we had reached our floor.
We stumbled into the room. Carla pushed me onto the bed.
“Look what you’ve accomplished with your games,” she said, already undressing and tossing the leather dress onto the floor.
All three women stripped in seconds. Carla sat on my face, her soaked pussy directly over my mouth, and I stuck out my tongue to eat her whole: I licked her lips, opened them with my fingers, and pushed my tongue as far inside as it would go; then I moved up to her clitoris and gently bit it until she rubbed herself against me, letting out a long moan. Nadia attended to me with her mouth, sucking my cock with both hands wrapped around it, while Bruna kissed my wife’s breasts and licked her hard nipples. Carla came on my face almost at once, trembling and smothering me for a while with her wet pussy before climbing off.
Then they changed positions, and Bruna was the one who climbed on top, tight around me, marking every movement with her hands on my chest. My cock slid all the way in and out of her, and she squeezed herself with her knees against my ribs, making short hops and then slow circles with her hips. Her enhanced tits moved in front of my face, and I grabbed them with both hands, pinching her nipples while she moaned louder and louder. I let her use me, unable to think. This surpassed anything we had ever imagined.
Then I saw Nadia on all fours on the bed, offering her ass to her friend, and I took advantage of the moment—Bruna rose off my cock, leaving it gleaming with her juices—to position myself behind Nadia and enter her slowly, earning a long moan halfway between complaint and pleasure. I gripped her hips with both hands and began fucking her all the way, pulling almost completely out and then driving back in until the impact of my balls against her pussy echoed throughout the room. I thrust eagerly, my fingers digging into her skin, when I felt two firm hands gripping my hips and a tongue traveling over me from behind, between my buttocks, licking me slowly and insistently. Then, amid my confusion, something harder pushed its way between my cheeks. It was Carla, wearing the harness we had bought on our last getaway, thrusting into me dryly and decisively, driving into me in rhythm while I continued fucking Nadia without being able to stop.
Every time Carla pushed me from behind, I entered Nadia more forcefully, and the circuit had all three of us moaning at once. Bruna got underneath Nadia, lying on her back, and ate her pussy while I kept giving it to her, Bruna’s tongue brushing my cock each time it came out. I couldn’t take any more. I let out a moan and came without restraint, unloading inside Nadia while Carla continued fucking me from behind, shaken by an orgasm that merged into another when she finished pushing the dildo all the way into me and pressed herself against my ass. I felt my cum spurting out, running down my cock and balls, splashing onto Bruna’s face as she kept sucking from below.
When I opened my eyes, one of them was filming the scene with her phone. She came closer, kissed my ear, and whispered:
“I hope you enjoy the memory.”
Carla, beside me, smiled like someone who had just won a game she had been planning for months. And I knew, without saying it, that this would not be our last getaway.
