The Orgy Where My Student Lost Her Shame

After spending the afternoon the three of us in the bathtub, we sat down in the living room to have tea and let our skin cool off. Camila still had damp hair and that look of not quite knowing what she was doing in my house. Renata, on the other hand, was already completely at ease, sprawled on the sofa with her robe open.

—Camila, we brought you a present —I said, while Renata, thrilled, handed her a box with a huge bow—. Open it.

Inside was a red lace set: bra and thong with embroidery, garter belt and stockings. She went silent, tempted and excited at the same time. Her eyes even welled up.

—And I can wear all this? —she asked, as if we had given her something forbidden.

—Of course you can. You’re going to look gorgeous. Try everything on.

—I don’t know…

—Pretty girl, you have a body that makes people jealous. Big, firm tits, a small waist, wide hips, and an ass to die for. The only thing you’re missing is daring to look at yourself.

She took off her robe and stood naked in front of us. The three of us hesitated for a second, but duty first, so we helped her dress. We put the stockings and garter belt on her, then the thong that barely covered her, and we adjusted her breasts spilling over the bra. She looked perfect.

—Put on some heels and look at yourself in the mirror.

Camila was dazzled. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, something the rest of us already knew perfectly well. She was a splendid woman, ready to devour the world.

—And where am I supposed to wear this? —she asked in a thin voice.

—That’s already sorted. The three of us are going to an orgy.

—You’re crazy! I’m not letting just anybody touch me.

—Don’t exaggerate, you’re dying for some man to make you feel something. And nobody forces you into anything. If you don’t like someone, they don’t insist. Those are the rules.

—Well, yes, I’m dying for it… but I don’t know how it works.

—I know a group that organizes open parties in different places. I’ve been several times. They’re amazing.

—You filthy thing, you could have taken me! —Renata reproached me, pouting.

—I was planning to, forgive me. —I kissed her on the mouth to shut her up.

—The place has a pretty strict dress code. For us: miniskirts, fitted blouses, some transparency, corsets, short dresses. Anything that makes you look desirable. For them: no baggy clothes, no caps, no sneakers, no gym wear. We’re not wasting the night on someone dressed like a clown.

—So many hoops to jump through, babe.

—They’re practical rules. In a little while we’re going to be naked or just in stockings and garters. Whatever you wear, make sure it’s easy to take off. Sex is offered or asked for, but never forced. And everyone can watch and take part.

—I’m embarrassed to be like this in front of so many people…

—Camila, if they see you as you are now, they’ll want you to the bone. And we’ll both be with you until you get comfortable.

—Okay. If you’re coming with me, I’ll go.

***

We arrived on time, at ten-thirty, in tight clothes that were easy to shed. The club was sumptuous, top-notch: big sofas, huge round cushions to flop onto, everything arranged in a kind of cubicle open on two sides so anyone could watch. Low-intensity colored lights and a well-stocked bar. Even though it was a couples’ place, there were also single men and women. The looks were burning, and the dress code only multiplied the desire.

At eleven, a female voice announced over the speakers that the entrance was closed and the games could begin.

We settled at the bar, perched on tall stools that, seated that way, left our asses exposed. While we drank martinis, I let my eyes roam the room. Girls already naked dancing, couples and threesomes ready for action, the inevitable voyeurs and gropers drifting around, brushing against bodies.

Renata was happy. Camila watched everything in delight, much less nervous than the afternoon before.

—I love everything, girls. But I don’t know where to start.

—The mirror game —I told her.

—How?

—Do what I do, at least to get going.

—I’ll follow you to the end.

A mature man with tanned skin and gray hair, very well put together, had been watching me from the far end of the bar. He came over and spoke to me with a faraway accent.

—Buenas. I’m Andrés, from Seville. And you are…?

—Mariela. From here, around the corner.

—You’re gorgeous, and so sweet —he said, caressing my ass without asking permission. I let him and looked at the bulge in his pants. He caught my gesture right away—. Do you like what you see?

—I like it —I answered without hesitation—. And so do they. —I pointed to my accomplices.

—Then there’ll be enough for everyone. But you’re coming with me —he said, squeezing one of my breasts.

—Hi! Am I interrupting? —Two more men suddenly appeared, his countrymen.

—Rubén, Iván! How are you? —Andrés greeted them—. This is Mariela. And these are Camila and Renata. Girls, these two are trustworthy.

Their eyes kept dropping to my two protégées, pure restrained desire. Renata didn’t waste time: she went after Rubén and they disappeared among the cubicles. And Camila, perhaps not to be left behind, moved toward Iván puffing out her chest, with her tits spilling out of the lace. I didn’t recognize her.

***

With everything set in motion, I could devote myself to Andrés.

—I want your cock —I begged almost, while rubbing his bulge.

—It’s all yours, pretty girl. For you to lick it, suck it, and play with it.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Camila repeating my gestures with her Spaniard. She learns fast, I thought. Andrés kissed me hungrily and pressed my hand against his crotch.

They took us to two adjoining cubicles, so Camila and I could catch each other out of the corner of our eyes. She no longer needed the mirror: she was letting herself be licked between the legs, head thrown back.

Andrés took off my dress and left me in my underwear and garter belt. I pulled his pants down. He guided me gently to his sex.

—What a pleasure to see you on your knees in that lingerie —he murmured—. You drive me crazy.

I took him into my mouth slowly, savoring him, and then deeper, until I was short of breath. I started touching myself while I sucked him. He grabbed my hair and set the rhythm himself, unhurried but firm.

—That’s it, look me in the eyes while you do it —he said.

—I want more —I answered when I could.

I pulled away, took off my thong, and got on all fours to offer him my ass. Only then did I realize we already had an audience: a young man was stroking his blonde girlfriend while they both watched us; others, farther on, were touching each other in the dim light.

—Please, I can’t take it anymore —I told him.

I felt him enter with firm thrusts, testing at first and then letting himself go completely. I asked him to spank my ass and he left it red and burning while he fucked me. I opened my mouth to cry out with pleasure, and a stranger took advantage of that to press his sex against me. I took him gladly.

The blonde lay down beside me so she could be taken care of, and suddenly I felt her searching for me with her hand and mouth. It was too much to resist. I asked Andrés to finish, while I took care of the other one and her almost at the same time. The three of us came trembling and collapsed on the cushion to catch our breath.

***

We got up to grab some drinks. Apparently we had put on a good show, because people were looking at us and whispering. Some brushed against me as they passed. Crossing the room, I saw Camila being handled by two men at once, completely surrendered. And Renata, in some corner, laughing her head off in someone else’s arms. Everything was going well.

—Why do you like letting go like that so much? —Andrés asked me as we sat down.

—Because I can, because I enjoy it, and because I’m good at it. I wasn’t always like this. I learned that repressing myself got me nowhere, so I let the woman I really am come out. Free, intense, without limits.

—Good for me. But it also makes me want to dominate you, to test you.

—What a great proposal —I told him, holding his gaze.

A guy named Darío joined us, sat down beside me, and the conversation turned to the only thing that mattered there. While Andrés told him how uninhibited I was, Darío started stroking my breasts. I returned the gesture. His friend Bruno also appeared, coming over delighted. I stepped down from the stool and took care of the two of them.

—If we’re going to do this seriously, let’s go to the play room —Darío suggested—. With one condition.

—Tell me.

—Tonight I don’t want ladies. I want you to give yourself completely.

—Done —Andrés said, and the others nodded.

***

The adjoining room was designed for power play: armchairs with straps, a wall with accessories, two women with whips strolling around like they owned the place. As soon as I went in, they guided me to a round chair and strapped me in, legs open, face down, with my torso hanging over the edge. Defenseless and yet powerful: I was the center of every gaze.

—Easy, we’re going to have fun —Andrés said, stroking my back before starting.

As always, the cubicle filled with curious onlookers. Darío positioned himself in front of me and gently guided every approach. Andrés, behind me, alternated caresses and thrusts, measuring my reactions, attentive to every breath. When one of the dominatrices marked my skin with the whip, she did it just slightly, and then ran her tongue over the mark as if asking forgiveness.

—Do you like it, pretty girl? —she asked in my ear.

—I love it. More —I begged.

They brought a bottle of freshly opened sparkling wine and we shared it laughing, toasting all together, splashing ourselves. The game heated up without ever losing that silent agreement that my desire ruled there, not theirs. They untied my legs and then strapped them back up bent; every change of position was an excuse for a new caress.

—You’re incredible —Darío said, running his hands over me—. I can’t stop looking at you.

After a while they freed me completely. Andrés took me by the hair, not roughly, and brought me to the edge again and again, until I no longer knew where one ended and the other began. We finished together, in a mess of sweaty bodies and moans, while around us a handful of strangers enjoyed the show we were giving them.

***

And then, suddenly, the cavalry arrived. Camila and Renata, tousled and radiant, climbed onto the armchair with me. The three of us together again, laughing like little girls who had just pulled off a huge prank. We kissed each other while the rest of the room, still on fire, couldn’t take its eyes off us.

We were exhausted, sprawled on the giant cushion. We stroked each other to slowly come back to the world, and then we went to open a bottle of champagne just for us, to toast the night and Camila.

—I told you you were dying for it —I whispered to her.

She laughed, still with shining eyes, and for the first time in a long time she didn’t ask my permission for anything. She had killed the witch that had been trapping her, and that witch was never coming back.