What Happened in the VIP Booth Wasn’t Planned
My name is Carla and, if you’ve made it this far, you already know more or less what my situation is. I moved alone to another city to study, and since summer started I’ve been living far from my boyfriend, who stayed in my hometown. Almost without realizing it, I started sleeping with other guys behind his back. I don’t want to keep repeating myself and telling the same thing over and over, so this time I’m going with something different.
I’m not tall, I’m not even five foot three, but I like the way I look. I’ve got big breasts without being exaggerated, and a firm ass that draws more attention than it seems to at first glance. I’m saying that now because later it’s going to matter.
This happened a few days after some foreign guys I’d met went back to their country. Through them I ended up getting into a new group, almost all of them from abroad, with money to burn and an appetite for partying that never seemed to run out. I’d hooked up a little with a couple of them, nothing serious, and it was exactly that that dragged me into the night I’m about to tell you about.
Three of them invited me to a huge nightclub where, they said, they had a VIP area reserved. While I was getting ready, I was on the phone with Diego, my boyfriend. I told him I was tidying up the apartment before getting into bed. I’d never gone out that much at night until that summer, so the truth would have sounded incredibly weird to him.
While we chatted about how our day had gone, I put on one of the tops I’d bought myself: black, with a deep neckline that didn’t just show off the top, but the middle too, because the fabric opened up in the center and was held together by metal rings. On the bottom, some short, tight white-and-black leggings that were anything but sporty. Underneath, a black lace thong, with no bra, which with that top was unnecessary.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drop by on a video call before you go to sleep?” Diego asked, oblivious to everything.
“No need, I’m dead tired,” I lied, while I put two condoms in my purse, just in case.
I was prepared for something, even if I still didn’t know for how much.
When I arrived, two of the guys were waiting for me at the door. They walked me inside, repeating how pretty I looked, even though their eyes never really aimed at my face. It gave me a slightly perverse kind of pleasure to feel the people in line following me with their eyes as I passed by: lots of looks at my cleavage and, I hope, quite a few at my ass.
Upstairs I saw they hadn’t been exaggerating. The VIP room was a huge space full of sofas and low tables, with a balcony overlooking the DJ booth and the entire dance floor. On the tables there were already bottles of expensive liquor lined up. The place gave us a privacy and an air of exclusivity that, I’ll admit, I loved.
I was introduced to the rest. I forgot almost everyone’s name except the other girl’s, Brenda. There were two women and ten men. All taller than me, several pretty well built, and none of them ugly: some average, others genuinely hot. Brenda was gorgeous too, with shiny brown hair and as short as I was. To their delight, she was wearing just as much cleavage as I was, although her tits were much bigger and were spilling out unapologetically.
Things started out calmly, to my surprise. Brenda and I hit it off right away, and the guys, although they didn’t hold back at all when they complimented us, were relaxed. That said, the “accidental” brushes against our bodies kept multiplying every minute.
I’ll admit that when I accepted the invitation I already figured there was going to be sex in the end. But as the night went on and I saw that no more girls were arriving, I started to get uneasy. I’d thought about sleeping with some guy I liked, not being one of two for ten. I told myself I’d leave if the situation got out of hand, though the truth is none of them seemed aggressive, and deep down the idea turned me on.
The alcohol and the dirty talk did their work, on them and on us. The conversation got hotter. The compliments became more and more explicit until they were straight-up direct, and I didn’t mind: they were horny and focused on every move we made. Every time they filled our glasses they’d move a little closer, and nobody was even pretending not to look where they wanted to look anymore.
One of them suggested a card game and, the second he said it, I knew it was going to end up sexual. He pulled out a deck and had us sit in a circle. Everyone drew a card and laid it face down; then they were all turned over and even and odd were counted. The group with the fewest cards had to vote for someone from their own side to take a dare with an ice cube. If seven drew even and three odd, those three got to choose who would take the punishment.
Since there were only two girls and votes were required, you didn’t need to be very smart to see where all this was going. When they lost among themselves, they voted for one of their own to keep an ice cube on the back of his neck for a couple of rounds. But if one of us ended up on the losing side, the vote was unanimous.
***
Brenda and I got dares that started out funny and got hotter and hotter. First, holding the ice cube on our tongues for a round; then she had to take it out of my mouth with hers, and a little later the other way around. Before long, the punishment became shoving ice cubes down our cleavage every time we lost.
I had to go first. One of them picked up a cube and placed it between my breasts, making sure to rub his hand all over them. The cold shoved in there made my whole skin prickle, and when the second one followed right after, I didn’t complain.
Brenda had the same thing happening to her. We both had our cleavage full of melting cubes, soaking our legs and leaving the floor puddled. When there was no more room between our tits, they started putting them inside our tops, from the front. They’d pull the fabric aside a little and place the ice, taking the chance to leave our nipples out for a second and brush them with their fingers.
In no time my top was stuffed full of ice cubes and I could feel the cold stabbing at my areolas. My nipples were standing rock-hard through the fabric. Brenda was the same, if not worse. I suggested they take them out, using the excuse that we were flooding half the room. They all volunteered at once, and after an argument and a couple of rock-paper-scissors rounds, the two winners removed the rest of the ice with their hands, groping everything they could on the way. Their warm fingers on my frozen skin set me on fire. Beside me, Brenda was biting her lip while the other guy shoved his hands into her top without bothering too much to look for any ice.
It was her who suggested the next thing. The guys would each draw a card, and the one with the highest would come over, press her tits together, and she would pour liquor in the middle, forming a little pool from which he could drink.
The idea heated me up a lot, and them too, no question, so I joined in. Each of us went to a sofa with five men and we formed two groups. I sat with two on either side of me and three in front, and they started dealing cards.
The first winner, a really hot blond, stood in front of me and squeezed my breasts, still cool from the previous game, kneading them over the top. One of the guys beside me offered gallantly to pour the alcohol into my cleavage for me, and I let him. The liquid formed a little pool between my pressed-together tits and the blond drank it, making sure to lick up the very last drop.
Soon the cards were forgotten and the five of them took turns drinking from my cleavage. The ones on my sides started sliding their hands over my hips, until they slipped them under my leggings and thong.
I could feel not only their faces buried between my breasts, but also fingers belonging to different men caressing me between the legs and slipping farther and farther inside. I looked over at the other group, hot and a little embarrassed at the same time, and saw that Brenda’s top was already on the floor. Her huge tits were out in the open, the guys were pouring alcohol over her and licking it off while she devoured another guy’s mouth.
The little modesty I had left evaporated with that image. Without thinking, I took off my top, freed my tits, and pulled down my leggings, leaving myself in nothing but the lace thong, which at some point over the next few minutes was torn off too. I took a swig of the vodka they’d been using and poured it over my bare breasts. In no time several mouths were gripping, sucking, and biting my nipples, while a bunch of hands competed to knead my ass and slide between my legs. My only job was to spread myself wide, push my chest out, and enjoy it.
***
I don’t know how long I was like that, letting them do whatever they wanted. At one point they made me stand up and I saw that, besides having lost my thong somewhere along the way, they’d lost their clothes too: five hard cocks in front of me. It took me a few seconds to understand that they weren’t just fingering me in the pussy and the ass anymore, they were putting lube on both ends.
I didn’t have much anal experience and I got a little scared when I felt the lube back there, but desire beat fear. When I saw that one of them had put on a condom, I shoved him against a backless sofa, made him lie down, and without wasting a second I sat on top of him and slowly sank down onto him. He kissed me and only pulled back to grab my tits hard. In no time hands spread my ass cheeks with their thumbs and something thick and warm started pressing in from behind.
I was overloaded with sensation, riding like a maniac while another guy was fucking my ass. The other three stood in front of me, moving their cocks in front of my face. I didn’t know much about anal, but I knew plenty about this, so I dedicated myself to sucking them off in turns, using the hand that wasn’t in my mouth. At one point they tried to put two in at once, but they were too thick and, to my frustration, it was impossible.
The one I was riding squeezed my tits until they hurt a little, though at that point I barely noticed, thrusting upward as hard as he could and coming inside the condom. Right after that the guy behind me yanked my hair, forcing me to let go of the one I was sucking, and I let out a long moan when I realized that one hadn’t used anything: I felt him spilling inside me.
The others quickly pulled him aside to take his place. While I tried to catch my breath, instead of repeating the position, two of them lifted me up between them, holding me with my legs spread wide, squeezed between their bodies and with both cocks buried to the hilt, one in front and one behind.
They used me as their toy for a good while. I felt slaps on my ass, squeezes on my tits, love bites on my nipples. The only thing I could do was move with their rhythm, trying to take them as deep as possible. My tongue hung out and saliva dripped onto my breasts, which bounced with every thrust, and none of it mattered to me. Soon I felt them coming, burning, inside me.
They kept taking turns with short pauses in between. One of them got me on my knees, threw my head back, and positioned himself to shove it down my throat from above, almost vertically. I didn’t know whether to breathe or swallow, and he ended up emptying himself straight down my throat, leaving me no choice.
At some point they threw me onto something soft and I realized it was Brenda: my face ended up between her huge tits. I clung to them and sucked one nipple hard; she, instead of saying anything, let out a muffled moan. I looked up and saw that one guy was fucking her all the way to the throat. I sat up a little, still holding on to her breasts, and asked for more. In seconds they granted my wish: one made me swallow his with no mercy and, a little later, another one penetrated my ass.
From there on I don’t remember the night clearly. Just cocks and hands taking turns using me, and every so often my new adventure partner’s tits bouncing into my field of vision.
***
At some point I passed out or fell asleep, because the next thing I clearly remember was waking up with some guys leaving the room and others talking with a couple of the nightclub’s security guys. My skin was a little sticky, although it was obvious they’d cleaned me with something damp. Brenda was gone already. I got up to look for my clothes.
One of the security guys handed them to me and, even though I was dead tired, the way he looked at me as he passed me my underwear got me hot again. I offered to let him put on a condom and have a good time with me. He told me no, he was working.
A pair of tits pressed against him and a hand slipped between his legs made him change his mind. When the two security guys were done with me a while later, I got dressed, and one of the guys drove me home, exhausted but happy.
