Private Party #2 - Part 1 (not Mr #4 at the club)

Private Party #2

Part 1

I’m writing this one fresh from Private Party #2. My pussy sore and swollen after a final reclamation fuck from Mr. I guess today was a busy one, so get comfortable for a bit of a long read!

The Telegram Chat

I really tried my best to get involved in the pre-event Telegram chat this time, though I still found myself feeling out of place. So many naked and sexy selfies being shared, and for me, I just don’t think I’m that person—someone who takes graphic photos of those lips and shares them with 100+ strangers. From my snooping and reading, there were a couple of people who caught my interest, and I did my best to contribute where I could. I wanted to push myself to be bolder this time, even if that meant lingering on the edges of the conversation rather than diving into the explicit exchanges. It felt like a window into another world, one I admired and was intrigued by but I definitely wasn’t part of.

London Plumber stood out as one we spoke to sporadically through the week. Tall, experienced. He was definitely attractive and he said he’d find us on the day. That was definitely something to look forward to.

However the crown for the one that I was most intrigued by was Tattoo Man. He joined the chat late Thursday evening, mentioning that it was his first-ever club experience alongside some selfies showing muscles for days and a body adorned with more tattoos than I had ever seen in real life. I quickly messaged, “Wow. You are stunning,” in the group chat and he slid right on over into my DMs without hesitation. It may have broken the rules as he didn’t get permission but I wasn’t mad in the slightest. Built AND covered head to toe in tattoos, he was absolutely a fantasy. I offered for him to speak to us at the club, assuming he’d get inundated with offers by others. He seemed nice, albeit reserved and I found myself looking forward to meeting him, imagining what he’d be like in person if he did come to find us.

The Prep

This month’s theme required wearing trainers. Me, in flats? It made getting excited for dressing up that much harder. I feel sexy in heels, like a confident, amplified version of myself. But in flats, I’m just me. And a dowdy, mumsy version of myself even in a push-up bra and short skirt. I agonised over my dress-down outfit as I couldn’t keep it on theme and ended up packing way too many options. By the time we got to the club, my backpack was bursting with possibilities, including my trusty heels for when everyone was busy playing and wouldn't notice the off-theme attire. I couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious about my decision to tone it down—it felt like such a departure from my usual approach to making me feel more confident and elevated.

We arrived to a full car park, with the noise and energy spilling out of the club. I dropped Mr off at the door, parked up, and hurried to the changing room. We were ready for the first foray around the club with drinks in hand.

The first wander

On our first walk I spotted a nervous Tattoo Man on the perimeter. I smiled and said hello. His nerves palpable. We didn’t stop straight away but he stayed relatively close. Another very tall gent greeted me with a warm smile saying ‘Hello again’ and my brain searched for the flicker of recognition – awkward! Positioned at the end of the bar I saw Tom the Dom move towards us and I greeted him warmly. Feeling more assured in his company. I introduced him to Tattoo Man but exited from the conversation myself. I wasn’t in a Tom the Dom mood today! I clocked the London Plumber across the room and headed across to introduce myself in person. He didn’t seem interested to talk so headed back to Mr and Tattoo Man and we sat down and chatted. When Tattoo Man went to take his phone out of his pocket to show us something we quickly filled him in on some of the rules – no phones being one of them! He took the feedback with such grace that I was sure I wanted to play, if he did.

By midday the bar was thinning out and play was kicking off. It was earlier than I usually changed but I was ready to ditch the trainers. I headed to the changing rooms.

My crotchless tights were hopelessly tangled, leaving me naked for far too long as I detangled them in the changing room. I chatted awkwardly with The African from the last party who clearly hoped I’d be up for some fun. His confidence gave me the ick. He got lucky last time riding on Iron Man’s charm and I was not interested in a re-run. Once dressed in my now untangled fishnet crotchless tights, fishnet bralette, French knickers, mini black dress, huge heels, and lace robe, I was feeling sexier. My nerves were finally settling, giving way to the usual excitement. I hoped Tattoo Man approved of the change of outfit and wouldn’t be intimidated by me growing 6 inches if we saw him again.

Hiding behind the dancefloor.

We grabbed some more drinks and wandered around the bar heading towards the dance floor again. Hidden behind the empty DJ booth I spotted him sat back in a comfy chair with a BBW sitting cross legged on the floor sucking his cock. I watched them casually definitely thinking I wanted it to be me. I locked eyes with him, dancing for Mr and then with a wave of confidence that must have come from outer space I bent over at the waist and pulled my knickers down with my arse in Mr’s face and my eyes locked with Tattoo Man’s. Being naked down below I took the chance to recline in the sex swing.  I could no longer see Tattoo Man but I knew I was in his line of sight. Mr burying his face into my pussy, my long legs held high, it was intoxicating thinking that he was watching. Was I imagining or creating this unspoken tension between us or was there really electricity in his gaze? We moved to a leather stool next to the swing. I knelt down servicing Mr’s cock with my mouth. My eyes flicking up to see where Tattoo Man’s attention was. He was still watching. Mr bent me over the stool and slid his hard cock into me. I enjoyed him fucking me but I wanted someone else in that moment.

He finished up with the BBW and made his way over so we stopped fucking to talk to him. There was no confusion, no doubt, we both wanted to play. He asked if he could eat me and I shook my head. So, he pulled his trousers back down and now it was my turn to suck his cock. Standing there, him looking down at me, I focused on deepthroating his big hard cock, locking eyes with him and enjoying the effect I was having. He had just spent 10-20 minutes being sucked, and as I would find out shortly, made to cum but his cock was rock solid. He asked Mr to play with me too so I stood up and bent at the waist as Mr bent down and had his fingers and tongue working on my pussy and arsehole. That is not something I would usually allow him to do but I was in the zone with Tattoo Man and Mr could do anything he wanted to me in that moment. Tattoo Man sat back on the stool, I moved to my knees still worshipping every single part of his cock and balls. I watched him lean back and close his eyes in pure pleasure. Damn, this is one of the most enjoyable experiences so far. We pause and he asks what he can do to me – I want to submit entirely but my confidence is not to that level yet.

He asked if he could make me squirt. My hesitant face must have intrigued him because he insisted on trying. His confidence, combined with the sharpness of his intensity, left me breathless. How could I not let him try?!

He lays me down on the stool. I feel vulnerable. It took him all of ten seconds. Ten seconds, and I was soaked. The stool, the floor, my clothes—all drenched. HOLY FUCK. I could hardly believe how quickly he’d done it, and it left me feeling both elated and slightly embarrassed in the best way possible. I laughed, half-shocked and not knowing what to do now.

Time to clean up!!