***
The email said Park Avenue. I gave the cabbie the address and I was on my way. New York was busy compared to the small town I grew up in. With so many people walking the streets and so many bright lights it made me dizzy. I noticed the change of scenery on the drive from Queens into Manhattan. Finally, the cabbie stopped in front of a posh building with a doorman standing at the entrance. I was a little out of my league, but I exited the cab, squaring my shoulders, and inhaling a deep breath. I made my way to the door and smiled at the young handsome doorman giving him my password. The doorman smiled and nodded, escorting me to the elevator. I could practically feel him undressing me with his eyes, and a part of me enjoyed the attention. The elevator rose up to the penthouse. Whoever it was throwing this party must be swimming in it. A sudden wave of nerves washed over me and my insides began to tremble. I didn’t want to go in on my own, back home I had Nessa. I tried to convince her to come on this trip with me, but something held her back and it was something she didn’t want to discuss. I knew about secrets. I knew what it was like to hold them inside you. I couldn’t push her. Now I was here by myself about to enter a party. I couldn’t turn back, what I needed was so close I couldn’t walk away. It was the only way to get myself to feel, to interact with people, to get out from inside my head.
The vibrant world of sex parties saved me. People weren’t judged because of their preferences and the environment was welcoming. As I grasped the handle, the front door opened and I held my breath, wondering what awaited on the other side. I walked inside directly into an extravagant living space, lavish and grand. The penthouse was huge with a winding staircase to the second floor. The furniture looked imported, with gold accents on everything from the tables and chairs to the door handles. The carpets were exotic and the lighting was exquisite with large crystal chandeliers that were dimmed and set off a shimmer into the dark room. So this was how the other half lived. I never knew, most families where I came from were working class and made just enough to get by. There was no money for fancy jewelry and new cars, and yet most were content with what they had, my family had been content at one time too, before everything fell apart.
I sauntered over to the coat check and slipped off my coat, feeling a little self-conscious. I knew I shouldn’t feel this way, I never had before, but this was new in a different way. Maybe they played by different rules.
As I gauged my surroundings, I noticed that the penthouse was filled with people but it wasn’t overly packed. My connection in Toronto said, ‘Everyone had to try a New York party once in their life,’ but it was more than I expected. Waitresses walked around in black lace bras and matching black lace thongs, handing out hors d’oeuvres and champagne, while an addictive beat thumped in the background.
These parties weren’t really about the drinking, even though, the champagne was welcome to calm my nerves and warm my veins. The rules to these parties were that ladies could come on their own, but men had to come with a date. As my eyes roamed the room I tried for nonchalance as I took in the beautiful forms present. Ladies were in exquisite lingerie of fine lace and beading, with beautiful ribbons adorning their exotic bodies. The men were just as sensuous with strong hard bodies and wearing some form of boxer shorts or buck-naked. Watching them was making my mouth water and my body hum with need. It was still quite early and people were mingling, although it appeared that an orgy had formed along one of the couches. The fabric of the couch was a rich cream with golden wood moldings along the frame. The couch was long and large with a high frame back. Everything about this place felt like it belonged in a museum. As I watched four couples lined up along the couch having sex, my need for my own release grew.
The first couple was a gorgeous guy with a ripped body and short buzzed brown hair. He had a blonde lady with the perfect amount of curves on top of him, riding his cock. Her head flailed back and her blonde hair swished in the air, adding to the sexual ambiance in the room. The couple next to them was an exotic mix, a brunette with tanned skin and mid-length hair. She was sitting spread eagle while a blonde man with pale skin was licking between her legs. As my eyes roamed to the next couple my need to play heightened.
The third couple was a woman with jet-black hair, she looked Asian with the perfect body and small tits like mine. She was on her knees sucking off a dark skinned man; he looked to be a mix of Caucasian and African American. His hands tousled her hair as he watched her take in his large cock. The look on his face was one of carnal lust.
Within minutes of arriving, my skin warmed and I was successfully pulled from my lonely reality, albeit temporarily, the emptiness in the pit of my stomach would never cease. The empty breaths I took to pass another day. The pain of loss never wavering. As the sexual energy thrummed throughout the room, I found it hypnotizing and therapeutic. I strolled around in search of an available prospect, a brief connection. I slipped off my red dress, exposing a red lace bra with matching panties and my red stilettos. Did I look cheap? Maybe, my lingerie was lacking in the intricate embroidery department as most of the ensembles this evening were dressed in crystals and ribbons beyond what I’ve ever seen. The level of wealth didn’t throw me off. These parties weren’t for the purposes of displaying wealth. They were for pleasure and beauty. I was by no means vain. I felt my own inadequacies with my small breasts, but I was comfortable enough in my own skin, and my body hummed as it usually did when the time for play was near.
This crowd seemed familiar with one another, and on some level I felt like the outsider that I was. They looked upper class and maybe a part of the same social circles. As the night progressed more people were hooking up, and I took on the role of onlooker. I didn’t like this role, despite the fact that it was socially acceptable, a lot of the partners liked to give a good show. It was like watching porn, only live, but for me it didn’t curb my needs or fill my lonely heart.
I climbed the long staircase, my hand caressing the unique golden railing that felt cool under my fingers. I couldn’t help but wonder if it was real gold. Feeling slightly tense to be walking through a stranger's home, I cautiously roamed the house. I counted five bedrooms in all, one with a locked door. Each room was similar to the next, all with large king sized beds nestled between beautiful 19th Century French furniture. The beds were adorned in intricate tapestries and gorgeous people were fucking and playing all over them. The simultaneous orgasms strung through the room like a violinist stringing a rapid beat. My heart rate sped up as I felt a pang of jealousy. I wanted to feel alive and thrumming like them. The intense sexual energy was an overwhelming aphrodisiac I wanted to taste, but there were no prospects. Couples had swapped partners and were ‘playing’ out different fantasies. One couple had a man commanding a woman to give another guy a blow job. He was dictating how she should suck him off and which ways to move her tongue. The man was so turned on that his dick was pulsating in front of him.
When the other man came all over her mouth, her partner pushed himself into her and started fucking her from behind. I had to admit not every part of the scene enticed me. There were people and preferences I didn’t care for, but there were also people that gave me exactly what I wanted that appeared to need that connection, even if it was with a complete stranger. It didn’t really make sense when I thought too much about it, but then it did make sense when I reminded myself that everyone has needs, and some of us have a handicap on their heart. We are unable to give it away in that special way because we’ve seen and experienced devastation or have been traumatized so badly that our ability to love has been taken away, or buried deep down. I sometimes wonder why others are here. Are they like me? I know some of them are, you can see the distant look of pain in their eyes. Then, there are those that can’t stay in a monogamous relationship, and those that want to test out their fantasies, and all those reasons are perfect, real, and honest. It’s why I like to come. The people here don’t hide who they are, they just are.