Esther’s Secret Desires 4

Esther’s Secret Desires, Ch. 4
By Romeo

On a Saturday morning in mid-August I dropped my wife at the airport for her flight to London. Despite what Esther had said almost a month earlier, the awareness only then really began to sink in that I had more than ten days ahead of me during which I could live out my own secret desires. Giving in to the deeply felt yearning for what might be described as an erotic lifestyle, often dormant by the lack of stimulation, or suppressed by conventions. Not just for a few hours, or the odd afternoon, but for days on end.

As soon as I returned home, I took off my clothes, and changed into just a dark blue polo. That, or something similar, would be my outfit for the days to come, as long as I didn’t have to leave the house in order to run errands for example. The love wand wasn’t fully erect all the time, but seldom shrunk further than a semi-hard standby mode, with a string of pre-cum dangling between my legs.

Esther was evidently in the same mood. Whenever I spotted her, she was scantily clad, wearing something short and flimsy or transparent. If our eyes met, she squirmed and blew me a kiss.

Although we were just a stone’s throw apart, we both considered it unwise to pop across in the daytime. But that limitation was amply compensated, especially at night. During the day we heated each other up with short, steamy e-mails, like: “Can’t wait until it gets dark. I want your hot fucking gun in my cunt!” and “Craving to squeeze your adorable, cum-begging tits and suck your hard nipples!” In one of those messages she said, “Restrain yourself a bit with your wanking, sexy boy. Save your precious cum for me.”

It became standard practice in those days that she would sneak out of her house around eleven, dressed in a short black raincoat and high heels. She let herself in at my end through the garage. For that purpose I had given her the spare remote control of the electric door. Each night it was a surprise what she was wearing underneath. She showed herself off in various sets of beautiful, hot lingerie, followed by a skilled striptease. We toyed, sucked and fucked mainly in the living room, but also in the kitchen and the garden. One night she arrived with her coat hanging open, showing that the only other thing she had put on was a tiny black G-string. She said she was inspired by the high risen full moon to go for a walk together in the nearby park and play wicked exhibitionistic games there. Fucking included of course.

Eventually the day came when we would visit the nightclub in Amsterdam. In preparation of what would no doubt be a wild and long night, I considered it sensible to sleep for a few hours during the afternoon. And although I don’t need any supportive pills under normal circumstances, a bit of insurance would do no harm, in view of the performance that would be required of my slightly older toolkit in satisfying two sex-hungry tigresses.

Dusk had almost turned into darkness when I went to pick up the ladies at Belinda’s apartment, carrying a large, nicely wrapped box with exclusive Belgian chocolate bonbons. It was Esther who answered the door, wearing a rather tight-fitting black dress, reaching not more than five or six inches down her endless, tanned legs. It had spaghetti bands over the shoulders, and was very low cut at the front as well as at the back. That kind of dress had obviously not been designed for wearing a bra; rather for creating a side-boob view. I wondered what else she was not wearing.

The black patent-leather high-heeled shoes were open. Her makeup suited the occasion; there was more and darker eyeshadow than usual and both her finger and toenails were varnished in dark red. She had large silver rings in her ears and a string of pearls around her neck.

“Wow! You look smart,” she said, and kissed me, pushing a thigh between my legs.

“And you stunning!”

“And fuckable?”

“Extremely! But that goes without saying.”

“We’re almost ready. Belinda is still getting all dressed up.”

Hardly dressed up, Belinda appeared after a few minutes in a similar little black dress, equally short and with a small slit at one side.

“René, as you may have guessed, this is Belinda.”

“I’m so pleased to meet you!” She kissed me on the cheeks and hugged me, pressing her pelvis against mine and boldly grabbing my butt with one hand. “Oops! I shouldn’t do that when being introduced to such a gallant and distinguished looking gentleman…”

“It’s just a disguise,” I said.

The girls laughed. Giggled is a better description. From the way they behaved, I got the strong impression that they already had some fun together while preparing themselves, perhaps more than some; they seemed pretty worked up already.

“I brought you a trifle,” I went on, bringing out the box from behind my back. “To express my gratitude for your lovely hospitality.”

“How sweet! Thank you, you’re a gentleman indeed! And…my pleasure! I heard you two love birds had a good time, to put it mildly.”

“She demanded a full, in-depth record, as you can imagine,” Esther explained, rather superfluously.

The trip to Amsterdam would take about an hour. Obviously those two horny chicks had no intention to waste that time; naughty fun can also be enjoyed in a car, whether it is moving or not. Before we reached the highway, Esther lifted her butt and pulled up her dress. Then she kicked off her right shoe and put her foot on top of the dashboard, whereas her fingers went into her tiny black panties.

“Oh shit! Why on earth did I put these on?” Temporarily her foot came down and she peeled the small thing off.

“To be honest, it surprises me, too,” I said.

Belinda laughed. “I guess the only reason was to be able to take them off. Perhaps you haven’t noticed it yet, but this is the way she communicates sometimes. Now she’s telling two things, firstly ‘my cunny is bare now, in case you wondered,’ and secondly ‘you are kindly but urgently invited to touch it,’ am I right, dirty little slut?”

“Okay, okay. I admit it.”

“Now put that soaking little thing where you already planned to put it.”

She pushed it against my nose and then dropped it in my lap.

The distinct spicy scent of female love juices began to mingle with that of perfume, which had so far predominated. Looking in the rearview mirror I was tempted to tilt it a bit, in order to see what Belinda was doing, but for safety reasons I dismissed the thought. As if she could read my mind, Esther said on a slightly scolding tone, “Keep your eyes on the road, nosy boy! I will tell you what that lewd creature in the back is doing. She’s of course not wearing anything underneath her please-fuck-me little dress, and is fingering her succulent cunt lips and her cum-begging clitty. Besides, she’s pinching a nipple.”

It was predictable where Esther’s other hand would go at some point. She put her panties in the pocket of my jacket, pulled the zipper and took the rock-hard and pre-cum spewing flute out. Belinda leaned forward between the front seats.

“Now look at this hot, drooling fucking pistol!” Esther exclaimed, smearing the abundance of fluid over the head. “Isn’t it delicious?”

“Wow! Absolutely! You haven’t been exaggerating. Can’t wait to have that lovely candy in my mouth. Not to mention between my tits and in my hungry cunt.”

“You don’t have to worry about stains in this outfit,” Esther added, letting her fingertips carefully travel along the shaft.

“As long as you don’t make me cum. Both of you seem capable of making a man squirt just by talking the cream out of his balls, certainly when you’re operating in unison.” Laughter.

The receptionist at “The Red Fox” was kind and efficient. After the formalities were dealt with, we were escorted to a reserved table by one of the hostesses in a long black dress with high cut slits, both at the front and the back. Assisting them with their chairs, I had the ladies sit down on either side of me. It was just a weekday’s night, but nevertheless it was rather crowded in the club.

As to be expected, the place was dimly lit. The interior was tastefully decorated, and had the usual ingredients of a nightclub. The round damask covered tables were arranged in a semicircle around a dance floor. At the other end of it was a small stage. There was live music, provided by a pianist, a violinist and a bassist, grouped in a corner next to the stage.

The girls ordered champagne, but for a number of reasons I resolved to restrain myself and chose for a pint. The drinks were served from a bar behind us. Belinda explained that taking a seat at the bar usually implied the expression of interest in a contact with a hostess. Which might be followed by being led to a secluded, private area. Both sexes appeared to use that facility. But the bar was also the place to hook up for, say, a one night stand.

At most tables there was a mixture of males and females, except for the one next to ours. At it were two pretty ladies in their late twenties or early thirties, dressed in provocative short black dresses. I found it remarkable. I guessed it would be possible for those two unescorted girls to make a contact on the dance floor, if that was what they wanted, but then the bar seemed to be a more obvious place. On the other hand, that might not be on their mind at all. They were perhaps just curious (as well as bi-curious?) and wanted no more than to enjoy the atmosphere and the show. Although I wasn’t aware yet, paradoxically enough, I knew one of them, albeit at a distance. A long one.

As far as the entertainment required some guidance or introduction, for instance to announce an exotic dancer, or for the encouragement of a certain activity, that was done by a sort of ring mistress. But generally the guests were perfectly able to entertain themselves and each other. Couples went onto the dance floor whenever the music seemed inviting and they felt like it. And the actions on the floor were deliberately and openly “indecent”; bare tits were fondled, dresses were lifted, ass-cheeks revealed and squeezed, and hands disappeared into the seductive slits of long dresses, or into pants, either past a waistband, but more often an open fly. And obviously nobody blinked when a woman fully took out her partner’s hard cock.

It was fascinating and mind blowing to see what the ladies were wearing. Everything was designed for teasing and seducing. Some dresses covered the essential parts of their body, and were for the rest transparent. Short black leather or latex dresses had strategically placed zippers, inviting to be pulled. And they were.

“Oh my God! Anything does go in here indeed!” Esther commented. “How fantastic! How wicked, filthy and deliciously hot this place is!” She was watching the scene with a blissful, almost ecstatic gaze, and attending her pussy.

Belinda had meanwhile put a hand high on my upper thigh. I guessed that it wouldn’t stay there much longer. “Quite! So let’s join the party.” Her hand moved up, squeezed my erection briefly through the fabric and went inside. She grabbed the wet, throbbing tool and wanked slowly. Bringing her head near mine she looked into my eyes with a penetrating, lecherous glance. “My turn now to play with that lovely hot cock of yours, sweetie. Your magic flute as you so rightfully call it. Kiss me…” She offered me her slightly open sensual red lips. During that delicious and extremely hot tongue kiss she pulled the flute out completely.

Esther was moaning softly, regularly biting part of her lower lip. “Oh my God,” she repeated, “I’d better not touch my soaking wet cunt for a while. Otherwise I’m going to cum in a minute.”

“Don’t worry, little honeypot,” Belinda said after breaking the kiss. “It’s allowed here. They will even applaud when you do. You can earn a drink with it.” Subsequently she went down on me, let her tongue wanton around the head of the rod, and then made it disappear into her mouth as far as possible. I noticed that the attention of the two neighboring ladies was torn between what happened on the dance floor and the activities at our table.

My head was spinning. I had used the term “lust-diluted” more often to describe an extremely horny state of mind, but under the circumstances it had become an understatement.

The last notes of the music faded. The ring mistress appeared and kindly asked the couples on the floor to stop whatever they were doing, at least on the dance floor, and to return to their seats. Then she announced that for the next two dances the ladies were invited to choose a partner, not necessarily a male one. And they were of course free to change partners between the two dances if they wished. There was one condition though: The partner would have to be chosen from another table.

Almost instantly the two neighboring ladies rose. One of them crossed the dance floor, and went up to her target, which turned out to be a female. To my surprise the other one tripped to our table. Standing next to me, she said, in English, “Would you do me the honor, sir?”

When Belinda had reluctantly stored my equipment, I stood up and closed my jacket. “The honor is all mine, madam.” I excused myself to the girls and offered an arm to my charming companion. She had a pretty face, light brown hair just past shoulder length, and cute tits that she nicely showed off in her daring little dress, her hard nipples defiantly poking into the fabric.

After I had introduced myself, she said, “I’m Rachael. Perhaps you’ve already heard that I’m an American.”

The music was about to start. I laid my hands around her waist, and she put hers on my shoulders. There seemed no point in adopting a conventional dancing position.

This odd situation had caught me. Having met this young woman only a few minutes ago, part of me was inclined to be reticent. On the other hand, we were in an elegantly depraved nightclub, she had come here on her own accord, in all probability aware of what to expect, and asking me to dance was presumably not just aimed at social small talk. Moreover she knew full well in what state of mind I was, and last but not least she was clearly pushing her abdomen against my erection.

“What brought you here?”

“You mean to this place or to this country?”

“I’m very interested in both, but let’s start with the country.”

“Well, actually I’m having a sort of sabbatical. A short one, just three weeks. Away from the daily routine at home, and from my husband and daughters for a while. Although I should add that I love them very dearly and therefore, despite the fun of the trip, I’m missing them.”

“And away from work perhaps?”

“Not in the sense of a job. I’m a housewife. The idea for this trip came up while dining out with a befriended couple, of which the female part, called Michelle, is accompanying me. When she and I were nagging a bit about the boring and tedious aspects of a housewife’s life, our husbands thought we deserved a “girls’ vacation,” as they called it. Michelle wanted to visit Europe, and I liked the idea too. Actually, Amsterdam was her choice, as she has Dutch roots. But we’ve already been in London, and the next stop will be Paris. We’ll take a Talys train tomorrow.”

“Sounds great!”

“Do you live in Amsterdam?”

“No, I don’t. Just enjoying a night out here.”

“I don’t want to be cheeky, but does that imply that you are single? Or am I jumping to conclusions?”

“I’m married. It is a bit complicated, but shortly summarized I might say that I’m having a sort of a sabbatical, too. An inverted one, so to speak. Not fueled by the desire to be away from home for a while, but rather by the need to experience things I have been missing for a very long time.”

“Ah…I see. So you’re being naughty. Listening between the lines it seems that we’re talking about a sexless marriage.

“We are indeed. That is to say, it became sexless nine odd years ago. I was so lucky as to find a girlfriend, the blonde. Her name is Esther. She has rapidly cured my frustrations. And far better than any psychiatrist would.”

“It looks like you managed to acquire even two girlfriends. Both of them look gorgeous and very sexy, by the way.”

“Well, you probably know how those things can develop. The girlfriend happens to have a girlfriend. And she is facilitating certain logistical aspects of the affair, if you get what I mean. And then…” I didn’t finish the sentence.

“Mm, then things start rolling. I get the picture. What’s the name of the other girl?”

“Belinda.”

“She’s very good at facilitating, as I witnessed. Delicious to watch her at work. Yes, I know full well how those things can develop. I devise those sorts of developments, and even far more wicked and indecent ones. I’m writing stories. With a preference for the kinky and socially unaccepted aspects of sexuality. It’s my dark side. In my normal environment nobody has a clue, except for Michelle. I trust her and she will not say a word to anyone about that depraved, but stimulating hobby of mine.”

I was thunderstruck. Slowly it began to penetrate me, with whom I was most likely dancing. If it was true, the coincidence was utterly unbelievable. I stopped dancing.

“Wait a minute. A coin has just started dropping. I may be finding a mare’s nest, but are you by any chance publishing your stories at a site called Lush?”

She seemed as astonished as I was and looked at me with eyes like saucers. “Yes I am. That is to say initially.”

“Until they suddenly changed their policy, and you started your own blog, right?

“That is amazing! Yes, you’re right.”

“Okay, then I’m fairly sure that you are also known as Dirty Minded Mom. And we are colleagues. Sort of, because I can’t stand in your shadow, but I do write erotic stories as well.”

“I can’t believe this! My goodness!”

“We had an email contact some time ago. You kindly invited me to publish on your site. I will most likely do that. And as to the question what brought you to this club, I would say it has meanwhile been answered pretty well.”

She smiled. A charming and also naughty smile.

“By the way, I must say that you have been far too modest with what you have written about yourself. Something like being a plain Jane, if my memory serves me well. You should know that you look magnificent. And adorable. Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Thank you! It’s sweet of you to say that!”

When that dance was over, I asked her whether she would like to choose another partner.

“Definitely not. I don’t want to keep you away from your hot girlfriends, but in case you haven’t noticed, they seem to enjoy themselves, making out and fondling each other. Besides, it’s not difficult to imagine what will happen between the three of you later tonight. You will no doubt be getting your take. So I’d love to enjoy your company a bit longer. And don’t hesitate to touch me, in whatever indecent ways you like. I’m convinced that the invitation is mutual.”

I swallowed. “Absolutely! For your convenience I’ll put the door open.”

The musicians resumed playing. As I had established earlier, they were very good at adaptations for such a trio of all kinds of music, varying from contemporary film-music, like The Lord of the Rings, to classical. This time it was an andante from a piano concerto by Mozart, used as a theme for the film Elvira Madigan. He would certainly have welcomed it when his music would be played in this environment.

I put my hands on Rachael’s butt and softly squeezed her buttocks through the fabric.

“I have every reason to believe that your girls are great performers in bed, or wherever their desires and yours are being fulfilled.”

“From experience I can confirm that with regard to Esther. The only real bodily contact I had with Belinda so far, is the one you have witnessed tonight. But those two have been cast in the same mold.”

“Ah, so tonight will be the first time you’re going to fuck Belinda. A very exciting prospect.”

“Of course! But as far as I have become acquainted with her, I wonder who will be fucking whom.”

She laughed. Then she reached into my fly and grabbed the joystick. “Mmmm, lovely, and so wet! So this hot orgasm tool is going to pump in two eager pussies before long. I’d love to watch the three of you sucking and fucking…” She moaned softly and squirmed as I pulled up her short dress with one hand and squeezed a naked buttock with the other. I must have looked somewhat surprised. I was meanwhile accustomed to the preference of “my girls” to be naked under their dresses, unless they wanted to tease, but in Rachael‘s case I didn’t expect to feel bare skin.

“There is a G-string,” she explained, “Fastened with bows. If you pull one you’ll have access to my soaking pussy. But it’s more convenient if you pull both of them and remove it altogether.” Which I did, and put it in the pocket of my jacket.

“This is the second piece of female underwear that ends up in my pocket tonight.”

“Of which of the two?”

“Esther’s. Belinda chose to be naked under her dress. And Esther just put panties on for the sake of demonstratively taking them off.”

I steered my fingers to Rachael’s juicy sweet candy.

“Oh, yes! Slide your fingers into my wet, yearning cunt. Fuck me with them! Oh my God, this is so fucking, filthy hot!”

During the rest of the dance we didn’t talk. We just cuddled, toyed, moaned and gasped. When it ended, she seemed close to cumming.

While leading her to her table, I pulled her G-string out. “Before I forget, I’d better return this to you.”

“I want you to have it. Consider it a thank you gift. I have thoroughly enjoyed your lovely company.” She kissed me, and then went on, “I wish you lots of fun later on. And…I look forward to your writings. Perhaps you can record your naughty games with those lovely hot girls in them…” She laughed.

I wished her an enjoyable continuation of her sabbatical and a safe trip home. “And I will cherish the sweet memento.”

“I know. And I know how.”

When I sat down, two pairs of extremely curious eyes were staring at me. Obviously the ladies had seen most of what had happened on the floor, but nonetheless they wanted to hear every filthy detail. And their jaws dropped when I told them with whom I had been dancing, or rather toying, and the almost unbelievable coincidence of the encounter.

It was far past midnight when we left Amsterdam. Belinda had insisted that she wanted to sit up front, so I wondered whether I would reach her apartment without cumming…

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