“Not today, please, darling.” How he hated that sentence. She had said that to him yesterday, too. And the day before yesterday, and the day before that too. Things couldn’t go on like this. They had only been married for a year and his wife just didn’t want to sleep with him anymore.
He turned onto his back and closed his eyes. Involuntarily, the images of them making love for the first time on the beach came to his mind. They were lying on the lonely quarry lake outside their town and he had told her about his first sexual experience. Suddenly he noticed how her breathing became heavy. Before he knew it, she had moved very close to him and crossed her bent leg over his thigh. “Tell me more about it,” she breathed in his ear and he felt her rubbing her sex against his thigh.
When the two of them lay exhausted next to each other half an hour later, he had not only had the first outdoor sex of his life, but he was also deeply in love. Less than ten months later, they were standing at the altar to say “I do.” If only he knew why his once wild playmate had suddenly turned into this prudish “don’t touch me” girl.
The following Saturday, Peter didn’t drive home after work. He had called her and explained that he had to work overtime and didn’t know when he would finish work. It was the first time he had lied to his wife. But for him, it was a logical consequence of the events of the last few weeks. He just needed to get out and clear his head.
He drove aimlessly into the early evening, pondering what he might have done wrong. But he came to no conclusion. Without realizing it, he suddenly found himself in the city center on the access road that led into the middle of the local red-light district. When he spotted a free space on the parking lane, he braked abruptly and put on the right indicator. All of this happened completely automatically; without him thinking about it.
Minutes later, Peter was strolling through neon-drenched alleys where strip and sauna clubs, brothels and other red-light establishments met in a more or less secretive rendezvous. After walking for a while, he spontaneously entered a bar that advertised a nude revue and lap dances in large, colorful letters.
In the strip club
Inside, the beats of Tina Turner’s Private Dancer thumped from oversized speakers. Apart from him, only two older men were sitting in the dimly lit dining room. A voluptuous peroxide blonde was stretching herself on a pole to the beat of the music. The stripper had already taken off her top and was now in the process of removing her tiny thong with lascivious movements.
“I’ll have a beer,” he told the bartender gruffly. The bartender looked at him briefly, then bent down to the cooler, where he conjured up a bottle of beer from a well-known northern German brewery.
“Trouble?” asked the barman, skilfully removing the crown cap and casually pushing the beer over to him.
“Oh, women!” he said, almost feeling guilty. Up until now, he had never spoken disparagingly about his wife.
“Yes, yes – it doesn’t work with them, but without them…” the bartender interrupted his sentence at this point. While the platinum blonde was busy picking up her scanty work clothes from the stage, a pretty brunette girl joined him, who was easily identified as a so-called “easy girl”. He estimated her to be 25 years old at most.
“Well, handsome man, all alone?” she trilled, while placing her miniskirt-wearing butt on the bar stool next to him. “Will you buy me a drink?”
She smelled far too good for him to say no. So he nodded briefly and tried to conjure a smile onto his face. “But only one, I have to go again soon.”
“Oho, there’s one of the really fast guys,” joked the brunette. “Perhaps we should go to my place,” she added in a businesslike manner.
“No, just one drink, then I really have to go,” said Peter firmly.
Ten minutes later he found himself on the street, 60 euros poorer. He turned up the collar of his coat and made his way back to his car.
‘That was close,’ he thought to himself as he turned the ignition key.
It had become dark in the meantime and a light drizzle had started. He was driving the car towards the industrial area and the city exit when he noticed the inconspicuous single-family house. The red neon sign was flashing and the words nudist and swinger club promised a quick erotic adventure. He headed for the busy parking lot and instinctively checked whether there was a familiar license plate. He was surprised to see that the license plates of the parked cars were not from the immediate area, but exclusively from other cities and towns.
Voyeurism at the Gangbang Party
After locking the car door, he quickly walked towards the entrance. ‘Today’s hot gangbang party. Entry from 7 p.m.!’ was written in large letters.
He rang the bell and smiled nervously into the installed camera. He wondered what he was actually doing here. But when the buzzer sounded, he pushed the entrance door open with force. He stood in a small hallway that led into a large open room that had been converted into a bar. Behind the counter stood a voluptuous red-haired woman in her mid-40s wearing nothing but black lace underwear and mid-height, open sandals. Her massive breasts were squeezed into a black push-up bra that showed off her enormous tits more than concealed them.
“Mr. Schneider, you’re a little late,” the buxom mature woman called out to him. “But as the saying goes, better late than never,” she added with a wry smile.
“There must be some confusion. I happened to be passing by and saw the advertisement,” Peter tried to explain.
“Oh, I thought you had registered for the gangbang today via Kaufmich.com? Never mind. One more or less doesn’t really matter, does it? That’ll be 80 euros, please.”
“The changing room and shower with towels and rubbers are down the stairs to the right, right next to the sauna, and directly behind it you’ll find the large mirror room with the other participants,” the redhead instructed him as he counted four twenties onto the counter.
In the rather sparsely furnished changing room there was a television on which an old vintage porno was playing without sound.
As he entered the red-painted room with the ceiling mirror wearing only a towel, he asked himself what he was actually doing here. Did he really want to cheat on his wife and take part in a group fuck with a horde of other men? But that thought disappeared as quickly as it had come. The scene that was unfolding before him was too interesting. In the well-lit room, he counted eight men standing around a large, round bed, estimated to be 2 m in diameter.
On the bed, a blonde and a red-haired woman were kneeling opposite each other in the six o’clock position in the doggy style, with their buttocks facing the edge of the bed. Their naked bodies were covered in sweat and they were moaning loudly and lustfully. He felt the blood rush to his cock. He saw two men kneeling on the bed next to the women, pleasuring their stiff nipples with their mouths, while two other men were feasting on their pleasure holes. He enjoyed the erotic spectacle for another twenty minutes without moving from the spot. Then he turned on his heel and fled the mirror room. Voyeurism was enough for him.
A surprise awaits at home
Back to the changing rooms, a quick shower, getting dressed and striding up the stairs were all in one. He took the time to assure the woman at the counter that it had been a great evening, then he disappeared from the establishment. With flying fingers he started his car and left the swingers’ club car park. Without paying attention to the speed limits, he drove straight home.
When he unlocked the stands, he was determined to talk to his wife about what had happened. After all, he had heroically resisted all temptations. But he had to make it clear to her that a functioning relationship also required regular sex.
“Well, honey, did you manage everything?” she asked as he entered the living room.
“I have something to confess to you. I haven’t been in the office for the last few hours, but first in a strip club and then in a swingers’ club.”
“Oh,” she said slowly. “And how was it?”
“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t cheat on you. But I just needed a little variety.”
“Come, sit down with me and tell me more about it.”
Peter had expected all sorts of things, but he was more than just pleasantly surprised by this reaction. So he sat down next to his wife on the living room couch and began to describe his experiences. He was just watching the blonde striptease when he noticed his wife fiddling with the belt of his trousers. She energetically pulled down the zipper of his fly and freed his stiffening member from its prison.
“Keep telling me!” she cooed, without letting go of his penis. There she was again, his passionate lover, who turned the act into a sensual firework, and so the following night hours became a huge storm of lived horniness.
“I’ve never dared to talk to you about it, but it turns me on extremely when you tell me about your erotic adventures. That was the case back then at the lake and it hasn’t changed to this day,” she confessed to her husband when they were in bed much later.
He was happy. In his mind he went through all his previous relationships. “It’s a good thing that I had already gained some experience before marriage,” he thought to himself before falling asleep contentedly.
