Free Girls!
Free Girls! |
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Many years ago while doing summer coursework in Manhattan I heard about "Night Moves," an on-premises sex club for couples and singles, so one July night I went to check it out. Entering a narrow doorway between two shops that were closed for the night, I went up a flight of stairs and through another door that opened into the second-floor club, where the sound of music and conversation coming from various directions made a welcome contrast to the deserted silence of the stairway.Just inside the door was a checkstand, but not your usual checkstand. The girl was more than a hatgirl; her job was to take all your clothing and check it until you were ready to leave again. I followed the example of a couple ahead of me and took everything off, folding it up into the basket the hatgirl provided. First my shies and socks, then my shirt and tee, then my slacks. As I peeled down my jockeys to stand fully naked, my eyes darted from the girl to the couple checking their basket and standing unconcernedly naked at the counter. The girl took my basket and exchanged it for a towel, which she explained I would need for the hottub and for other purposes as the evening progressed. Since I was there for sex, being naked didn't faze me for long, nor did the fact that the hatcheck girl was fully clothed and pretty obviously giving every new arrival, male or female, the once-over.
She pointed out the free (non-alcoholic) bar, the hot tub room, the main public playroom, and the private alcoves, and turned us loose to find our bearings. She did warn, before letting us go, that we should report anyone who should ask for money during the evening. That warning was puzzling, but I didn't give it much thought, as my mind was still wrerstling with the novelty and excitement of the whole swinging sex scene.
There were several couples in the main room, many single men, and fewer single women, the age range running from fairly young to middle age. It was hard to guess the number of people in the whole club, because pairs kept disappearing into alcoves and private rooms and moving from place to place.
I sat on one of the many empty benches arranged around the edge of the main room and watched the activity on the floor in the middle. Every now and then a girl would go up to one of the men sitting on a bench, take his hand, and lead him out onto the floor, where they would sit together and start touching, petting like schoolkids. The girl would eventually have the guy lying on his back with his cock erect and her hand stroking it. All eyes would be on the action, as his toes began to curl, his hands clench into tight fists, and his grunts and moans betray his rising excitement. It was just a matter of time and a girl's skill how long the guy hold hold back before he blew his load, geysering into the air like Old Faceful, his cock snot there for everyone to gawk at. At one level the scene was embarrassingly raw, at another level it was arrestingly erotic.
Watching this routine repeat itself with various guys and three or four different girls got my cock to standing, and I made no attempt to conceal that, not even when a female passed by my bench and maybe glanced down. Sex was on display everywhere in one form or another. Why shouldn't mine be? Then, while I was eyeing a young female who had come to sit a few seats away from me, I felt a hand grab my wrist. Looking up, I saw a tall tawny Latina standing over me and pulling me wordlessly out onto the floor. Hell, it was my turn to be on display, I realized, my heart pounding and my cock stiffening. Shit! I put my hand on her bare ass and followed her out to the middle of the room, her hand still clenching my wrist, like a mother leading her boy. I lay down beside her and began caressing her tits. She kinda fended that off and directed her attention to my cock, just like the other girls did to their guys. She worked it, dry, but with an expert touch, making use of all the precum that I made. As my tension and excitement mounted, increased a thousand-fold by knowing people were watching, my hand instintively groped for her pussy. It was then I realized that she was wearing a pad, though I couldn't figure how she held it in place without panties. Maybe a belt, but I hadn't noticed or felt any.
Anyway, between the pad and her clever dodges I couldn't get into her pussy or her ass, so I just grabbed the meat of her thigh as I felt the moment of release coming, her expert fingers working their magic on my pulsing erection. With a loud moan I let loose and shot my wad up and out, while she cleverly turned her hand to let my cum shoot into my own chest hair. Not a drop on her and not a drop on the floor. From beginning to end I don't think we ever exchanged two words. It was all pantomine and hand signals. Yeah hand signals!
She disappeared into one of the side rooms, to be replaced by another girl, and I rose on shaky legs to go to my bench and towel off. Later, sitting and watching similar displays, I noticed that a couple other of the girls were wearing pads or looked like they had tampon strings dangling from their holes. I realized that they were probably hired to service the single guys and at the same time to provide a floor show in the main room. And that they were probably pros, not amateurs there for the fun. Then the hatcheck girl's warning about anyone asking for money made a little more sense.
I went off to the hot tub where a few other men and women were busy soaking and feeling each other up. I slipped in beside a girl who looked like she was alone and not busy and let our bodies touch underwater, ny toes playing with hers and then my hand touching her hip. She didn't back away, so I become bolder and let my hand wander over her backside and up to her waist, where I pulled her closer and whispered something like "Nice! Very nice" to her. I was hoping she would reciprocate my touches, but she didn't. She must have felt my disappointment, because she smiled sweetly and explained, "I've just had a workout and do really need to wind down with a good soak. Maybe later. Ok?" I asked her if she was alone and would be here long. She said yes and would probably be staying until closing, which was 2 a.m. We talked for a while, then I took leave of her and went in search of sexual adventure on dry land.
At the bar I found two girls in their twenties, both heavier than I would like, but clearly ready for action. So we took our drinks and the three of us went to one of the alcoves and sat, talking and eyeing each other, wondering what the first move would be. I made it by putting my hand on the unshaved pussy of the girl to my left. She opened her legs, and I let my fingers do the walking, finding her hairy but wet and warm. I tried not to leave the other, heavier girl out of the action, but the one I was fingering was reaching the stage -- and so was I -- where more than finger action was needed. I got off my bench and told the other girl to move over close to the first, while I knelt down on the floor between the first girl's legs. Her I hungrily ate out, while my fingers groped to find the second girl's pussy and play with it. She was as hairy and wet as the first girl, though I fumbled to find her clit, which seemed smaaler and more buried than most.
It was a first for me, doing two big girls at once like that, but we all seemed to get into the "swing" of things, making up in sheer quantity what we might have lacked in quality.
Eventually the first girl said she had to pee. Where the toilets were we never did bother to find out, because she just took the empty Dixie that her drink came in and peed into that, sliding to the edge of the bench and holding the cup to her lips. Then she tucked the cup under the bench and said, "Let's go to the tub." While the peeing might have been a turn-on for me under different conditions, it was a bit of a downer at that moment and put and lid on the oral. Since they were both pretty lubed up and smelling like it, going to the tub was a smart move. We went to the hot tub and found it deserted except for one guy. Perfect pairing! We got in and I devoted my attention to the second girl, whom I had kinda neglected back in the alcove. I had in mind to fuck her in the tub, and began playing my hand between her legs, trying to find that elusive clitty of hers, but the water kept her from becoming slippery, and there was no soap to help. So I satisfied myself with feeling her tits and kissing her, we both doing a bit of tongue wrestling as we hugged and the hot water massaged our thighs.
The night was getting late and I still hadn't fucked any of the girls. I realized that people who came as couples got a lot more action, because they could swap off with other couples who had something to trade. Girls who came alone tended to be in high demand, if they were playing -- or else out of the picture, if they were only there to watch or to find out if the scene was their cup of tea. Guys like me who came alone had to cruise and schmooze and hope to get lucky. I blew my chance with the two big girls because after we left the tub, they had to go home.
I spent the better part of a half hour talking with a girl who would really have been fun to spend time with anywhere, finally asking her point blank if she wouldn't like to go off to one of the rooms and make love or just fuck -- whatever she wanted to call it. Her answer was that she had thought, when she heard of "Night Moves" and decided to come here, that she would want to go the whole way, but when the moment arrived, the desire just wasn't there for her. She said that the club was so different from normal dating that she couldn't make the leap from conversation to sex, probably because it was such a sudden leap. We talked for a while longer, then parted. Later I wished I had gotten her phone number, but my mind was too much on scoring at the time.
I never did score, though I tried. The crowd was thinning out; all the single girls were going home and the floor performances had stopped. I looked around for the girl who had said she'd be around all evening and might be ready for another encounter, but she must have been having it. So I decided it was time to head for the subway. I went to the hatcheck for my basket of clothes, dressed, tipped the girl, and headed home. The night wasn't what I thought it would be, but it still burns bright in my memory years later, even though "Night Moves" is surely gone, a victim of Manhattan cleanup.
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