Page 2 of Once a Month

“No, thank you,” I reply.

He nods yet again. I take the hint that he likely has another guest to welcome right after he drops my jacket off in the coatroom, so I walk to the left, where he said the refreshments were located. It’s then that I see nine or ten people standing around the large dining room, complete with a table that could seat at least twenty people. It’s covered in various food platters, cutlery, and full champagne glasses. There’s also a bar behind the food-filled table, with two bartenders pouring wine and cocktails. I decide to skip the drinks for now since I’m not sure if I’m staying, and I want to be able to drive myself home. I look down at the food that looks delicious and in perfectly small portions for an event like this, but my stomach is rumbling with nerves, so now is not the time to put food in it.

I take another second to look around and take in my surroundings. I’m not looking at the artwork on the walls, or the ornate woodwork of the molding, or around the window that had closed curtains for the night; I’m looking around at the people here – specifically, at the ones wearing no bracelets at all and the color of the bracelets the others are wearing. I know gold means women. Silver means men. Then, there are people wearing platinum, which means anything goes, and bronze, which means–

I lose my train of thought when I see a woman walk into the room. She’s approaching a man who smiles when he sees her, as if they know each other. Maybe he’s a regular, and they do. He’s leaning against the wall, holding his glass of dark liquor, and she’s reaching for him. My heart falls to the floor when her hand cups him roughly. He takes a slug of his drink, leaves the glass on the table for someone else to take care of, and off they go. I guess the party is starting.

I turn around to see a man with no bracelet leaning in to whisper something to another man, who nods. My head is now on a swivel. I see a woman with a silver bracelet approach a man without one. They speak for only a second before he gently presses her to the wall behind her and lifts her right leg off the floor, pressing into her.

Knowing what to expect and actually seeing it are two different things, and my heart is racing in my chest. I have to turn around and leave the room. Where is my jacket? God, where did he park my car? Can I ask him to bring it back? Then, I see the man slide his hand between the woman’s legs. Her eyes are closed. He’s kissing her neck, stroking her, and she’s enjoying herself. She doesn’t care that she’s completely exposed to a room full of people; that I’m watching him slide his fingers inside her now. I’m watching a stranger ride another stranger’s finger. Then, I’m watching her come undone at his touch, and I’m wet.

I turn to go, and I as I do, I end up blocked in the foyer as more people enter the party and are welcomed by the attendant. I wait for them to move, and with the attendant now off to the coatroom with their jackets and bags, I head to the other room to await his return. It’s then that I see people couple off. Some of them are in groups of three. Two couples are already engaged. One woman is down on her knees, in front of a man wearing the male version of the gold bracelet, indicating his preference for women. Another woman is slipping her hand into the dress of a woman who’s also wearing a gold bracelet.

That gets my attention. I lean back against the wall and watch, worried for a second that I’m going to get caught and asked to leave but remembering that this is what some people come here for. In fact, there’s a woman in the corner of the room, staring at them as well, and she has her hand inside her pants. She’s licking her lips, and I think there’s no way I’ll ever be comfortable enough to get myself off in a room with twenty people in it, like her. I return my attention to the same couple, who – I notice now – are both wearing gold bracelets, indicating they’re both members. Interesting, I think.

It’s almost too much for my senses, but I keep watching. I watch as these two women kiss each other deeply and sometimes roughly. I watch as the one pressing the other to the wall, reaches inside her own pants. I expect her to place the other woman’s hand there so they can pleasure each other, but she doesn’t. I can’t see what she’s doing now, so I move. I actually move to get a better look. Then, I see her pull out a flesh-toned dildo. The woman pressed to the wall, lifts her dress up and slips her panties off – just like that, in a room full of people. She tucks them into the other woman’s pants pocket and spreads her legs. The other woman smirks, and the dildo slides between the woman’s legs. I watch as she coats it in her desire before I see it disappear inside her. They’re pressed together now, and the woman with the strap-on is thrusting slowly. The woman against the wall is pressing on the other woman’s ass, silently begging her for more; and I am captivated by this. I lick my lips and actually think about reaching inside my own panties because now, I am completely turned on.

It’s then that I notice it. There’s music playing softly in the background, and it’s something classical that I don’t recognize, but that’s not what I notice. I notice the other sounds. There are moans and grunts and gasps. I tear my eyes away from the two women having sex against a wall not even ten feet away from me and look around the room. A man now stands behind a woman. He’s reaching inside her silk top, massaging her breasts, while another woman is going down on her.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

I return my attention to the women at the wall just as the one pressed against it comes hard and yells out. She grasps her own breasts through her dress, squeezes them, and I can’t believe I just saw that. I can’t believe I’m still seeing it. I want to watch more. I want to take it all in, but part of me wants to explore further. I leave the room and see the attendant is back at the door – I can leave. I can let him know I need my jacket and my car, and I can go. I got what I came for – I know what these events are like now. I can go home, get myself off, and go to sleep, having checked this off my sex fantasy bucket list.

I head upstairs instead, taking the curved staircase one careful step at a time, feeling like I might fall from wobbly, uncertain legs. I arrive at the first room, which is an empty bathroom. When I turn down the hallway, I see open and closed doors. I remember the rules: open doors, even if occupied, mean that people don’t mind being watched or joined. If I want to join, I just have to ask first. An open door means I can watch without making the request. I pass two closed doors, hearing some sounds through them but not focusing on what I’m hearing. I approach an open door and look inside. A man is going down on a woman who looks up when she notices me standing there. She holds up her hand with a platinum bracelet, indicating she’s up for anything or, in this case, anyone. She closes her eyes without awaiting my nod or a headshake, and she comes, moving her hand to the back of his head to press him farther into her. She’s completely naked, as is he, and I watch her breasts bounce as she moans and curses in pleasure. When she finishes, he stands, and I watch as he climbs on top of the bed and flips her over.

She says, “Yes, baby.”

He enters her from behind, and I turn to go. Across the hall, there’s another open door. I peer inside and see three women on a bed. This room has my attention. One woman is sitting behind another; her hands are on the woman’s breasts. The woman in the middle is staring down at the third woman, who has her mouth pressed against her sex and fingers buried deep inside her. I watch. The woman massaging the breasts makes eye contact, and God, she’s gorgeous. She’s striking in her androgyny. Her eyes are dark either by nature or because of arousal. Her hair is short and equally dark. Her skin is just this side of tan. I watch as her hands with short fingernails massage full breasts, and I nearly come at the sight.

The woman she’s massaging does come, but the dark-eyed woman doesn’t take her eyes off of me. It’s as if she’s touching me, not someone else. I open my mouth and lick my lips. It’s too much, though. I can’t take it, so I turn around and walk down the hall. My heart is thundering, and I’m not sure how much more it can take before it just gives out. Part of me wants to flee, part wants to go back downstairs to watch the couple against the wall, and the other wants to go back to that bedroom and make eye contact with the sexy woman massaging someone else’s breasts. It’s then that I think about the fact that she’s not wearing a bracelet – she’s working.

I find more closed doors, including what I assume is a bathroom, because I’m pretty sure I hear a shower running, and I come across another open door. There’s a couple in this room, and I smile when I realize it’s the two women from downstairs. The woman who had been wearing the strap-on is on top of the other woman now. They’re both naked this time, and they’re covered in a light sheen of sweat. I watch as she slowly makes her way down the other woman’s body, feeling like a total voyeur until I remind myself that the door is open. They want this. They like this. When she finally takes the woman into her mouth, I bite down on my bottom lip. Just from watching them like this, I can tell there’s familiarity with these two, and I wonder if they’re together and come here to spice things up or if they meet here monthly and have done this dozens of times.

“Hi,” a soft, husky voice says into my ear.

I know better than to turn around and say, “Hi.”

“Do you like to watch?” she asks, the sound coming a little closer, meaning she’d taken a step toward me.

I think about lying but realize there’s no point and say, “Yes.”

“Do you like anything else?”

I take a deep breath and just nod, not trusting my own voice anymore.

“Would you like anything right now?” she asks.

Then, I feel a hand on my hip. It’s not possessive or demanding. It’s gentle and tells me that she’ll back off the moment I say no. I should shake my head – I only came here to watch. This was some stupid fantasy that I’ve now fulfilled.

“Yes,” I whisper back.

“While you watch?” she asks, seemingly knowing the answer already as she wraps her arms around my waist and gently pulls me back against her.

“Yes,” I say.

I feel her lips graze the soft skin of my neck, so I close my eyes for a second and wait. Nothing happens.

“I thought you were going to watch,” she says after a moment.

---