Juicy Journalism 01

Hi, my name is Anabelle Joy. I'm a journalist reporting on anything and everything to do with intimacy and pleasure. Please enjoy the stories about my ventures into the world of temptation and sex parties.

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I step into the taxi. My trench coat prevents anyone guessing to what kind of party I'm going. Because underneath, I'm wearing nothing but lingerie. The instructions for tonight were clear. The men were to come in suits while the women were only allowed to wear lingerie and heels. I had chosen one of the more scandalous sets from my wardrobe, made from a delicate black lace, that gave me a deep cleavage, and from which the thong put my ass cheeks on full display. My black stiletto's were the only other thing on my body.

The taxi stops and I step out of the vehicle. In front of the neatly hidden entrance to a private club stands a line. I walk past it, addressing the bouncer in a fishnet outfit, the strands stretching around her curvaceous figure. I'm not sure because of the lack of light outside, but are those her nipples poking through? "Hi, my name's Anabelle Joy. I'm here to write an article about the place. I should be on the list."

The woman gazes across the list, then back at me. I untie my trench coat and pull the front open, revealing my enticing lingerie underneath. The bouncer nods her approval and ties a VIP bracelet around my wrist. "Have fun," she says with a naughty wink.

I walk towards the music, house with some dubstep mixed into. There are already a lot of people on the dancefloor. Behind the DJ booth on the podium hangs a large screen on which visuals are projected. I see a naked woman in paradise, surrounded by colourful butterflies, birds, and tropical plants. She sensually eats an orange, the juices running freely down her body. A moment later a handsome man appears, and caresses her. While the music is a treat for the ears, this is one for the eyes, enhanced by professional, scarcely dressed dancers flanking both sides of the screen.

I approach the bar. "One rum and coke, please," I say to the bartender.

As the bubbles run across my tongue, I feel a hand tapping my lower arm. I look sideways into the clear blue eyes of a stranger. The man's blonde hair lies wild on top of his head while his tailored suit fits him like a glove. His appearance is contradictory. He's in his late thirties I guess.

"What shall we toast to?" he asks, looking mischievously at me and bringing his bottle of beer closer to my glass.

I smile. "To tonight, of course. Your first time here?"

He shakes his head with a smirk on his lips. And he tells me about the previous edition.

I sense a captivating story. "Can I ask you a couple of questions? I'm a journalist reporting on erotic parties."

The man agrees and answers every question without hesitation. "...and that's when I experienced my first threesome, with two women. It was everything I could have wished for, and more," he ends his answer to the last question.

When I finish writing the details down, I thank him. If I'd been here for pleasure only, I'd have indulged in another drink with him, but there is reporting to do and other people to interview. I turn around but he gently grabs my arm.

"Hey, I hope to see you again. What's your name?"

"Anabelle," I say, unable to hold a smile back. Then I leave, walking as slowly and sexily as possible, giving him a great view of my swaying hips and nude buttocks. He deserves that after his willingness to share everything I asked him.

On both sides of the dancefloor I notice some enclosed cubicles with long, satin curtains. I gingerly pull one aside and enter a small space, beautifully decorated with feathers, cushions, and soft, red light. On a purple, velvet couch sits a woman with a high updo. While a man slides his fingers in and out her pussy, she is intimately kissing another man sitting next to her. Her bra has been discarded. I take in her large breasts with dark nipples that are stiffly pointing at me. The man she's wrestling with her tongue is kneading her breasts and plucking her nipples. Oh how I long to stay here, but I have more stories to collect. And that will not happen here. It would be rude to disturb them.

I leave the cubicle and take five more interviews. One with a dancer from next to the screen (she's only wearing glitter powder on her nipples and a thong), three men in sleek suits who all make advancements towards me, and another woman I bump into when she leaves a cubicle, an orgasmic blush on her face. I decide I've gathered enough information. I'm grateful for the openness of people in this place to talk about sex. It's lovely hearing them elaborate on their escapades without filter.

Now I feel like dancing. The music is great. I'm standing close to the DJ, making eye-contact with him, which intensifies my experience of his beats. When I look around, all I can see are cool and beautiful people dancing, flirting, and kissing with each other. It's one big foreplay.

Then I see the man from earlier at the bar. He's standing close to another girl, his hands stroking her waist, both their hips moving synchronously to the music. His eyes are sparkling and his lips slightly ajar. Then he catches my gaze. "Hi, Anabelle," he calls. "This is Grace. And my name's Steve, by the way." The girl named Grace has long blonde hair and the intense, smoking eyes. She immediately grabs my hand, pulling me close.

"Isn't this amazing?" she says with a sultry voice.

Then I feel a hand on my hip. His hand. I look at him. He looks at me. My heart is throbbing in my throat. He's fucking sexy. Then he moves his hand down to my thighs. His blue eyes penetrate mine.

Meanwhile, Grace has come closer to me, her larger breasts pressing against my more modest ones. My nipples react instantly, poking against the bra covering them, aching to escape. Steve's fingers are teasingly sliding up and down my leg. He rubs against the small piece of fabric of my thong, then weakly pulls on it. A shiver travels through my body. He stands directly behind my. Holy fuck. His cock is hard.

As if on autopilot, his hips move with mine, his cock pressed between my cheeks. Grace places her forehead against mine, lips almost brushing each other. I close my eyes, feeling the excitement rushing through my entire body. When I open them again, Grace traces her fingers along the edges of my bra. Steve leans forward placing kisses in my neck. He deliberately pushes his rock hard cock firmer against my backside. His lips feel divine on my warm skin. I throw my head back. Another series of kisses. His tongue plays with my earlobe. In one smooth motion I turn around.

I only want one thing: more of this man.

While I engage my tongue with Steve's, Grace cups my cheeks in both hands, then slides one in between my legs and teasingly caresses the fabric covering my pussy. I feel it throbbing down there. My pussy wants nothing else but being touched. I'm drunk on ecstasy.

"Are you coming with me?" Steven asks.

Yes, I want to. Of course I want to. Not a single cell in my body would decline his offer. I turn around and ask Grace if she's also joining.

"Enjoy," she says with a naughty smile. "You won't need me." She disappears in the crowd.

Steve guides me and holds the satin curtains of a cubicle open for me. "Come here," he whispers hoarsely.

He pulls me onto a couch. I notice we're not the only ones here. A woman is riding a man a couple of feet away on another couch. Her breasts are swaying with each bounce. She looks at us and winks before giving her steed all the attention again. From his expression I'm convinced the man's close to giving in and delivering his load inside her.

Oh my god, this party is fucking incredible.

Steve spreads my legs. His hands on my inner thighs, he breathes on my thong. The fabric is already soaked. He pulls it aside. Fuck! His fingers on my clit feel amazing, even more so when he inserts them. Waves of pleasure submerge me in an ocean of bliss. My eyes fall on another couple entering, the woman dragging the man and removing his trousers to suck his cock. Is that Grace? No time to think. Need to focus on the pleasure Steve gives me. Aaahhh!

"Fuck," I breath heavily. His tongue feels heavenly on my clit, licking and sucking eagerly. I'm not lasting much longer. "Oh, Steve," I whisper, sensing the oncoming orgasm. Everything tightens and then... I climax. Intense, long, overwhelming. So much so that I gush juices into Steve's mouth and leave a wet spot on the couch.

"That was amazing. You were amazing. You want to stay a little longer?" I ask, placing my hand on his crotch. He's still as hard as a metal rod. I also pull my bra down, and twist my shoulders to wiggle my breasts for his enjoyment.

Steve bites his lip at the sight of my pristine tits. "Do I need to answer that rhetorical question?" he smiles and unbuttons his trousers.

Of course he doesn't...

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