Have you ever seen something once and thought it disgusting and repulsive, and then another time it seemed natural and attractive? I suppose everyone must have had a similar experience. But this case was different, affecting body and spirit at the same time. So when I tell you what happened with me, please bear in mind that a similar thing could arrive to anyone given the proper circumstances.
The events I will recount take place in the early 90's, when I was first living in Paris and holding down my first job after university. My pitiful salary afforded only a tiny 25 square meter studio in a less-than-fashionable neighborhood; but when one is young and in Paris, one's lodgings are of minor importance. I had formed a romantic
liaison
with Robert, a man somewhat older than myself and of more substantial means. He occupied a splendid apartment in the second
arrondissement
, and I spent most weekends there.
I had a more fluid attachment to Juliette, who visited my apartment at irregular intervals. Juliette was completely lesbian, and contemptuous of my relationships with men in general, and of Robert in particular. Nevertheless, she would show up when she was between lovers or needed a compliant partner for an evening.
Robert was aware that I had relationships with women that went beyond mere friendship. Once we had progressed from a mere sexual attachment to something more substantial, I felt it unfair to conceal that side of myself from him. Robert was undisturbed by my bisexuality, and even hinted at times about participating if invited. Given Juliette's nature, that participation was never a possibility. Even had she been willing, I would have hesitated to mingle those two sides of my existence at that stage of our relationship.
At the time of our vacation, Robert and I had been intimate for nine months. Our sexual practices were for the most part straightforward. He was fairly skilled with cunnilingus, and as adequate at fucking as most men, so that I achieved orgasm a good deal of the time and faked the others to assuage his ego. Our favorite position was
levrette
, a word I find more elegant than "doggy". On special occasions I allowed him to use my ass. He was very fond of anal sex, and I felt it cemented our attachment, since none of his previous lovers had allowed it.
For my birthday, we were to spend a week in Amsterdam, a city I hadn't theretofore visited. Robert was in a mood to impress me and had booked a room at one of the city's best hotels. During the day we toured the mandatory sites, visiting Van Gogh and Rembrandt and eating herring and rijstaffel. Our second evening we walked through the famous Red Light district, where prostitutes of all races, ages, and sizes sat in red-lighted windows advertising their wares to passersby. Robert had drunk quite a lot at dinner and kept asking me which of the women were to my taste, whom I'd like to fuck, or watch him fuck. I attributed this boorish behavior to the effects of alcohol, but truthfully I did see a number of them whose bodies or faces were attractive. Had I suggested hiring one of them, Robert would certainly have agreed instantly. As it was I replied that I cared for none but him, and I would show him as soon as we were in our room.
At the edge of the district, we passed an establishment that provided live sex shows. There were photographs of some of the participants posted at the entrance, where a man dressed in a tuxedo was posted to entice customers inside. As we walked by, the man called to us in English, then German, and then French. His accent was impeccable. Neither of us was interested in such a show. They are generally tawdry affairs performed by bored people, although at the time I was unaware of these facts. The man called to us again. "
Monsieur
. Perhaps you and your beautiful companion would like to attend a special show later tonight. Only couples and single ladies will be admitted. Much nicer and more elegant than our regular offerings, which I'm sure persons of your quality would be wise to avoid."
I wasn't swayed by this entreaty, but Robert replied, "What's special about it?"
"The performers are all beautiful young women. All most entrancing, and there are things done which are not commonly seen, even here in Amsterdam. It commences at one this morning, and you will surely remember it all your lives." He handed Robert a card of invitation.
Upon returning to the hotel, both of us were furiously amorous, and in short order we were fucking on the bed. Still somewhat inebriated, Robert was able to last a long time. I came first as we were in the missionary position. Feeling my pussy clamp on his shaft, he pulled up to watch my face as I moaned under him. When my first orgasm had subsided, he turned me over and pounded into me from behind until I came a second time as he did some moments later, mixing his sperm and my copious juices. When he pulled out and collapsed beside me, I reached between my legs to feel and then taste the sticky residue besmearing my cunt lips and thighs. The feeling of gooey messiness after intercourse is something I always find very erotic and pleasing.
Afterwards we dozed. I awoke suddenly, very thirsty, and realized that the room lights were still ablaze and that Robert was snoring softly alongside. Getting up for a drink of water, I decided to take a shower to cleanse the residue of lovemaking. As I was luxuriating under the warm water, Robert awoke and got in with me, so that soon we were soaping each other, hands playing over my breasts and pussy and his cock and ass. I was going to fellate him under the spray, but he raised me up saying that we should go that special show.
I agreed, somewhat reluctantly as we had less than an hour to dress and arrive, but arrive we did. I'd put on a silk blouse and leather mini, with only panties underneath. At the time I wore my hair rather short, so I had managed to become presentable in the short time allowed. At the entrance, the same man was stationed outside. He gave me an appreciative look, and I felt my nipples stiffen and push out against the silk fabric. Robert paid the man what seemed to be an obscene amount of money, and we entered.
Inside, the club was surprisingly tasteful. The seats were like those found in cinemas, upholstered in red velour and arranged in twos without armrests between the pairs. They were distributed in an arc of five rows on three sides of a small raised stage on which was placed a round platform surmounted by a long, low, leather-covered bench. As promised, the other seats were occupied primarily by mixed couples, with some single and paired women scattered about. We found seats in the second row shortly before the lights went low, save for a blue spotlight on the stage.
An androgynous figure stepped into the light, wearing a tuxedo and top hat, apparently the master of ceremonies. He/she spoke in a high voice, "