The Bacchanalia
Author's note: this is the last in the original story arc for La Playa, the ultimate bisexual swinger resort in the Carribean. As such it refers to characters and sub-plots developed in the previous 16 stories. I hope you will find that this story stands well on its own, but you may get even more out of it by reading the rest of the series. Thanks, and I hope you enjoyed La Playa!
"You fill my soul," whispered Steve as he embraced and kissed his wife Deana.
They were standing in the foyer of their home, sharing a quiet moment before going to the party. Her eyes beamed her love to him, a huge smile dancing on her lovely face.
"I love you, my man," she replied, running her hands up and down his spine. "Thank you for giving me the most wonderful life a woman could imagine."
"No, the thanks go to you," Steve protested lovingly. "You gave me the freedom to be myself and go for the gold, and you put up with all my quirks and kinks along the way. Thank you, my love, thank you." With that he leaned in again for a deep, probing kiss, his hands massaging her neck and back in all the places he knew so well, then wondering across her supple behind.
They were of course dressed in Roman garb. Steve wore the short kilt of a Roman Legionnaire, topped with a tunic split down the front and held together with three short gold chains with alligator clamps on either end. Not only were they functional, but were the perfect length to connect to a pair of cunt lips or balls later in the evening. A heavy gold belt and sandals laced up his calves completed his attire. Deana wore the flowing toga of a priestess of Bacchus. Slightly see through, it was fastened by a gold brooch at each shoulder. Her short haircut revealed the long curve of her neck which was draped with an intricate necklace of gold filigree. Simple leather thongs were on her feet, and she wore thong panties beneath. Steve drank in the sight of her like a thirst-crazed man in the desert.
It was rare for Deana to attend a sex event with Steve. Of course she knew of and approved his activities, but she just was not as sexual an animal as her husband. She knew that other women would not understand, but she genuinely did not have a jealous bone in her body, and she most loved life when Steve was truly happy. He was deliriously happy these days, and she knew she would deny him nothing because of it. Their unique relationship was mutually fulfilling and rewarding, and she was growing in many ways even she could not imagine.
"Thank you for coming tonight. Feel free to leave anytime you want," said Steve as he broke their embrace and opened the front door.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world!" enthused Deana as she stepped out onto their porch. "You've worked so hard for this, I hope you can let yourself go and really enjoy yourself tonight without worrying about work or me or anything else. You've earned it."
"Well, I do appreciate it, and I know you know I love you first and foremost, no matter what else I do," Steve pecked her on the cheek and took her hand as they walked down the hill into the grounds of La Playa.
45 minutes later Steve stood up and a huge gong sounded. All the guests, Activities staff, and Dungeon staff were seated on opulent cushions before low tables on the ballroom veranda. The tables were laid out in a huge rectangle, with a large open area in the middle and many cushions and pillows scattered both inside and outside the angles. Torches lit the scene under a cloudless night sky, a soft breeze wafting the scents of the thousands of tropical flowers on the property across the tableau.
"My guests, friends, Romans, countrymen...okay I guess I could get carried away pretty easy here...welcome to our first Bacchanalia and thank you for being here tonight. It has been a wonderful week. Thank you for making our opening such a success and for your patience with the few glitches we've had along the way. I hope you have enjoyed yourselves and continue to enjoy yourselves until your planes depart tomorrow. Yes, there is sadly a tomorrow, but tonight is ours. Tonight we celebrate old friends and new lovers, successful days and happy homecomings, and we do so in the context of Bacchus, the Roman God of Wine. Bacchus holds a special place among modern swingers, for it was he who lubricated the orgies of old."
"Worship of Bacchus denoted the worship of pleasure, carnal love, food, and the good life to the Romans" he continued. "Bacchanalia were frowned upon by the more staid members of Roman culture, but eagerly sought out by those who understood the joys of complete abandon. I urge you to emulate them tonight. If there is a kink you have not tried feel free, you are among friends. If there is a person you want to fuck reach out and seek the pleasure. We swingers are known for our moderation in drink during parties, and I encourage you to maintain enough control to understand if someone says 'no' to you. But please taste and savor the many wonderful wines we will offer tonight, and taste and savor each other as well." He reached down and lifted the goblet of red wine at his place. "I give you the Toast of Bacchus... to Love!"
With that Steve drained the goblet and a group of live musicians and dancers, from barely clad to totally nude, many made up as nymphs and faeries, skipped into the center area and began a frantic dance of lust and libation.
Servers supplied the first course of wine, a tangy Pinot Grigio, with cheeses and fruits on huge trays as the troupe of entertainers put on a series of sexual tableaux. Each time the music changed tempo or key the dancers changed partners and sex act. The guests were delighted and inspired. In between sips of the cool white wine or nibbles of fruit or cheese they kissed and caressed their partners and the people around them. Even though they had all been involved in copious sex with numerous partners all week, the energy being released tonight crackled and snapped like electricity. Each touch sent a shockwave through the subject and returned a sizzle. It took only moments for most of the guests to forget the performers and begin a performance of their own.
True to her word, the gorgeous redhead named Judy had been waiting for David and John at the entrance to the soiree, a two-inch black leather collar fastened around her neck with a leash attached and held in her hand. She had added matching nipple and clit jewelry, and wore simple sandals on her feet, but was otherwise nude. David, Lisa, John, and Carolyn came walking in married pairs around the corner. They slowed and stopped as Judy fell to her knees and offered the leash to David, who stood closest to her. She had noticed the flame painted on Lisa's tit and thought how it matched her own burning need to submit herself totally to someone, preferably this beautiful man standing before her.
"Well, well, well, you are certainly eager, aren't you?" asked David, taking the leash and giving it a little shake.
"Yes, Sir," responded Judy quietly. "I yearn to give myself, heart and soul, to you and whoever you desire should have me."
"Sounds like we can have some fun!" enthused John. "What do you say, girls, shall we keep her as our plaything for the evening?"
Lisa's mouth watered at the full, upturned tits topped off with freckles, more prominent after a week in the sun, and red hair. "Yes, let's put her through her paces serving us tonight," she said, reaching out and running a hand under the curve of Judy's right breast.
