My husband and I enjoy going to Mardi Gras, now even more so than ever. The first couple of times we attended were in our hometown of Galveston and we enjoyed it a lot, although it is a pretty mild scene compared to Mardi Gras in the "Big Easy".
We saw things that shocked both of us and even though we are not exactly prudes, we didn't really get into a whole lot of the sexual revelry. True, with our inhibitions loosened by the alcohol and the party spirit, we both shared a few kisses and a little "innocent" groping with total strangers, but that was about the extent of our participation. One thing gnawed at us the whole year as we waited for our next trip, something that intrigued us that we didn't feel adventurous enough to try.
You see, being new to the New Orlean's experience, we spent most of our time seeing the sights and participating in the parades and the raucous street life, but one night we wandered into a little jazz club just out of curiosity. There was a lot of dancing to a really good jazz combo and we enjoyed that very much, both together and with other partners. There was one thing though, that we were really curious about. It seemed from time to time we kept noticing people, both singles and couples, seeming to disappear to somewhere toward the back of the club. Finally our curiosity got the best of us and my husband asked a guy who seemed to be a regular, what was going on back there.
The big man smiled and said that was where the "real" party went on. It seems the people who went back there were ready for a little more action than would be allowed in the public area with all the tourists and the occasional police checks. It was pretty much an any thing goes party only for the open minded and those not faint at heart. Anyone was welcome to participate and he suggested we check it out, eyeing me lustily. While our curiosity made us want to at least take a peek, we resisted that urge. Funny thing though, after we returned home, it was all we could think about. We even fantasized about what might have happened had we gone back there and without words both vowed to at least check it out on our next trip.
Our first couple of days were spent as usual, enjoying the parades and the street scene, but as we prepared to go out for the third night, we agreed that we would check out that club.
The first couple of hours, we wandered the streets and did a little bar hopping, but finally we made our way to that club. My husband could tell I was still a little uptight and uncertain about going to the "real" party, so for the first hour or so we danced and he plied me with more drinks until I was feeling no pain and very little inhibitions. Finally, we made our way into the back room.
My first impression was one of disappointment, not really knowing what to expect. I guess I expected a full-fledged orgy. As we found a table and observed, I did notice that the dancing was a lot raunchier and risque and there was definitely a lot more exposed flesh and more open making out by couples of both sexes. Still it was not nearly as wild as I had expected. That all changed a short time later, thanks to my suddenly adventurous husband.
We were dressed that night as a "Roaring Twenties" couple, my husband in his pin-striped suit and Fedora and I in one of those flapper dresses, short and form fitting with all that fringe.
As we danced, he moved behind me, grinding into my butt as he slowly lowered the top of my dress down to my waist, exposing my lush breasts to all eyes. Thank goodness, I had enough strands of beads on that no one could really get a good look. All they could see was the beads moving as he fondled my breasts, making my nipples rockhard as he ground his growing erection into my tingling butt. Still, he had gotten the attention of several of those nearby.
When I didn't protest his actions, he took things a step further, definitely drawing even more attention our way. Just as he had earlier with the top of my dress, his hands moved down and lifted my dress until it was gathered at my waist, exposing my long, shapely legs and almost nude, thong covered bottom. To make things even worse, his big hand moved to the tiny patch of red material that barely covered my clean shaven pussy, fondling it slowly before pushing the material aside, exposing me totally. This brought many suggestive catcalls and brought most of the movement on the dance floor to a standstill. I suddenly felt lightheaded, not as much from the booze I had consumed as by the fact that it was obvious where my horny husband was headed with his actions. He left me little time to ponder my own feelings.
"How about it, anyone want some of this?" he laughed, his words slightly slurred as he slowly slid a finger up and down between my rapidly moistening labia. I writhed against him, trembling as I realized he was offering me to any and all takers.
"How about you, Zulu?" he said, addressing a huge black man dressed as a Zulu chieftain, all the while one hand fondling a breast as the other fondled my now sopping sex. "You want some of this fine, white pussy?"
The dark giant let his actions speak for him, one huge hand on my husband's chest, pushing him away as he enfolded me in his other powerful arm. His thick, full lips crushed down on mine, his tongue entering my open mouth in a kiss that took my breath away. As I returned his kiss, his huge hands cupped my tingling butt, pulling me so close that I could feel the heat from the growing bulge beneath his breechcloth grinding into my suddenly churning belly.
"You don't need these." he roared for the crowd as he ripped away my wet panties, leaving me completely exposed for a second before his big hand covered my mound, causing me to jerk as he plunged a huge finger into my sopping hole. "You like that, white bitch?"
"Mmmmmmmmm....yeeaasssssss...love it...finger my wet pussy." I purred, writhing on his thick digit, eyes closed, my head lolling back drunkenly. "Make me cum baby. I need to cum so bad."
Just when my body started trembling, right on the edge of a much needed orgasm, he pulled away, smiling wickedly at the dilemma of a woman right on the edge. The gathering crowd roared their approval with raucous laughter and even more lewd remarks.
