The stiff cardboard was embossed with letters so subtle as to require me to tilt it in the light to be able to read the words etched on its surface.
“The Frisson Ball: for sexual adventurers, libertines and deviants”
I smiled wryly to myself. It would be safe to say that I fitted into all three categories – but then, if the invitation had come from the person I suspected, they already knew that. As I typed in the ‘private’ web address on the invitation and read about the delights on offer, my cock swelled in anticipation. This was one party I had no intention of missing.

***

It had taken me some organisation and not inconsiderable expense to prepare myself for the evening, but as I looked at myself in the mirror, I had to admit it was worth it. I’m not an arrogant man, but the short leather kilt wrapped around my hips left my strong and muscular legs on display. The whips, floggers and cuffs fastened to the belt added an air of menace, and my leather waistcoat showed off my torso in all its glory. I raised an imperious eyebrow at myself in the mirror, then laughed at my reflection. Yes, I looked hot, but posturing in the mirror was hardly the thing to be doing when I had a party to go to.

***

As I approached the entrance, my heart quickened and cock thickened. The queue ahead of me was temptation incarnate: women wearing basques, catsuits, dresses designed to reveal more than they concealed, and, in one gloriously brazen case, nothing but a feather head-dress. Men in chaps, harnesses and PVC, and people of indeterminate gender in outfits that left little to the imagination. A man in a wheelchair proudly displayed his sizeable package in nothing but a thong, and a woman I assumed to be blind had a guide dog of an altogether different kind – a man dressed in fetish ‘puppy’ garb. Just my kind of crowd.

***

By the time I handed my ticket in, my cock was straining. Everyone had been chatting in the queue and I’d already had enough invitations from fellow revellers to ‘join them’ inside to know that I was sure of an entertaining night. But first, I wanted to sample the sights.

The first thing I saw was the toy room. One woman was already straddling a ‘sex machine’ and clearly enjoying the motion of the dildo if her howls of pleasure were anything to go by. She’d attracted a small crowd, who watched appreciatively, and cheered when she reached her eventual destination. I admired the flush of redness across her chest, a sure sign that she hadn’t been faking orgasm, and was tempted to approach her to see if she’d like the real thing as much – but I had more to see.

An attractive couple ahead of me paused at a set of black curtains and peered through. Looking at the event guide we’d been given on entrance, I realised that it was the exhibitionists’ room – put bluntly, a space in which people could fuck while others watched them through slits in the curtains. The show inside was obviously doing the trick for this particular couple. I watched as the man slowly pushed up his partner’s skirt and slid his hand between her buttocks. She pushed her arse back against him and I watched as first one, then two fingers slid inside her. He turned around, noticed me, and whispered something in her ear. At first, I thought I was intruding and started to turn away, but when the woman bent over, spread her cheeks and looked over her shoulder to wink at me as the man continued his manual manoeuvrings, I realised that they were just as exhibitionist as the people they were observing. I could see the woman’s juices flowing over the man’s fingers, and wanted to taste them, but something about the way the couple were moving told me that they were here to be watched, rather than joined. I waited until the pair were once again lost in their sexual bliss and moved on.

***

I read the sign before I saw the area it was referring to: Groping Booth. Now that sounded fun. Drawing nearer, I read the instructions. “A hands-on experience – and everything else – that anyone can join. If the booth is unattended, go inside – if you dare”

The booth was just over a metre square, and had holes cut at appropriate points through which people could put their hands or cocks. One side of the booth had steps alongside it, leading up to a hole cut at mouth level - so the men could easily get fellatio from a standing occupant I guessed. The door was open, and the booth unoccupied. I decided that it was a good a place as any to start. The venue was filling up and I could see a crowd approaching the booth. I stepped inside, removed my kilt, and waited.

It didn’t take long for the first approach. In the dim light of the booth, I saw a hand push its way through a hole, at crotch level. I gave my cock a brief shake to make sure it was at a suitable level of hardness, then pressed it into the hand. It stroked me softly, to get my measure I guess, then wrapped itself around my length and began to pump up and down. At the same time, I could feel fingers reaching into the booth from behind, stroking my arse and sliding lower to rub my perineum. Soon more fingers were cupping my balls – I wasn’t sure whether they belonged to a third person or one of the first two – but I didn’t care, it felt so intense.

When I saw a cock appear through the upper hole, I was in two minds. I have no objection to being fondled by men, have even masturbated a few in my time, but I’d never sucked one. Still, it was a night for new experiences, I guessed, and the owner had thoughtfully sheathed his cock with a condom so what the hell.

I leaned forward and took the tip into my mouth. Gratifyingly, it hardened instantly, and I bobbed my mouth back and forth, trying to get as much of it in my mouth as I could. There were still hands on my arse and balls but the one stroking me had, disappointingly, vanished. Then I heard a cough and, looking down, realised it had been replaced by a mouth – with a condom between its lips, ready to be unfurled. The idea of sucking wand being sucked at the same time suddenly appealed, and I pushed my cock forwards – to the disappointment of the hands behind, which groped aimlessly for my arse. As I sank into the silken depths of the unknown mouth, and wrapped my own lips more firmly around the cock in my mouth, I was sure I was in heaven: the combination of giving and taking; satiation without expectation – this was what life was all about.

I moved my hand to the cock between my lips and started to wank it as I sucked. The owner clearly appreciated this and before long the cock was stiffening, pulsing, then softening in my mouth. Knowing I’d made a stranger come was such an erotic idea that I felt my own cock start to stiffen further, shooting sensations coursing through it. The mouth holding it clearly belonged to an experienced sucker, as it redoubled its efforts, moving faster and faster.

I visualised the view from the other side – someone on their knees, moving their head in an unequivocal way, being watched by others who were undoubtedly enjoying the spectacle. In my mind the owner was at once a pert young woman in stockings, being rigorously fucked from behind by her beau; a sophisticated older woman being tongued by her Sapphic lover; and – I was surprised to envision – a buff and toned man who loved nothing more than sucking cock. The overload of images was too much for me, and I spurted into the mouth, balls draining of cum, leaving me shaking and – at least temporarily – sated. I waited for the mouth to withdraw, then pushed open the door of the booth.

I deliberately walked away without looking at the people surrounding the booth. I didn’t want to know who’d done what: didn’t care. The night was young, and there was plenty more adventure to be had elsewhere. Seeing a door marked ‘dungeon’ I pushed it open. Whipping a pair of firm buttocks was just what I needed to help prepare me for my next dalliance…

To hear this story in audio format, download Sex Talk With Emily Dubberley (Show 5, Learning to Love Your Kink) from Audible.co.uk