Mr A has done it again! Another spectacular evening of orgiastic proportions!
Image by Janicotte.
Christine, Harriet, Mr A and I were to meet at the Picadilly theatre to see Moulin Rouge together. Then the plan was to return to my boudoir for one of Mr A's renowned Orgies, where TS Belle would join us for some Ooh La La! And some how's your windmill.
Christine is lots of fun. We've been friends for years and done lots of duos together. She's so refined and classy. You'd never guess she's been on more sausages than Heinz tomato sauce.
I've been friends with Harriet for many years too but this was the first time we'd done a duo together. Her WhatsApp status updates are always a highlight of my day. Lots of slow motion gifs of her boobies jiggling. I could watch for a lifetime. Hollywood treasure. I know she's always lusted after me too. There's always been palpable sexual tension whenever we met. My sex palp is tensioning up right now just thinking of her.
Where was I. Ah yes, the theatre. I arrived just in time to see Harriet's boobs emerging from a taxi. They do sling those things low. The taxi, I mean. Not the boobs. Those are gravity defying. I swooped in, majestic, like a bald Eagle, and proffered a talon to help her out of the cab. Likewise, Christine accepted my genteel assistance. She'd have managed without me. I know Christine is very flexible and supple. Once we bumped into each other at the gym and she demonstrated her yoga positions for me. A scene I re-enact in my imagination on a nightly basis.
I had a minor trouser situation but managed to do a three legged CanCan for a few steps whilst thinking of England and made it into the theatre respectably bipedal.
We met Mr A in the lobby and there was lots of flirting, kissing, greeting long lost lovers. Both Harriet and Christine were show stoppingly sexy in their little black dresses. Christine bestowed a gift of Swiss chocolates upon us all delivered lip to lip via kisses.
We caught up over drinks and may have made a bit of a spectacle of some four way public displays of affection but Mr A and I managed to keep proceedings relatively appropriate, at least for an adult audience. He knows both girls are a bit of a handful individually, and outrageous when they're together. I'd been tasked with directing our companions and mostly succeeded in wrangling their ladyships from lobby, to bar, to our theatre seats without causing too much offense to the more reserved members of the theatre crowd.
One lady did attempt to shush them in the interval. "you're being awfully loud!" was the admonishment. Christine responded in the exact, precise tone and delivery the admonishment was delivered. Her spot on mimicry of her assailants clipped, RP, uptight, boarding school matronly speech pattern was hilarious. Her rejoinder was "oh I'm so sorry, we shall cease forthwith! What we were doing was simply beastly wasn't it?" then in her own voice "it's called 'having fun'. You should try it sometime."
Left speechless. And not the first person. Not even the first person that evening for Christine or Harriet to have that effect on.
The show was awesome. Brilliant cast, costumes, stage design, song and dance, great acting. I liked the actor playing Toulouse Lautrec's preposterously French approach to the role. Too funny. The story is not exactly sexwork positive. The world needs to see more consensual sex workers enjoying their lives and empowered by their work. Fewer downtrodden stereotypes desperate for a man to come and rescue them. But Moulin Rouge is great fun and I wouldn't want to change the story to make Sabine more like a 2022 sexworker.
After the show we jumped in a taxi and got back to my place just in time to find TS Belle waiting for us in my front steps. She'd arrived a few minutes earlier and looked absolutely stunning.
TS Belle is Thai and looks like a Ladyboy cabaret star or beauty pageant champion. Tall, slim, long legs, impossibly perfect skin and toned body. She has a radiant smile and is cheerful and friendly. Perfect manners until there's any hint of kink. Then she reveals herself to be just as depraved a pervert as the rest of us.
I'd prepared my flat earlier to ensure the lighting, décor, temperature etc would be perfect. I'd ridden my bike to Fortnum and Mason especially that afternoon to purchase wine, champagne and fancy snacks. The piece de resistance, Macaroons. I got a box of 16 of them. One in each flavour. These were a hit. Tricky to cater for an orgy. Usually a lot of the party food we put out for orgies gets overlooked in all the excitement but pro tip for future reference, orgy-goers do eat macaroons.
The second Christine got her hands on one she split it in two and stuck the two halves on Harriet's nipples, inviting Mr A to come and help eat half the macaroon and lick her nipple clean. Can't be having sticky nipples. Brilliant. Once we'd repeated this trick on all 10 nipples present and had toasted with champagne, we were all pleasantly buzzing from the bubbles, on a sugar high from the macaroons and half naked from disrobing to access nipples for licking sugary sweets off of.
I put some French house music on the play list. Stéphane Pompougnac a la Hôtel Costes set the mood nicely. I was tempted to go for the Moulin Rouge soundtrack but the ensuing karaoke renditions might have gotten a bit distracting.
We all piled onto my bed where I'd set up my f machine, had two magic wands, my doxy and Hitachi, a variety of toys and plenty of condoms and lube all within easy reach.
Before and after pics show chez Oz in full brothel chic splendour. The fucking machine mounted on the bracket I connected to my bed frame with plumbers pipe clamps is a lovely objet d'art. Really ties the room together.
Mr A was the star of the show and of course had the orgy equivalent of the VIP seats in specially catered boxes adjoining the runway coming from centre stage of the Piccadilly Theatre. Spread-eagled in the middle of my King size bed with the rest of us cavorting all over him in every configuration imaginable for four lithe and fucksome sexperts. 5 including the fuck machine which got road tested by Harriet who put that beast through its paces like the Stig throwing a supercar around the top gear test track. It handled well in the corners and had a lovely engine noise at full throttle.
For the final curtain call, Christine and I performed a yoga pose called the downward doggystyle, Astride Mr A's face whilst Harriet and the fucking machine danced a merry jiggy jiggy and Belle gave Mr A the Ladyboy handshake. A lying down ovation. To completion.