(words: 4600; would be about $230)
We arrived at the adult theater to find there was some kind of “party night” going on, with no idea what that meant exactly. But I parked the car and made sure I was put together well, then made sure she was ready to go in. I asked my girlfriend if she wanted to drink some more water first, and looked at her. My girl was so beautiful, so pretty, and kinda nervous which made me smile at her softly, reassuringly.
I had no idea what was in store for us that night, inside that building. Maybe nothing would happen, maybe life would change. But I took a good look at my girlfriend and noted under the nervousness was mostly her excitement and positive attitude, and just felt so much love and admiration for her. This was her first adult theater experience. We had spoken about it, what they’re like, what might happen--she wasn’t ignorant of the potential kinky and “nasty” sex she could see there, or experience, and she wasn’t at all scared of it. Nervous, sure, but certainly excited. And I loved and adored her for her courage and sense of adventure!
The three of us, me and my girlfriend, and her boytoy, walked in and I was immediately a little disappointed. The storefront of the place seemed a bit lackluster and even sketchy. Of course, adult toy stores are always hit or miss--some are actually very classy and comfortable, and some are a step up from a rural gas station. This was somewhere in the middle. But we were welcomed back into the theater area by the friendly employees and I was immediately taken by how many bodies were hanging around. And then, by how labyrinthian the place was!
All other adult theaters I’ve been to have been pretty simple affairs: an area with a few video booths with glory holes or peep windows, and maybe a larger theater area for a handful of people to enjoy some more group fun when, on rare occasions, a couple or cis woman shows up to play. This place, however, had many twists and turns and alcoves, offshoot areas. Some banks of booths, some areas with large padded tables and couches, a theater section, a play area with a padded platform. . . .
We walked through the venue taking it all in. I was getting a sense of the vibe, the tone of the place. There were easily 40 guys around, possibly as many as 60! And essentially, it seemed pretty standard in general attitude. I saw one cis woman giving a BJ, and in the back area, one woman in an orange fishnet bodysuit was taking on her share of guys apparently on her own, no partner giving protection or oversight. But, she seemed like a regular there, and the crowd of guys around her were pretty chill and cool. And naturally, my girlfriend being a cute and sexy cis girl, guys were looking at her everywhere we went, with some followers as we walked, clearly sharking for what they hoped would be eventual action.
Me, well, I wasn’t holding onto any delusions. I was dressed as pretty and sexy as I could, but as a trans woman with little passing privilege, I knew I was not an object of interest. And that was alright--I wasn’t there for myself.
By the time we’d watched that lovely show a little and made our way back to the front, I felt I got a pretty good sense of the place. Very “standard,” generally chill, not aggressive though certainly eager. I felt good about the place should girlfriend decide she wanted to do something.
We paused near the front and I found a well-protected alcove to stand in as we checked-in and assessed. Boytoy seemed observant as we walked; he agreed all seemed cool. I asked girlfriend how she was feeling: Good. Nervous. I asked her what she thought? Did she want to play a bit? Reminding her there’s no obligation, I’d be perfectly happy with our heading out and getting back to threesome fun on our own.
She looked up at me, the excited nervousness practically radiating off her, and she smiled. “I want to play.”
My heart swelled and my stomach tightened in the best kind of way at that. But I wanted, needed, to make sure I heard her right because an environment like this, once the door is opened, things can sometimes get a little chaotic and out of hand if you’re not careful. It was important to me to really get the level of interest she was meaning. I asked, “You want to play? You’re sure? You feel safe?”
She nodded her head in her adorably enthusiastic way. “Yes. Green!” And that’s all I needed. The last time she told me “Green” was our first in-person date months earlier, and our debauched and delightfully pervy relationship exploded to life at that declaration!
I said, “Okay, pet. Just remember, what you say goes: Safewords matter, and we can leave at any moment for any reason. Yes?” She nodded. I could see in her eyes that she was realizing Things Were About to Happen. She was almost bouncing. “Good girl,” I told her, my attitude already changing. Well, not changing per se as I was already in protector mode, but more . . . expanding. I smiled adorningly, with so much pride at her courage and enthusiasm, sense of adventure, and incredible sexuality!
I moved my hand up her arm to the back of her head. I hadn’t really thought of the details of this moment, or beyond, until now. All I knew was that if we’d gotten this far, I would be her protector and guardian, and facilitator of fun. How exactly? I wasn’t sure. But I did realize a situation like this demanded someone “take charge,” get things going. I would need to establish myself as being in control so that she could be free to have fun, let go, and just enjoy--safe and protected in order to have the freedom to explore.
I laced my fingers up through her hair, gripped the base of it in my fist, pulling her head back slightly, and kissed her. “Here we go, pet. . . .” then pulled her firmly, not cruelly, by her head over about 15 feet to a large round padded table and bent over it. She gasped, giggled a little, and leaned over on her forearms while boytoy came around the other side and stood by. I could see he was clearly more interested in looking out, being backup, but I wanted to make sure he could see I wasn’t blocking him out should he want to get more directly involved.
I pulled girlfriend’s dress up her legs and over her ass, exposing her to the guys who had already started accumulating. I was shocked, though not at all surprised, how quickly the crowd appeared. I made sure we were between the table and wall so that there was a bottleneck and I could manage the come and go of likely participants. And by the way many guys were looking at my girlfriend bent over the table, ass in the cool air, rubbing themselves--there were going to be many likely participants! And it started to hit me, I was preparing my girlfriend to get fucked by a stranger. No, likely more than one. I was innately setting the scene to be able to get my girlfriend likely gangbanged or have a train run on her! And the feeling of protective control came flooding through me.
I’d given up being a Dominant, a top, in all things kinky and D/s years ago, and absolutely so when my transgender egg cracked and I came to terms with the real me. But, something about the way I relate to my girlfriend in a core and primal way, brings out an authentic sense of loving dominance with her. A dynamic that in no way threatens the equality we have with each other in every way, but is simply a “flavor” of my dynamic with her. Here, in a situation where she needed someone to be watchful, in control, looking out for both her safety and her enjoyment--not because she’s incapable, but because she’s in a vulnerable position where all her attention and focus will be elsewhere, that feeling of being a Domme of many flavors kicked in. A service Domme, pleasure, and even a little sadist Domme, yes. But, more like the primal pack leader, Queen, looking out for her mate as she hunted with all her focus. (Or, closer in metaphor: As she gets rutted and bred by the pack, under my auspices.) And it was exhilarating! And it was exhilarating only because of who it was I was doing it with, and for. My girl, my pet, my best friend. This feeling, this desire of protective control is truly gone for me otherwise, except in these moments with her. And it felt like putting on an old and favored glove.
I stood taller. The shieldmaiden, the queen, the Alpha Bitch, as I looked around and smiled at the situation. My girlfriend bent over submissive on a table in full eager knowledge she’s about to get fucked. My hand on her assuringly. Men, little wolves with their dicks out, hard, dripping precum, panting at the opportunity to rut my lil bitch. The authentic joy I felt and gratefulness to her for giving me this moment, filled my heart! I could only wonder how these men, waiting for the sign to begin fucking, looked at me. Tall, maybe a bit of a condescending expression on my face as I felt truly like the Pack Queen looking over the horny pups. So what if they didn’t see me as a cute and desirable sex object like they do cis women. I couldn’t have cared less in that moment.
I firmly clenched girlfriend’s hair again and pulled her standing. I listed her dress up and over her head, with, well, only a little amusing difficulty. We both giggled as we worked it out, then I again bent her over the table wearing only her black bra and kneehigh boots. Fuck, she looked so sexy, so desireable--so slutty and unobtainable, both. “Mine,” I thought, or, may have even said aloud.
I caressed her bare ass with one hand while my other remained on her back, with both a controlling and a comforting pressure. Letting her know I was there as a firm and solid presence in addition to the person who was giving her to the pack. I started moving my hand down between her ass cheeks and thighs, pushing her open a little, to feel how wet my girlfriend was--and I was not disappointed. She was positively dripping. (To be fair, I was making my own panties rather wet.) “Mmm,” I moaned as I smiled, “oh fellas, I think my little slut here is about ready to get fucked.”
I looked at the first guy, my critical eye active as I scanned for aggression, cleanliness, drug-addledness, things I was curating for. On the contrary, he was a very attractive Black man, well-dressed, with a kind face. Could we be this lucky? I smiled at him, nodded at his very pretty cock, “Condom?” He already had one in hand and with that simple ask, he knew he was up! He quickly unwrapped it and rolled it on and my own increasing realization that I was about to see someone fuck my girlfriend for the first time was hitting hard!
Oh, I’d seen video of her being fucked by her boytoy a couple of times and, I’ll tell you, that is hot as fuck! But of course the mediation of being video certainly mutes the effect of it. Not to mention the vids are always in medias res with none of the anticipation or buildup. Here I was standing next to her, her wet pussy in my hand, feeling her deep, quick breathing . . . knowing she heard me, so she knew what was about to happen and couldn’t see it. Me watching it about to happen, dying to see it.
When he was ready, and his covered cock was standing proud and ready to go, I moved aside and placed both hands on her ass, gently parting her cheeks more as a sign of welcoming than assistance. He stepped up behind her, positioned himself, moved the head of his cock up and down until he found the place, and pushed himself in as I moved my hands up to her back so the guest could grab her ass.
My girlfriend gasped and groaned as this big cock she didn’t see violated her body. I caressed her back lovingly even as I was saying things like, “Oh that’s a good little slut! Taking that big, beautiful stranger’s cock like that! Good girl!” And take it she did! That first guy fucked her well, making her moan and grunt in raw, sexual expression. She made me so very proud with how into it she was, how taken by the experience, brave and free! In fact, I envied her so much in that moment, and that feeling would only increase over the next hour.
Before long, the guy’s fucking grew into slamming, and then slowed to a couple more thrusts before he slowly pulled out, and I saw the tip of his condom hanging from the weight of his cum. A stranger just came in my girlfriend (technically). I was so turned on it threatened to distract me.
Girlfriend really wanted to see who fucked her and, as exciting of an idea it was for her to never see rode her train, it was her party and ultimately I wanted her to have anything she wanted from it! (As it would happen, she would receive several visitors that night she would never get a look at.) She stood up, and I could see she was as impressed as I was. She even hugged him, thanked him and he thanked her sincerely before he moved away and she bent back over the table! She was ready to go, and that awe and pride I felt took a huge exponential increase. She was absolute sexual perfection in that moment! Lest there was any confusion, she was absolutely in control. I could see she was feeling sexy, desired, and so very wanting of this experience of wanton freedom and pure, raw, sexuality.
“Alright, fellas,” I said, resuming my role, “who’s next to fuck my little slut?” even as the next guy moved in. And for the next few guys, I stood there making sure condoms were put on, no one pushed or shoved, and kept things spicy by praising girlfriend’s whoreness and encouraging guys to fuck her well. Meanwhile, I was in heaven watching as my girlfriend took stranger after stranger, all pretty decent sized cocks, and all, from what I can tell from the state of condoms as they pulled out, coming inside her (again, technically). My own girldick was getting rather uncomfortable in my increasingly tightening panties.
After a few guys, it was time for a break, and I said so aloud, concerned how that would be taken as there were still several guys around clearly waiting for their turn. But, to my relief, they were quite agreeable. I helped her dress back on, hugged her, and asked if she was doing okay. She smiled this sleepy-looking yet thoroughly excited smile at me and assured me she was wonderful! I smiled back, unbelievably happy and glad for her and because of her, and helped guide her back through the bodies to the back area to sit for a bit.
We sat in the the area by where the woman in the orange fishnet was hosting her own gangbang, and we tried watching it, except that it got a bit more crowded as guys had followed us in. Clearly, the agreeable attitude with our taking a break was accompanied with no less enthusiasm and hopefulness in being next when the break was over.
Well, she and I are sluts, after all, so it wasn’t long before the temptation of cock became too much, and she took one of the guys who was standing around into her mouth. That, too, was thrilling and lovely to watch, seeing my girlfriend’s mouth around a lovely cock, stroking it with her lips, knowing I would be lovingly kissing that mouth later that night. I did feel a slight pang of envy that none of the guys standing around seemed to want to suggest I suck them; however, I understood, why would they? When a cute cis girl was right there. But I brushed it off as “per usz.”
And again the desire for cock urged things forward, and girlfriend stood up, turned around toward me with a mischievous smile, and bent over ass toward the crowd, opening herself up for business. It was difficult to stop smiling at my “twin sister” in shared delight so that I could still do my job making sure condoms were used and no one was being rough. Unfortunately, this moment of sexy-times was short-lived as the next guy had a problem with aim and hit the wrong hole. Girlfriend quickly tapped out and had to recover and, to the guy’s credit, he was apologetic. But that moment of accidental near-miss made for an extended break and we changed locations again to a more secluded alcove with an unused padded table surrounded by padded benches.
We: she, I, and watchful boytoy, chilled there for a bit. I assured her we were good calling it there if she liked; but, as it turned out, all she needed was a little recovery and the primal sexual drive was clearly back! I kissed her sensually, caressed her erotically, admiring her body and spirit, and together we removed her dress, and bra this time, leaving her only in boots. This was certainly sign to all that it was “game on,” and boytoy took position near the entry to the alcove as I resumed my space next to her and urged the guys already gathering that my slut needed more cock!
And for the next indeterminate amount of time, my girlfriend was a sexual goddess! She took cock from behind, she was spitroasted, she was put on her back on the table as I held her legs and was railed like a sextoy by cock that needed something to fuck! I was truly, deeply, enviously, in absolute awe of her and so proud it made my heart swell! I don’t think I stopped smiling at her admiringly the entire time.
At some point I was able to step back and marvel. I’ve always been in awe of women who are unapologetically sexual and in control of their sexuality. Who have drive and desire and seek to fulfill their wants and needs. And women who enjoy gangbangs, trains, DPs, have always been so impressive to me as empowered and incredible. There’s a certain degradation that often accompanies GBs and trains, and we, my girlfriend and I, knowingly play into that with the way I spoke to her and about her during this, and the fact she gets off on it. But in many ways it’s another form of BDSM in that, the submissive, the bottom, is the one technically in charge. And the degradation becomes a form of ownership over it. Like a reclaiming of the term “slut.” Which, in my opinion, is the most authentic when it’s someone who does this on their own, for their own enjoyment, as opposed to for porn. With porn, an argument can be made over exactly how much autonomy the woman has. A debate I’m not qualified to have an opinion on.
But there was no question that here, in that moment, as I stood back and simply took in the sight of my girlfriend bent over the table moaning and grunting around a cock in her mouth as another fucked her from behind, and I could see she was cumming from it (as she had been doing several times through the evening), she was doing exactly what she wanted to be doing. And everything I would say to spice the experience up by calling her a good slut, and a cock whore, was pure theatrics and for her enjoyment. Not theirs, not even as much for my own thrill. But every degradation was made with a foundation of utter respect for her, complete love and adoration, and a willingness to defend her honor as much as her body and well-being to literal death if need be.
And so I would find myself standing back as some guy was fucking my girlfriend, watching, enjoying, but, more than that, worshiping. Not to make an overwrought analogy, but watching my love use her body to please herself, to give pleasure to a dozen or so men, to take their orgasms within her body (regardless of covered by barrier), and release her own climaxes into the world, was a spiritual experience for me. Certainly an experience well into the sublime!
It was during this later phase of the adventure that she was also working the crowd in her own way! Making quips and jokes here and there, getting sincere laughter from the guys. Her humor, her active involvement and enthusiasm, her snarky attitude at time, just enhanced the positive general atmosphere that was felt was exciting and wonderful, where otherwise, it could have felt somber and more like the wrong kind of religious experience.
Sadly, well, more annoyingly perhaps, the only less than perfect aspect of the event was the vague sense of envy I felt, as throughout the experience, I found myself wishing it were me having it.
At one point there was something of a slight disagreement or issue going on over to the side. Fortunately, gratefully, as I was still keeping my focus entirely on her and safety-checking, boytoy had the issue in hand and resolved it so girlfriend didn’t have to worry about it, and I only had to keep slight attention that way, wary of trouble. But, as it happened, one of the fellows involved who was apologetic for his role and did not storm off in a huff like the other guy, happened to be lucky number 13! I had been counting individual cocks that fucked my girlfriend’s pussy, taking note of the one or two repeat visitors. And, having to keep my own focus somewhat limited, I was forced to ignore the number of cock she’d taken in mouth. So I had a solid count of 13 as I watched my girlfriend on her back, legs open and pussy still wet and swole, take this final cock while moaning around someone in her mouth. And after this guy, fucked her hard and came enough to fill his condom, and pulled out, girlfriend dropped her legs and called it. She was tired and sated, and finally needed to rest. When I told her what the number was, I was thrilled to see her amusement at the accidental fortune of the number itself accompanied by a look of self pride!
There was some grumbling as the remaining guys dispersed, but more than not, then and all throughout the evening, it was almost entirely positive comments of appreciation she received. Thanks and compliments of how beautiful and sexy she was! And I absolutely could not agree more. As boytoy and I helped her dress and sit on the bench next to him and I got her water, my adoring of her, my worship of her, was at its height! My girlfriend was beautiful and sexy and gorgeous and fun and just unbelievably amazing! I was so proud and in such awe at her sex goddessness, her embodiment of angel-succubus. My love for her can’t be raised or lowered by sexual adventure--it’s already at a solid and permanent maximum--but all the desire and adoration I could possibly have for her was certainly peaked in that moment.
We rested together, the three of us, as she caught her breath. But as much as the evening was all about her, wonderfully and enthusiastically so, she really wanted us to have fun, too. Which we assured her, Oh, we very much did! But she encouraged me to take the opportunity to also play some. I considered, and I probably should have reconsidered. Making sure she was okay and well and safe, I thought, why not. This theater was certainly far more busy than the ones I’m used to, surely I could get some action here.
So, I did move out a little more to an open area in the alcove and took my blouse off, leaving my bra and skirt, and got on my knees. I was only slightly embarrassed for a second before one guy decided he’d have some fun with my mouth, and I had a nice time sucking him off to cum on my chest! Emboldened, I took on a second guy, blowing him with my usual enthusiasm, and risked thinking, maybe, just maybe I could get my much desired blowbang here! Especially as a third guy moved into position in front of me. This guy, well, he took a while. And a while more. And I was getting rather tired, and kind of distracted, and noticed that really, there wasn’t more than maybe one or two other guys around. It had taken several minutes and the excitement of a possible blowbang waned with realization it wasn’t going to happen, and I finally tapped out, exhausted. But, mostly discouraged. I sat there a moment catching my breath, some cum on my chest, and noticing the contrast between the literal crowd of guys around girlfriend when she was having fun, and the two or three near me, and had to work to maintain my usual stoic, “Well, themz how it goes for us trans girls,” attitude as I put my blouse on.
Fortunately, the mood and vibe of our trio was still steeped in the positive orgy deliciousness of the night, and I cuddled back with girlfriend as she cuddled boytoy and me, smiling and lowkey giggling in delighted shock, until she was ready to go.
I helped gather us together, and led the way back through the guys and dim passageways to the storefront. Emerging from the dreamlike and timeless nowhere of the dark theater with the flickering light of porn on monitors, into the sudden reality of the world out there, was a little glaring and disorienting. But, we drifted our way back to the car where, somnambulantly, we got in, buckled up, and paused a moment. We laughed or giggled in different ways as the reality hit that just a moment ago we were in the back of that unassuming store, in a strange world, running a train-bang.
I kissed my girl deep and loving, tasting cock on her, and my own clit started swelling again to a needy girldick! I thought all along the drive back to town, that what I had most wanted to do, most should have done, was what I always dreamed I would do in that situation we just experienced. That after she was thoroughly used by the crowd, I would reclaim her as mine then and there among them all, breed her with my primal, possessive energy and desire. Well, it didn't work out quite like that then; though, later that night, when we were back alone together . . . I did not hold back!