1986 Los Angeles

Club Nightwear took Los Angeles by storm. On the weekends, it was nearly impossible to get in unless you knew somebody. Though thematically distinct, it was often compared to New York’s famed Studio 54. Sylvie was not one of ‘the people’ who could get in on the weekends, but she was there during the week.

Tuesday was Black Night. Only black underwear or lingerie was allowed. Sylvie handed her coat to the coat-checker. Because the club’s theme was lingerie, even in the swelter of summer, people lined up in light coats that concealed their outfits. Sylvie wore a long lab smock over her see-through peignoir. She opted for no bra and a black bikini thong that would make even the boldest Miami Beach vixen blush.

Her first stop was at the bar. Sylvie always opened the night with a shot. Tonight, she wanted a real kick and ordered a kamikaze, which was also the special. She headed to the dance floor. It was lined on two sides with a zigzag wall of mirrors. As she moved around the dance floor, checking out the mirrors, the club was not crowded, maybe at half capacity.

Sylvie found a spot where she was in a corner of the mirrors. The single guitar strum and rapid drum beat, followed by Martin Gore’s vocals, made Sylvie flow to the beat of “Stripped”. To Sylvie, the DJ was on point. She rotated as she danced, watching the others and then herself reflected in the mirrors. She ran her hands over her body, thrilled that she was moving and that she was not only enjoying the physicality of the dance but also the awareness that she was being watched. In a way, she felt like prey on the savannah; there were more men than women, and most of the women were in couples. So far, though, the guys were standing off.

"Stripped" gave way to "A Night Like This" by The Cure, faster, but still sultry. Her hands slid up as she looked at her reflection. Her hands were under the flimsy material, pulling it up, revealing the threadlike back of the bikini wedged in her firm ass. She knew the guys were focused on her now. How could they not be? The way she moved, her blonde hair shoulder-length, and when she turned, the look of invitation in her eyes.

The beating drum and strumming guitar signaled a new speed, and one of Sylvie’s favorites.  

“BILLY!” she screamed.

Sylvie threw herself into a twisting dance groove. She sang along as “Dancing With Myself” rang across the club. Sylvie’s long locks whipped around as she really went wild. It was many an erotic dream where she took Billy over and over; his music always got her hot.

The song ended, and the steady beat of Bryan Ferry replaced the frantic beat that stripped Sylvie of breath. She was undulating like a snake to “Slave to Love”, her arms underneath her hair as she raised them above her head. Two single guys had closed in on her. Sylvie was turned on, as she always got when she danced. Something about tonight was different, though; she felt the need to feel her hands on her own skin. The men watched hungrily for a peek under the dressing gown as she lowered herself in a gyrating squat.

“True” sounded true across the dance floor, the lighting muted. Sylvie backed against the mirror and her hands cupped her breasts, fingers rolling her nipples. He tilted his head back, and there was no more pretense of dancing. Her left hand slid down and started rubbing the outside of her thong. If the lights had been brighter, the wet fabric and her erect clitoris would have been visible. The song ended before she could orgasm. The tall redhead announced he was Kirk, and he guided Sylvie to the bar. She gulped down water and then took a Slippery Nipple shot. Kirk led her to a table in the corner, which the other guy, David, had already claimed.

They chatted, Sylvie enjoying the way Kirk and David devoured her with their eyes.

“I won’t string you guys on,” Sylvie put forth. “I’m not sleeping with either of you.”

Kirk smiled. “Not tonight, maybe.”

Sylvie smiled at the confidence. “Perhaps.” She glanced at David. Then she stretched her arms above her head, the peignoir parting to reveal her breasts. Her eyes were locked on David’s as she exclaimed, “Oops!” and covered her girls up with a shameless smile.

“You looked so hot during the last song,” David said. His eyes darted down to Sylvie’s lap. Then back to her eyes. Laughter danced in her eyes.

“You looked hot.” Kirk chimed in. “And women touching themselves is a turn-on.”

“Why is that?” Sylvie asked.

“Some women use sex to be popular. Women who get themselves off are into it for the pleasure.”

“And a woman touching herself tells you she likes sex?” she asked. Both men nodded. Her hand slipped inside the gown and caressed her tit. Sylvie let out a moan. She looked at the men.

“What do men who like sex do without a woman?” Her hand slid down to the top of her thong. “Do they pleasure themselves?” She gasped as her finger ran across the thin fabric covering her clit.

Her legs spread apart, and her finger slid down the fabric. She moaned again and closed her eyes as she continued to stimulate her now burning pussy through the panties.

“Do men who like sex pull on their cocks?” she groaned. “Do they jerk their cocks watching me?” Her hips were moving as she masturbated for Kirk and David. Her other hand was fully squeezing her tits. She opened her eyes and looked at Kirk. “Show me your cock.” she moaned.

Kirk looked around, as did David. Then they pulled their black briefs down and pulled their hard rods out.

“Nice cocks.” Sylvie moaned. “Too bad I promised not to fuck you tonight.” She flicked her finger on the nylon-covered thong. She switched her gaze back and forth. “I love you both are horny enough to have your cocks out.”

“We want to share with you, Sylvie.”

Sylvie shuddered and groaned, her fingers pushing the thong into her pussy. She finally slipped the thong aside and plunged a finger into her soaked quim.

“Sh — share me?” The groan came from the depths as she penetrated herself deeply. Her groan was loud enough. David glanced around to make sure no one was watching.

“You want to both put your cocks in me?” She was fingering herself deeply. “Both cocks in my pussy and my mouth?” She was panting as she grew closer to the edge.

Both men stroked their cocks, equally long and hard. “Me in your throat and Kirk in your sweet ass, Sylvie.”

The blonde groaned as they described how their cocks would take her. Kirk slowed his stroking, clearly trying to hold back. David was equally struggling.

“I can feel you both inside me,” Sylvie gasped. “Fucking me.”

David moaned. “I want to fuck your pussy deep while Kirk fucks your asshole.”

Sylvie moaned as she slid three fingers into herself. “Have you ever both been inside a pussy together?” She panted, staring at Kirk. “Will you put your cock in me, rubbing on David’s?” she groaned. “Both of you cumming and your sperm mixing inside my cunt?”

“Fuck, Sylvie!” David groaned and cum shot out of his cock onto the floor.

Sylvie thrust three fingers deep inside and groaned. “Give me your hand,” she demanded and licked the cum from David’s fingers.

“I won’t fuck you tonight, but I wanted to taste you,” she moaned.

Kirk moaned, and his cum shot high enough to splash on the table. He rubbed his cum-coated fingers on Sylvie’s breasts, and she sucked them clean. She leaned back, and using two fingers on both hands, she fucked her pussy.

“Both of you in my pussy together” — she moaned. “Making me cum!” The men watched the blonde woman writhe as the orgasm consumed her. She shuddered and twitched and gasped for breath. Sylvie then offered her wet fingers to David and Kirk, who tasted her for the first time.