Chapter 4

It was a few months later that I went back to the Masturbatorium. These thousand-dollar sessions were seriously drawing down my savings, but I got a nice bonus at the end of the year and figured that this was a good way to spend it.

This time, I remembered what Kim had said about “group sessions,” which were usually held on weekend afternoons. When I arrived at the shower area, the other participants were already there. I saw fifteen men and eight women there, all naked. There was just about every body type there ... chubby men, skinny men, women with flat chests, women with sagging breasts. They looked pretty much like the bunch you’d see at any nudist beach, except that all the men had hard-ons. Their cocks were of all sizes and shapes, from straight to curved, and they were all being stroked by their female attendants as the men watched the female clients being fondled by male attendants. The attendants all wore the usual mesh panties or cock cages.

I didn’t see James but, to my delight, Emma was there. She smiled at me. There was a different attendant with her, a man in his twenties with a lot of body hair and an impressively long and thick penis in his cock cage, who introduced himself to me as Peter. It was a name I remembered from my first session; he often worked with Kim, who was at that moment scrubbing down a portly gentleman in his fifties whose cock was pointed almost straight upward. Anita was there, too. She was the only attendant not already with a client, so she came over to me, pulled me under a shower nozzle, and started soaping up my rod until it was as hard as the other men’s. I also recognized Kim, Rita, and Andre from my previous sessions.

I heard a bell chime, and the attendants dried us off and led us to a large, open area, where two dozen tables had been set up. It was just as I’d imagined it, except for the lack of mirrors on the ceiling. I asked Anita about it.

“Oh, we got rid of those a couple of months ago. Now there are closed circuit cameras, and they project what they’re seeing onto the ceiling. It allows us to give you close-ups. We always record the sessions, of course, as they explained on your first visit. But with these new high-definition cameras, we can give you images even better than the mirrors. It makes everything so much more arousing than it was before. You’ll see.”

Well, I don’t know how it was before, but I had nothing to complain about. Along with the usual orgy of GIF-like videos, the projectors were showing each of us clients, in our own section of the ceiling. As I lay in the table, I moved my hand, and the image did, too. This was all in real time. I could see all twenty-four of us, naked, aroused, and ready for action.

The actual session proceeded much like the previous ones did, with the exception that instead of each client having his own attendant, the attendants circulated freely around the room. First it would be Anita masturbating me, then Kim, then a woman I hadn’t met, then Rita, and then two more women I hadn’t met. Then Peter came by. “Do you want to add me to your list of attendants tonight?” he asked. “Or would you prefer just women?”

I thought for a minute. Well, Andre had done a hell of a good job last time, so I told him that he and the other men would be welcome to service me. And that’s how it went after that. The women were giving us not only hand-jobs, but tit-jobs and full body contact massages as well. No attendant stayed with each client for more than a couple of minutes.

After Peter, I was attended to by a Black woman with the most amazing puffies I’d ever seen. She could play my cock like a piccolo, and within a minute I was firing my first salvo of spunk into the air, where it splashed onto her tits and dribbled down her belly. She laughed and said, “I’m not going to wipe that off! You’d be amazed at how that turns on the guys and gals when they see it!” (It turned out that she made it her business to get as much sperm aimed at her nipples as possible; by the end of the afternoon, there would be at least six ejaculations to accompany mine, gleaming on her tits and running down to her mons.)

Within the first fifteen minutes, all the men had cum, and a couple of the women, as well. (When I asked one of the new attendants about that, she said that some of the women had been highly aroused when they got there, and didn’t require much stimulation.) After that, it was pretty random for the next three hours, without much attempt to synchronize orgasms. It wasn’t really necessary; with all those people getting wanked, it was inevitable that somebody would be cumming at the same time I was. In my refractory periods, there were plenty of people to watch. Cocks jizzing, women squirting, faces contorted in the throes of orgasm ... it was every bit as erotic as Kim had said it was.

The images of my fellow clients stayed on the ceiling instead of fading out after the orgasms, as the videos did. So I got to watch several men and women as they were massaged, and they got to watch me. It was interesting to see the men’s bodies being oiled up, and their dicks being coaxed back to hardness, but I was staring more at the women. There was one lady with enormous breasts that seemed to have lives of their own as her body shook from the force of her orgasm, but I found the flat-chested Asian woman, with her fuck-me smile, equally erotic. And I must confess that I kept glancing at Emma almost every minute. Was it my imagination, or was she paying more attention to that area of the ceiling where my own image was projected?

Well, it didn’t take long for me to get hard again. For one thing, I had never seen so many naked people in one place getting wanked. For another thing, I had the pleasure of being tit-fucked by five women in a row, each one clambering on to the table and wrapping her breasts around my cock. After a minute or two, she’d be replaced by another woman. The fifth one wouldn’t let me cum between her breasts, though. Instead, she sat up suddenly and finished me with a hand-job. “Sorry,” she said with a smile. “I know you wanted to cum between my tits, but we had to make sure everybody could see you cum! That’s part of the deal here, you know.”

“I understand,” I said, just as the man on the table next to mine pump his own load of semen into the air, an act I could watch directly or on the ceiling overhead. “We’ve got to give ‘em what they paid for, right?”

“Right!” she said as she got off the table. And then it was Rita giving my cock its post-orgasmic tickle with her hands as she slid her small tits down my legs.

With so many attendants circulating, I couldn’t get a connection with any of them, but that wasn’t the point of this. It was all about sensation and sight. So many hands on my cock, so many tits pressing against me, so many orgasms happening all around me. This session exceeded so many of my wildest fantasies, fantasies that would have been unattainable even in the most frenetic of orgies.

In those three hours, I came four times, each from a different set of hands, and I still felt unsatisfied ... not because I felt cheated, but because I wanted it to last longer, I wanted to cum and be watched cumming, I wanted to see more cocks squirting and women writhing in ecstasy. That didn’t seem to be a problem with the rest of the clientele, though. You could see by the dopey smiles, and the limp dicks of the men, that they all had that lethargy that comes after a lot of sex.

Because of the large number of people who had attended, and the fact that they were checking people out in the order they’d checked them in, I was one of the last to get out of there. I had just left the building when a car rolled up to the curb and a window slid down. It was Emma.

“Are you doing anything for the next few hours?” she asked. “How about getting some dinner with me?”

“I don’t have any plans for the rest of the day,” I replied. “I’ll be glad to.”

We went to an upscale restaurant uptown, and she insisted on paying. While we ate, we chatted. She told me that she was an assistant editor for one of those glossy monthly magazines that every big city has, where you learn about what the movers and shakers are doing and where the best restaurants are. Her blouse was just sheer enough to let me see that she wasn’t wearing a bra; her nipples made tents in the fabric, and she was obviously enjoying my reaction to the display.

“You don’t have to call me ‘Emma’ anymore,” she said. “It’s about time we really got acquainted. My name is Melanie. What’s yours?”

“Joshua. Or just Josh. I guess we are more connected now.”

She laughed. “Connected? I’ve seen you cum seven times now! And you’ve seen me cum, well, I’ve stopped counting. I’m glad to meet you, Josh!”

“The pleasure’s mine! My I ask if you’re a regular client at ... that place?”

“The Masturbatorium? No use being coy about it! I think I’ve been there ten times. Eleven, counting tonight.”

“What do you like about it most? Watching, or being watched.”

“Oh, watching! And the orgasms, of course! I’m still buzzing from the last one! But it’s so fascinating to me, seeing how the expressions on people’s faces change when they’re cumming. And the fact that it’s safe sex. I never have to worry about getting a disease. They use some sort of disinfectant in the oil, I’m told. What about you, Josh?”

“Tonight was my fourth time. The last time, when we were together, was the first time I’d seen a woman masturbated. It was all I could think about for days. And I was hoping I’d see you again tonight. What a happy chance!”

“That wasn’t chance!” she laughed. “I set it up! After our session, I asked Kim to let me know when you’d next be there, and what you were looking for. When I got the call that there would be a ‘gang bang’ ... that’s what she called it ... and that you’d be attending, I made my reservation right away.”

“I hope you weren’t disappointed.”