An Unexpected Orgy

The night was cold, and the cutting wind made me huddle inside my short-sleeved t-shirt as I walked toward the pub. My faded jeans, comfortable like no other, brushed lightly against my skin with each step. The neon sign of my favorite bar blinked in a faded red, casting a welcoming glow over the damp sidewalk. I pushed the aged wooden door, and the familiar smell of eucalyptus disinfectant mixed with the soft tang of spilled beer and the residual of cigarettes invaded my nostrils. The music, a classic 90s rock, echoed softly through the corners of the place.

I pulled my usual stool — the third at the counter, with the small notch on the right leg — and felt the leather already molded to my body. Eddie, the bartender, was drying a glass with his impeccably white cloth, the muscles of his forearms tensing with the movement. He raised his eyebrows in recognition.

— Gin with lemon, as always? — he asked, already reaching for the gin bottle before I even answered.

— You know me well — I smiled, settling better on the stool.

He poured the drink with a fluid motion, the clear spirit shining under the amber light of the bar before mixing with the fresh lemon. The ice tinkled musically in the glass when he slid it toward me.

— So, how's the book launch going? — Eddie leaned over the counter, his eyes curious.

— Finally done — I replied, raising the glass in a silent toast before taking the first sip. The gin burned smoothly down my throat, followed by the acidic freshness of the lemon. — It's already in the bookstores.

— Finally getting your vacation, then.

I smiled, feeling the weight of weeks of work slowly dissipating.

— A few weeks late, but yes.

Eddie laughed, a hoarse and familiar sound, before moving away to serve another customer. I turned on the stool, looking for an empty table, but the pub was fuller than usual. I resigned myself to staying at the counter, watching the comings and goings of people while the alcohol began to warm my body.

On the third glass, when the world already seemed a bit softer around the edges, a voice called me from behind. It was melodic, warm, and completely unknown. When I turned, my eyes met hers — a black woman in her twenties, with a red dress that seemed to defy the darkness of the bar. The fabric fell in silky folds over her body, with a generous slit on the right thigh that revealed a glimpse of lustrous skin. The neckline, audacious, molded to her breasts like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination.

— Hello — she said, her lips curving into a smile that made my stomach tighten. — Can I sit here? — Her finger, adorned with a simple silver ring, pointed to the stool next to me.

— Please — I replied, trying not to stare too much at the way the dress fitted her curves when she moved.

She slid onto the seat with feline grace, the dress whispering against her skin. Her brown eyes, warm like honey in the afternoon sun, fixed on mine. Her hair, a crown of shiny black spirals, cascaded over her shoulders, swaying lightly with each movement.

— What are you drinking?

She leaned forward, and her perfume — something sweet like vanilla, but with a spicy undertone — enveloped me.

— Gin with lemon. Want some?

She smiled, a slow and calculated gesture, before extending her hand and taking my glass. Her long, delicate fingers wrapped around the glass as she brought it to her lips. I watched, hypnotized, as her neck arched slightly when she swallowed.

— Not bad — she murmured, returning the glass. Our fingers touched, and a spark of electricity ran up my arm.

— Eddie, two more, please — I asked, without taking my eyes off her.

— I'm Kiara — she said, extending her hand again, this time in a formal introduction.

I introduced myself while taking her hand and bringing it to my lips, feeling the softness of her skin.

— So, what are you doing here, on a Friday, drinking alone? — She leaned back on the stool, but her eyes remained fixed on mine.

— How do you know I'm alone? — I teased, taking another sip.

— Well, maybe I've been watching you.

— Oh, really?

— Just a little.

We laughed, and her sound was like crystals clinking, light and musical.

— Actually, I'm celebrating — I admitted, feeling the alcohol loosen my tongue.

She smiled, a slow gesture loaded with intention.

— If I say I know the reason, will you think I'm a stalker?

I laughed, feeling my chest warm.

— Maybe. Do you know?

— Well, let's say I'm your reader and that I recognized you. Let's also say I know you just launched your new book.

I tilted my head, surprised.

— Well, I'm flattered then.

She bit her lower lip lightly before speaking, her eyes shining under the bar's light.

— Can I... ask you something?

Her tone was a mix of shyness and boldness, as if she knew exactly the effect she caused. I nodded, unable to look away from her lips.

— Of course.

— Can I kiss you?

The question hung in the air between us, loaded with an almost palpable tension. I hesitated for a second. Not out of doubt, of course — I was crazy to kiss her since she sat next to me. She was beautiful, stunningly beautiful. I just hesitated because it seemed too good to be true, it seemed like nothing more than a dream. But then, faced with my hesitation, she brought her face closer to mine, as close as possible without touching. I could feel the sweet aroma of her perfume mixed with her fresh breath…

— I want to feel your lips — she whispered, her voice very low, almost inaudible.

And I crumbled.

I approached until our lips finally touched, lightly, and replied, also whispering:

— I'm all yours.

And then she kissed me. A slow, hot, and lingering kiss. Quickly I felt my pants tighter than before, my cock getting erect immediately as her tongue wandered through my mouth. Her soft and warm lips made me lose my breath. And then, suddenly, she separated her lips from mine and pulled her body back a little. She took her glass and drank another sip of the drink, while looking at me and smiling mischievously.

When we parted, she was breathing faster, her dark eyes now almost black. She took her glass and took a sip, her lips still moist from our kiss.

— Wow — she said, looking at me. — Besides being handsome, you kiss really well.

I smiled.

— I think I can say the same about you, then.

With a smile on her face, she watched me for a few seconds, as if gathering courage for the next words. Finally, she broke the silence:

— I want to make you a proposal — she said, her voice a little lower.

I brought my face closer, curious, still with her taste in my mouth — and a desire to experience much more.

She pointed to a table in the farthest corner of the bar, where six other women were sitting. All young, all beautiful, all watching us with interested eyes. One of them, a blonde with a neckline that rivaled Kiara's, smiled and waved lightly.

— Me and my friends are very interested in doing, let's say... an orgy. — She paused, letting the words hang in the air. — The seven of us and you.

I looked at her, waiting for a laugh, any sign that it was a joke. But her eyes were serious, her posture confident. I looked at the women again, and this time several of them were looking directly at me, some smiling, others with less reserved expressions.

— I know very well it's hard to believe this, but it's the truth — Kiara murmured, her hand finding mine on the counter.

I took another sip of gin, feeling the alcohol burn in my throat.

— So prove it to me — I challenged, half joking, half desperate to feel her again.

— Oh, really? — she asked and laughed, a low and sensual sound.

Her breasts almost escaped the neckline with the movement, and I couldn't content myself with just observing them; I wanted to touch them, lean over them right there, take both nipples into my mouth.

Kiara, noticing my gaze fixed on her neckline, moved with the grace of someone who knew her power well. She leaned forward as if to adjust the heel of her shoe - a perfect pretext for what came next. Her fingers disappeared momentarily under the neckline of the dress and, with a movement so subtle it almost seemed like an illusion, I saw the red lace bra slide under the fabric of the dress and fall into her lap. She grabbed it quickly, stuffing it into the pocket of my pants, her hands almost touching my rigid member over the fabric.

— Keep this as a souvenir — she whispered, her mouth very close to my ear.

Before I could respond, her hands found mine again under the counter, guiding them with gentle determination inside the neckline of the dress. The soft fabric tickled against my wrists as my fingers finally found the hot skin of her free breasts — soft as silk, as firm as they appeared, with nipples already perfectly hard against my palms.

— That's it... — she breathed, almost imperceptibly, when my thumbs began to circle her nipples.

The bar continued its normal rhythm around — Eddie counting change for a customer, a group of tourists laughing loudly near the pool table — while my fingers explored every inch of those generous breasts. Kiara maintained a serene expression, only the slight tremor of her lips and the rapid rise of her chest betraying the effect my touch caused.

— Can you feel how excited I get just with your hands on me? — she murmured, leaning forward as if to grab her drink, actually allowing me to squeeze deeper. — Now imagine when we're without clothes… when my whole body is exposed and vulnerable to you… when we're with my friends…

My fingers discovered that the nipples hardened even more when pinched lightly, and Kiara reacted with small muscle contractions that only I could perceive. She bit her lower lip discreetly when I began to massage in circular movements, alternating the pressure between soft and firm.

— If you keep this up... — she began, between moans, but interrupted herself when a waiter passed nearby.

I continued my silent exploration, learning every curve, every reaction of her body. Kiara kept the pose of casual conversation, but under the dress, her breasts told a different story — hot, sensitive, completely surrendered to my touch.

When I finally withdrew my hands (with visible reluctance), she adjusted the dress with a fluid movement, leaving only the slightly smudged lipstick and the shine in her eyes as evidence of what had occurred.

— Now do you believe me? — she asked in a normal voice, taking a sip of her drink as if nothing had happened.

My hands were still trembling slightly, impregnated with the sweet smell of her skin. I looked at the pocket of my pants where the bra was hidden, then at Kiara's victorious smile. I smiled at her, still feeling the sensation of her perfect breasts in my hands. I believed. But I wanted more. Much more.

— That was wonderful, but it still doesn't prove absolutely anything — I managed to say, my voice hoarser than normal.

Kiara laughed once more, and her breasts now bounced more freely inside the neckline. I had to fight against my own body to look into her eyes.

— So you want more concrete proof, writer?

She smiled, a slow and predatory gesture, that contrasted with the intensity of her gaze. Slowly, she guided my hand under the table, under the slit of the dress. My breathing quickened when my fingers found her hot and soft skin of her thighs. But she didn't stop there. She continued guiding me to the middle of her legs. I felt the thin fabric of her panties, until she used my own fingers to push the clothing aside. She was wet, soaked with pleasure. She released my hand and I explored her, stimulating her clit for a few seconds until a small moan escaped her throat.

But then, as suddenly as it started, she pulled my hand up and gently brought my fingers to her mouth, sucking them with a look that promised things that made my blood boil. When she finished, she released my hand, adjusted her posture on the stool, and watched me.

— Do you believe now?

— Maybe — I said, now dreaming of all the things I wanted to do with her. I couldn't even think about her friends. Just her would be enough to make me happy.

Kiara then brought her face closer to mine once again.

— I need to be honest — she whispered, her hot breath in my ear. — Besides knowing your work, I've seen you here before and asked the bartender about you. I know it must seem like I'm just messing with you, but it's true. We... let's say we chose you the other day we saw you here. The fact that me and some of my friends are your fans was just… a bonus.

She pulled back enough for me to see her face again, her eyes seeking mine.

— So, are you in?

I looked at the table again. The women were talking among themselves now, but several of them cast glances in our direction. An extremely attractive brunette absentmindedly bit her lips when she saw me looking at her.

— Maybe — I repeated, feeling my pulse quicken. — But it would have to be at my house.

Kiara's smile was radiant.

— To be honest, that's what I had in mind. All of us are on vacation here. We'll stay for three or four more days. The bartender told me you're taking some vacation too, so I imagine you have the freedom to stay at least a few days with us.

Blessed Eddie, I thought, imagining how much information he had shared. But the image of having all those women at my house, for days, was almost more than I could process.

Kiara took my hand again, her fingers intertwining with mine.

— So tell me: are you in or not?

She wasn't offering just one night, but days of pleasure. Seven women, seven bodies to explore, seven sets of lips to kiss. How could I say no?

— Well, I think we'll need two Ubers, right? — I replied, smiling as I finished my drink.