Out-of-town trips are wonderful, especially when you squeeze in a libertine evening.
What could be more exciting than a swinger’s night out somewhere new, far from home, with strangers? The unknown has an unquestionable allure, and if it involves sex it becomes irresistible.
The allure of the unknown
It did not take much convincing to convince us to spend February 14, 2020 in Romania. The idea was super tempting, new things appeal to us a lot, then by plane in no time we would arrive at our destination. Joining us was a couple of dear friends with whom there is great sexual understanding.
None of us knew the event organizers, but we trusted them, and besides, experimenting is the only way to explore and learn. I hate people who say, “Up to there?” Those who do not move from their home radius are limited to knowing only what is most convenient and safe. I want to step over the boundaries to see what’s on the other side, then if anything, I’ll go back, but only after poking around.
Some people don’t drive an hour to make an evening of it. Not to go to work eh! To do something fun, so let alone understand the idea of taking a plane for just one night….
This is to say: get off your ass and move because good things are not always on the corner under your house. Then whatever, the bad luck of this case was that the party was a flop, but we would never have known that had we not gone there personally.
Experience always teaches something.
Hunger and sleep
Bucharest
surprised us. A city in full ferment with a great desire to grow. By day it smiles at you, by night it becomes intriguing. The streets are teeming with young people, fresh and modern venues. Impossible to get bored. But let’s tell one piece at a time.
As soon as we landed, we ditched our trolley at the hotel and dashed off to eat. Meat is one of the local specialties (I don’t love it but when abroad I always prefer local specialties). The lunch was great and so was the beer, lots of it, that accompanied us throughout the weekend.
Afternoon nap, as always before a few evenings. The warmth of the hotel and a full belly reconciled sleep perfectly. When we woke up, we very quietly got ready to go out for dinner. A bag for us girls to change clothes, because we were not going back to the hotel, and we were ready to go again. From downtown we would take a cab to the villa and get dressed once we got there.
Doubt begins to creep in
Bucharest at night is magical, somehow reminding me of Prague, a city where I spent a couple of months for an internship as a girl.
As everyone from outside came in to spend their Saturday night downtown, we wandered off to a secluded spot, away from the lights and noise.
The cab ride took about twenty minutes, as always I had the churning in my stomach. That feeling I love and loathe, I don’t think I could ever do without it.
The villa was really in a remote area, meaning there wasn’t a soul around except for the four of us. From the outside it was very nice, living up to expectations. From the gate to the front door my heels sank into the mud, I thought on the way out I would surely take them off and walk barefoot. I often do this on the way back from parties, I’m not squeamish I don’t mind walking down the street barefoot. Besides, being picky after a swinger party would be an understatement.
At the entrance there was immediately something strange. The couple in front of us were asking for a discount since the party had not been held the night before. At the time we did not understand, later we did. The discount at any rate, was not granted and the couple went in anyway, pissed off.
The guy in charge of the wardrobe was also the organizer of the event. He didn’t even give us a smile, his face was stiff and his forehead sweaty, as well as 10kg heavier than the photos on Instagram. Details. He took our coats from us, saying that no one would check them, so not to leave any valuables inside the pockets. He took our money and goodbye.
The sad reality
We immediately go to the restroom but it was a hole, very uncomfortable to change. I slipped into my long black dress and random lipstick, the premise not good, but the good mood still high.
The ground floor space was all dance area with an impromptu DJ but I like the
Balcana music
so I was happy. The lights were very low you could see very little but enough to notice that all the women were already in lingerie.
I hate situations where women feel they have to get into their underwear right away. What is the need?
The bar was the primary target, a little alcohol in the body, and the party could begin. But once we got to what could be called the food&beverage area, our balls dropped.
Disorganization of that levelis not acceptable at a party worthy of being called such (at that amount then). Paucity. The boys improvised bartenders immediately warned us that they were out of glasses and that there was only white wine (vinegar) and vodka to drink. Period. Zero food except for some leftovers from the night before, stuff that wouldn’t even feed a baby bird.
Incazzatura first
But how can you organize an event and not think about alcohol? To the glasses, to the food…abc my goodness. With difficulty we try to gloss over it; after all, we were not there to drink and eat but to do something else.
We mingle with the local fauna but with great difficulty because no one was really dancing and no one really wanted to converse (but neither did anyone really want to fuck apparently). I’m only attacking a couple because she looked like
Lucilla in the movie “Gladiator.”
. I find out that the husband was very Italian, but we did not go beyond exchanging a few jokes. Upstairs, on the other hand, were the bedrooms, if I’m not mistaken three in total, very few. To our disappointment there was no one secluded in some corner humping, someone was wandering around the rooms like us looking for something to watch or do.
At that point we meet a couple of compatriots who tell us about the night before:
The party was divided into two evenings, Friday and Saturday. Too bad the power had gone out the day before, and the hours-long blackout made the party impossible. “It was freezing and pitch black” quote.
This explains why at the entrance the couple in front of us wanted the discount!
Taken aback, we went back downstairs and the moment we started drinking vodka, straight up, the evening took another turn.
Of course, I don’t remember the moment when we went from bum to total binge. But something I remember…enough to prevent it from happening again.
An unfortunate catch
Vodka was gasoline, and we were on fire in every sense of the word. The brains were laid on the bedside table beside the bed, the bodies had lives of their own.
Our friends had managed to bring a promising couple into the bedroom. She dressed up as a Slave, he as a Master (in the language of
BDSM
it means the submissive Slave and the dominant Master). On the surface they seemed very bold, but after a couple of minutes when all six of us were on the bed, the two of them walked away saying “too stronge” meaning we were playing too hard for them. Too much what? We hadn’t even started undressing!
In hindsight I deduce that we must have done, or said, something without realizing it. Vodka was gasoline, and we were on fire in every sense of the word. The brains were laid on the bedside table beside the bed, the bodies had lives of their own. Do you know an animal in captivity? Here.
The show
We remain the four of us on the bed. I like submission and have epic orgasms when my neck is squeezed, only something must have gotten out of hand because at one point I was struggling to breathe. Let me preface this by saying that the boy of the friendly couple is a fruscello made of nothing but muscle. I have more fat mass than he does. The combination of muscle, poor alcohol + horniness did not pay off. We all paused for a moment when I objectively ran out of air, the hands on my neck were squeezing so tightly that the necklace exploded and all the beads were bouncing around the room. When I came back to life and my eyes returned to their sockets, we realized that a harem of spectators had been created around them.
The audience pissed us off but at the same time had excited us even more. What the heck are they watching? Unite no? Nothing, no one would come off the wall.
I don’t remember well but I’m sure we screamed and very heavy slaps flew. I was fucking my friend’s boyfriend while Fausto was fucking her.
I remember I kept saying “hurt me,” and I was actually taken at my word.
We went on for an unspecified amount of time, clothes were strewn everywhere, it took us forever to compose ourselves and drag ourselves downstairs. Once the euphoric effect of sex was over, the annoyance at the shitty place we were in and the shitty people around us returned. We called a cab and went back to the hotel.
Sobriety
The next day we spent it at a restaurant table trying to move as little as possible, repeating excuses to each other and promises of “never again.” I could not move my head because of the pain in my neck, struggled to open my mouth properly because of my sore jaw. I had bruises all over my body and fatigued legs as if I had run 10km the day before. The other girl was also in much the same state as me. We blamed it all on the crappy alcohol, but the truth is that on that bed we turned into wild animals and were dangerous to ourselves.
It did not happen again. Lesson learned.
A warm embrace from your Libertine Queen
Mia
