Posted by red on February 16th, 2008 in Girl Sex, Kink, Lust

I couldn’t understand why the workshop wasn’t busier. As soon as I read about it in the programme I knew I had to be there. The write up said it was limited to 30 participants, and I figured space would be at a premium. But here I was, one of a dozen. Very strange. Who wouldn’t want to go to a workshop called “Cumming With Your Strap-On Cock”?

Ms. Danger finally joined me – lucky girl had a fresh coffee. I mooched a sip or two and wiped the sleep out of the corner of my eyes. It was already Saturday morning and I was already feeling sleep deprived from the night before. It was maybe too early to think about jacking off with a strap on – but hey, the workshop was then and only then.

The presenter did her thing, and the roomful of curious and obscenely alert women watched and absorbed tidbits with baited breath. Oohs from the audience confirmed new ideas. Thoughts were shared. Laughter floated through the air – the atmosphere got mellow. After a while, the presenter shrugged and said “Well that’s pretty much it, any questions?”

“I think you said you were going to show us,” a spiky haired woman beside me called out. Some yeahs of agreement floated through the crowd. The presenter blushed and hummed and hawed and then agreed, but with one caveat: the audience needed to participate, there was to be a whole room filled with women masturbating their cocks.

I couldn’t tell you how it began – I think a cute little red headed woman with glasses a few seats away announced that she was exhibitionistic enough to join in as she pulled a red leather harness from her hand bag. The next think you knew, there were a few other women who pulled out harnesses as well. Ms. Danger got up and prepared one of the provided dildos with countless condoms and a small bundle of cotton balls (a clit nub, for grinding), just as we’d been shown earlier in the workshop. I shrugged and pulled out my feeldoe and harness, pulling down my pants to place to feeldoe and strap it into place.

The room was filled with this amazing energy – the scent of arousal was heavy in the air, the sounds almost hypnotic. There was a symphony of sexual coos from all the women jerking off with their strapped on cocks. We were all sprawled out on the simple foldout conference chairs – legs spread wide, bodies slouched. I pulled on my cock ever so hesitantly – this was just all rather new and I was taking my sweet time processing it – and a jolt ran up my legs and deep into my pussy as the bulb inside of me wiggled in response.

A limber long haired beauty readjusted herself onto the floor, lying down off to the side, facing the ceiling, and roughly stroking her cock. Hers was red and jelly looking, with a wide base for strapping on. She was ramming it hard against her mound as she jerked it off. I could see her cheeks flushing and I could feel her mounting frustration in the way she was breathing. It was like the presenter said – damned hard at first, and it takes practice to do it well. I jerked myself off harder – I could feel the edges of orgasms surging through my body. The feeldoe is awesome that way.

The breathing in the room was heavier, and looking around I saw many delightful images. I was like a kid in a candy shop – there was future masturbation fodder everywhere. Some of the women had taken to bypassing their strap on and were fingering themselves beneath the base of their cocks. Others still were smashing their rubbery appendages harder onto their mounds, grinding in the base whilst rocking their hips. I myself was flushing red all over – my pussy was blooming and drooling and calling for me to give it release. I jerked harder. I closed my eyes to feast upon the non-visual stimulus happening around me.

The scent in the room was hard to define by standard terms. There’s a taste that is “exotic” to the North American palate – something other than sweet, sour, salty and bitter. I know it by its Japanese name – umami. It is the flavour of the amino acid glutamate – in solid, sprinkleable form it is called MSG (Mono Sodium Glutamate) – and it is deliciously savoury. Mushrooms, red meat, cooking sherry – rich and delicious. Rich and Familiar. To me, the scent of a woman’s arousal is reminiscent of that taste – delicious and savoury and impossible to define in terms of sweet, salty, bitter or sour. Savoury defined the powerful bouquet wafting through that room. Delicate, with that undertone of richness, spiked with fresh and sharp high notes, and musky low notes. It was a perfume unique to the moment, to the arousal of those dozen women. Never smelled before; never to be smelled again.

The sounds of arousal in the room were equally overwhelming. Something strange happens when large number of women masturbate in unison – their moans become one; their cries, although still singular, become part of the one unifying medley reverberating through the room. There were groans, wails, shrieks and coos - all together, all at once, all in some sort of unison. It was the sound of women fucking – every noise that you could possibly make, all at once. It was a powerful aphrodisiac; it ran straight to my cunt. I heard my own gasps punctuating the melody in the air. I was dangerously close to falling over the edge.

“Can some one, please, pull my air?” asked someone, suddenly. I opened my eyes to see a woman in a schoolgirl costume glide down to where the lithe dark haired beauty was furiously masturbating beneath her jelly cock. The schoolgirls’ right hand snaked forward and combed through the beauty’s heir, teasing for a moment before her fingers snapped shut and her hand started to pull away slowly. At that moment, the room was jolted with the wails of an orgasm, the voluminous pants, and the guttural groans from deep within the beauty’s belly. I tore my eyes off the scene before me – all around the room eyes were closed in a private heaven, or watching intently as the last of the beauty’s orgasm danced across her laboured face.

And then, like dominos, the other women in the room fell over the edge. Shrieks came in series, one crescendo smashing into the next. Only a handful came, of course, but the energy in the room jolted and zapped enough times that it felt like everyone did anyways. This was the most frantic moment for everyone – breathing intensified, fingers centered in on hot spots and pleasure surged through us all. Screams, moans, pants – noises erupted from all around. My head felt dangerously drugged from the sounds, sights and smells around me. I pushed the feeldoe into myself - *hard* - and arched it forward. In my shoes, my toes tried to curl in upon themselves as my body slipped down the slope towards release, coming gently and for a long time as I feasted on the sensual banquet displayed before me.

And then, almost like we all knew it was ending, we started to put ourselves back together. A knock came at the door – the next lecture was about to begin, and we needed to vacate. The presenter thanked everyone for their – ahem – participation as we readjusted out clothes and tussled rumpled hair. As I helped put chairs back in order, I looked around and see all of the rosy fresh faces smiling and giggling over what had just been shared.

I’m pretty sure it was an experience no one there would be forgetting anytime soon.