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and one day Id like to be the one youre with."
I smiled and took her in my arms, accepting a kiss on the cheek. "I think Id like that too, Terrice."
Worn out to the point of exhaustion, I slowly went into the apartment, falling asleep in the recliner, fully dressed.
Several days later, a package of rather substantial size was delivered by messenger. For quite some time I left it laying on the coffee table, unopened. Finally, when I couldnt stand it any more, I ripped it open, to find dozens of high quality photos of me in various positions, doing various things. The women Id met as I left were around me, doing things to me that I remembered quite well. I could make out several other women behind a glass panel of some kind, most in various stages of undress, some completely naked, watching my orientation while some appeared to be engaging in some activities of their own . Each activity was photographed at various stages from many angles. Some of them brought an embarrassed flush to my face, especially the ones that graphically showed my ass being penetrated. The size of the strap on, now that I could see it, almost frightened me. How could that monster possibly have fit in my ass? No wonder it was tender and shaking. The photos of my pussy were graphic, showing it, fresh and pink, splayed wide by many fingers, a tongue flicking over my clit. The longer I studied the pictures, the less clothes I had on until I was stark naked, with my fingers driving in and out of my wet pussy. After my second orgasm, I looked in the bag and found a card. "We sincerely hope that you enjoyed your orientation session enough to want to continue with us, either as a spectator or participant." A phone number followed with a note that requested that she contact a woman by the name of Melissa within ten days. An hour later, I dialed the womans number.
As instructed in the letter I had received after the orientation, I had dialed the number for someone named Melissa almost immediately.
"Hello,"
"Is there a Melissa Phelps there, please?
"This is she, can I ask whos calling, please?"
"Melissa, hi, this is Samantha. I was told to contact you"
"Oh yes," she replied, her voice warming and almost sensual. "How are you Samantha?"
"Still in shock I think," I relied, "and you?"
"Im doing fine," she replied. "Im sure youre still getting over the session. It takes a few days before it really soaks in. My purpose in contacting you is to try to set up a meeting where wecan review your orientation. Explain more about our organization, show you the benefits of being a member, and answer any questions you may have, and Im sure youve thought of many of those.
"Im still trying to believe I did it," I replied. "Im usually a shy, and somewhat private person, yet I allowed several women
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to have their way with my body in ways I would never have dreamt possible."
"Let me ask you this, Samantha. Do you regret your decision to participate?"
"No, not in the least, its just...I dont know...so not me, if you know what I mean."
"I certainly do, Samantha, and I think if you were to talk to other members, youd find that most of them went through the same self analysis youre going through. Have you given any thought to continuing in your growth?"
"Id be lying if I said no," I replied, "but there is so much I dont understand and I dont know much about the group at all."
"Thats exactly why Im calling you. Is there a possibility that we could get together this coming Tuesday, say about seven?"
I hesitated for a few seconds but I really did have a lot of questions, and it would be nice to have someone I could discuss them with, one-on-one, before I made any decisions. To be honest though, my body had almost vibrated for days afterwards and I wouldnt mind a little more of that level of satisfaction. "I think I can arrange that. Where would you like to meet?"
"Ill give you the address," she replied. "Its a favorite restaurant of mine."
The restaurant where we met was in a very upscale part of town. As soon as I stepped into the room, I was pleased by the hushed ambiance. Dimly lit, with soft music and widely spaced booths and tables, it was ideal for intimate conversations. The hostess asked my name, then directed me to the lounge. "Your party will meet you there," she said. As I walked to the lounge, I glanced around the restaurant. Across the ends of the room were several larger booths. In the back, rich ivory and gold drapes, tied back with ivory ties, marked the entrances to still larger areas.
Id dressed conservatively in a business suit with a white silk blouse to make the right impression and I noticed that several pairs of eyes followed me as I stepped into the lounge. As I waited, the cute little bartender served me a cola, æcompliments of the house, she said. I had no way to know to know what Melissa looked like, so I studied each and every woman as they entered. I had asked Melissa what she looked like, shed told me simply, "Ill find you, Samantha." As I sat there, I wondered if Melissa had been one of the women who had so deliciously possessed me just a few days earlier, although it seemed to be weeks. I casually scanned the others that were seated in the lounge. Was I being watched? Was Melissa already in the room and just taking stock of me?
As each customer entered the restaurant, I watched them as they moved to their tables or booths. A young woman wearing a soft pink sweater over a black skirt entered the restaurant, stepping to the hostesss desk. She whispered something to
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