An unnamed sex party

We walked down the Chelsea block, curious about just where this party was going to be, just what the cryptically acronymic location is.  As we got closer to the address in the e-mail, we saw the synagogue.  Could it be?  Holy shit.  Now, I should say, as a young secular Jew in New York, many of my formative sexual experiences took place in synagogues.  I’m not kidding.  Though first base happened in a movie theater, I’m pretty sure second and third both happened in shul.

We hung around outside while T finished her coffee (it was 10:45, the party went from 10-4, and we’re old – it was getting late).  She looked fucking hot in her denim shorts and black tank.  I was in jeans and a tight t-shirt.  The event was billed as a “light-hearted look at BDSM,” according to the promotional materials.  We watched a few folks go in – all attractive, interesting looking, ages ranging from late 20s to 50s, but definitely skewed younger.  The other one of these parties we had gone to was similar:  a LOT of hot people.

We went in.  The entry to the synagogue had been transformed – it was unrecognizable as a synagogue once we were inside.  The lighting was mostly nightclub blue, dark enough that while you could see people, you couldn’t see them too well.  Through the front hall, we signed in, and entered the main room – the synagogue’s social hall, where, no doubt, there had been an oneg shabbat earlier that day after a bar mitzvah.  The ceilings were low, and the room was square, but the party planners had transformed it.  On the right-hand side, close to the door, behind a crimson velvet curtain, were two railroad ties arranged in an “X”, with cuffs on each end of the “X.”  Further down on the right, behind more curtains, were about eight mattresses – the “play area.”

To the left of this play area was an open dance floor, with a stockade close to the left wall.  In the back of the room, a makeshift bar and a DJ’s booth.  And a door, leading to a small back yard, with pews as benches and a vestigial sukkah above.

The crowd was small, to start, but it grew quickly.  We went to the bar for drinks.  We established that a furtively paid $20 would entitle us to an open bar, provided we remembered the passphrase – “Shul-house Rock.”

At about 1 a.m., a man introducing himself as (I think) Baron von Schweinhund (or something like that) introduced a couple of terrific burlesque performers.  I wrote a few weeks ago about my general attitude (not positive) toward burlesque, but this was pretty much perfect – it was very brief and intimate.  And hot.  And then, the Baron did his own routine – very funny, not at all hot (to me), culminating in his performing a lap dance for a squirming male guest.  And the play began….

T and I watched as a man was cuffed to the “X” by two beautiful, topless women and a second man in head-to-toe leather (including a ridiculous leather cap).  The women teased him mercilessly for what must have been 15 or 20 minutes.  T and I began to kiss, my hands sneaking up under her very short shorts to grab her ass, to pull her against my cock.  The women tortured their prisoner, the guy in the leather sporadically tickled him with a crop. And then one of the women got on her knees and, after easing his cock out of his black boxers, gently tickled it with her mouth.  His hard-on looked painful.  After a few quick licks, and a suck, she pulled his boxers back over his cock and stood up.  “Oh my God,” I said to T.

“What?” she asked.  Their activities hadn’t been visible to her.  (The play area was over my shoulder; I have no idea what sights she had been taking in while we kissed.)  I described the tease that had just been perpetrated with some admiration.

T lowered herself in front of me and took my cock in her mouth.  As she sucked my cock expertly (she’s my wife – she really does know exactly what I like, and I’m lucky that she gives it to me), one of the women who previously had done the teasing was cuffed to the “X.”  The other woman, the two men, and a new woman all began attending to her, as my eyes fluttered shut.  T’s lips, her tongue, we working as she kneeled before me, sucking furiously.  My eyes opened – I took in the sights – and they closed again as I moaned.  I repeated this cycle several delicious times and then provided myself with the same delicious tease I had watched moments before, pulling T up to her feet, telling her I wanted to find a place where she could be comfortable as I went down on her.  The mattresses were full; we went out the back door into the lovely early summer night.