Maya's First Orgy

Literotic asexstories – Maya's First Orgy by flyingbluejay,flyingbluejay
Like me, I imagined that most people in the kink community were interested in going to an orgy. My other sub friends had all mentioned them in sort of a passively interested way. We could definitely see the perks, watch the porn, and divine our own fantasies.

Planning an orgy, though, honestly, just seemed like too much work. A threesome? Sure, if any of my lesbian couple friends were looking for a third. A foursome? If those couples wanted me and whoever I was dating at the time, maybe. Beyond that, there were so many schedules to match up, STD tests to consider, limits that needed to be negotiated. I mean, did you make a group text? An email thread? Carrier pigeon? The logistics were a mystery to me and, it seemed, all my other friends who might be interested.

So the reality was that I probably would never have gone to an orgy with more than two or three others unless one fell into my lap.

But, two weeks before Christmas, it seemed like one was about to.

My best friend, Andie, sent me a random text after a few days on vacation up in the mountains. Estes Park, a couple hours from where we lived. It was a series of screenshots with one line: “Maya — you think they’re cute?”

I didn’t particularly have a type when it came to women — if they could get me off and identified as a girl, I was usually down — and Andie knew that better than anyone as she’d tried setting me up with a never-ending list of her friends, exes, and relatives. It piqued my interest that she even asked. I swiped through a handful of pictures. A couple, two women, probably in their early thirties. One was much more butch, taller, usually in a muscle shirt and sports bra, while the other preferred sundresses and full faces of makeup. Both were pretty in different ways. The butch had hooded eyes, high cheekbones, and a sharp jaw. The femme was short and curvy with a sweet, vibrant smile between full round lips.

I texted back: “Yeah, sure. Why?”

“You’re into the whole strangers thing, right?”

“Andie…spit it out.”

“Orgy!! Those two, us two, and two of their friends from some dungeon in Boulder. They’ll come to us downtown. What do you think?”

“Everyone’s clean and down?”

“Yeah, I’ve got the screenshots and everything.”

I paused, rereading the texts while I finished up my breakfast. I’d gotten out of a messy, ugly breakup recently, one that every single one of my friends had seen coming for weeks. Immediately after, when I ran to Andie for comfort, she told me that it was time I started actually living my life instead of trying to U-haul with any girl who had a nice ass. I called her a hypocrite for trying to get me girlfriends over and over, but she insisted that the point stood regardless.

I’d been thinking about it ever since. There were a million things I wanted to try, places I wanted to go, foods I wanted to eat, and versions of myself I wanted to try on before I settled down, and I hadn’t been honest with myself about that. Now, I was a few days from my 29th birthday. 30 loomed in front of me, an arbitrary but significant reminder that I was firmly an adult now — and it was time to get fucked like one.

I texted back: “Why not?”

—

The next weekend, Friday night, Andie stopped by my place to go through everything before we headed downtown. Andie and I had sex a bunch of times, of course. We were best friends and both gay and, frankly, the dating pool could get abysmal if you didn’t have a friend to call up for a booty call once in a while. Lesbian dating is always harder — lots of ‘wow you’re pretty,’ ‘no you’re pretty,’ on apps until both people ghosted. Analyze that however you want, but, regardless, having an extroverted, confident friend like Andie usually paid off.

It didn’t hurt that she was beautiful and enticing, of course. Half-Mexican and half-black, she had countless unique elements to her look. Her most striking feature was long, lustrous brown hair, rippling with shades from near blonde to auburn to espresso. I knew she highlighted it but, still, it had this natural shine that caught the light, giving it a radiant glow. Whenever the sun hit it just right, she had a halo. Her deep brown eyes sparkled with intelligence and depth, always curious about the world and open to new experiences. Andie had a sculpted nose, delicately curved, and it scrunched up when she told terrible jokes. Her skin had a natural, healthy glow, and I often wondered what her trademarked secret was. I suspected genetics because she was always recommending serums and toners and creams and syrups and jams and mustards and whatever, but nothing could get my skin as clear and tan and taut as hers.

When she laughed, her eyes crinkled at the corners. We were both in our early thirties, but, while I kept my perpetual baby face, Andie was aging into a graceful woman, the kind you’d trust with your deepest desires. Today, like usual, she was dressed in leggings that hugged her toned legs and a loose tee; she’d probably just come from a spin class, her preferred workout that she went to as many mornings as she could.

As we settled onto my couch, some reality TV show low in the background, she broached the topic of the evening. “So, here’s the rub.”

I rolled my eyes. “Not funny.”

“A little funny,” she argued. “Anyway, the big thing you should know — and that’s why I invited you to this one specifically, to be honest — is that it’s mostly tops. Except for, you know-”

“Me, obviously.” That made me chuckle, both nervous and thrilled at the thought. “Who else? I doubt I can hold down the entire submissive fort with five other women.” The idea burned through my brain, admittedly. I added, blushing a tiny bit, “Although…”

“Such a pillow princess,” she teased. “Here, I’ll show you everyone.”

Andie went through a bunch of pictures on her phone, telling me about each person, what she knew about them, and what they looked like. I took mental notes on everything so that I’d at least be able to introduce myself with confidence.

There was the couple, of course, who I’d already social media stalked with Andie’s help.

The butch one was Everett, Ev or Ever for short, and she was affectionately known as ‘the strap,’ so that pretty much informed what I expected of her. Her shoulders were broad and muscular, her thighs thick as tree trunks, and her wardrobe seemed to consist only of muscle tees, polos, and basketball shorts.

Her partner, Nellie, was Korean but kept her long wavy hair a honey blonde that I could only imagine took hours and hours at the salon. She had full, usually blushing cheeks, and plump, pouty lips. Her breasts were full and she rarely wore a bra, opting for dresses with shirred busts that held her in but still showcased her natural lift and bounce.

After that, things got a little more interesting. Andie showed me the other two women’s profiles not from their regular social media but from their kink sites, where it was all nudes with only a few face pics and even fewer clothed ones.

Quinn had a ton of tattoos — two fully completed patchwork sleeves, a piece on both her chest and underbust, and a decent smattering on her legs — and was all around more androgynous. Outside of a baby pink bob with mini bangs, she kept things more masculine or neutral. Button-ups concealed small breasts with quarter-size pale nipples while pleated trousers highlighted full hips. In a lot of her photos, she stuck out her tongue, showing off a golden ball-bearing piercing. Countless short videos showed her teasing clits with that ring.

Finally, the last woman stood proud in all her pictures. Her thick, muscular thighs could crush my head easily and I’d say thank you while they did. I couldn’t tell her race on sight, like Andie, but she had clear, tanned olive skin covered in freckles and moles tracing constellations all over her body. She had average-sized natural breasts with large, dark nipples, and maybe had a kid or two because her stomach was lined with old silvered stretch marks.

Each one brought something different to the table, which — in the parts of my mind where I’d really considered it — was ideal for me. I loved the whole wide spectrum of womanhood where every touch and kiss and taste would be different. I wanted skin that bumped and smoothed differently underneath my fingertips. I craved cunts with different folds, depths, tastes. For me, that was the great joy of being a lesbian. No judgment to those with their types and preferences, but I saw a grand smorgasbord of women in front of me and needed at least a bite of each. Why go to a buffet and stick to one station?

Once we’d gone over who to expect, we coordinated outfits, arranged our personal logistics, and parted for the evening. Andie snatched one of my freshly purchased chocolate croissants because she couldn’t resist my taste in snacks. Then she gave me a warm hug and said, “Can’t wait for tomorrow. See you so, so soon.”

—

Andie picked me up around five the next day — Saturday — to grab appetizers and a couple of drinks at a bar near the hotel we’d been told to meet at. It was a big no-no, Andie informed me, to show up to an orgy on either an empty stomach or a too-full stomach. The drinks were just to loosen up a bit. I was a lightweight, so one strong whiskey sour and a plate of some tempura veggies had me feeling good. I’d also spent the day meticulously grooming every inch of my body. Usually, I didn’t go to all the effort, but five sets of eyes on my body, even if they were also on five other bodies, made me more conscientious of what I looked like. I assumed, like most sexual encounters, I’d feel comfortable once we actually got started and in the flow of things, but some solid prep work always put me in the right mindset.

I didn’t really know what to expect. There weren’t a ton of, like, guides on the internet that weren’t porn made for men — all two-inch nails sandpapering each other’s dry clits and acting like it was the greatest thing they’d ever imagined. Googling group sex positions for women led to terms like “scissor sisters” and “the daisy chain.” It just seemed like nobody could come up with ideas for sex that didn’t involve penises. Which, like, girls had dicks too, whether the silicon purchased kind of the softer experience of trans women.

We parked in the hotel’s underground garage. Andie had been to the place before — Tranquil House, which sounded more like a spa to me — and assured me that, even though it was 21+, it wasn’t creepy or gross or anything. I’d been to local dungeons and munches plenty of times, but they were pretty upfront and casual about sex. This place felt more posh than I expected.

As Andie and I stepped into the lobby, sultry air that smelled like vanilla and sandalwood enveloped us, igniting our senses. Bathed in soft, amber light, it felt like a haven. The faint hum of conversations created a backdrop. Lots of other people — all different genders, body types, and walks of adult life — hung around the area, which also housed a bar and small restaurant. A sign indicated that there was both a nude and clothed pool and various other amenities both for adult fun and typical hotel fare.

The touch of Andie’s hand against mine sent a tingling sensation up my arm, igniting a spark of excitement within me. It had been a while between the two of us. We’d both had other partners in the past few months, but the thought of being able to kiss her again always lingered in the back of my mind. As the elevator doors closed, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of us on a journey to the top floor.

The elevator ride was a slow ascent, each floor passing with a soft ding that resonated in my chest. My nerves built and built. Andie’s presence beside me felt magnetic; the subtle scent of her floral, slightly fruity perfume filled the air. As the elevator doors opened on the top floor, we walked down a hall and used Andie’s keycard to enter the suite. We were greeted by a room that exuded both class and sexuality at once. It wasn’t tacky or sleazy like I’d think an “adult hotel” would be; rather, the hardwood floors were freshly cleaned with something lemony, the walls were a soft warm off-white, and the linens looked silky smooth. Not a stain in sight.

It had more furniture than a traditional hotel room, though, and more variety, too. Nothing explicitly for sex like a swing or machinery, but lots of comfortable surfaces with different sensations available. My fingers brushed against the velvety surface of a chaise lounge, and I imagined how it would feel to recline on its soft embrace. At the center, a California king bed, four posters in the same wood tone as the floors, stood comfortably and stately. It had more than a handful of pillows with different firmness levels.

The bathroom, visible from the entrance door, captured my attention, too. The warm glow of candles illuminated the large jacuzzi tub, its inviting curves inviting me to dip my toes into its bubbling waters. The scent of lavender and vanilla infused the air.

As we entered the room, my heartbeat quickened, and I became aware of the electricity around us. Three of the other women had already arrived; only Quinn remained late. Well, not late. We were early, they were earlier, and Quinn would probably be on time.

Andie walked further into the suite and I followed her like a lost puppy, peeking over her shoulder to get a lay of the land. Nellie was doing pretty much the same with Ev, who was taller in real life than in her pictures. She had easily a head over Nellie, who was closer to my height. Andie was between the two, height-wise. Isabel was shorter but, in terms of her energy, she was taller than everyone else.

Wearing a flowy skirt that ended just above her knees, Isabel strutted across the room like she was a boss greeting new interns. I appreciated the confidence. She took Andie’s hand, then mine, and said, “You can call me Izzy. You must be Maya.”

“That’s me.” I chuckled nervously, then swallowed, then said, “It’s good to meet you.”

She had a wide smile that spread warmly across her face, illuminating smile lines. “You, too.”

Nellie and Ev walked up next, each of them shaking my hand, too. Nice, firm, kind. I could feel a kindred spirit in Nellie, though, the way we both turned into the women around us for confirmation and assurance. Bottoms among tops. It was refreshing; most dating apps were swimming with bottoms with a shortage of tops. This was special.

While we were introducing ourselves, the door opened and Quinn shuffled inside, locking the door behind her. Notably, she had a duffel bag that, I had to imagine, was full of toys. She beamed. “What a gorgeous group, right? Thank you all for coming — and, you know, coming.”

Even though it was a lazy and overdone joke, we all gave it more of a laugh than it deserved, just to break some of the tension between us. Quinn joined us and we all sat down on the handful of couches and chairs by the foot of the bed. For a few minutes, we went over the rest of the logistics we needed. I’d always had a thing for hooking up with strangers, but it did always mean taking the time to have a real, open conversation if you hadn’t been texting beforehand. Once the conversation wrapped up with talking about limits, boundaries, and desires, we all agreed it would be best to couple off with who we were most familiar with just to get comfortable in the space and being around each other.

So Andie beckoned me over to where she sat on the main couch, next to Quinn and Isabel. I straddled her and she grinned. “Been a while, huh?”

“Too long,” I laughed. “Now kiss me, dumbass.”

Still smiling, Andie dropped her hands to my head and kissed me. As I settled into her lap, a playful glint sparkled in both of our eyes. We had been friends — sometimes with benefits — for nearly a decade now, and that meant we knew just how to kiss and tease each other. Andie’s arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to her, wanting to feel my tits against hers.

Andie led and I responded. She deepened the kiss with practiced ease. Our lips moved in harmony, with a passion that grew with every passing second. Every time we hooked up, whether it had been a few hours or a few months, all our suppressed desires found an outlet. Andie’s hands cradled my face gently, her touch both tender and assertive. For a minute, I forgot we were in a hotel room with four other women.

Then, Nellie moaned loud. Ev had bit her on the bottom lip, maybe, or sucked her neck hard. And, at that, my pussy jolted with need. When our lips eventually parted, we both drew a shaky breath. From that moment on, we were done with tenderness and one-on-one connection.

Ev, the truest butch among us, invited Andie and me over to where the two of them sat on the bed while Quinn and Isabell continued to make out on the couch. They were rapidly shedding clothing, but Ev slowly stripping her sub kept my rapt attention. Seeing how intently I was watching as she untied the back of Nellie’s dress, Ev smirked and offered, “Maya, why don’t you take over? Give us something to watch.”

Nellie gave me a shy smile and stood up. I took a step forward. She’d worn a sweet sundress with a pretty abstract watercolor pattern. Once again, she wasn’t wearing a bra, and the shape of the dress had started to shed now that it was untied. I ran my fingers underneath the spaghetti straps; Nellie sucked in a deep breath of expectation. I got the sense she’d been shared by her dom plenty of times based on how calm and un-blushed her expression stayed the whole time. Meeting her eyes, I closed the space between us and kissed her neck softly, exploring, curious. Her skin was perfectly clean and smooth under my tongue, just a tiny bit salty, and I licked up the tendon of her neck from collarbone to ear. I tried to guide myself based on my own wants, not exactly my specialty, but she didn’t seem to mind at all as she wiggled a bit to encourage my hands on her shoulders.

I slipped her straps over her arms and the dress dropped in one piece to the floor. Underneath, she wore only her panties, which were white lace and cheeky, supporting and framing her hips and ass all at once. I dropped my hands down to her hips and carefully drew my fingertips under the hemline. At the same time, I leaned down and took one of her nipples in my mouth. Her toes curled against the cool wooden floor. Slowly, my tongue swirled around her nipple, just playing, until she let out a little gasp. I kept it to a minimum for now, knowing that we were fundamentally the entertainment for the big girls, so to speak.

I’d worn comfortable clothes because, frankly, I figured they wouldn’t be on very long. I might’ve been a femme sub just like Nellie, but she clearly got more out of the lifestyle of being cute and sweet while I just wanted to be railed by a woman who knew exactly how to do it. Still, Nellie looked at me like I was wearing the finest lingerie as she lifted the bottom edge of my tank top up above my head. I’d worn a somewhat cute bra, at least, plain black mesh, unlined. My breasts were one of the features I could be proud of. They weren’t mega-large or anything, but they were full and stood at attention. My areolas were wide and dark, which I thought was sexy, and my nipples stayed firm and sensitive at the slightest arousal.

Then, Nellie dropped to her knees and pulled down my loose joggers with her teeth. Her fingers traced the same line down my other hip. Once the pants were around my ankles, she helped me step out, and then she kissed her way up my thigh. My thong matched my bra. Before Nellie could strip it off, Ev reached over and snapped the elastic side on my skin. The sharp sting zipped up my side and I shivered for the first time, meeting Ev’s eyes. She smirked.

Ev walked over, stood behind me, and cupped my barely-covered breasts. “Why don’t you two get down on your knees and eat Andie out? Maya, you take the front since you already know how she likes it.”