In Which The Bunny and I Have Semi-Public Sex.

So the sex club outing with The Bunny went well.

As I was getting ready to leave, I texted The Bunny that I just had to shower and then I’d be on my way.  He texted back “You’re showering right before going to a place with showers, a pool and a hot tub?”  I replied “would [club] appreciate me shaving my bikini line and armpits in their showers, pool, or hot tub?”  That got no response – I assume The Bunny got my point.

That conversation sparked off a whole big anxious thought process in me, though.  The Bunny – though wonderful in many ways – sometimes suffers from that male-gazey thing where he can’t see why an experience might be different for women than for men*.  Of course it wouldn’t occur to him that I would want to shave in an attempt to look presentable in this publicly naked space – his experience as a dude is that he can just walk around – even naked – without anyone making a big deal of it or even really noticing him.  Of course his idea of “getting ready” simply entails putting on his coat and boots.  My experience as a woman is that I can’t walk around anywhere – even clothed – without being scrutinized as a sexual object.  Did The Bunny understand that not everyone can be naked in public and still be treated like an autonomous human being?  What was the club going to be like?  I’d seen women on FetLife writing about their experiences there and many said that groups of single guys would just follow them from room to room, never actually approaching to talk but just openly staring as though the women were a zoo exhibit.  Does The Bunny realize that this happens?  Does he understand how unnerving it would be to me?  If I got creeped out and said so would he minimize my concerns?

On my way over to The Bunny’s place to meet him, I psyched myself up into almost a full panic attack made up of one part “what if the club experience freaks me out” and one part “what if The Bunny doesn’t get it and acts like I’m just being stupid.”  I squelched these feelings under a mask of composure when I rang The Bunny’s doorbell; I didn’t want to burst into tears the moment he opened the door.

The Bunny answered the door in just his boxers and asked me if I wanted to relax at his place for a bit or head straight out to the club.  I said I needed to use his bathroom and would like a drink of water and then I was good to go.  (No use prolonging the scary anticipation…)

I reclined on The Bunny’s bed with the glass of water he brought me and watched him change into the bathing suit that I guessed would be his outfit for the evening (he’d mentioned before that he doesn’t usually get all-the-way naked there).  Because he is a boy, this bathing suit was essentially a pair of loose knee-length shorts.  They don’t make bathing suit bottoms like that for women, and if a woman wore such a thing she would look out of place and people would probably wonder why she wasn’t wearing bikini-style bottoms like all the other chicks.  Guys are allowed to conceal their bodies, though.  (I was wearing panties for a change – usually I’m commando – so I could be not-naked at the club but still hopefully blend in.)

Before we left, I mustered up all my courage and said “So…with my anxiety stuff, new and/or crowded places make my vision go kinda funhouse-mirror for a while…you’ll need to show me around slowly and let me process things until the layout eventually makes sense to me.”  I was terrified The Bunny would be disgusted by how high-maintenance I am or dismiss my anxiety as stupid (I know my anxiety is stupid.  But the thing is, knowing this doesn’t make it go away.  And if someone acts like I’m a pain in the ass it gets exponentially worse.)  But The Bunny said “Okay,” in a totally cheerful and casual voice.  He even said that on one of the first times he’d gone to this club, he got a little overwhelmed and had to just sit in the foyer for a while and collect himself.  He thinks I’m normal!  He’s willing to help me!  Now I adore him more than ever.

We walked over to the club, went through the sign-in process, put our stuff in a locker (the locker room was co-ed, which is awesome – it meant I could stay plastered to The Bunny’s side), and The Bunny showed me around.  The club’s layout wasn’t as complicated as the other one I’d been to.  With The Bunny’s guidance I soon got at least kind of a feel for where things were, although I’d still sometimes get confused**.

The people at this club didn’t seem as predatory as at the other one I’d been to, either.  Or maybe I was getting leered at and just missed it; I’d stashed my glasses in the locker after it became clear that they were functionally useless in at least 50% of the club (saunas, heated outdoor pools, and hot tubs produce a lot of steam) so I wasn’t able to see very clearly.  That added to my anxiety a fair bit – you have to understand that I’m so nearsighted that a shadow on the floor might look like a step/change in floor texture/object sitting in my way to me.  A shadow falling over my face will make me flinch, thinking I’m about to get hit by something.  But the place was well-lit and The Bunny was always right there, so it wasn’t too bad.  And I’m not too nearsighted to know if someone is following me around and staring, and nobody was, so yay.

If I may be terribly superficial for a moment…this club had a much younger/prettier clientele than the other one I’d been to, at least on the respective nights that I was there.  At the other club I was one of the most conventionally attractive people present, and a bunch of middle-aged guys were kind of following me around, presumably hoping I’d get naked.  (“Look, everyone!  She’s thin!  And cute!  And fairly youthful looking!  And this is a place where clothing is optional, so maybe…if we wait long enough……….”)  By contrast, it felt like the club the other night was full of all kinds of eye candy and everyone was just…used to it.  (“Yup, another thin cute youthful-looking woman.  No big deal.  *Yawn.*).  In a way it felt like an extension of the art classes I pose for, where nudity is just utilitarian and not sexually charged at all.  Unless I just missed a lot of ogling because I’m too nearsighted, in which case never mind.

The heated outdoor pool was lovely, like falling asleep in wintertime with the window cracked but ten thousand blankets on top of you: invigoratingly chilly air to breathe, but comforting warmth from the neck down.  The steamy air made a sort of privacy curtain around us.  The Bunny wrapped my legs around his waist and we stayed like that, our arms around each other, looking around and admiring the stars and sometimes kissing.  He then spotted some people he knew, and waded over to them with me still barnacled onto him (any time I went to separate from him, he’d wrap me around him again…).  We chatted with his naked friends for a while, and then they went off to play elsewhere.

After a while, The Bunny took me back inside again to explore the play area of the club.  There was a nice little nook with a cushioned floor and closeable curtains, and it was empty, so we lay down in there for a bit.  I felt comfortable enough to strip off the sports bra I’d been wearing (wet clothes are icky) but not the panties.  The Bunny took off his shorts and we just lay there for a while and talked while he petted me.  In the nearby dungeon room, some chick was getting flogged and moaning in such a campy, porny way that The Bunny and I couldn’t stop giggling.

And The Bunny seemed just fine with lying there and petting me; I felt no pressure at all from him to go further.  Felt like he took me to the club purely to show me what it was like and to enjoy the spa facilities – not out of any huge hope of getting laid.  And (I bet you can see where this is going…) the lack of pressure and the way he made me feel safe gave me such a surge of affection for him that I wanted to fuck him…probably.  I closed the curtains, took off my one remaining scrap of clothing, and began making out with The Bunny, kind of mentally monitoring my crotch to see how I felt about it.  The subject of sex noises must have come up at some point – along with how much I love to hear vocalizations – because I remember The Bunny indicating the porn-moans from outside and saying “I have heard my competition, and it is stiff.”  I squeezed his erection and said “so are you.” 😀

I’m not sure whether The Bunny was exaggerating his sounds for my benefit or just really turned on to be doing stuff in semi-public, but  when things began to heat up between us his moans were epic.  And so finally I was like “Yup, I think I need to fuck you.  Is that okay?” he said yes, and I grabbed the basket of condoms and lube by the doorway.

The Bunny is one of these people who, when you’re on top during sex, still does all the thrusting.  Like, he’ll jackhammer up at me so fast that I can’t keep up with the pace and finally I give up on trying to push back, and just hold still (I call him The Bunny because when people are practicing bondage, the one getting tied up is called a “rope bunny”…but it occurs to me that this nickname is apt for other reasons too).  Holding myself motionless above The Bunny while he jackhammers up into me makes me feel a wee bit like a Fleshlight or some other toy made for jerking off; it’s the lack of interaction, I think.  Kind of objectifying, in a way I do not like.

But The Bunny’s cock felt really good and his moans were electrifying and I bit and slapped him while we fucked.  He announced when he was about to come (oh god that tiny helpless breathy voice…) and when he did, that alchemy happened where I almost felt it, too; his little pulsations whiplashed my spine and covered me in goosebumps***.  Normally when I get all emotionally invested in my partner’s orgasm I have some kind of mental “peak” and then don’t really need to come, myself; not this time.  Once the last of The Bunny’s little cock twitchies subsided, I said “If you don’t get me off right now, I might have to kill you.  That’s not even a figure of speech; I am being literal here.”  The Bunny isn’t flinchy and easily frightened like Minx was, so he just chuckled and started giving me a hand job.  It was hard for me to come because I felt really vulnerable having just a curtain between me and the rest of the club (and the curtain didn’t close perfectly; there was a gap).  I’m not an exhibitionist so I had to wilfully ignore the possibly that people could see me in order to have fun.  But I did eventually come.

As The Bunny and I lay there in post-coital bliss, we noticed a guy repeatedly walking back and forth past our little nook, slowing down every time he passed the gap in the curtains.  Finally he just came up and put his face right in the gap to stare at us.   The first time he did this, The Bunny and I rolled our eyes at each other and tried to ignore it.  When he did it a second or third time, though, I gazed steadily at the guy with an irritated “Can I help you?” expression and he retreated and didn’t come back.  I’m told I have a terrifying dead-eyed stare when I’m pissed off and/or trying to intimidate someone.  Minx once compared it to the look on Dexter’s face in the opening credits of the show, right after he pulls his shirt on.  I take this as a compliment.

The Bunny and I remained naked for the rest of our time in the club (although I did keep a towel wrapped around my waist when I wasn’t immersed in water, and The Bunny generally held his towel in front of his crotch).  He was wonderfully solicitous, too; he fetched a cup of water to our curtained nook so I could replenish my lost fluids and then we went back out to the pool, where The Bunny took my towel from me and laid it with his (and our wet clothes that he’d been carrying).  When we decided to get out of the pool, he had me wait in the warm water and fetched my towel for me so I’d be warm.  I looooove when someone looks after my comfort like that.

Once again, when we were in the pool, The Bunny wrapped my legs around him.  I don’t know if this makes him feel manly or if he just wanted to be close to me or what.  I didn’t mind, either way.  It was nice to be close to him.  Also, his big bubble butt forms a shelf that makes it really easy to stay anchored to him like that; I didn’t have to squeeze him with my thighs to stay up.  Since we were naked at this point, The Bunny’s cock floated up and was bouncing lightly against my crotch.  It made me keenly aware of a desire to have him inside me again – immediately, with no prep time.  I miss barebacking, dammit.

As we relaxed in the warm water in our tangled-up pose, The Bunny frequently kissed or caressed me and unless I’m mistaken he was giving me that starry-eyed look of someone who is feeling very, very infatuated.  I was probably giving that look right back.  So I’m gonna say the sex was spectacularly good that night because we were feeling some mutual mushiness – that whole “level jumping” thing that also happened with The Pedant back in the day.  Remember how I said that sometimes sex with someone suddenly goes from “fun” to “spiritual experience” and I believe that this cannot possibly be one-sided?  That if one person is feeling these things it’s also because the other one is, too?  Yeah.  I think that’s what’s beginning to happen here.

After the pool, we went in the hot tub for a bit, which was indoors and had warmer water than the pool.  There were maybe six other people in there when we first arrived, all of them naked.  Two guys were talking animatedly about nerd stuff – guys who seemed very much straight and not there on a date with each other – and it gave me a feeling almost like homesickness, but less bittersweet.  Maybe more a feeling like coming home.  Nerd talk is delightfully banal and normal to me, and it affirmed my faith in human nature to see it unfold in this naked and potentially sexual place.  That was my most “OMG it’s like art class only bigger” moment of the night – watching two guys argue about time travel paradoxes while their dicks were clearly visible.

Then we realized it was getting late, so we got out of the hot tub, showered off any residual chlorine, got our clothes on, and The Bunny walked me to the bus stop.  I was feeling absolutely floaty and amazing from the events of the evening; so much so that when I got on the bus I wanted to send The Bunny a text telling him again how much fun I’d had.  But I’d just said that to him in person five minutes before and didn’t want to look clingy.

But then he texted me: “Thanks again for the lovely time.  There shall be more. 🙂 ”

Hoo boy.  I am starting to fall for this boy a little bit.  I’m trying to tell myself that this can’t be possible – in many ways we don’t even really know each other, since all we do together is banter and have kinky sex – but at the very least our good physical connection and is giving me the illusion of having feelings.

I must be careful.

 

 

*I once told him that a certain sex toy shop to which he’d recently gone was sketchy and therefore creepy and unwelcoming to me.  He said he’d never noticed it feeling creepy. I said “well, you’re a dude.”  And he was like “what does that have to do with it?”  *Facepalm.*

**Lots of places – office buildings and sex clubs in particular – have different rooms and various nooks/recesses in the wall.  From an oblique angle, nooks and doorways look the same.  If I’m in panic mode I’ll try to exit a room and find myself almost walking face-first into a dead end, or look around for the exit but every wall seems to be lined end-to-end with doorways and I can’t remember which one gets me out.

***Goddammit.  That orgasm-transference thing usually only happens when I love someone, or at least feel really close to them.  I have conflicted feelings about feeling this close to someone right now.  I both crave it and fear it.

6 Comments

December 25, 2013 · 11:07 pm

6 responses to “In Which The Bunny and I Have Semi-Public Sex.

  1. Oh my goodness, I had the same conversation with Spouse about showering before going to a bathhouse in New Mexico, and he’s not even a cis-male. Not having the cultural expectation of looking one’s best all the time seems to lead to a lack of that perspective.

    I’m really glad he was understanding of your nerves and needs (aside:what does it say about both of us that basic human decency is something to be so relieved and grateful about?) I’ve always been really comfortable with public nudity/near nudity but the first visit to a sex club was still anxiety inducing: there can be a whole different context from swimming nude or modeling.

    I’m glad you had a mostly enjoyable and non-creepy experience. If it helps any, I’ve noticed at the venues I go to that if someone is creeping, annoying, or even just distracting all I need to do is speak up once. Other folks seem to provide immediate backup. This included getting a guy to go elsewhere when his color commentary on my (completely public) scene got obnoxious. If speaking up once is too stressful, maybe you can think of a way to signal the Bunny if it needs to be done? If you had a good experience and the general tone didnt feel off, it probably won’t happen often, but having a plan can help with the stress.

    Yay for fun times!

    • what does it say about both of us that basic human decency is something to be so relieved and grateful about?

      For me, either it says I’ve historically been bad at picking friends and lovers, or that perhaps it’s not just me but that most people, in general, just suck. But I’ve had lots of friends/partners who completely ignored my issues – didn’t sympathize, didn’t help me. I’m gun-shy now.

      I’ve noticed at the venues I go to that if someone is creeping, annoying, or even just distracting all I need to do is speak up once. Other folks seem to provide immediate backup. This included getting a guy to go elsewhere when his color commentary on my (completely public) scene got obnoxious.

      Ah! Okay, good. I think what I’m struggling with is where the boundaries should be. Like…I feel that someone pushing his goddamn face against the closed curtains in hopes of seeing something naughty is being a giant douchebag. But I was afraid that if I made a big deal of it, he (and anyone else who witnessed the altercation) would be like “You’re in a sex club. People are gonna watch you. Get the fuck over it.”

      If I’m not in fact going to look hysterical and crazy for telling a guy like that to back off, then yeah, I think I could do so. I’m aware that creepers usually know they’re creepy and count on others’ embarrassment to keep everyone quiet. A loud “YOU’RE MAKING ME UNCOMFORTABLE RIGHT NOW” goes a long way.

      I’ve always been really comfortable with public nudity/near nudity but the first visit to a sex club was still anxiety inducing: there can be a whole different context from swimming nude or modeling.

      Yes, exactly. I don’t mind being naked as long as the people around me don’t stare overly much or make comments (as in, say…an art class, where respectful silence prevails and nobody can stare for long because they have to periodically look at their drawings). Maybe onlookers think I’m hot or maybe they think I’m gross; none of their thoughts affect me, as long as they’re just thoughts. Feeling gawked at or sexually objectified is seriously triggering for me, though.

  2. M

    You actually can get long shorts bottoms for women! At least, I bought myself a pair at pacsun (a store for kinda punky kids? Idk) and they were meant for women and everything. No buying an extra small men’s. So I would recomend looking around a little to see if you can find something. I got mine because I kept burning my upper thighs at the beach.

  3. This post is old and all, but I’m curious about this paragraph:
    “If I may be terribly superficial for a moment…this club had a much younger/prettier clientele than the other one I’d been to, at least on the respective nights that I was there. At the other club I was one of the most conventionally attractive people present, and a bunch of middle-aged guys were kind of following me around, presumably hoping I’d get naked. (“Look, everyone! She’s thin! And cute! And fairly youthful looking! And this is a place where clothing is optional, so maybe…if we wait long enough……….”) By contrast, it felt like the club the other night was full of all kinds of eye candy and everyone was just…used to it. (“Yup, another thin cute youthful-looking woman. No big deal. *Yawn.*). In a way it felt like an extension of the art classes I pose for, where nudity is just utilitarian and not sexually charged at all. Unless I just missed a lot of ogling because I’m too nearsighted, in which case never mind.”

    I just want to ask if you feel like you would have had a different experience if you weren’t conventionally attractive?

    • I have since been to the nicer sex club on nights that attract an older crowd (for whatever reason) and I found that dudes were following me around and wanking.

      The previous, skeevy club I mentioned also had an older crowd.

      Soooo…not sure if old dudes have more of a “women exist for my viewing pleasure” attitude, or if my comparatively high level of conventional attractiveness was doing this, or what. Or maybe the skeevy place usually has the same regulars every week so it was more because I was fresh meat. Unsure.

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