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Or you can go in the back, with your partner, and join in.
“It’s not threesomes,” a French friend of mine explained. Meaning as many as you want.”Although nothing happens at the bar, where the women keep their sexy little dresses and Louboutins on, the scene in the back room is a bit like something out of Kubrick’s Eyes Wide Shut, though without the funny masks and capes.
It was a cold, disgusting day and he was ready to relax. There were colored lights overhead that gave the whole room a pinkish red glow. The club was one large room with various couches of different shapes and sizes scattered about in an unorganized fashion.
***** He had spent the day working and then walked five blocks in the rain. Once inside, the club he could hear the music playing.
Much like London, the club culture that once gave birth to subversive subcultures might be dead, but the collective are set on injecting the city’s fashion scene with a punk spirit.
As he kept walking he noticed a box in the corner of the room. He walked over and placed his cock through one of the holes and immediately felt someone's warm wet tongue lick up his shaft. The girl inside the box had been there for hours, sucking cocks to her little heart's content. Just as Nick was about to move to one of the couches he noticed that the box's door was being opened from the inside. There she was, her auburn hair matted and her body shiny underneath the lights. Her tiny, hard nipples were poking through the wet fabric. Without a word, Nick leaned in and started to kiss the girl. She smiled, grabbed his cock with her hand and started sliding her fingers up and down his shaft. He could feel her tight walls expanding to make room for him. The girl let go of his cock and allowed him to start fucking her harder now.More “oui, oui, oui, oui, mais OUIIIIIII,”Naked people get boring after a while. You can go to the South of France for that, too, and the scenery is better. We pass the old man in the Prada suit, who has deserted the dancing girls, or been deserted, and now has someone else: an exotic-looking woman sitting on his lap. But paramedics were eventually called in and hauled my poor friend out on a stretcher. But the overall theme, according to the club’s Web site—which made me howl with laughter at its Pepé Le Pew corniness—is seduction.Tuesday, I’ve been told, is politicians’ night, when you can belly up to the bar and eye the goods with a large voting bloc from the French senate.
Also scattered about the room were women dressed in maid's costumes and covered in cum.