There's a Party in My Pants and Five are Invited - Sex Stories

There's a Party in My Pants and Five are Invited

... it off and lifted up slightly so I could gain access to his pockets. “And now you have it. There are three buttons. One switches between the eight settings and the other two are up and down for intensity. Variation five is my favorite. Slide the front closed to shut it off.” I could have been holding water up to a man dying of thirst for how intently he was staring at the purple device in my hand. “But there are a few rules.” I ticked them off on my fingers. “Rule #1: Do not let me come Rule #2: You need to pass it to someone else, but no more than five people may play or know about it Rule #3: No one can keep in control of it for more than 10 minutes. Rule #4: If I catch the person with the remote, they are out of the game. I may also try and convince you, or anyone else I suspect is playing, to try and tell me who has the remote. Lying and sexual release on your part gets you out of the game too. Rule #5: The game ends at midnight, and at that time I get to choose one of you, that is left, to let or watch me come.“ I slid off his body, while making as much contact with him as I could and headed for the door to rejoin the party. I hoped that I had picked the right person to play and I hoped that others would join in. I got my answer to the first question as I reached for the door handle and the slumbering toy suddenly awoke with a jolt. I cried out in surprise and pleasure. It was setting number five. I turned around and he was sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing himself ...

... through his pants and smiling with the remote dangling, taunting me, from his finger. I left the room and lost myself in the party. It was 9:30pm and the game had started. Awhile later as I was standing in a circle talking to a group of people about nothing in particular, the soft and delicate function number one started to pulse rhythmically between my legs, teasing and enticing. I quickly looked around at the faces in the crowd, but didn’t see him, but I could feel what his fingers were doing to me. The intensity was creeping up, fractions of degrees, but building. I tried to hold the conversation while a maestro expertly increasing the tempo of an intense musical vibration against my clit was damned near impossible, but I managed, barely. The concentration needed to keep myself from squirming, moaning or any other number of telling signs, was quickly becoming difficult. I excused myself and walked the room. As I stepped away from the group, the orchestra was ratcheted up and I nearly fell to my knees. A man in the crowd caught me and I moaned. “Are you okay? You look very flushed,” the man asked me. “Yes, I am fine, I think it just got a little too hot in here for me,” I stammered out. “I think I will go outside for some fresh air.” “Here let me help you. We wouldn’t want you pooling to the floor in a mess of wet panties and orgasmic bliss now would we?” I didn’t know what I should have said to him, so I just smiled. “Thank you for your concern, but that is rule #1. Also, ...