Added: Samanatha Canela - Date: 22.12.2021 09:59 - Views: 47578 - Clicks: 3247
Welcome to Elle Oh Ellewhere Portland-based writer and entertainer Elle Stanger takes your sex life from subpar to subversive. Find more of her musings here. It was my first time in a sex club. And for all my experience with nightlife and sex as a professional stripper, I had little experience with a combination of the two. I admit: I was nervous. Would I be safe from creepy dudes? Would there be horrifying stains on the walls?
Worse: would the drinks be weak?
Club Privata is a newly renovated, reopened venue in Portland that once housed a similar spot where Ron Jeremy was a sponsor. In earlythe former management dispersed; and the business is now run by a longtime married couple and managed by a woman named Holly Redeau. I parked Downtown, and walked hurriedly to the main entrance. I was in good company, as these two are mavens of the swinger scene and were eager to show me around. I had not, so he presented a dozen s of digital info to peruse. I ed electronically.
There was a cage, thumping music, and the unmistakable smell of… quiche? Adults of a few generations mingled and danced. A woman in a sailor's costume ran by, and jumped into the cage. A buffet of finger foods and entrees rested in catering dishes along the far wall. Two bartenders kept busy and coolly mixed, shook, and poured. The ladies showed me to the locker room, which allows attendees to tuck away their coats, purses, and heavier items. I removed my knee-length coat, feeling overdressed in my up-the-butt shorts and loose blouse.
Some breasts bounced past me, and nobody gawked. Some nodded in acknowledgement as we squeezed up the carpeted stairwell to the private rooms on the next floor. Most of the attendees were between the ages of 35 and 55, and I scanned for people who looked interesting. There were a lot of couples. Not many people were having sex yet, but it was still early. There were some single men, single women, a few women I identified as escorts, and some trophy wives. The trophy wives and escorts looked similar in that they were all beautiful women with amazing postures and outfits.
Once we reached the second floor, the dance room faded away and we were met with around a dozen small private rooms -- each outfitted with a bed covered in white sheets, with two condoms on top like chocolates in a fancy hotel. Rooms had different options for privacy: closed doors meant no one could come in. Open doors meant people could stand there and watch -- and offer to in -- but those already in the room could decline. If the door was closed and the curtains open, people were welcome to watch from the other side.
One room had a table-and-straps contraption, which resembled an exam or bondage chair. Laundered towels rested upon it. A couple of the doors were closed. Large-screen televisions were set on a few walls, and traditionally hetero and group-sex porn was playing. The public display of porn actually set me at ease; something sexy to look at, even if it was just 2D. A stripper pole stood adjacent to a balcony overlooking the dance floor, and a something woman was engaged in an adagio dance for her well-dressed lover, who sat on a couch.
His hands were on his knees, and she lithely turned to crawl to his crotch and gently set her head in his groin. Behind me, another intimate scene unfolded; a bespectacled man knelt on a king-sized sofa, nude except for his brief-like underwear. A muscular, large-breasted woman bound him, kinbaku-style, with rope. His eyelids fluttered, and he breathed slowly. Feeling shy, I headed to the bar. He asked Jillian and me if we'd like drinks, which we accepted from a large female bartender whose breasts jiggled as she poured. I swallowed the tequila and made small talk, although it was very apparent this pilot and I had zero chemistry.
I found myself turned on, hoping to see them round some bases. I saw Jillian out on the dance floor near the pilot; and Eleanor was chatting with a couple at the bar. My back pocket began to buzz with a message from my soon-to-arrive boyfriend, so I dipped into the bathroom away from the music, red lights, and no-phone policy.
I tapped a response into my cellphone and admired the mouthwash that was available in a small metal pump by the sink. The bathroom door swung open and a smiling, younger woman came in to wash her hands. Small world! We shook hands and I told her I was a first-timer. She smiled and primped her hair and clothed breasts in the mirror. I feel so accepted. It's wonderful.
I went upstairs to the third level. The action was clearly happening in the couples-only rooms, and I saw penises, finally.
Thrust, thrust, thrust. One, two, three couples were entwined in different activities. Two men took turns with two gorgeous women on the same bed, and the ladies moved to switch partners and condoms. A perfectly manicured set of fingers slowly reached between legs to gather and squeeze the mattress beneath them.
Then I saw my date, who'd clearly just arrived and was still taking it all in. The tattoos on his neck were familiar, and I instantly felt warm imagining the scent of his skin. I approached him and offered him a drink. We headed to the bar to swallow more tequila from the bosomy barkeep. Moans of men and women were audible above the DJ's music mix as we neared the second floor. The shibari couple was gone from the center stage; and the pole-dancing woman was blowing her partner on the black couch.
I felt safe, if still a little nervous. I found a room and we stepped inside. I watched as he took his time unlacing his boots. We lay on the bed and began kissing.
It was private, but I knew that sex was all around us. I asked to open the curtain; and with his blessing I stood, pushed the semi-sheer gauze aside, and saw a familiar woman standing right outside: one of my co-workers from the strip club. We made eye contact and I heard her say to the man she was with, "Hey!
I know that girl…" Thinking better of trying for a three-way, I climbed back in the bed with my boyfriend. He held me. Rule 1 of sex clubs: no cellphones. The sex-club scene: finger foods, cages, and costumes. Surprisingly, most people arrived as couples.
Any respectable sex club has public and private spaces. Sex clubs are unbelievable spots for people-watching. The mingling, however? Kind of strange.Portland sex partner
email: [email protected] - phone:(558) 203-7814 x 3874
Sex clubs in Portland