Juicy Journalism Ch. 04

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Hi, my name is Anabelle Joy. I’m a journalist reporting on anything and everything to do with intimacy and pleasure. Please enjoy the stories about my ventures into the world of temptation and sex parties.

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“Anabelle, it’s lovely to finally meet you!” I hear a voice call when I arrive at the yacht.

Alexander Schmidt is exactly like I pictured him. Mischievous, decorated with too many gold chains, and with a charming smile of whitened teeth. His black shirt sits tight around his broad, hairy, suntanned chest. The top three buttons are nonchalantly left open. A cloud of perfume surrounds him, surely from an expensive brand. He asks if I have time for an exclusive tour of the place.

“And please, leave your baggage here, Anabelle, it will be delivered to your suite for you.”

The luxury yacht’s name is Atlantis, named after the legendary (and almost archetypal) lost continent that was supposed to have sunk into the Atlantic Ocean. Not the best name for a ship in my opinion.

There are several floors, with a total of fifty suites. All the way at the bottom is a club, with a state-of-the-art sound system (of course). One floor up is an immense spa complex with marble jacuzzi’s, different types of sauna’s, multiple massage rooms, and… What’s this?

We’re standing in a room made completely from glass: pillars, podium, ceiling, floor. Looking down, I see people dancing in the club. There’s nothing else in this strange room.

“You’ll find out later,” Alexander says, reading my questioning look. There’s a mysterious note to his voice. I suspect this room is part of the reason I was invited here.

Next up is the champagne bar. And the multi-Michelin-star restaurant. When I ask myself if I’ve seen all of the yacht, Alexander takes me up a marble staircase onto the main deck. Oh my god, look at the pool! What an exceptional place to swim. Or other things I think as I see men and women in all states of undress.

Tonight is opening night. The theme was Greek Divinity. I’m wearing my white dress with a long split on both sides, giving everyone a view of my legs up to my waist when I walk. It’s also sleeveless, with a low cut under the armpits, exposing the gentle istanbul travesti curve of my sideboobs. Sexy, but not too much. I enter the dining room and let my gaze wander across the richly adorned chandeliers, beautifully set round tables with pearl table cloths and golden candleholders. A lot of stunning women, dressed as sexy Greek goddesses, are already seated. At first glance, only a third of those invited are men. I’m guided to my seat by two dazzling women. Everyone at the table takes in everyone, eyes lingering on the less concealed parts of the outfits.

I get to talking. The man next to me is an executive at a pharmaceutical company. The other two women nearby also have high positions: one as a marketing manager at a Swiss bank, the other as the head of PR for a sextoy company. It’s the second time they are here together, they say with all-revealing smiles. They were invited to a more exclusive pre-party a couple of weeks back. The way they mention it and the gleam in their eyes says more than a thousand words.

While our glasses of champagne are constantly topped off, the atmosphere around the table becomes looser. I witness the head of PR rub shoulders with the pharma exec. From his posture and facial expression I surmise that the naughty woman has reached her hand between his legs…

At the surrounding tables it’s less subtle. Holy shit, on that table a woman is lying with her legs spread, in between the plates and cutlery. Her dress is lifted and her underwear missing. Mmmh, I can see how wet she is before a man’s head blocks the view as he goes in for a taste.

It’s the right time to refresh myself outside and I leave for the main deck. But there I realise I’ll not be able to do that. In and around the pool I see young, beautiful women licking each other’s pussy. Not much farther, on the stairs, a woman is riding a man with a feverish expression.

I take everything in, as professionally as possible, but I sense the excitement taking root in my body. I want to stay here, and not only to observe. But a hand slides into mine and turns me around. I look into the eyes of the Swiss bank marketing manager. “Come with me. Alexander asked me to show istanbul travestileri you something that’s even better,” she says with a smirk accompanied by a naughty wink.

Okay, now I know why Alexander was so mysterious when he showed me the glass room. I recognise it’s something you have to experience to understand. See it with your own eyes. Strapped to the large glass pillars are several men, satin bonds fastening wrists and ankles, anchoring their backs against the cold crystalline poles. They are wearing golden crowns, otherwise they’re completely naked. Two of them are receiving a blowjob, luscious lips slowly sliding across their hard shafts. I can read total surrender in their eyes and the women are enjoying letting those hard cocks disappear into their mouths. It’s all… mmmh, delicious to witness.

On the stage – also made of glass – there are five men seated on, you guessed it, glass thrones. They look like Greek gods, scrutinizing gazes scanning the room. The man in the middle resembles Zeus, ruler of the gods, king of Olympus. I also recognise Poseidon, god of the sea, holding a trident. The handsome man’s perfect for the role with his long, wavy hair and full, nicely trimmed beard. It is said that, with his trident, Poseidon could control water and split oceans. From what I observe in the room, it’s mostly legs that are being split.

Our eyes meet. A shiver runs through my body. A scarcely clad woman climbs onto the stage, dancing seductively, but Poseidon keeps his gaze locked on me. The woman strips out of her skin-tight outfit, peeling the fabric from her curvy body. A special show for the gods. Poseidon reaches for her hand and pulls her into his lap where she starts to grind on his crotch.

At that exact moment, two hands grab my hips. I turn around. It’s the marketing manager that brought me here. Her white skirt and blouse are on the floor next to her. She bites her lower lip as her hand traces down her torso. Her breasts are a good handful and sit perky on her chest. Above her shaven pussy she has kept a landing strip. She looks at me feverishly. Without conscious thought I kiss her. Her tongue is soft like velvet. In slow motion she pulls Travesti istanbul my dress down, and pulls my naked body against hers. I grab her tits, nipples hard from arousal. I feel wild and horny.

From the corner of my eye I see that the woman that was grinding Poseidon’s lap has dismounted and is taking his large erection between her lips. The god of the sea looks at me again. I let a moan escape my mouth. Then he beckons me with his trident.

As if hypnotised I release the marketing manager I was kissing and walk in a straight line to the man. With his eyes he demands me to kneel next to the other woman. I kiss his leg, only inches from his balls. Slow and soft. I hear him groan. I lick my way up while his eyes bore into mine. He’s rock hard and throbbing. When I reach his tip, I spit on it and take him in my mouth. While I slide his long cock in and out my mouth, the woman reaches around my back and plays with my breasts. She lowers her head and licks my pussy from behind. I’m soaking wet.

And then I realise. Fuck… the glass floor!

Everyone is watching, hundreds of eyes directed at us. At my wet pussy and at the throbbing cock I’m pushing down my throat. But also at the men fastened to the pillars, waiting with hard-ons for their share of divine lips. There are sparks everywhere inside my body, little bursts of electricity, like the charged air just before a thunderstorm. Excitement in its purest form as I’m part of the show for so many eyes to savour.

I push my head down, taking Poseidon’s cock deeper and deeper. It tickles my throat and I gag. But I don’t slow down. If there’s one cock I want to choke on, it’s that of the god of the sea. Sucking with abandon, my pussy is eaten out just the way I like it. Then the waves crash into me, impetuous and with full force taking control of me. With Poseidon’s cock in my mouth I reach my climax, body quivering in pleasure, moaning around this delicious, hard cock.

When I recover, I stand. Poseidon looks insinuatingly at me with his deep blue eyes. Hmmm, I want to ask him a few questions. But that’s for the next day as Ares, another Greek god, picks me up with his strong arms and carries me to a corner of the room. He bends me over a glass table and spreads my cheeks. His tip rubs against my folds.

“Permission?” he asks politely with a gruff voice.

I take a deep breath and nod, moaning loudly as the god of war stretches my pussy.

Oof… and this is only day one of the seven-day cruise…

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