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Diary Of A Unicorn – My Trip To A Sex Club Alone

They call us unicorns, because we are so rare. Women who go to sex clubs without a partner, looking to play.

MILFs who go to sex clubs without a partner? I might have been a unicorn with wings. Lest you think I’m becoming a 7 on my Sex NumberTM scale, don’t worry; this urge was not compulsive, but medicinal. The truth is that many guys go on a sexual rampage after the breakup of a relationship (let alone two) and opt for a little sexual healing, and no one thinks twice. Either that or join the Marines, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t pass the Physical.

I’d been to this club before with my ex-boyfriend, so I felt safe going back by myself. It’s a fairly small club with a large variety of people, all races, ages, shapes and sizes, with good security and a screening process, so I was not worried about getting into trouble (except the kind I was there to get into.) I’d had a wonderful night there with my ex where we hadn’t played with anyone, but were really close (or so I thought.) I felt justified in returning to the scene of the crime, so to speak, for a bit of revenge fucking. Single women get in free at sex clubs for the same reason that if a unicorn showed up at a restaurant, they’d probably comp its dinner.

Keep in mind that I still have a broken big toe… oh maybe I didn’t mention that. Get ready: I broke my toe in the most Malibu way possible; I fell into my spa. In pitch dark, fully clothed, submerged under the cold water like someone with white people’s problems. The reason I was outside was to smoke, so I was trying to find a spot where the kids wouldn’t see me, they were inside. As I was looking back, distracted by the dogs and which kid was where, I stepped right into the water. (I consider the fact that I didn’t crack my head open and die to be both the good news and the bad news…)

It’s been a week and I’m no longer on crutches, and it doesn’t hurt to put on shoes… unless I want towalk. So there I was, showing up at the sexy sex club in my Ugg boots. The last time I was at this club, I was wearing 6-inch heels and towering over everybody except my boyfriend and the Trans ladies, who by the way were rocking that shit. So I was quite happy in my flats, not to mention comfortable, even before I glanced into the first playroom after the entrance and SAW SOMEONE I HAD ALREADY SLEPT WITH.

Here was the rub-we had had sex when he and his girlfriend had been on quite a long break, and now here he was inviting me in to their party while at the same time muttering, “We don’t know each other.” Anyone who knows me knows that I do not tangle with anyone who is involved in a relationship, unless their partner is right there telling me it’s okay. When I was with him before, he was most definitely single. I hated the mendacity, but his girlfriend was SO FUCKING HOT, that I was like, “Meh. It’s not exactly a lie, more like an omission.”

She was from an indeterminate Eastern European country with a really hot accent, but I didn’t even get a chance to ask her where, before I was taking off my clothes and sucking on her nipples. I really should do something about my shyness. Of course I felt a little more comfortable because I already knew the guy, but I also just felt comfortable because I really like pussy and there she was presenting her body like a smorgasbord. So much was on offer; the boobs, the neck, the mouth, the hair, and below the smooth oak cutting-board of her stomach, a perfectly groomed Eastern Bloc buffet.

I worked my way through all the courses and then down I dived (dove?)… and made her come. Twice. (I don’t use “cum,” prefer the regular spelling.) After she had finished moaning in Czech (or whatever it was) I raised my arms in victory, not only because I’m a goofball even when I’m having a threesome, but also because I understood yet again why men love licking pussy so much- when you make a girl come with your mouth you feel like a G-ddamn champ! And then…

To be continued…

*This post was originally published at MalibuMom

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