BDSM

A Room in the Shadows

A vacation spot promoting mixed-race pregnancies.

Spankmasters
May 10, 2024
10 min read
darkroomcleanupwifeforeskinbbcblackpregnantcuckoldDark Room
Dark Room
Dark Room

A Room in the Shadows

Hey, here's another version of the story:

The narrative revolves around themes that might be troublesome to some readers, such as consensual polygamy, anonymous sex, male-male intercourse, interracial relationships, and childbearing. If any of these elements could spoil the story for you, perhaps it's best to move on and discover a different story.

Everyone in this tale is a grownup.

"Hey, Maya! Look at this, Maya!"

Dave exclaimed from the porn computer we keep on the dressing table in our bedroom. I was in the bathroom washing off makeup.

"What's it?"

"A possible trip."

"A what? Hang on a minute and I'll join you."

I finished wiping off my makeup, then I slathered on a night cream. Afterwards, I emerged from the bathroom and found my seat near Dave next to the adult entertainment device.

He was pointing at an ad for a holiday resort focused on lifestyles. He clicked on the ad, and we perused the site together.

The location was on the Atlantic coast of Africa, boasting fabulous weather. The lodgings appeared passable. But the selling point was the democratic opportunities regarding relationships. Erotic games, group activities, dancing, and multiple adult-geared clubs.

"So, it's a Club 18-30 with some turbo, huh?" I joked.

"I think so. It looks exciting. Maybe you could meet someone while you're there?"

Dave had been attempting to persuade me to sleep with another man ever since we obtained the sex laptop. He was elated at the prospect of me receiving a cleansing. I wasn't certain about engaging in such activities, but I was content with the knowledge that a condom compromise wouldn't be a significant issue.

"Alright. I'll investigate it further tomorrow and see if it's within our budget. If it is, shall I organize it?"

"Yes, please!"

"I've scheduled us for the first two weeks of June." I shared with Dave as he walked through the front door.

"You enjoyed it?"

"I expanded my examination. The rooms might not be luxurious, but the team play activities they offered and the clubs interested me. They even have on-site STI testing. You need to test negative to attend any of the lifestyle events."

"Fantastic!" Dave grinned, anticipating the prospect of my impregnation.

"I watched several videos from couples disclosing favorable accounts, always encountering the resort again and again."

"That sounds remarkable to me."

I'd never been on a seven-hour flight before. It is, of course, logical given the holiday destination's position. The flight was frustratingly routine - it boarded on time, landed on time, and no one became overly inebriated or lashed out.

However, the arrival was noteworthy. Despite not possessing e-gates, like Heathrow, the queues were short and snappy. We were met by a van and were at the resort in less than 40 minutes from touch-down.

"Hello, Mr and Mrs Levy. You are occupying room six, in the Kinsey structure. All the buildings are single-storey. Your room has a patio overlooking the marina. Your possessions are in your room. However, you must go to the testing suite first." Placing two white bracelets in our hands, similar to the ones one ends up with at music festivals.

"Your bracelets are white to signify you haven't been examined yet. The QR codes on them are distinct to you and can be used to access all the dining and sport facilities. When your tests return negative, your QR codes will grant you access to group activities and the clubs."

The testing was swift and effective. They presumably had to perform a plethora of tests daily.

We cleaned up, ate at one of the eateries, and retired to bed. The subsequent morning, there was a message on our television screen. We were told to visit reception, and they'd swap our white bracelets for green ones, permitting us to commence our excursion.

The group activities were enjoyable, but perhaps we were a bit ancient for them. Almost like the ones from Club 18-30 during the '80s, I suppose.

By the third day, I'd read all of my paperbacks and wanted some excitement. I intercepted a pair on a footpath and inquired if they'd visited any of the clubs.

"Oh, yes!" The American wife effused. "We hit Club Westheimer last night. I hope I won some kind of reward!"

The husband cast a gentle eye at her before speaking.

"I hope so, sweetheart. Me too. That would be quite a victory for this vacation."

"What's it like?" I asked. "We've not been to any clubs, nor have we clubbed in ages."

"Oh, yes! We visited Club Westheimer last night. There's a bar and a dance floor to begin. Two darkrooms follow. The couple expressed their adoration for the darkrooms. And I'm confident you'll love them, as well."

"Dave, shall we visit Club Westheimer tonight?"

"Absolutely!"

Dave had been growing restless too. Similar to me, he felt over the top for group activities but couldn't just laze around. The club scene was more his cup of tea.

We figured the club Westheimer would open at 9 PM, but it truly livened up around midnight. So, we decided to rest a while, get up at 9 and be there by 10:30.

Upon entering, a hostess welcomed us by scanning our QR codes. I observed the pictures on the walls as she scanned Dave's.

"What are those?" I inquired, pointing at the photos.

"Oh, those are ladies who've triumphed, Mrs. Levy," she responded.

"Is there a contest?" I asked.

"Yes, a natural competition, I guess. I hope you win, Mrs. Levy. We'd adore hanging your photo."

I promptly forgot about the contest as we went on to order a drink and explored. Dave urged me to dance.

I rotated from one partner to another for 30 minutes and really needed a refill when I returned to Dave.

"That was a blast. Let's get another drink and explore. I want to check out the chillout room and see what the darkrooms are."

A short while later, we were in the chillout room, which was just a lounge with mellower, romantic music playing. Lots of people were locking lips and, if I wasn't wrong, they weren't making out with the partners they came with. Things were starting to look up.

A hefty man with a Scandinavian accent meandered toward me.

"Hello, can I kiss you?" he inquired.

"Certainly." I obliged.

He guided me to a banquette and started kissing me, stroking my breasts. It was quite gratifying to be kissed by another man and was starting to get turned on. Dancing and the politeness of the man kissing me had heated me up.

After about 10 minutes, a drum beat began to be played over the music. I broke off and inquired, "What's that?"

"It's to signal everyone that the darkrooms are about to open."

"Like in photography?" I was torn.

"No, not like photography. You get undressed and place your clothes in a locker. Then, you go into a dark room where you can't see anyone at all. You can do whatever you want with these people in the dark."

"Do whatever?" I was puzzled.

"You can have sex if you want. It's not compulsory. However, lots of people choose to do that. Some people simply want to be touched by strangers and never learn who they were touched by."

Dave darted to us. I suppose he found that out, too.

"Do you want to try the dark rooms?" I enquired.

"If you don't mind," he replied, looking at both of us.

I was incredibly excited and the Scandinavian man seemed either polite or eager to make his way there as well. Therefore, Dave took my hand and we ventured to an unexplored direction.

As we parted, he wished us a good time. Then he addressed me, "I wish you'll win."

I was a tad bewildered by the competition but not too bothered.

The changing room was like a gym's, only slightly more elegant. I stripped, put my attire in the locker, and secured it with my QR code. Then, I walked to the other side. The passage was lined with curtain strips that allowed access but swiftly blocked out the brighter changing room light.

I felt the transition in floor design and knew I was entering the darkroom. I could sense a rhythmic music throbbing and perceive bodies all around me. I reached out and grazed against someone. He was probably muscular, going by the ribs I felt.

He grabbed my hand and directed me toward him. I felt his manhood. I knelt and breathed in his dick. It was exciting to learn his foreskin was intact. I licked and felt him swell as I ran my tongue over him.

Then, I placed him in my mouth and attempted to harden him. Whilst he was stiffening, I could feel myself engorging. We'd been yearning for this sexy treat for so long. I wondered how I'd evade Dave in this setting.

After a few minutes, he subtly pushed my head away. "Do you want me to penetrate you?"

Of course, I desired to be penetrated by him. I'd been horny but unsatisfied for several days, and the drinks, the dancing, and the kissing awakened mylibido.

I knelt on the soft flooring and he slid behind me, inserting himself. He was slightly larger than Dave and incredibly gentle. I was overjoyed to experience such complete penetration in this unique setting. Regardless of who he was, he was an expert. He made certain I was aroused and took me to one of my best orgasms in years.

However, he ceased. I felt him completely inserted and experienced the warmth of his cum. He stayed inside me for a bit, then pulled out. I merely felt his semen move within me and start to drip a little when he withdrew. He hadn't worn a condom. I was reassured by the testing and being in my safe time.

I expressed my gratitude with a kiss and stood up. I had to move cautiously to avoid steeping on anyone. I also utilized my hearing to pinpoint where individuals were engaging in intercourse. In actuality, I should refer to it as fucking.

Approximately 10 strides away, I discovered yet another man, and I reached out to him.

"Would you like me to be inside you?" He inquired.

This time, I opted to lie down to spare our knees.

He was the second of three unknown people I permitted to ejaculate inside my unprotected vagina that evening. I could sense the combined semen trickling from me as I returned to the changing rooms. My thighs were glistening and sticky as I entered our bedroom and saw Dave waiting for me.

"Did you have a good time?"

"Fantastic. But I should—"

Dave jolted my speech before I could complete the sentence.

"Allow me to clean you up?"

"Huh?"

"Permit me to lick the cum from you?"

"Really? Do you desire it? And how did you figure that out?"

"Obviously I do. I've desired that for so long. I merely hope you appreciated the experience."

"I did, Dave. It was amazing. Being used by the other husbands. I wasn't aware of their identities. They were merely anonymous penises, and they were all exceptional."

Dave had pushed me onto our bed as I spoke. However, he rose once more before examining my genitals.

"They weren't your other husbands, Maya. They were employees. The men's darkroom is intended for husbands, and the women's darkroom is intended for wives and local males."

I would've inquired further, but he was eagerly cleaning the remaining semen from my vagina and employing his fingers to deliver me one last orgasm that night.

"So, what took place in the darkroom?" I inquired as we lay down.

"A bit of both. Yet, I did not remain long. I desired to be here for your return."

"Yes, but it's quite early now."

"What? It's almost midday!" He exclaimed.

"I assert that we alter our routine," Dave informed me the following day. It was closer to a late lunch due to our fatigue.

"But, but..."

"That's why they screen everyone on arrival for viruses. Everyone is clean, so you can't contract a disease."

"But I could become pregnant!" I exclaimed.

"Of course. That's the reason for the island. Did you read the triumphant tales section on the website prior to scheduling your visit? Don't you observe the extensive daycare and play areas for children? Many women specifically visit this location to get pregnant, and they return year after year."

"Oh. That's what they mean by winning?"

"Exactly. Achieving pregnancy. If you become pregnant, they'll put a photograph of you on the wall."

"But I'll be fertile next week. Aren't there condoms there?"

"I'm confident. But you desire a baby, don't you?"

"A baby that doesn't resemble you?"

"Certainly! A baby with an African father. Wouldn't that be ideal?"

"Yes. But are we prepared?"

"Why did we invest in a house with a backyard and two spare rooms? We want children."

"And you wouldn't mind?"

"Of course not! Are you willing to let me stay your husband?"

"You mean there's a possibility you wouldn't divorce me?"

"Certainly not! But if you attend the darkroom and enjoy it, please let me reserve a return visit for next summer."

"OK!"

Hence, we left Heathrow as a couple, and would be returning as something more than a couple.

"I suggest we switch our routine," Dave suggested. "Let's snooze through the day and only consume breakfast at about 7pm. Visit the club, and spend several hours in the darkroom from 11. Then return to our room for the cleanup and rest."

"You imply we will visit the club every night until we depart?"

"Indeed. Every night. Then, when we return next year, you can have your picture on the wall."

And that's what we opted to do.

Attending the club became a routine. The dancing was there to arouse me. The snogging was there to turn me on. And the darkroom was there to ensure I would go home pregnant.

I modified my technique. I discovered ways to encourage missionary sex, as even though the flooring was soft, it wasn't ideal for kneeling. And I found spots to rest around the edges, enabling me to spend numerous hours there each night.

I'd seek out a stranger, encourage them to penetrate me with their semen, then take a few minutes off before finding someone else. Repeat the process.

Each moment, I'd go back to our room, and Dave would meticulously lick the collected semen from me with delight. And while he did that, I considered the sperm that had crossed my cervix and reached my undefended womb. The sperm that would find my eggs and result in a mixed-race baby. A baby with a dark-skinned father.

We did get up early one day, though. We sat down with one of the sales representatives and booked for the following year.

"Do you think you may need childcare when you visit us again, Mrs. Levy?"

I glanced at Dave. [

"We've really enjoyed our time at Club Westheimer. I might have won something."

"Excellent, Mrs. Levy! I'll book a room with a crib and childcare services for you. So many couples return year after year with multiple children. Our childcare facilities are top-notch. Your little one will be taken care of while you have some fun."

Two weeks passed, and my monthly friend didn't show up. A pregnancy test gave us some good news. The doctor confirmed it.

I was ecstatic, and so was my husband, Dave.

"So, Maya, do you want to secure a spot for next year?"

"Yes. I'd love to go back, but I think we need a year's break between babies. So I'll start using birth control pills. That way, I can really unwind in the darkroom at Club Westheimer."

Since then, we've gone back multiple times. Our two kids are a direct result of our stay at Club Westheimer. We have no plans for more kids, but who knows what might happen in the future?

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Source: www.nice-escort.de