Five o'clock didn't arrive nearly fast enough for Monica Collana. She periodically monitored her watch while cleaning out her "in" basket. The day had been interminable with its assorted travails. Accustomed to her fire-fighting environment, Monica handled each situation with ease. Rarely was she left in a quandary as what to do.
When the minute hand reached the twelve, Monica removed her high heels and replaced them with her Reeboks. If she strategically maneuvered about people, getting to the parking lot and starting her car could be accomplished before she caught her second wind.
Greg Newton, one of the brokers, blocked her path. "Hey, we were going to stop downstairs for some drinks. Care to join us?"
"I appreciate your asking, but I have other plans." She patted her equipment bag.
"Ah. The exercise bug has bitten you. Do you go to the health club often."
"Every chance I get."
"Yes," he remarked, taking in her luscious curves. "I'm sure you work up quite a sweat maintaining that shape."
Monica, a stunning brunette with long legs and a svelte figure, freely earned compliments. At twenty-eight, she was in the prime of health. Of Italian descent and with a touch of Gypsy, she boasted a voluptuous quality. She required the restraint of a sports bra when jogging or cycling. Although top-heavy, she never once considered breast reduction. Monica did not believe in tampering with her natural gifts.
Monica had no desire to be rude, but the clock was ticking. "I'm terribly sorry, Greg, but I really have to run."
"Perhaps another time. We could have dinner, and take in a movie, if you'd like."
"That's sweet. I'll give it some thought." She moved around him, rendering a polite smile. His invitation, though kindhearted, would be discounted. Monica adhered to strict guidelines regarding dates with coworkers; unless deemed a professional commitment, she regularly declined them.
Greg Newton was rakishly handsome. Six-feet, four inches of man, the stockbroker mesmerized many of the sales assistants. His dark blond hair, smattering of freckles and spruce manner won their attention. At thirty-six, he was back in circulation after an unsuccessful marriage. His availability, however, failed to entice her. She wrote him off as she did the other salivating bachelors at the office. She was hit on with nauseating regularity. The sage ones quickly took the hint; others learned the hard way.
She inserted a CD into her player and let the thumping beat of the Rolling Stones fill her car. She mentally distanced herself from the drudgery of the office and allowed the music to envelop her.
The Club was several miles away-a stretch she skillfully covered. Monica pushed the speed limit to its legal restriction. Getting there took her hardly any time.
Rows of Mercedes, Porsches, BMWs and various sports cars lined the lot. Monica found a spot at the far end. The inconvenience of a remote location did not bother her. She was too happy to have arrived at her desired destination.
The Club was a sprawling structure of mammoth proportions. According to its promotional material, the owners had completely rehabbed the building. Previously a deserted warehouse with an affordable price tag, it had been transformed into the town's hottest fitness center. The owners, sparing no expense, parlayed it into a gold mine by making a substantial investment in state-of-the-art equipment-some pieces specifically constructed for The Club. It stocked machinery of popular demand-much not found elsewhere.
A guard at the door verified Monica's membership. She produced a card from her purse and surrendered it to him. The card was scanned by a machine-proof her dues were current-before she was granted admittance. The Club had zero tolerance for those dodging their monthly fees.
The Club buzzed with activity. Strapping hunks clad in tank tops and jogging shorts patrolled the hall. Women of succulent leanness, similarly attired, acknowledged their indications of interest and whispered amongst themselves. In their skimpy exercise garb, the sexes were commonly on display. The members took pleasure in being studied. Ogling was not only condoned, but expected.
Behind the glass wall that ran the lengths of the concourse were the racquetball courts. Ruggedly defined backs and flexing buttocks were on exhibit for the viewing pleasure of passersby. To the left, the body-toning instruments were quartered. The Club stocked every imaginable device. To the right was a gym for those who preferred basketball. A staircase descended to an Olympic-sized pool.
Monica relished the scenery. All that firm, exposed flesh revved her engine. The groans provoked by punishing routines of the equipment were a stimulant. The scent of perspiration turned her on.
She went to the locker room and slipped into her low-cut leotard and tights. The contrast of her black outfit against her dark, peasant looks enriched her appeal. Smirking, she consulted her reflection in the full-length mirror. Monica resembled a tigress-a sexual predator. There was no hiding her obvious sensuality.
She took stock of her curvaceousness. Her attire provided for ample cleavage. She ran a finger down the cleft of her bosom, then scooped up those immense globes. The nipples protruded through the fabric. Her excitement was habitually transparent.
Another asset was her dark, "fuck me" eyes. Monica conveyed messages by flashing them. They held delicious impertinence. In an atmosphere where people conserved their strength by measuring their words, communication was not a problem. Body language was fluently employed.
She proceeded to the fitness center. The muscle-developing apparatuses were heavily in use. Studs of Herculean dimension operated contraptions that maximized their biceps. Their biceps expanded beneath a challenging battery of exertions. Unafraid of their size or complexity, the women straddled equipment equally imposing. Stair-climbers, treadmills, weight-lifting machines, stationary bikes, rowboat simulators and a host of other paraphernalia were put in service.
Monica held her breath. Across the room, she studied a man endowed with a Greek god's physique. Ruggedly handsome, the dark-haired stallion quickened her pulse. Sitting upright with his legs thrown apart, he elevated the stacked weights with a mighty pull. The sight of his sturdy limbs had her leaping with lust. His sinew rippled with each subsequent endeavor. Purring, she drank in his fierce masculinity.
Without warning, he gazed at her. It was as though he detected her unwavering stare. Even as sweat trickled from his brow, he managed an unruffled smirk. They exchanged a lasting smile, after which he carried on his arduous ritual.
A tall, red-haired German manning the Leg Press also attracted her eye. Positioned on his back with his feet planted on a vertical bar, he calmly benched what might have been daunting to others. Monica leered at that athletic frame and indulged in an erotic daydream.
Perceiving her fixation, he boldly met her hungry stare. His enthusiasm and presumable appetite seemed to parallel hers. He mutely conveyed his receptivity to pleasing her. She appreciated the candor of his smile. He flashed a knowing grin before recommencing.
Monica left the room in favor of the swimming pool. She entered the area in time to witness a well-developed blonde execute a perfect dive. Her big tits tapered to a tiny waist, accentuated by narrow hips. She cut across the water with sure, graceful strokes. Monica swallowed roughly at the sight of her compact buns as they bobbed at the surface. Her sleek legs propelled her.
When lifting herself at the edge, water spilled seductively down her pendulous breasts. The cooler temperature spurred the growth of her nipples. The cups of her bikini top couldn't begin to conceal her enlarged nubs, nor could the bottoms camouflage the soggy ringlets that emerged from its panel.
The blonde engaged her in lustful rumination. They hid nothing during their protracted study, and barely held in check the compulsion to kiss. Monica had no reservations about crossing over to women. They riled her to a like degree.
Monica scrutinized people until restless. Many more captured her imagination, but she had reached surfeit long before. It was time. Her body was screaming for it. The urge consumed her.
Outside that chamber, a guard of nondescript appearance sat at a desk. Beside him lurked a steel door. He casually regarded Monica as she made her approach.
"Good evening, Miss Collana," he greeted, i recognizing her on sight.
She presented a laminated card bearing her picture, name and statistical data. He entered her personal identification number into the terminal positioned on his desk. Within seconds, the screen displayed pertinent information. Nodding, he pressed a button under his desk.
"Have a pleasant evening, Miss Collana," he bade her before Monica went through the door.
Beyond that portal known as the Entrance, the outside world ceased to exist. Monica relinquished her identity upon consigning herself to the luxury that awaited.
The room moved with sweaty flesh. A salty scent pinched her nostrils. She glimpsed writhing bodies at every angle. Recessed lighting provided an eerie glow. Moans resonated, one superseded by another. Tongues wriggled into crevices. Mouths absorbed cocks. Distended nipples were utterly devoured. The one sound that ruled all else was that of a pussy receiving a hard dick. Women rested on them, squatted before them or simply laid on their backs and authorized entry.
No sooner had Monica passed the threshold than hands swooped down on her. Her leotard and tights were carefully removed. Tension was not placed on her garment. Her stripping was orchestrated in stages. She quietly submitted to it. Gentle fingers swept over her body. Her nipples throbbed from an aimless swirl. Monica couldn't distinguish between male and female. The delicacy with which she was treated lured her into madness.
Across from her, she surveyed the abundance of flesh. A woman stroked a man's thigh while he pumped her. Arching his spine, he permitted his audience unobstructed viewing. Monica saw his cock sliding in and out of her pussy. That wide section, amply greased, protruded from her pink folds.
A fairly inflamed couple fucked doggie-style several feet away. The man, enclosing his partner's shapely buttocks, dragged them to the base of his stiff cock. He took inordinate satisfaction in caressing her. His large hands leisurely traipsed over her hips and ass. His balls issued a repeated slap. She sobbed as his thing descended. He gasped upon settling into her groove.
Others populated the room, practicing every variety of sex. Men and women were licked in rotation by multiple servants. Many switched partners before orgasm. Flesh changed hands without discrimination.
Her leotard gone, Monica quivered as a mouth encased her nipple. The light suction was almost unbearable. A tongue revolved with disarming frequency. Coupled with those explosive images, she was at virtual saturation.
The Club was her personal haven. Each of its members submitted to a series of tests to determine their state of health. Not all received the same privileges. In addition to a hefty enrollment fee, monthly examinations were mandatory. If anyone's hardiness was suspect, he or she was forced to undergo a supplementary evaluation or be denied access. Once barred, a member was forbidden to rejoin. The necessary and legally binding disclaimers were on file, signed by each member upon initiation, protecting The Club from unfavorable publicity.
Monica had no problem adhering to the rules. She permitted no man to touch her outside of The Club. Members were reliably disease-free. Craving safe, uncomplicated sex, she took comfort in that fact. One could fully explore his or her fantasies without guilt nor concern. Though the dues were barely affordable, Monica gladly reorganized her budget to meet them.
The Entrance opened behind her. The weightlifter she ogled at the fitness center had come. A rush of hands disrobed him. He acknowledged Monica with a solemn nod. She shivered in anticipation.
While he got naked, Monica was ushered into the ring of flesh. Tongues tenderly lashed her body. She welcomed the dash of bubbly warmth to her nipples. Others sought her pussy. She freely gave it. At The Club, one shed his or her inhibitions at the door.
The Entrance intermittently opened, disgorging fresh resources. Eyes flickered at the new arrivals, many recognizable from previous sessions. Their clothing was peeled and labeled for reclamation purposes. They were slowly incorporated into the group.
Monica moaned as something warm and wet slithered into her pussy. Between her legs, the face of that knockout blonde from the pool resided. She noisily downed her seepage. Dividing her cunt lips, she meticulously cleaned that pink region. Her blue spheres were glued to her. Monica pursued them through her feathery fringe. She whispered words of hot encouragement while feeding her that ooze.
A man licked the curvature of her spine, then traveled over her butt cheeks before descending into her crack. Monica shook as he probed her anus. She gasped at his wriggling insertion. That tongue made a thorough pass of her rectum. Saliva dribbled down her inner thigh. Even when the pleasure became unendurable, that tip did not pause. Monica turned to see that her assailant was none other than the weightlifter. His obsession with her anus was irreconcilable. He plunged into it, effecting those exquisite sensations.
From the blur of flesh, the red-headed German stepped. Monica was clearly his objective. He marched up to her with purpose knitted into his expression. His blue eyes imparted the message, "Give me a blow-job." Planting his feet firmly apart, he dangled his semi-erect dick. Her lips instantly captured it. Initially, he was pliant. She sucked the head, then gradually took more. Pivoting his hips enabled her to evenly take him.
The blonde slurping her cunt robbed her of concentration. She lapped her in detail, leaving not a shred of clarity. Monica squirmed, conscious of its limber stride. The woman eating her gave Monica no opportunity to catch her breath. She devoured her snatch.
The weightlifter continued his anal investigation. Exploring her wrinkled opening, he obtained a guttural moan. He stabbed into her buttocks, lubricating it.
Her thought process impaired, Monica resorted to kissing the dick in her face. Licks were distributed when possible. The redheaded stud favored her bubbly treatment. She dabbed him with saliva until his cock grew. Her lips swooped over his dilated head and locked under its rim. She sucked until his male essence rinsed her palate.
Meanwhile, her fingers coiled around the foot of his cock and tugged. She spurred his development. Up and down her fist went, experiencing his solidification. He sprouted in her grasp.
She included more of him in her oral clamp. Her lips moved downward, displacing her hand. She fluttered across his veins, sprinkling her spit. His dick bunched around her shrunken lips, then sank into her face. In and out he glided, steadily burgeoning. She pulled on him, drawing him into her taut ring. Exercising skill, she obtained every stretchable inch from his cock. Her expedient lips brought him to his peak size. It curved from his groin, extremely rigid.
The blonde withdrew her mouth and stuck her finger into Monica's cunt. She pumped Monica's loins until the nectar gushed, and elicited a sharp whimper. When Monica had been sufficiently tapped, the blonde plucked her digit and attended the outpour. Her kitten-like licks brought on a dizzy spell. She pinned back the lips of her pussy and lowered her serviceable tip into its liquid center. The results were electrifying.
At that same moment, the weightlifter aligned himself to Monica's backside. She felt his exhalations on her shoulder. His blunt knob dipped into her juiced ass-hole.
Immediately detaching her lips, Monica wailed. The weightlifter took purchase of her waist and gradually introduced himself to that quivering butt hole. Pain was not an issue. Monica's outcry was passion-based. Anal sex was precisely what she physically sought. She savored the cock submerged in her ass. It followed her, no matter how wildly she bucked. Its operator ground himself to her sweet buns, instilling an unshakable awareness of his size. She whimpered from its hollowing force.
The blonde's vibrant tip diluted the ache. She ran her tongue over and over Monica's pink succulence, erasing every discomfort. Of course, she did not suffer from that rectum-splitting monster. The two sensations neutralized each other. Only splendor prevailed.
The German cupped the back of her head and reemployed her lips. His dick slid smoothly into her smothering clasp. It was quite gratifying to have a cock in her mouth. She sucked it with renewed vigor. Her lips traveled its length, taking a moment to sample its pulsations, which were highly prevalent. His dick slid back, juicy with spit.
The red-headed German's head lolled. He pulled back his lips, baring clenched teeth. From his posture, he obviously loved what her mouth did to him.
Behind her, a stiff cock buried itself in her ass. She received it with a shudder. Her anus expanded and contracted to accommodate him. That dick speared into her narrow channel, demanding all conceivable space. Eight inches of virtual bone plowed into her bowels.
After applying her suck, she lathered his balls. The sweat he exuded during his workout collected in that region. She slurped his pouch until his flesh swam in her drool. When another slobbering stroke became unbearable, he returned himself to her mouth.
The blonde noisily gobbled her cunt. Monica could feel her siphon the juice. The girl parted her cunt lips, gleaning the spice not only from her flaps, but the hole, too. Her slurps made Monica insensitive to the cock in her ass. After a fashion, the blonde focused almost exclusively on her clit. That sinuous tip encountered her love button, one unvarying lash at a time. Soon, Monica had difficulty breathing-the pleasure was that intense.
Several feet away, Monica observed a man fucking a woman. Clutching her thighs, he vigorously stuffed himself into her pussy. His hips jerked wildly as he put it to her. The woman undulated, overcome by the pumping he gave her. In pulling back, Monica noted his substantial width. She understood the woman's distinct incoherence. The man showed signs of cumming-his misshapen features supported that opinion. Suddenly, he pulled out and immediately seized the woman's wrist. Monica watched as he dragged her hand to his dick and had her massage him. Absently, the woman complied. Within seconds, his jism splattered her tits. Her nipples received a creamy coat. A gut-wrenching cry tore from his throat as he emptied himself over her squirming body.
The German's fingers dug into her skull. With scarlet cheeks, he labored in front of her. Monica was scarcely ready for his torrent of cum. He exploded fast, shooting in her mouth. She gulped it as best she could. The blonde's tongue defeated her.
The weightlifter was next. He yanked himself from her butt and squirted. Most of his spunk landed on her rear. She was oblivious to its splash. Although he commanded a respectable amount of space in her rear, she was not haunted by the attributable vacuum. Again, that fantastic licking was responsible for diffusing the hurt.
The blonde ate her nonstop. Monica lost track of the orgasms she had. The final one dealt her was bewildering. She twisted above' that poised tip, heavily contracting. The spasms were, by far, the strongest.
As she sank into a pleasant state of numbness, Monica silently thanked the person accountable for making The Club a reality. The ownership, unfortunately, was shrouded in mystery. Nobody-not even its employees-had an inkling as to the proprietor's true identity.
Furthermore, he or she took steps to ensure complete anonymity. Monica once accidentally discovered from an acquaintance that orders concerning the management of The Club were customarily E-mailed to its executive offices. The owner remained a faceless entity.
CHAPTER TWO
Diane Krazinski gazed at her reflection in the locker room. Wrapped in a towel, her body looked truly voluptuous. She whipped her blonde hair over her shoulders and fixed her reflection with a sultry smile. The knot she tied did not withstand the bounce of her huge breasts. Slowly, it came undone. The slightest pressure or an accidental jolt would cause its slippage.
Diane didn't fret about baring her appetizing flesh to The Club's members. She longed to tantalize them with her sensational curves-it was a matter of timing that concerned her. Dropping her towel was done with precision and flair. Diane was an authority at tantalizing that premier faction of The Club. She had joined that organization in its infancy, and since reaped the benefits of its "in-crowd."
To her earliest recollection, Diane had a fetish for athletes. Men and women a-like provoked her libido. The parks and gyms exerted a magnetic pull, compelling her to watch most rigorous forms of exercise. Basketball and soccer players, the decathlon contestants-even the devout body builders-signaled her attention. After staring endlessly at accomplished divers, she enrolled as one. Diane perfected her diving skills, but often stared at the masters who congregated at the swimming pool. It became a ritual she could break. Diane was driven to masturbation, the most convenient outlet for her rankled hormones. Eventually, she hungered for genuine contact. In a world riddled by disease, social problems and other calamities, her problem was not easily solved.
She then became aware of The Club.
Naturally drawn to such establishments, Diane gladly parted with the exorbitant fee. The Club was touted as the hottest ticket for the exercising set. She was in total agreement. She found a unique universe of individuals committed to physical conditioning. She went every chance, taking advantage of her membership. Through regular visitation, she learned of a supplementary service. Having kept a close eye on her, The Club's staff quietly divulged its operation. Discretion, they insisted, was key. The induction fee did not faze her. Diane automatically made an allowance for it in her budget. The purse strings were tight, but she found a means of stretching them. She readily complied with the mandatory testing. The Club's provisions to ensure a safe environment sold her.
The Club's prerequisite satisfied, Diane soon learned of its auxiliary value. The sex was incredible and rarely disappointing. She encountered people with similar tendencies. Her appetite for muscular flesh was constantly appeased. Guilt, nor risk, were never factored into the picture.
Once again, she secured her towel around her sumptuous body. A simple tuck was all that was required. She proceeded to the sauna, where she intended to gain a half-hour of cleansing steam. Ridding her body of undesirable toxins was not her express aim.
She longed for some company.
Gusts of white vapor swirled around her upon opening the door. A session in the sauna could be brutal for those with inferior constitutions. Diane handled the wilting temperature without incident.
As she hoped, two couples occupied the room. Involved in amorous play, all were connected. Bodies fitted together like puzzle pieces, each serving a specific function.
A beautiful redhead knelt between her partner's legs, slurping his cock. A busty brunette, standing on the bench, lowered her snatch onto her boyfriend's face. Behind the redhead, a hunky blond sandwiched his cock in her pink folds. A thick haze partially camouflaged them.
Such occurrences weren't abnormal at The Club. Generally, they were staged in the Orgy Room, just beyond The Entrance. Erotic adventures didn't end there. Beyond that chamber existed a maze of rooms, designed to cater to every predilection. The sauna was such an option.
Diane relished stumbling upon such events. The ability to trade partners in midstream was essential to her. Variety was the spice of life at The Club-and Diane fully availed herself of it.
Last night, for example, she indulged herself in the Orgy Room. Diane ate a sensational brunette of Italian descent while the woman was butt-fucked and had her face crammed with cock. After consuming her tangy secretions, Diane managed to sit on the stud who had been sucked off. She revived his impressively long dick with serpentine licks, then steered it into her wet cunt. She came three times before he erupted, and even then, craved more. Other studs were called upon to extinguish the fire in her loins. Diane, when totally aroused, often became insatiable.
Gazing at the private orgy being conducted in the middle of those billowing clouds, Diane recognized a superb opportunity. Each participant was well-proportioned and deliciously symmetrical. She yearned for their individual taste.
Diane stooped beside the blond stallion. He groaned while sliding into the redhead's pussy. She glimpsed the protruding growth that bridged their bodies. He had a nice-sized cock. It surely filled the redhead to capacity, given her abandoned sway.
The blond, noticing Diane, caressed her tit. The towel instantly unraveled and ejected her mammoth breasts. He elicited a strong sigh from Diane while tracing the pink border of her nipple. His rotating finger increased its measure. Though distracted, he continued jamming the redhead with his cock. Her sobs confirmed his gratifying friction.
Diane descended upon his mouth. She wanted to kiss him while his cock was in that woman. She explored that warm cavern, discerning his animal vibrations. Making out with a man buried in someone else's flesh turned her on. Liking the tremors that went skin-deep, she equated them to a time bomb nearing detonation. She sought its ignition.
He passionately responded. His tongue came alive beneath her exotic swirls. She pressed her nipples into his chest, savoring its firmness. His arm came around her, dragging her closer. She moaned at the strength he exhibited. His hand settled over her buttocks, where he gave a pinch. He enclosed one cheek, inspecting its suppleness. Her flesh yielded to his curiosity.
Diane ended their kiss to watch his thrusting cock. It vanished in the redhead's pussy, then came out with a flourish. The blond pulled back, keeping all but the domed head planted. He invited her to watch. Diane's lips curved. Given his length, penetration had been extensive. The redhead must have taken him close to the womb. The redhead's cunt produced intriguing wet sounds. He sliced into it, then reversed direction. He smashed his balls to that wiggling rump. After savoring his partner's crushing embrace, he retreated the action. His dick emerged, soaked with her love oils. Back and forth it cruised, bringing him a stroke closer to orgasm.
Releasing her posterior, the blond groped Diane's mound. She shivered as he pressed his thumb into her soaked gash. Hot juice spilled over him. He rubbed her clit. Diane swallowed roughly, then exhaled. He afforded her a dizzying rush.
The sauna echoed with gasps. Diane contributed to its volume. She rocked on her knees while the blond fingered her. After several jiggling moments, however, she craved a new form of stimulation.
Assuming a supine position, she crawled between the blonde's legs. The light dusting on his thighs brushed her nakedness. Diane purred at the blend of flesh and hair. Above her, the blonde's cock glided into the redhead's pussy. She listened to, as well as witnessed, them noisily connect. That vein-riddled shaft merged with that furry snatch. His balls swung to that trim ass as he drove himself home. Those juicy lips adjusted to his thickness. Red fluff bordered that glistening pink patch. As her flaps separated, Diane spotted the woman's clit. Its swollen condition aggravated her.
Extending her tongue, Diane ran it over the woman's exposed pussy. She immediately recognized her delight. The protracted gasp overhead attested to her joy. She continuously lashed her and gulped her flow of excitement. The redhead's pleasure dissolved on her tongue. Diane licked her lips, then searched for more.
Diane had developed a liking for cunt. At The Club, there was an inexhaustible supply. Though not limited to that commodity, she availed herself of it as often as possible.
That dick climbed into her pussy. Diane broadened her orbit of licks to include him. She danced over that manly mass, loitering over its protruding veins. He tasted wonderful. She slurped their linked flesh, fluctuating between the two. She took care of his balls, too. Foamy spit covered his sack. The blond deliberately slowed, evidently to obtain more of her sizzling froth. He growled with pleasure at her circuitous patterns. Though delirious, he kept pushing himself to the redhead's inner recesses.
Diane craned her head to see the cock the redhead absorbed. Her lips came down, engulfing him to the root. The man sitting in front of her groaned. He shifted in his seat during her steady gobble.
Sucking a dick obsessed her. Diane retired from her spot below the blond and redhead. Sharing that thing was of utmost importance. She snuck between that stud's legs. Although a stunning brunette sat on his face, he instinctively threw his knees farther apart to allow her ample room.
The redhead licked one side of her man's cock, then the other. Her tongue was feverishly employed. She endeavored to get him off with her mouth. Her lips rolled back and forth, sustaining his erection. Despite giving close attention to the pussy he sucked, he kept track of the redhead's accomplishments.
Diane gently pushed the redhead away. That swollen thing slipped out, red and throbbing. She smelled the girl's saliva on his skin. His dick had been sucked short of climax. A few minutes later, he probably would have jetted hot goo onto her wriggling tongue.
Before Diane could offer him some oral heaven, the redhead kissed her. Their tits smashed together into one mountainous pile. Diane shivered from the electricity her nipples discharged. The redhead expelled some delightful voltage.
The man's muscular thighs surrounded them. His cock's discoloration was not as severe. Diane gently took him in her fist. As her fingers closed around his shaft, he broke into a staccato beat. Her touch was raw energy. She carefully massaged him, feeling him swell. The skin of his cock extended to its maximum potential. He exhibited his peak growth.
She licked his bloated crown. Her tip waltzed about his cum slit, then moistened its bulging brim. The man trembled in his seat. Her saliva triggered a noticeable disturbance. She took that huge bulb in her mouth and sucked it. The redhead's spittle and a small amount of his creamy emission melted on her tongue. Diane ran up and down, then squeezed him with her lips. After completing her course, she surrendered him to the redhead.
The redhead, however, was unprepared. Her mouth dropped open, her eyes glazed over. She gasped. The blond, groaning, slammed into her from behind. Diane heard the slap of flesh. His balls relentlessly whacked her ass. She received a steady diet of meat.
Diane fired her by licking those stiff nipples. Those ripe nubs swelled from her hot tonguing. The redhead moaned as Diane pursed each of them and wielded her suck. Diane experienced the redhead's excitement through her mouth. She perceived her exhilaration of getting fucked by the blonde's big dick. She dealt her a flurry of bubbles to carry her through that delicious turbulence.
The brunette perched on the man's face shuddered. He pressed his mouth to her wet pussy while she spasmed. Smearing his chin and nose, she muffled his gulps. Her sharp sobs echoed in the sauna.
Steam encompassed them. Passions continued to climb and crest. The stifling heat pushed their body temperatures to the limit. The room was relative to a jungle.
Diane resumed sucking the man. His cock filled her mouth, then throat. She stroked him while stuffing her face. Slick with saliva, he glided through her fist. He pulsated in her feverish grip. To accentuate his happiness, she wiggled over the protruding vein of his underside. Her tip traced the road map of bluish vessels. When his breathing worsened, she opened wide and swallowed his thing. She journeyed to the very bottom of that monster, then soared to its top. By the time she withdrew, he looked ready to explode.
The redhead writhed on her hands and knees, accepting all the blond gave. Her tits pivoted from the ramming she took. Her eyes blazed, her lips trembled. She definitely savored that hot piston action.
Using both her mouth and hand, Diane worked toward getting off that man. His dick burned against her skin as he scaled that incline. She ordered his resignation. Her tongue danced over his bloated crown, providing him ample reason.
He exhaled through clenched teeth. His face brightened under the flaring tension.
Diane waited until she heard that choked groaned before aiming his cock. He spurted within seconds, his cum splashing over the redhead's tits. Diane's lips curved at his geyser. He showered her nipples with his creamy expulsion.
The redhead quivered. She seemed unable to digest that moment's splendor.
Diane immediately cleaned the jism with her tongue. She derived satisfaction from slurping it from those thick stubs. Each lapping ended with a resounding suck.
The blond man watched Diane's gyrations across his partner's bosom. He contorted, then savagely hammered into her buttocks. His guttural cries signaled his reaching a similar pinnacle.
With cum dripping from her tongue, Diane went into the redhead's mouth. Together, they enjoyed the taste of that man's orgasm.
After a second, the blond released the redhead's waist. She slid away from his rigid cock, oozing with jism. She floated into Diane's arms, hotly embracing.
CHAPTER THREE
Roses were on her desk. Monica, stunned, almost dropped her duffel bag as she breezed in that morning. The other sales assistants glanced enviously at them. One tried reading the message just as Monica happened on the scene.
"Secret admirer, hmmmm?" Cindy teased.
"I wouldn't know." Slipping out the card, she silently read its inscription. "Thursday's good for me." She peered across the room. Greg Newton monitored her response while talking on the phone.
"A new man in your life?" Cindy probed.
She sighed. "A wannabe." Returning the card to its envelope, she pushed the vase aside and consciously avoided glimpsing him again. Greg did not need encouragement.
Monica immersed herself in her daily routine. Her boss, Steve Hoffmann, was out of the office. She returned calls, wrote trade tickets and opened several accounts. Monica commonly enjoyed the fast pace of brokerage.
When things remained calm for five minutes, she began creating a letter on her word processor. Within seconds, her phone rang.
"Just thought I'd confirm our date," Greg huskily whispered.
"Thanks for the flowers," she said, masking her irritation. "They're lovely and really dress up my work space."
"You're avoiding the question."
"You know my evening schedule. I'll be at The Club."
"It isn't healthy to subject yourself to all that exercise."
"I'm conditioned to it."
"One night away won't hurt. I'll make certain it's thoroughly enjoyable, if permitted." His soft chuckle was highly suggestive.
Greg's persistence rankled her. "Honestly, Greg, there are a dozen women in this office willing to make a pact with the devil for such a proposition. Why not poll them?"
He sighed. "I sense rejection."
"Don't take it personal." She gently returned the instrument to its cradle, sparing him an awkward retreat.
As the quitting hour grew near, Monica avidly regarded her duffel bag. Her need to be at The Club became insufferable. She planned a quick getaway and wouldn't let anyone-even her boss-detain her.
Two minutes before taking flight, Greg Newton appeared at her desk.
"Is your health club that one at the intersection of Maple and Sherborne?" he inquired.
She nodded.
"Good." He swung his equipment bag bearing the LA Gear label from behind. "Think I'll check it out. I've been unhappy with my current facility. I'm sure yours is much nicer."
Monica barely contained her shock. "It's expensive, and by private membership."
"I assure you, the fee I usually pay is astronomical. Surely, I can afford yours on a trial basis."
"I suppose, in your case, there's nothing to lose." Externally, she displayed no negative signs. Internally, she agonized over his decision. The thought of Greg tagging along brought discomfiture.
"I can follow you there, or we could take my car, if you prefer."
"We should singularly provide our own transportation. If you get bored, you may want to leave. I typically spend several hours there."
He grinned. "I can stand a real workout."
She didn't like the implication in his voice. Greg was much too tenacious. She questioned whether to bend her rules and grant him the date he wished for. The alternative-bringing a reminder of her daytime existence to The Club-was far more disturbing. The role she assumed there vastly differed from her normal character.
"Greg, maybe-"
"Save it. I'll see you later." He dashed off before she could change his mind.
Greg had the necessary credit approval on his Visa Gold Card to gain entrance. Monica watched in mute dissatisfaction as he headed for the locker room. His presence put a damper on her evening.
Determined to survive the ordeal, she donned her exercise attire. The Club teemed with an overabundance of heavenly bodies. He wouldn't be dependent on her company for long. Invariably, some hot little number would preoccupy him. She counted upon intervention.
Originally, Monica planned to duck Greg on the way to The Entrance. The Club was a labyrinth of corridors that often confused members. Only those of its inner circle had them memorized.
No sooner did she depart the locker room, but he called out to her. "Over here," he cheerfully waved.
Neither of them was prepared for the visual impact of their skimpy duds. Monica had never seen Greg in anything other than a suit. The tight T-shirt and hip-hugging shorts enhanced his appeal. Greg boasted a nice build-nothing Herculean, but savory. He had long, lean limbs flecked with hair and ample sinew. His exposed flesh made her a shade horny. She calmly reminded herself that, regardless of the spark kindled, he was off-limits.
Greg made no secret of his delight during his candid perusal. The leotard scarcely shielded the cleft of her jutting breasts. The dramatic tapering of her huge bust to her tiny waist, then the awesome curve of her hips put him on further standby. Her ass was prominently featured. "Wow," he remarked after catching his breath.
She forced herself to focus solely on his face. Even then, she was taken by his virile profile. That flawless countenance, smooth and tanned, shook her foundation. Though seen daily, it took on new meaning at The Club. His mouth, which had a sensual slant, produced some steamy ideas. His glasses customarily subdued his intensity, but at that moment, they accentuated it.
"Which is your preference?" she asked, clearing her throat. "The machines, racquetball or the swimming pool?"
"Are you blushing?" he asked, a trifle amused.
"Why? Do I look it?"
"Your cheeks are practically burning." He grinned. "We ought to do this more often."
His comment singed her. Greg knew full well she liked what she saw. She denied him the satisfaction of admitting it. The swarm of exercise machines would exhaust his impertinence. "We're wasting time," she glacially declared. "Let's go."
Monica attacked the stair-climber with a vengeance. Determined to remain aloof, she labored on its hydraulic pedals. Her thighs screamed from the energy she expended. She achieved a uniform pace, enjoying the demand it placed on her abdominals.
Meanwhile, Greg accepted the challenge of the bench press. For someone of his lankness, he managed to lift a hundred pounds without breaking into a perspired mess. He gradually increased the amount of weight for optimum resistance. Rivulets of sweat eventually tricked over his handsome features.
Monica couldn't help noticing-nor desiring him. He strangely aroused her-more than was deemed comfortable. She simply did not fuck men from her office. The Club set no conditions forbidding such a practice, but advised its members that additional testing was required if involved in unprotected sex. Nothing prevented them from exploring their passions, providing he wore a condom. That, however, contradicted her stringent policy.
Lust, unfortunately, crept through her system. Her pussy tightened with hunger. Those pangs were unbearable.
Other women in the gym competed for his eye. They sent him blatant signals, each intending to snare him. Some licked their lips, others thrusting their tits. One brazenly simulated a sexual position while straddling a stationary bike.
To her ill luck, Greg was good-looking. Monica loathed her predicament. It wasn't fair for him to flaunt that appetizing body-not when she couldn't have it. She had reprogrammed herself not to sleep with untested men.
"Excuse me," she said, dismounting the stair-climber. She hustled straight to The Entrance without verifying that he was on her tail. He looked somewhat puzzled as she hurried past him.
She shook while furnishing the guard proper identification, waited monotonously for the computer to display approval, then positively ran through the door. Relief was mere steps away.
The Orgy Room bustled with activity. Monica once equated it to Dante's Infernofire and brimstone included. The smell of freshly spilled jism, the scent of pussy, the cacophony of moans promoted that vision. The special lighting made the highest contribution-its soft luminescence rendered a surreal atmosphere.
Monica submitted to the dreamy disrobing. Hands swooped from the partial darkness, divesting her of her leotard and tights. The palpitations she suffered gradually dissipated. Greg, lean and seductive, dwelled in the center of her brain. She did nothing to eradicate his image. In her secret world, she came to terms with her submerged desire. She embraced, rather than dreaded, it.
A man fucked a woman, side-saddle. Her plump tits entirely occupied his hands. His cock slid smoothly in and out of her cunt. From his improved tempo, Monica anticipated his climax. Kneeling beside him, she slowly removed his dick from that juicy snatch. He throbbed ferociously in her fist, then spurted. His jism splashed onto the woman's inner thighs. She smiled at the amount he emitted. He groaned hoarsely while Monica stroked his sensitive member.
A stunning redhead and a knockout blonde simultaneously devoured each other. The redhead, perched over the blonde's face, rhythmically lowered herself while feasting upon her partner's snatch. Monica shivered at the beauty of their coupling.
A dark-haired man, yanking on his cock, squirted three women thrashing on the floor. He sprinkled their erect nipples with cum. Squealing, they rubbed his spent fluid over their tits.
Of the serviceable creatures, a stud with light brown hair and a mustache arrested her attention. Though noticeably younger and of dissimilar appearance, he nonetheless reminded her of Greg. Roughly of the same build and with detectable arrogance, he emoted the qualities she sought. She mentally excised his contrasting traits in order to consummate her fantasy.
Sitting on a bench, he enjoyed a round of licks between two gorgeous blondes stationed at his feet. They darted along the sides of his tall-standing cock, moistening him from bulb to stem. His jaw fell when one concentrated on his balls.
Monica mentally supplanted him with Greg's face. That illusion drove her. Lust, raging through her system, fueled her pace.
The man visibly yearned for Monica as she arrived on the scene. His blue eyes glistened. He gestured to his equipment, then crooked his finger.
Monica's heartbeat quickened. The thought of having him made her quiver. A jolt of passion assaulted her pussy. She caressed her mound, weaving through the dark pubes. A warm leakage moistened her fingertips.
The blondes, in deference to Monica, moved to the side. They left the man's upright shaft suspended in the air. Monica murmured with approval. It was precisely what she needed.
She swung her leg over and mounted him. She captured that inflated beast and gave it a jerk. It slipped through her clasp, saliva-slick. The girls had licked every obtainable inch from his dick. His tight skin reflected an advanced stage of excitement. She steered that rotund knob to her hole. At the point of insertion, she gasped. His wide cockhead spread her apart. Slowly, she sank onto his lap. That trip to his balls practically curled her toes. She arched her spine, then ground herself to that solid mass.
"Yeah," the man puffed. "Take it in."
Monica moaned from his delicious movement. That thing really massaged her walls. She pressed down, smothering him in wet, hot pussy. Those glassy eyes related his joy. She envisioned Greg's response to her clinging warmth. She wanted to transform that virile countenance into a tormented mask. Lifting and dropping herself onto that cunt-splitting hardness, she maintained that illusion.
His hands sheltered her bucking ass. He tried to control its rhythm, but Monica foiled each attempt. Her pussy swooped over him, gobbling him to the quick. She gave him no opportunity to replenish his air supply-her snatch made a greasy meal of him. Those sopping lips enveloped him to the balls, then rose to the top. Before disgorging themselves of their freight, her pussy lips hungrily reclaimed him.
In and out that cock dove, awakening all cells of her body. Thoughts of Greg nourished her. She gripped the man inside her cunt, squeezing him with every muscle at her command. He groaned loudly at her slick embrace. After a squashing moment, she released him.
At first, she took him at a leisurely pace. His dick climbed slowly through her juicy layers. They soon achieved momentum. He matched her feverish tempo and fucked back. His fingers pressed into her buttocks, dragging her to his thick trunk. Their flesh noisily slapped, interrupted only by her sharp cries.
That hard, swollen thing belonged to Greg, she repeatedly told herself. It pierced her hot, squishy center and nearly depleted her of air. She clenched her teeth and plunged to the very bottom. His dick utilized all habitable space. She gulped him to his taut sac. Only when he gasped for air did she loosen.
The women who previously traded his cock back and forth now shifted their attention to Monica.
A pair of soft lips encompassed her nipple, then became attached. Monica moaned at its thrilling suction. Her tongue orbited that pebble, tickling it along the way. She remained stationed, drawing deeply upon her tender nub.
The other woman resided between the man's legs and trained her wriggling tip over their merged parts. Monica sobbed as it outlined her cunt lips. A sweet shiver passed through her as that tickling sensation mounted. She could tell from the man's flinch that his balls were being lapped. He exhaled harshly through his gritted teeth.
Monica took that pulsing allotment high. Her pussy mouthed that cock for all it could yield. She absorbed that big thing to capacity, pulling relentlessly upon it. He flourished in her greasy vise.
Abandoned to the joy he wrought, Monica reached behind to caress his balls. She encountered that spirited tongue in flight. The woman below them licked her fingers. Monica allowed her to suck her thumb while she stroked his velvet pouch. The man labored beneath her lush ministrations. She pursued the protruding section of him, fondling the veins of his cock.
"Christ," the man muttered in her ear, "I'm about to blow."
His face reddened as she furiously rode him. Clutching his shoulders, Monica broke into a steady gallop. His balls spanked her quivering ass. Nearing a fiery finish, she remained indifferent to those steady smacks.
The woman sucking her tit and the other slurping her snatch did not desert Monica. Their oral gifts continued to the very end.
Monica moaned as the man gushed in her pussy. That rock-solid thing rubbed her susceptible innards, even in the throes of orgasm. She humped that spurting cock. Its frenzied twitch stirred her. The man looked vacantly into space as he emptied himself into her juicy folds. Thrusting hard, he brought her to climax before growing soft.
The woman beneath her cleaned the jism that oozed from her pink rim. The mouth secured to her nipple did not quit sucking for several minutes. The woman obviously savored Monica's lasting vibrations.
CHAPTER FOUR
At the Juice Bar, Diane sipped an ice-cold vegetable cocktail. The bartender had thrown a medley of vegetables into the grinder to produce that rejuvenating beverage. After a good "workout," a personally prepared refreshment really hit the spot. Straight from the Orgy Room, she hit the showers. Erasing all traces of animal sex was part of the ritual. Stopping for her routine drink before leaving was standard practice.
Diane nursed it while reminiscing about her recent foray. Her pussy tingled from all that cock. She slowly crossed her legs and pressed down. Ohhhh. Due to extreme horniness, she exceeded her usual quota. Her hormones had yet to cool.
Diane was conscious of the spectacle she created among the men. Heads craned, jaws swung, eyes typically zeroed in. Naturally sensuous, she had excellent command of her body language. It was read with unmistakable clarity. A simple gesture bought her maximum notice.
Generally, Diane thirsted for male attention. Having fucked herself into a mild state of exhaustion, however, she merely coasted. Returning to The Entrance with an entourage could plainly happen, but the hour grew late. Getting home past midnight meant missing vital sleep. Diane disliked parting with that precious commodity. She fully believed in its regenerative powers.
The Juice Bar was heavily thronged. Floor space was at a minimum. Its congregation was not exclusively comprised of its secret society. Diane was cautious as to whom she flirted with. Those untested were avoided at all cost. Diane had no wish to make allowances for risk now that her exams were up to date. Taking chances translated into a supplementary battery and, therefore, added expense. Her salary as a bank teller, already stretched to the limit, could not comfortably absorb it.
The Club didn't prohibit intimate relations outside of it, but encouraged its members to be honest about their sexual activity. If involved in a high-risk situation, one placed himself under a microscope and was subject to a six-month quarantine. As long as condoms were used, those measures were unnecessary.
Flirting, however, was virtually reliable, as long as it remained superficial. Besides, it nourished her ego to feel desired.
"That looks delicious," a masculine baritone registered from behind. "Mind if I have some?"
In turning, Diane found an attractive older man beside her. Dark brown hair tinged with gray framed a set of rugged features. His lips slid from white teeth to form an intriguing smile. His dark pupils were notably sensual. The top buttons of his sports shirt were undone, revealing a well-defined chest.
"I beg your pardon?" she murmured.
"Your drink. It's mostly vegetable, I presume, with a high vitamin content."
"It most assuredly is." She pushed it forward. "Help yourself."
"Shall I fetch another straw?"
"Suck from mine."
A grin took shape. "You're not afraid of transmitting germs?"
She shook her head. "I've had my fill of it. By all means, finish." Diane wasn't ordinarily generous about surrendering her beloved snack, but the man inexplicably charmed her. She couldn't resist.
"I'm Dave Fairweather," he said after that initial taste.
"I'm Diane Krazinski."
He looked her up and down, then checked her finger. "No husband, boyfriend...significant other?"
Her lips curved. "You're awfully inquisitive. I could be tossing out those kinds of questions, but won't."
"Fair enough."
He slid closer to her. Their thighs touched. She immediately sustained an electric charge. Diane managed to hide her reaction. Her pussy, however, twitched. Dave's nearness brought an onset of moisture. She felt its unmerciful flow.
"Do you come regularly?" he asked after a cozy moment.
"As often as I can," she giggled. "The more, the better."
He laughed right along. "I like your sense of humor."
The men who failed to captivate her availed themselves to other possibilities. There was certainly no shortage of women. The Club attracted an equal mix of the genders.
Diane welcomed that private moment with him. No longer on display, she was free to dazzle him. Dave proved a worthwhile investment. His broad smile immensely satisfied her. His laughter was brisk and suggestive. The eye contact was strong and arousing.
Diane secretly conducted other observations. She noted the span of his hands and size of his thumbs. In her experience, those were relative to one's sexual endowment. She suspected Dave had a big one. A furtive glance at his crotch nearly convinced her.
That surge of lust surprised her. By right, she should have been fatigued from that marathon in the Orgy Room. Her energy levels were hardly depleted. After Dave's calculated thigh-bumping, she enjoyed a startling renewal.
Dave Fairweather appeared to have reservations about furnishing her with personal data. Other than his bachelor status and possession of a Mercedes, he either generalized or evaded her questions. Diane had a vague description of his background.
Recognizing his reluctance to be sincere, Diane gave a distorted version of hers. Dave didn't seem evenly remotely interested in details. He nevertheless made clear his yen to fuck her.
"How about inviting me back to your place for a nightcap?" he whispered. "We can whip up those vegetable wonders-or whatever the hell you call them."
She wrinkled her nose. "I'm afraid it's getting past my bedtime."
"Mine, too-but I won't tell."
Diane, about to succumb to temptation, faltered. Straddling Dave's athletic frame and riding him to heaven seemed a rather delicious idea. The man definitely galvanized her ardor.
As deeply as she savored the opportunity, the cost went beyond her means. Her disposable income after membership dues had nearly shrunk to zero. The tests were a deterrent. "I'll take a raincheck on it."
"Sure you won't think about it?" His legs disengaged to reveal some stout evidence as to his emotional state. Though the lighting at the Juice Bar was intentionally dim, Diane caught the gist of his message. Something large bulged from his groin. "Hmmmm? It could be fun."
She drummed up strength in reserve. "The best things are worth waiting for." With that, she took her leave before he utilized other persuasive tactics.
Diane rushed into her apartment, thoroughly riled. Dave had made her unusually hot. He represented forbidden fruit-someone she wanted but couldn't have. Psychologically, she was conditioned to The Club's selection. In her mind, certified partners were the only procurable choices. Men outside those bounds were stricken from consideration.
Dave could have worn a rubber. They could have taken precautions. That experience wasn't entirely hopeless.
She came to regret her decision. Her brain, dulled by lust, hadn't properly functioned. Too erotically preoccupied, she failed to think things through. Dave might never go to The Club again. Their paths might not conceivably cross in the future. She hadn't a clue whether he made a habit of going or if his decision was made purely on the spur.
Sighing, she stripped off her clothes. Her thermometer, set at a lower degree, kept her apartment pleasantly cool. Her nipples swelled of their own accord, perhaps attributable to Dave. She blamed most of it on the temperature.
She slipped into bed. The sheets were crisp and enticing. Her bare ass wiggled over them. Normally, she slept naked. Diane wanted not the slightest obstruction between her and that refreshing chill. She found she rested better under those conditions.
Descending into that peaceful realm, however, proved impossible. Dave was on her mind, and under her skin. She tossed and turned, genuinely bothered. She longed for those penetrating dark eyes and that toned body. Thoughts of having those muscular arms wrapped around her aggravated that itch. Her pussy constricted as outcome to that need.
She opened the drawer of her night stand. A vibrator awaited her use. Diane rarely used it-not with The Club's convenience. When she did, its benefit was shallow. In light of her physical clamor, she had few options.
She flicked it on. Its faint hum set her heart in motion. As a rule, receiving pleasure hastened her pulse. She slowly lowered it to her breasts. The sweet vibration became Dave's touch. Older men were known to be superior lovers. She based that fact on personal observation and adventures. They fathomed a woman's needs by her evolving response.
She guessed Dave to be forty-four-an age of sexual wisdom. No doubt he was adroit in such matters. Men half his years weren't nearly as sage.
She purred as the tip journeyed to her various zones. Vibrators served a unique purpose when real flesh and blood was unavailable. Ohhhh. She did not hurry to her pussy. Her clit would eventually profit from its luscious action.
Diane closed her eyes and emptied all but a picture of Dave from her mind. Dwelling exclusively on him, she pretended his hands swept over her. His mouth encompassed her distended nipples. He skillfully ran his tongue over each, then applied a wrenching suck. She noted urgency in his shaking pull.
She followed the pink borders of her nipples. Totally rigid, they screamed for Dave's mouth. She traveled around those quivering globes, wandering to each stiff peak. Being stacked, Diane ascended the mountains of flesh, circled those alert nubs, then pressed the oscillating tip to them. Her teeth ground together. Ohhhh. She held Dave's tongue responsible for the uproar.
After spending considerable time on her tits, Diane ventured to her navel. The expedition was fraught with toe-bending gasps. She pressed her head into the pillow during its progress. The vibrator awakened every cell in its path. She couldn't stifle the moans. Highly sensitive in that area, she shivered. Her feet slid back and forth when the vibrator neared that nest of blonde curls. The chilled air expedited stimulation. Goose bumps were rampant.
Diane slowly parted her legs. Trembling, she combed through that wispy forest. She was a breath from her clit. The tickle of excitement rumbled in her groin. Finally, she made contact. Her heels dug into the mattress. She clenched her teeth. Ecstasy bubbled through her loins. Ohhhh. Her pussy moistened from its resonance. The juices that would have lubricated Dave oozed from her cunt.
She writhed under the vibrator's steady assault. Images of Dave, accumulated during their intimate conversation, fueled her passion. She concentrated on the planes of his handsome face while employing that tip. She exhaled roughly after descending into her wet center. Immersing the tip of the vibrator in her snatch, she nearly choked. The pleasure was almost too much to assimilate. Removing it from her tremendously excited cunt, she reinstated the tip on her furious bud.
Her palms whisked over her erect nipples while she stirred her love button into a frenzy. She exhaled sharply from the rush. Whew! Her groin instantly tightened. She craved something hard-preferably long. Latching onto Dave's stiff thing would have remedied the problem. She expected he could reach her sizzling core when completely embedded. She whimpered, aching for the relief-giving thrusts of a real man.
The vibrator sent her to the edge. Her pussy became hot and juicy from its rousing course. She watched it dip into her slick folds, then disappear in her cunt. When the palpitations became dizzying, she receded. Its end glistened with her horny essence.
Diane sobbed and thrashed. She gyrated beneath that exquisite instrument. Her ass bounced and her hips snapped with abandon. Her pulse raced at the sound of her squishiness. She periodically submerged that plastic nose into her pussy, moaning from its activity. Her trembling walls embraced it. She whipped herself into a fever by letting those sensations repeat.
Again, she peered at the phenomenon between her legs. She tremulously watched that tool enter her cunt, then wept from its sweet commotion. Her pussy expanded in taking it. Those damp lips yielded to that push of plastic. Her lips formed a quivering ring as she delved into that liquefied center.
"Do me," she blurted in the heat of passion. "Do me, Dave. Make me cum."
The vibrator, an extension of Dave Fair-weather, granted an added dimension to her gratification. Her clit throbbed frantically beneath its rotation. Drunk with pleasure, she pursued its thrilling charge. The nectar seeped from the depths of her pussy-a torrent precipitated by visions of Dave.
Ecstasy flared through her body. Diane saw it reach a staggering conclusion. Orgasm was swift and depleting. Jerking on the bed, she dropped the vibrator. Her contractions were stronger than normal. She was ill-prepared for their savagery.
"Yes, Dave," she squealed, undulating. "Oh, yes. That felt so good."
After a moment, Diane blinked. Reality converged upon the scene. Her fantasy immediately dissolved.
Dave Fairweather, she thought, she would have him, somehow.
CHAPTER FIVE
Monica Collana discerned a fathomable change in Greg Newton. More at ease, he had developed an appreciable swagger in his walk. His increased confidence, in addition to boldness, seemed directed solely at her.
Monica's initial impression of him was that of an attractive, educated man with an eye for the ladies. He put a spin on that theory. Previously branded a potential scoundrel by the office's female population, he surprised them all with his inattention. He no longer gazed at the various assistants. He ceased engaging them in conversation at the coffee bar or in the hallway. His invitations for drinks and dinner faded.
His remissness did not encompass Monica. He peered at her to the point of creating scandal. She couldn't get too involved in her day without acknowledging his engrossment. The man seemed obsessed with her. Whether it was her dark, Italian looks or Gypsy eyes, she was dubious.
Weeks had passed since his initial visit to The Club. She fretted that he had taken poorly to her sudden disappearance. That wasn't the case. What happened afterward wasn't discussed. He showed up the following evening with his duffel bag, anxious for more. His attendance continued from there on after. Greg refrained from commenting about her subsequent departures, which typically occurred when Monica couldn't handle the sexual tension.
The flirting became heavier. Greg sent steamy messages to her from many of the muscle-building machines. He had a knack for mastering each apparatus, tackling ones the rookies judged too advanced. His body reaped the rewards of regular fitness. Monica noted enhancements to his upper arms, chest, abdomen and thighs.
His metamorphosis, unfortunately, heightened her frustration. It didn't help to see him evolve into a fantasy creature. She stopped viewing his stringing along as an infringement, nor did she regard him an awkward appendage. She wanted him so badly, she ached.
The dialogue between them became more insinuative. His thoughts, which invariably took erotic form, were verbalized. "I like the way that hugs your body," he would whisper when sneaking up on her in the copying room. "That outfit does your ass justice," was another pet phrase. If she donned a blouse with a plunging neckline, she received something along the lines of, "Mmmmm. How nice. More skin."
His remarks didn't offend her. Her pulse jumped, her heart sped. She was careful to mask her response. Admitting that his ideas bore a stimulating effect contradicted her style. She could not, however, dispute that he tested her discipline to the limit.
Greg, she secretly concluded, was a very hot man.
He dispensed with asking her for a date. Discussions about driving together to The Club were similarly dropped. Greg knew where to find her after work. He ogled her voluptuous figure nearly every day of the week.
Monica involuntarily performed for him. She angled her mouth-watering ass to advantage while operating the stair-climber, or threw her tits out when on the treadmill. Both gestures were well-received. Her body language held suggestion. She did nothing to check it.
When her lust neared the boiling point, Monica retreated to the Orgy Room to work off it off. She frequently spent hours to sufficiently cool. Her pussy was tender by the time she emerged.
A cure existed, and Monica was aware of it.
Consenting to a night of unrestrained passion would have remedied the situation. She doubted stipulating his use of a condom would be a hurdle. Greg, she suspected, would have gone to great lengths for the privilege. She simply couldn't reconcile herself to the thought of surrender. Greg was foreign to her universe. He was a voyager, exploring an alien realm. No matter what reasoning she adopted, he did not belong. He was an excursionist, whose time would eventually expire.
In the meantime, she kept things in their perspective. Greg accompanied her for her nightly ritual of exercise and pleasure. That evening began no differently. They went to The Club for their adrenaline fix. Monica always looked forward to it.
They practiced on the machines and trifled with each other well over two hours. In the beginning, Monica couldn't handle the teasing and retired prematurely to the Orgy Room. As her intrigue with him blossomed, she found it difficult to leave. His flagrant desire turned her on. Although her flesh screamed for relief, she started extending her departure. Her endurance didn't last. She invariably succumbed to it.
Greg never broached the subject of her whereabouts. Accepting her absences in stride, he moved onto the next machines. Even later, when they met up, he declined questioning her.
She panted for him in his duds. With his legs thrown apart and his crotch outlined by the thin material of his shorts, she couldn't look away. The T-shirt, soaked with sweat, rippled with definition. He acquired some tantalizing tone. His muscles came alive under a strict regimen. Contemplating all that brawn crushed to her frame left her weak with want.
The pangs of lust would not abate. Monica shivered on the stationary bike. Pressing down on the bar, she bit her bottom lip. Her susceptible mound flatted against the metal. Flames of desire licked at her pussy. Her brain couldn't process another incendiary thought.
Greg remained oblivious. He persisted in yanking down the handgrips with a slight groan. Outperforming himself was his usual aim. His exertions forwarded her agony.
Monica couldn't bear it another minute. That stirring exhibit dispatched her to The Entrance. Her hormones buzzed ferociously. She lost all rationale. Scratching the itch Greg created was imperative.
Just as she reclaimed her identification card from the guard and stepped toward the metal door, his voice stunned her.
"I'm going with you, babe."
Monica, beet-red, whirled around. He winked at her. "But-"
She watched in stunned silence as Greg furnished a similar card. The guard ran it through the machine, retrieved approval and granted him entrance. "It's okay."
Robbed of speech and paralyzed with wonder, she was rooted to her spot. Greg had submitted to the tests. His passage would have otherwise been obstructed. How he learned of The Club's most tantalizing secret dumbfounded her. She had given him no indication. Others, however, might have inducted him based on his consistent attendance. Her solicitation arose from the same circumstances.
Greg's arms surrounded her. She trembled in their fold. He buried his face in her shoulder. His warm breath on her bare skin yielded a flurry of chills. He tongued and nibbled on her ear lobe. Gradually, her apprehension ebbed. The barrier she erected for the last several weeks crumbled. Her worries were officially negated.
"I want you," he whispered, then pressed into her backside. "Can you feel how much?"
She couldn't miss that hard-on. He smothered that engorged section in her crack. The fabric couldn't hide its frantic beat.
"Let's go inside," he muttered.
The floor of the Orgy Room moved with an assortment of arms, legs and buttocks. Greg didn't register surprise at the slew of bodies awaiting their choice. He stroked Monica's curves, continuously reassuring her. His touch afforded her a tonic benefit. Its soothing relief elicited her contented sigh.
Per standard procedure, hands swooped through the darkness to undress them. Monica knew Greg wasn't divesting her of her garments-his hands were in constant motion. He kissed her nape while availing himself of her big tits. Her globes bulged through his fingers. He attempted to contain them. His span made that possible. Her nipples burned in his palms. His thumb and forefinger held one at bay, sampling its rigidity.
Monica whimpered from his electrifying tweak. "Yes. Oh, yes. Do that."
People were embroiled in various stages of hot sex. Monica nourished only a passing imagine in each incident.
A man knelt between a gorgeous redhead's legs, busily feeding her his cock. That furry snatch swallowed him to the balls. While spearing that pussy, his face became increasingly marred. Abruptly, he pulled out and squirted the sum of his excitement on her stomach. Monica watched a downpour of cum eject from that mushroomed head. He massaged his spurting cock, running his fingers up and down the bottom vein. After finishing, he stuck it back in her cunt for more pumping. He needed no recovery period. The woman moaned upon receiving his hard dick.
A spectacular blonde serviced two men at once. One fucked her doggie-style while the other planted himself in her face. Both sported huge cocks and sank them to capacity. The blonde did not look particularly challenged by their size, nor urgency. She simultaneously absorbed them.
Monica spotted a scrumptious pair of buns burdened by an especially thick shaft. The woman writhed against the mats, reflecting bliss while her partner lowered himself into her rectum. His balls repeatedly kissed her ass. At the point of climax, he tore himself from her buttocks. The woman bent herself so that his eruption landed on her poised tongue. She wiped his spent jism over her cheeks and chin.
Greg wasn't the least appalled by the ambiance beyond the metal door. Monica presumed he was briefed about the events that regularly occurred. Even the flagrant lesbianism didn't faze him. His expression remained stable throughout each ordeal.
Monica drank in his nudity. The hands that stripped them receded into the darkness, leaving him without a stitch. Greg's body was everything she dreamed. During the course of their expeditions to The Club, she had seen most of him. Her lips curved in satisfaction during the unraveling of that final mystery. He sprouted a giant. That thing extended from him thick and long. She could scarcely wait until it was inside her.
He recognized her hunger. "You want it, don't you?"
She nodded.
His mouth went over hers. She thrilled at his tongue's exploration. He lightly cupped her buttocks. Locked in his embrace, she grew woozy. She couldn't remember being in such bad shape over a man.
They found a space on the floor, among the sinuous bodies. Greg directed Monica onto her back, then spread her legs. He gasped while studying her pussy. He reflected joy upon seeing it. His warm breath filtered over that nest of dark curls. She tingled strongly in that area.
"I've dreamed about how you'd taste," he murmured. "Now I'll know for sure."
She wasn't prepared for the thrills that followed. His tongue wormed into her snatch. She moaned as it descended, washing her trembling walls. Her juices trickled in profusion. His slurps provoked her. He licked her tender pink flesh, one lash at a time. His whips accelerated her gush of nectar. She streamed into his mouth.
Oh, God, she thought, shaking. He really knew how to eat a woman. There was hesitation in his technique. Orally sophisticated, he had a polished routine.
Her legs trembled around his face. Her fingers became tangled in his hair while guiding him. It was sheer torture watching him sift through the layers of wet cunt. None of it seemed real.
Greg did a splendid job. His tongue dipped into her pussy and probed its juicy center. He rapidly wiggled in and out of it. Monica's head rolled from side to side, her thoughts scattered. He licked her thoroughly, leaving no section unexplored. He siphoned every ounce of nectar clinging to her squishy folds.
At length, he placed total emphasis on her clit. Her luxury intensified. He brushed against her love button with fiery persistence. Her tremors were largely prevalent during his relentless sweep. Securing his mouth, he sucked and throttled that responsive bud.
Monica couldn't lie dormant a second longer. She wanted to simultaneously devour Greg. His mammoth dick gave her an appetite. The thought of making a meal of it had her quivering.
She threw a leg over his face, then sat on it. Ohhhh. Her cunt was in his mouth. His lips fully clamped her. She swiveled her hips, encouraging his tongue. Greg took the hint and fucked her with it. In and out he sliced, penetrating her spongy core. Her vision blurred; when clarity returned, she gazed at his towering shaft. Greg spanned ten inches-an excellent piece of equipment. His balls were enormous. He was almost too much man for her.
Monica had a tremendous affection for cock. Sucking a big one was her favorite diversion. She planted a damp kiss on his bulbous crown. Slowly, she circled the jutting rim. Salt impregnated her taste buds. She took another leisurely slurp.
Stretching a blow job out lick by lick was her specialty. If Greg wasn't so accomplished with his tongue, she might have driven him insane. Humping his face, she was at a disadvantage. Their oral skills were evenly matched.
His fingers slid into her slick groove and pulled it apart. Into her quivering warmth his tip went. Ohhhh. She moaned with his cock in her mouth. He ate her so nicely, she couldn't focus.
Monica massaged him with her fist. Greased by saliva, he slid smoothly through her vise. She discerned his pulsations. His angry coloring denoted his advanced excitement. Her fingers swerved to his pouch. After petting his balls, she noted their dense content. Mmmmm. Greg had-likely been saving it for her.
She covered his cock with sloppy kisses. Her spittle dribbled to his stem. When her bubbly drool cascaded to his pubic nest, she took stock of him. His dick stretched in all its magnificence. He stood ramrod straight, pumped with excitement.
Greg gulped her tangy fluids. She inhaled through clenched teeth during his gratifying wriggle. Her clit was under attack, his assault indescribably sweet. Up and down he darted. His bottom lip exasperated her. She breathlessly settled onto his face. Weathering that delicious bombardment took its toll.
"I'm going to cum," she sobbed. Unable to suck his dick another moment, she arched her spine. Greg's slurping overwhelmed her. He dabbled with patience to the danger point. There was no recourse.
Greg enveloped her trembling buns and dragged them flush to his ravenous expression. He consumed her in huge mouthfuls. Monica's orgasm poured down his throat.
After regaining her senses, she spun around on him and settled on his lap. His dick was like rock. She steered that heavy knob to her soaked cunt. Observant of his flinch, she rotated the cock against her slippery folds. Her dark wisps interfered with his path. Ohhhh. She wanted Greg to feel heat, moisture and hair before her pussy swallowed him. When she went over her clit, she shuddered. She hadn't entirely recovered from his tongue.
"You want to go in there, don't you?" she teased, jerking her hips. His rounded bulb rolled around her drenched middle. Her feathery pubes got in his way.
"Yeah," he groaned. "Put me where I belong."
She completely inserted the head, then pushed down. His cock inched through her snatch. She took him slowly, savoring the initial penetration. Greg slid into her cunt. Moaning, she gave him all the room he required.
"Yes," she whimpered. He smashed his balls to her quaking butt. After relishing the onslaught, he pulled back. His full amount of manhood returned, occupying that trembling passage. She threw her head back, totally exhilarated. Aiming her nipples at the ceiling, she rode out the feeling. Greg's thighs supported her back, preventing her from flying off him. Their prickly texture-likewise stimulated her. She fondled those bushy legs while bearing down on his lap. His whole cock stood in her pussy. "Ohhhh. I've wanted it for so long. Oh, yeah."
He enclosed her tits, then brought the nipples into alignment. Rotating his thumbs, he sent jolts through her system. When they were sufficiently swollen, he stuck them in his mouth. He drew heavily upon them. His suck left her woozy.
Monica humped him slowly, savoring every throbbing bit. Clasping his shoulders, she peered at him. Her tits swung in his face. Her dark eyes flashed. She ran her tongue over her sensual lips. When the excitement became too intense, she veered back and emitted a guttural sob. Up and down his cock she slid. Her reassuring pucker echoed. Her cunt lips repetitiously shrank, then released. She gripped him with all the strength at her command. His dick throbbed in her greasy lock. She pressed down until his balls ballooned at her opening.
Around them, people moaned and gasped. Some watched, others created their own fun. A few contributed to their splendor. Female hands stroked Greg while Monica fucked him. While one woman kissed him, her tongue obviously slithered into his mouth. Another licked the sweat from his temple, and again from his chest.
Monica studied him while she rose and fell. The blue spheres behind his plastic lenses dulled with pleasure. He looked sightless for a moment, then regained clarity of vision. Desire flickered powerfully from his eyes.
He clutched her with those sturdy hands.
They enveloped her ass. Greg roughly dragged her to the bottom of his cock, then yanked her to its tip. Up and down she soared. His balls whacked her each time.
She considered his knitted brow. Greg displayed a feral masculinity when extremely turned on. It was as though she tampered with his emotions until the raging bull tore loose. He fucked her back, savagely and without cease.
From beneath, she felt warm air, then sizzling moisture. Someone licked her from behind. Greg groaned, too. His cock received identical treatment. Ohhhh. Those expert whips magnified her satisfaction.
Greg's features reddened. His back bowed before he dealt her pussy a deep jab. He slid back and forth, producing marvelous friction. High into her pussy he sailed before jerking back. Ohhhh. She loved the attitude behind his thrusts. She felt the animal in his delivery.
"Are you there yet?" he croaked.
Monica anxiously nodded.
He pumped her with all his might. His dick moved heatedly through her cunt. Her clit received some of that sweet abrasion. Juicy noises reverberated when he squeezed himself in her constricted hole.
"Oh, God," Monica said, shutting her eyes. It was more than she could manage. "Ohhhh."
He was making her cum. The tremors which had been building caused her to shake. He fucked her harder and harder, driving her to the summit of ecstasy.
"Christ," he howled in anguish. "Arghh."
He gushed inside her pussy. She felt his squirts and twitch. She contracted around that spurting cock. Her joy was blinding.
The people flanking them were consigned to oblivion. Monica lost track of the tongues and fingers that guided them through their journey. Reality and fantasy became fused.
She was going to remember this night forever.
CHAPTER SIX
Diane Krazinski tried maintaining her cool at the Juice Bar. That effort was far more exacting than she anticipated. Dave Fairweather had thus far pulled a no-show. She tried hiding her disappointment-to no avail. After the other night, she came religiously to order her vegetable drink and waited. Following several nights of non-appearance, she began to suspect he wasn't ever coming back.
A strapping Adonis approached her. "Hey, baby," he mentioned in a deep voice, "can I buy you another one?" He nodded at her untouched glass.
She politely shook her head, then totally discounted his presence. Others had tried their luck with her. Their propositions went unanswered. Diane was disinterested in the relentless parade. That face which became familiar in her thoughts eluded her.
For some inexplicable reason, she avoided the Entrance. Normally, she would have busted her tail getting to the Orgy Room. She felt no such compulsion. Her body needed Dave-a man she met in passing and who lingered in her mind ever since.
Eventually, Diane gave up. Ten o'clock came all too soon. She hopped off the stool, bid the bartender a pleasant evening and departed. The night breeze caressed her. The sounds of traffic served as background.
Another lonely night, she silently summarized. She should have gone to the Orgy Room-or perhaps the Sauna. The press of hot flesh might have diluted her misery. Spreading her legs or opening her mouth would have been an adequate start; neither would have stayed empty for long-not with the Club's horny membership.
Diane had gone that route two nights in a row. Looking back, she realized her mistake. Throughout those sessions, she kept expecting Dave to arrive. Naturally, his virile countenance never surfaced. Needless to say, the sex failed to satisfy her.
Her obsession with the man boggled her. She met all varieties at the Club. None left a lasting impression. After serving their function, she banished them into obscurity.
It was that timeless philosophy, she surmised. A person always wanted someone he or she couldn't have. The lure of the forbidden attracted her. The studs thronging the Orgy Room had passed inspection; Dave hadn't. Her desire for him branched from that viewpoint.
Her car was parked in a remote corner. Pensive, she strode to that end. Many other vehicles crowded the lot. Activities were in full swing-none wanted to miss the fun. The Club was a popular meeting place for singles, whether or not they enjoyed extraneous benefits.
Her red Chevy swam into view. She fished for her keys. Before she could get inside, a hand clamped her shoulder. Diane let out a small whimper. Footsteps hadn't sounded from behind to signal her assailant's proximity. Unable to scream, she froze in terror. The purse was not torn from her arm. A man's breath heated her ear. Her fear gradually subsided. She shivered as his other hand traced the contours of her body.
Initially, she wondered if someone followed her outside for a passion play. Diane wasn't entirely averse to spontaneity under the right circumstances. In whirling around, however, she saw Dave.
"Where have you-"
He silenced her with his finger. It lightly pressed against her lips. Trembling, she let out her tongue and licked it. His skin had been freshly showered. She wiggled up and down that digit, pretending it was his cock. He warmly exhaled over her neck and down her blouse. She tingled from his breath.
Dave dragged her close to him. She perceived his hungry vibrations. The man was horny beyond compare. His need for her was emphatic. The grip of his hand confirmed that.
He maneuvered his thumb into her mouth. Diane began sucking it. Thumbs, in her book, were more of a phallic symbol. She used both her hands to hold him while displaying her oral proficiency. Everything about Dave seemed incredibly appealing.
After several tormenting minutes, Dave pulled open her door. "Get inside," he hoarsely instructed.
They tumbled into her back seat. Diane felt like a passionate college girl, savoring the novelty of flesh. It was far more exciting than her first time. The risk of being with someone outside the Club's antiseptic boundaries drove her wild.
In a tangle of limbs, they kissed passionately. Lips and tongue were noisily devoured. Dave snuck a hand between Diane's legs and squeezed. She moaned as his thumb sank into her mound.
He effortlessly opened her blouse. Her tits leaped from confinement. He visually drank in their luscious proportion. "They're beautiful," he muttered.
Her nipples burned against his palms. Those nubs pleaded for his foamy saliva. He stuffed one in his mouth. He fondled the other with the thumb she had sucked.
"Oh, God," Diane whispered as he circuitously administered her spit. "Ohhhh."
Dave's rugged expression went in and out of focus. Those brown pupils smoldered with lust. She ran her fingers through his dark hair, fringed with gray. Although fifteen years her senior, he tremendously aroused her.
He took his spittle-coated thumb and steered it into her shorts. She seized his wrist before he got any further. "Protection," she remembered aloud. "Do have you some?"
Without speaking, he produced a condom from his back pocket. He regarded her with a feral mien, then settled comfortably in the seat. Throwing his legs apart, he gestured to the swollen shape of his crotch.
Diane took the prophylactic from him. She recognized the popular extra-sensitive brand. He would feel her through that thin but dependable sheath.
She unzipped his fly. Dave, to her utter delight, wore no underwear. She instantly touched skin. He was massive. She skimmed his cock's vein-riddled length, then steered him through the opening. His dick throbbed in her fist, a beast of the first order.
Dave elevated himself. His cock inched through her grasp. His repeated lunge was suggestive of fucking. His clenched fists and red face signified advanced excitement. She didn't want him exploding before the fun started.
The rubber smoothly encased him. The veins bulged through the stretched latex. Diane folded the edge so that some of him protruded. She wanted the lower portion of him to brush against her during sex.
Dave's ten inches were fully captured. Her lips curved as she studied that trapped creature. Bending her head, she gave his balls an expansive lick. It was the only part of him she dared taste without coverage. Hair and skin passed under her tongue. Mmmmm. She loved their salt.
"Jesus," she heard Dave's faint gasp.
The air within her car grew thin. Steam fogged the windows. Diane, giddy with desire, functioned on minimum oxygen.
While she slurped him, Dave removed her shorts. His breath warmed her buns. He pulled the cheeks apart and sampled the liquid sugar that clung to her folds. Diane became dazed from the snack he made of it.
She absorbed his shielded cock. Although she would have preferred his manly flavor, she was grateful for that protective layer. She pumped him with her lips, discerning his spark. A frantic beat answered her titillating embrace.
Meanwhile, Dave probed her pussy for traces of nectar. Hooking his tongue, he scooped the saccharine leakage. He purposely dwelled neared her clit, stirring her into a frenzy. Each nudge promoted a ticklish flurry.
Besieged by lust, they moved with expedition. Diane assumed the doggie-position. She waved her ass in his face, urging him to take her.
"Yeah," he muttered, getting behind that curvaceous rump. "I want to watch you swallow every bit of it."
Diane sobbed as he inserted that plump knob into her cunt. She pushed back, unable to curb the impulse. More of that solid monster entered her pulsing constriction. Her cunt lips went over it, sucking him to its heart. His large hands secured her waist and dragged her to the rear. She could feel where the rubber ended and true skin began. Ohhhh. There was so much of him to fuck. She continued back until he smashed his balls to her ass.
"You've got the whole thing, baby," he gasped. "The whole fucking thing."
He was entrenched in moist pulp. Diane savored the moment. That cunt-splitting monster occupied her most intimate spot. She moaned from the tension.
Dave's knees dug into the upholstery. He leaned forward, cupping her tits. He kneaded them while pumping that juicy snatch. He pinched her nipples. His forefinger and thumb tormented each stiff peak with its tweak and caress.
She cried out as he twisted them. His zealous act did not pain her. Her body was very receptive, her sensitiveness heightened. Those twists counterbalanced that sweet plunging sensation.
Dave surrounded her tremulous frame. His chest molded her spine. He began sawing through those slick cunt lips, one thrust at a time. The skin of his dick accumulated within its sheath at her trembling inlet. He pushed, sinking entirely into that tight snatch. She took that hard mass with a prolonged gasp. Back and forth he hauled her body, instigating a fire.
"Do whatever you want to me," she moaned, hurling herself back at that thick cock. Air wheezed through her teeth as he speared through her. "I'm yours, Dave. Totally and without condition."
Releasing her tit, he traced her jawbone. An electric current passed through her. She sobbed from the voltage. He sought her mouth. Diane surrendered her lips, allowing him to devour them. Dave, however, was completely gentle.
Although he crammed that thing into her, the rest of him reflected tenderness. He stroked and kissed her with obvious affection.
The sound of her pussy noisily receiving his cock turned her on. She loved its juicy feedback. Her thirst for the man simmered from her molten depths.
When fitting himself to the balls, she felt that exposed section of him. She shivered as they rubbed skin. Ohhhh. She loved the friction.
Reaching between her legs, she skimmed that hard section embedded in her snatch and his balls. Her fingers smoothed over the rubber, distinguishing its fold, then the real part of Dave. His sac was taut, pressed to her sopping entrance. He tunneled into her pussy, feeding it all she could take. His wide bottom ground against her drenched rim.
Dave burrowed far into her pussy. Diane, shaking, clutched the door handle. She took the sum of his manhood with each thrust. He stroked her innards to jelly. The commotion he engendered was so startling, she climaxed. Orgasm came promptly, vigorously. There was no way of preparing herself for its magnitude. Waves of splendor subdued her.
Dave waited until after the storm diminished. Frozen, he protruded from her cunt. "I need to see you while we're doing it."
Diane sobbed as he dislodged himself. That cock had fully opened her. Feeling it leave disturbed her.
Dave helped turn her around. Given the limited space afforded by her back seat, their coupling was awkward. Diane was determined to make the most of it. A perceptible weakness claimed her. Lust, rampant in her system, dulled her motor skills.
Dave's virile countenance shimmered before her. The neon signpost prominently displayed on the Club's facade provided sufficient illumination. She clasped his face, running her fingers over its scrubbed planes. He was easily the sexiest older man in existence.
He grinned, then lifted her legs and set them on his broad shoulders. His knees sank into the upholstery. Diane experienced a surge of giddiness during that adjustment.
His dick stretched forward, encased in latex. He was slick from their brief connection. She moaned, craving the heat of his uncovered skin.
"You're gorgeous," he remarked.
She wanted to relate her feelings as well, but instead felt his bulb press into her entrance. That blunt tip descended into her soaked crevice. Her lips formed a quivering circle. She gasped as that huge cock disappeared in her snatch.
Dave watched to the best of his ability before the ecstasy of it caught up with him. He slid forward, burying himself to the hilt.
"Oh, my God," she moaned, writhing against the seat. Receiving him whole took the breath from her. That heavy shaft drove her to full expansion. He brushed her clit during his eye-popping slope. She gritted her teeth as he commenced pumping.
Dave fondled her erect nipples while fucking her. His large palms rotated over her swollen nubs, igniting an inferno. He groped her tits, almost crushing them. Her enlarged stubs pulsated between his thumb and forefinger. He seemed to appreciate the contrast of soft and hard.
Diane raked his muscular arms with her nails. She cried out as he rammed into her again and again, apparently fueled by urgency. Pleasure streamed to her every pore. Her spongy pussy walls yielded to his stabbing cock.
"Fuck me," she commanded, undulating. "Fuck me hard. I want it rough. Oh, yeah. That's what I need."
Dave complied. He completely immersed himself, leaving nothing outside except his balls. They thudded against her flesh, punctuating each thrust. He held nothing back. His cock hair brushed her during those animate strokes. Their nests mingled, then separated.
The moist slapping of flesh reverberated. Diane whimpered as he made his way down. The walls of her pussy burned from his furious massage. He drove into her boiling middle, packing it.
He analyzed her with those dark spheres. The intensity of his expression aroused her. He liked the way she responded to him-without hesitation, without design. Her reaction was spontaneously based. She gave herself over to him, surrendering to that hard, male authority.
"I can't take my eyes off you," he croaked. He fucked her with all the strength he commanded. "You're a knockout-a real babe. Oh, yeah. I love the thought of being in your pussy. I enjoy watching you-oh, Christ. I can't talk. Can't think. Everything is working by itself." His features screwed up. His breathing became labored. "Are you ready, baby? I'm about to blow."
Diane feverishly squirmed. "Show me. Please. I need to see."
Dave, turning red, pumped her fast. Diane enjoyed a swift orgasm, unable to control herself. He had driven her over the edge, into paradise. She tightened around him, shaking and spasming.
After hammering into her unresisting flesh, Dave yanked his cock. The tip of his rubber inflated from the torrent of cum. He squirted heavily into that compartment, causing it to balloon.
"Ughhh," he howled, throwing back his head. "Oh, yeah."
Diane, shuddering, merely purred at that incredibly sexy man.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Monica Collana examined Greg Newton from her desk. That man turned her heart into a trip-hammer. Many things about him were judged intensely sexual: his manner of walk, dress and speech. Even the movement of his mouth brought a hot trickle from her pussy. She stole glances whenever possible and without betraying her compulsion.
She had a crystal clear picture of him at the trading desk across the room. Her cubicle was in direct line. Maneuvering her seat, she saw him hustle. Monitoring him ripened into an addiction. At the moment, he wrote trade tickets while on the phone. From the looks of it, Greg's day had been both productive and profitable. She waited an interminable length for him to complete the transactions. Greg finally displayed external signs of winding down his conversation and disconnecting the call. After a count of five, she dialed his extension.
"I thought you'd like to know that my panties are sopping wet," she purred into the receiver.
He refrained from glancing in her direction. Strong eye contact was verboten. Greg exercised incredible discipline. A small smile took shape. "Oh?"
She quietly poured sexual chills into the receiver. "My pussy is tingling. It wants you-badly."
Maintaining a professional veneer, he said, "Something ought to be done about it." She giggled. "You've got that right."
"Are we still on for five."
"Need you ask?"
Daily, they journeyed to the Club. Neither wanted to miss a single day of erotic wish fulfillment. First, they worked out. Exercise was a vital part of the scenario. Monica tantalized him from her machine while he did the same. It was a unique brand of foreplay-a slow buildup that culminated in unbridled passion. Monica's tits virtually swelled within her leotard while she panted for him. She sent him steamy messages, while suggestively riding the stationary bike, or deliberately slowing when on the stair-climber. He returned the sentiment from the bench press or treadmill.
By the time they arrived at the Orgy Room, those disrobing hands couldn't strip them fast enough. They came together like two violent forces, unleashing a maelstrom of desire.
They explored all phases of the Club, well beyond the Orgy Room. There was the Tropical Oasis, which was an atrium of botanical splendor. Couples rendezvoused amid the exotic flowers, rare plants and the like. The Sauna provided a lush vapor screen that camouflaged the steamy actions of horny members. The Club even provided a Western setting, replete with Saloon, for erotic purposes.
They discussed venturing into the Maze. Monica had gone there with some frequency in the past, but Greg, a novice, had yet to experience it. Its passageways were minimally lighted and artificially misted. People loitered its dim corridors, groping passersby. One entered the Maze psychologically prepared for such an ordeal. If the gratuitous fondling was enjoyed, a sexual situation could develop; if not he or she was free to explore the numerous ducts.
Monica's sole gripe about the Maze was not being able to distinguish those who touched her. Between the manufactured fog and the dimness, faces were obscured. Expanding upon that thought, she wasn't keen, at this delicate stage of their relationship, for Greg to be fondled by other women. Unfortunately, once one entered that shadowy realm of the Club, he or she categorically consented to such handling. The members of that secret circle became, in effect, community property.
Monica wasn't verbal about her opposition-she silently frowned at it. She learned to squelch her displeasure and went with the program. Generally, she and Greg fucked among the tangle of limbs. Submitting to the dance of fingers and tongues while attached was common practice. They unconsciously invited others to join during their feverish coupling. Upon occasion, women spirited Greg away, as was she by lusting men. Seeing Greg's cock go into another mouth or pussy, however, tormented her. She sustained a twinge of jealousy. As his initiator, she became territorial over him.
Monica scrutinized Greg's transition since his orientation with her private group. She looked for negative symptoms, such as eccentric behavior, impulsiveness or effrontery. The fantasy world of the Club tended to spill over into one's everyday life. Managing a double existence occasionally spawned a peculiar reaction. Greg neither distanced himself from his coworkers, nor-ingratiated himself with them. As far as she could tell, he passed inspection. Greg apparently possessed the gumption to make a transparent change.
She loved seeing the animal side of him. In the Orgy Room, he discarded his professional guise and adopted an inextinguishable wild-ness. Greg could go and go, as though fueled by sex. He exploded in her pussy and kept fucking. She would never have painted him the satyr, but Greg Newton made her a believer.
Mmmmm. She wanted exclusive rights to him. Her avarice shocked her. Weeks ago, Monica wanted commitments from no one. Greg's pursuit of her had been avoided at all cost. The tables had been unimaginably turned on her. She panted at the very sight of him. The man threw her hormones into overdrive. She couldn't get enough, despite their frequent sessions.
Her thoughts reverted to the present. She had lapsed into silence. The sound of his breathing invigorated her. She loved its variation when they fucked. Seeing his intense expression while seized by those powerful hands thoroughly inflamed her.
"I'll stop by before we leave," he promised.
"Hey, let's go together...in your car."
He paused. "Do you mean it?"
"Sure." It was a big step. Greg had prevailed upon her to ride with him, but she invariably declined. Monica clung tenaciously to her freedom. Traveling together was her last holdout. The idea of sitting in close quarters with that appetizing man made her quiver.
Greg tossed their bags in his trunk and hopped into the car. Monica deliberately refrained from buckling. By the end of the day, she was so lust-crazed, she couldn't sit still. Greg physically disturbed her.
He noted her unfastened belt. "Don't you believe in safety?"
Her gaze did not waver. "How can I possibly suck you while restrained?"
He glanced around before replying. Her conduct was clearly out of line. "You can't blow me in our parking lot. People from the office will see."
"They need not look."
He swallowed roughly. His blue pupils flickered behind his lenses. "Jesus, Monica, what's gotten into you? I thought that kind of action happened solely at the Club."
She stroked his thigh. Every second of heated communication, she was alert to his crotch. "Would you be terribly disappointed if we missed going this evening?"
He watched the path of her slender hand. His breathing deepened. "I suppose I could deal with it."
Her bosom rose and fell. "I want to do things to you that are impossible there. My apartment is far more suitable for such experimentation."
"I couldn't begin to imagine," he croaked, reacting to the electrical stream.
"Don't imagine," she whispered, outlining his equipment with her fingernail. Greg sported a delicious hard-on. "Let me illustrate the possibilities."
Greg sat up in her king-sized bed, propped by his elbows. Monica knelt between his legs, wrapping a string of pearls around his stiff cock. He tensed beneath her capricious swirls. She caught the white of his teeth, as well as a choked gasp.
He scanned her lush nudity, fanned out singly for his benefit. Monica thrived upon his raw expression. He intently analyzed her savory curves. From their prolonged study, she could tell he liked what he saw.
"Isn't this nicer?" she whispered. Upon entering her apartment, she quickly extinguished the lights. They found their way to her bedroom while groping each other. Their clothes hastily came off. They tumbled into bed. "Nobody to intrude upon our privacy. We can do whatever we want to each other without the interference of someone's hand or tongue."
A moonbeam lit up her bedroom. He had swelled to his zenith, the skin stretched taut around his cock. Greg looked tortured as she wound her pearls about his tall shaft. She had donned them specifically for his titillation. The extensive strand served a unique purpose. He relished their employment.
She roped his cock, then tediously dragged them up its side. When she reached the top, she took him and the pearls into her mouth. He groaned. Her delicate licks made him ragged.
"Christ, that feels good," he muttered. His thighs encircled her face. He watched that tip rapidly climb his dick, distribute a trail of foam, then dive to his balls. His pouch stuck to her wriggling tongue. She lashed that sensitive area until his head slammed into the pillow. The pressure from the strand increased and lessened. Monica's brown spheres were rooted to his gasping expression. After her red lips parted, she tediously snaked over him. She distributed bubbly saliva over the vein that ran the length of his cock. Her mouth recaptured the domed head and bestowed him an exhilarating suck. Her lips twisted and her tongue came alive. He was whipped senselessly. Ahhhh.
Monica's fist scaled slippery bone. Up and down she went while sucking his bulb. Greg's abdomen trembled as she drew upon him. She increased her mouthfuls to maximize his pleasure. Her fist stayed busy, massaging that extensive piece of manhood.
"Stroke me," he muttered, delirious. "Suck me."
Her lips prevailed upon that monstrosity, descending him until they met his wiry nest. Greg groaned as she swallowed his cock. He throbbed in her scalding vacuum. After adjusting to it, she withdrew. His ten inches reappeared, shiny with spit.
"Jesus," he gasped, dizzy from her deep-throating. "That was incredible."
She resumed her licking frenzy. Manipulating him with both fist and tongue, she heightened his pleasure. Pinning down his cock and clamping her lips, she sucked his sides. His balls were given a bubble bath. Foam adhered to his skin. Her fingers coiled about that pulsating shaft, jerking him to ecstasy. Her yanking accelerated with his breathing. He sounded convulsive, then reclaimed his staying power.
"Whew," he remarked, "you're one horny babe tonight, aren't you?"
Monica's lips swooped over his heavy knob. She sucked him in earnest, with the intention of getting him off. She tasted his salty maleness with each pull.
He watched his dick disappear in that moist ring. Her lips shrank around him, then her tongue recommenced its torture. His fists clenched as her sucking intensified. He thought he was going to shoot his load into that tantalizing mouth.
Gathering his wits, he took command. Greg cupped the back of Monica's head and swung his leg around it. She moaned while rolling onto her back. Her large tits bounced during repositioning, the nipples fully distended. Blowing him had agitated her.
Monica caressed the prickly thighs that surrounded her face. She adored Greg's masculine textures. That dick jutted in her face. Letting out her tongue, she grazed its rotund head. It stood straight, charged with excitement.
He regarded the two mountains of flesh that rippled. "I'm going to fuck those tits."
Monica shook as he installed himself in her cleavage. That turgid shaft filled her groove. She wrapped him in her billowy warmth, condensing that space with her hands. Back and forth he lumbered. Her skin conflicted with his. She felt him bunch, then slide through that heavenly pathway. He delivered his cockhead to her waiting lips. Again, she lavished him with tingling saliva.
"Yeah," he huskily said, savoring her satin touch. "Rub me with them."
Monica sobbed as he dragged himself through that tight passage. She was highly receptive to that palpitating monster, along with his trail of pubes and balls. He encountered her wiggling tip with repetition, seeking its licks before retreating.
"I love the way you do me," he whispered. "Oh, yeah. More. Don't stop."
When her consistently pleasing slurps overwhelmed him, he left that velvet envelope and steered himself to her mouth. Shuddering, he lowered his long cock into her face. She consumed him in one continuous gulp. His chin went up as that moist heat engulfed him. He almost couldn't handle the luxury her slippery vise gave.
"You really love to suck that thing, huh? Oh yeah. Far as you can go, baby," he said, descending her throat. "Right to the balls, if possible."
He encountered no resistance. Her mouth yielded to his urgent push. His dick vanished in that wet receptacle. Those trembling lips met his sac. He let out a howl of joy. Her strong, riveting suck came through.
"You're the best," he said, pumping her mouth. He loved her fluent weave. Those lips fiercely looped his cock. "I never had it so good. Oh, yeah. Suck it. Swallow me. Take me whole. Fuck me with your mouth."
Monica obeyed. Her lips took him at a brisk pace, expanding her mouthfuls. His cock soon became hard to grasp. Her drenching onslaught left him saturated.
Greg detached himself from those sucking lips. "I've got to have you-now."
Without further ado, he aligned himself with her pussy and sank into its gripping warmth. Monica cried out at its fast introduction. Greg was of ample girth. Absorbing him was always eventful. She gritted her teeth as that monster stretched her pussy. It always looked too big, yet he made it fit.
Greg groaned as that tight pussy swallowed him to the base. His balls thumped against her inner thighs. He seized her ankles and separated those gorgeous legs. Into that cunt he plunged. He savored its heavenly shrinkage. His dick slid into that juicy crack. Brown fur lined her pink patch. He basked in that slick hollow, slowly fucking it.
His hands dropped down to her thighs. Gravity snared him. He dragged that sexy body to him, ramming himself to the root. Her sobs escalated. Grinning, he pelted her with his groin.
"I want you to feel how stiff you got it," he said, spearing that gelatinous pulp. "Oh, yeah. That's what your mouth did. It's like rock."
"Ohhhh."
She gladly took all he had. He stuffed that quivering snatch, feeding it meat. The silken pucker of those cunt lips forwarded his gasps.
She delighted him with her muscular control.
Monica knew how to expedite a man's orgasm. She willed her pussy into compliance. She watched Greg's ecstasy take shape. His blue eyes burned a hole through her skin. His mouth went slack, then curved with pleasure. His coherence was restored after several pelting moments.
Monica frantically launched herself at him. His dick plowed into slick pulp. The tension she exerted supplied him immense satisfaction. She rubbed Greg with pussy from stem to stub. Her muscles knotted about his throbbing mass. His jaw swung as her binding intensified.
Greg lowered her deserted pearls between them. They collected around his moving cock and her gulping snatch. In smashing himself to her furry mound, he wedged them. Monica whimpered as they pressed into her trembling flesh.
The room echoed with the din of penetrated cunt. Monica's pussy noisily surrendered to Greg's ongoing push. Their fractured breathing overrode those sounds.
Monica caressed his abdominals while Greg focused on each thrust. She liked their definition. She swept over his chest, fondling its athletic profile. The Club provided for some striking improvements. Greg looked really good. Was she the only woman alert to his physical betterment?
"Oh, yeah," he groaned, slamming into her hot squish. "Take it. Squeeze it, baby. Hide me in there. Ahhhh. Give that thing pussy love."
She twisted herself to his solid base. Containing that huge cock tremendously pleased her. She sucked him into her juicy snatch inch by inch. He disappeared in her cunt, then reemerged wet. She took him slowly, letting him fill that soaked cavity. Ohhhh. He drove that brute to the bottom. Her toes kinked while fully embedding himself.
"Fuck me," Monica whispered. "All the way. Nice and smooth."
She dropped her hands to her pussy and pulled back its quivering folds. Her clit bulged through the pink layers. Without haste, she fingered it. Rapture streamed through her body. The combination of Greg and her digit fused her joy. She jiggled her love button while he ceaselessly crammed himself into her narrow space.
Greg exhaled sharply through closed teeth. Monica tightened around him. That pussy grabbed him, its clasp unrelenting. He watched those slender fingers manipulate her salmon-colored flesh. She bit her bottom lip and undulated. Her dark eyes sparkled.
He tossed the pearls aside and pumped her with all his might. Getting her off became his mission. Those cunt lips gave their sloppy kiss.
A weakness engulfed his loins. Shooting into that snatch dogged him. He could feel the sweet culmination of his thrusts.
Monica's finger went faster. Cumming with that dick buried to the hilt propelled her. She peered into his blue spheres while cresting. He left imprints on her trembling flesh.
Greg howled as he creamed in her pussy. Monica only half-listened. The blood pounding in her ears and the turbulence that raged through her system preoccupied her. Her orgasm was so violent, she went on shuddering even after he pulled out.
Greg collapsed over her upon ridding himself of that burden. Most his strength had been expended.
"Wasn't that good?" she mentioned after regaining her presence of thought. She combed through the forest on his chest.
He pondered it. "Sure. But tomorrow...let's go to the Club."
His response prompted uneasiness on her part. "Why? We have more privacy here."
He shrugged. "I supposed I've gotten used to it. We've gone every day. It's become habit-forming."
Her spirit dimmed. "Oh."
He seemed oblivious to her disenchantment. His brain whirred with the Club's myriad possibilities. "Can we try the Maze? I'd love to see what it's all about."
"The Maze?" she repeated.
"Let's do it." He kissed her passionately. The press of his lips erased her disappointment. "Okay?"
Monica was too numb to decline.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The Maze, an awesome network of mystical corridors, lay ahead. Monica had visited it upon occasion, but never with a partner. Greg seemed a little too anxious to explore its arteries. The basis for his enthusiasm was held in check.
Both stood at its entrance without a stitch of clothing. As with all diversions at the Club, one traversed the Maze completely nude.
Monica explained the rules: navigate the tortuous corridors to arrive at the exit. Inside lurked people hidden in dark corners, plotting an erotic situation with each wanderer. These were the same athletic figures found throughout the Club, expressly recruited for fantasy fulfillment. Some only toyed with a libido; others were determined to finish what was started. The quality and length of each session was ultimately at the passerby's option.
Monica, masking her dislike of the situation but determined to cater to Greg's whim, went first. She much preferred having him all to herself. Greg tirelessly sought her agreement. She eventually capitulated.
Its tall walls flanked her. Muted light filtered into strategically placed spots. The pathways were fogged. The Club piped the vapor of hot ice to achieve a mystical effect. Abstract lighting was utilized to lend a surreal dimension. One could not see the agents of pleasure hiding in its colorful, whirling smokescreen.
"You're certain you want to do this?" she whispered. "Once you've turned the corner, you must proceed to its end. There's no backing out. Its course can be confusing. You could be in there for hours."
He grinned. "You sound frightened."
Not of what would become of her within The Maze's intestines, she surmised. Monica thought jealousy was inapplicable to herself, yet nonetheless became reconciled to it. She intended to keep tabs on him throughout their journey.
"Very well." She led him in, recalling the initial direction. The Club periodically restructured the Maze to renew its challenge. She carefully negotiated each fork, deciding which route was best.
Greg was appreciative of his surroundings. He enjoyed everything the Club had to offer. Monica had yet to encounter an attraction he deemed blase.
Bodies sprang from the haze. Monica anticipated the casual grope, the gratuitous flicker. Fingers skimmed her nipples. A tongue wiggled toward her. Someone's warm breath fanned her bare backside. All were equally stimulating.
Greg received his share of attention. Women approached him from the thick mist. He groaned at one's feathery caress. Another dragged her nipples across his chest. A third licked his cock.
Monica did not have exclusive right to Greg. If those women wanted him, by the Club's ordinance, they were entitled. Naturally, Greg encouraged them. His hands captured a pair of swiveling buns.
Without warning, a buxom redhead materialized from the cloudy vortex. She heatedly embraced Monica, smashing into her mound. Their mounds were flush, with face to face squishiness. Her coppery pubes meshed with Monica's, affording each a thrill. The kiss of her pussy triggered a shower of sparks. Her spongy center had a riveting pucker. Their tender flesh rubbed.
"Oh, God," Monica sobbed, subject to erotic bliss. Her spontaneity aroused her to the quick. She rubbed back, enjoying the friction.
The redhead vigorously squeezed her. She cupped Monica's tush and pulled her nearer. Her teeth gently closed over Monica's lips, raking them. Her tongue snaked into Monica's mouth, exploring its depths. At length, Monica responded. "Ohhhh."
Greg was temporarily forgotten. Monica forced herself to concentrate on her red-headed partner. Initially, she succeeded. She blocked the disturbing images of Greg ensconced with a bevy of babes. She last recollected him growing in someone's mouth. The skilled lips of some busty blonde enlarged him.
The redhead's cunt lips peeled back. Monica's had already blossomed. Their clits touched. Energetically, she rubbed herself to that luscious pebble. They were on the same shivering frequency, aligning their love buds. Swift back-and-forth movement escalated their pulsations.
Moaning, Monica suction-cupped herself to the woman. She breathlessly reciprocated from the other side. They moaned, feverishly grinding snatch. Her slippery flesh offered enormous stimulation.
The redhead swallowed Monica's tongue. They proceeded in an intoxicated daze. That hot, ruffling traction made them woozy. Monica's clit burned against that sweet irritation. Her lips formed a circle from which slurred syllables poured.
"Oh, yeah," the redhead prompted, slapping her with wet cunt. "Ohhhh."
Monica spasmed with their pussies stuck together. Orgasm rattled her frame. The adhesion brought them to a satisfying conclusion. The redhead came just as furiously, gasping as they slapped groins. Monica watched until her vision clouded, then heard and felt her jolting climax.
While coming out of her delirium, Monica saw a gorgeous brunette with a cock in her mouth. She witnessed the woman's voracious consumption. Those lips took that thing into a mouth-watering pucker, then made it vanish. Rather that grab him with her lips, she gradually absorbed it.
The redhead receded into the smoke. Monica continued her stroll. She was afraid to look behind, yet did. She followed the gobbling lips of that blonde. Greg disappeared beneath her steady gulp.
Ahead, a brunette was getting eaten by a fair-haired guy. His mouth came down on her pussy, separating its spongy folds. He cleaned the torrent of juice that rose to the top. One slurp followed another.
A voluptuous blonde, plastered to the wall, cried out. A man sank into her ass. Monica watched his dick drill into her crack. His balls settled against her writhing rump. The blonde, purring, clawed the wall. Anal penetration appeared to be exactly what she craved.
Monica felt the heat of someone's lust. A rugged blond stud clasped her shoulders, silently ordered her on her knees, then reached for her face with his groin. Monica knew, from his raw vibrations, that he wanted her to suck him.
She leaned into the space between his legs, thrusting her tits. They brushed the insides of his thighs intentionally. Monica sighed as her soft, billowy flesh grazed his hard sinew. The bristle of hair made her nipples stiff upon contact. There was no way of shielding them; they jutted at him.
The blond put his hand on top of her head, then applied pressure. He ached for those full, lazy licks Monica was sure to give. She took him in a tight, hot suck. Her lips streamed over his impressive span.
"Yes," a redhead declared as Greg sucked her nipple. His erect shaft stretched through her fist. She massaged him while he mouthed that swollen nugget.
The blonde slurped his cock. She appeared to be in erotic bliss, sampling its flavor. His balls were given a bubbly coat.
Monica returned her attention to the hunk in her mouth. His muscular abdomen moved forward, adding to her intake. Her tongue wiggled beneath his cock. He introduced more with each lunge. Her lips took him fluently and without hesitation. Having that hard thing fucking her mouth pleased Monica.
"Sure feels like you know what you're doing," he muttered from above. After a minute, his head flung back and he emitted a guttural cry. "Oh, yeah. Use your tongue. Keep it stiff."
Monica smothered him with her lips. He baked in her oral warmth. She brutally flicked at his cumhole. It separated, then ejected a drop of his cream. The blond took a deep breath, preparing himself for a long, vicious suck.
"Lick it," he grunted. "Kiss it."
"Mmmmmm."
"Take more into your mouth."
Monica was about to silence his demands with a few more teasing licks, but he would not have his command ignored. He clamped her head. Monica let him fill her throat. The bloated crown hit her roof, pulsating madly, then sought inhabitable space. She downed him in hungry mouthfuls.
"Eat it," he gasped. "Yeah. Drain me, baby. Suck me dry."
"Yeah," Monica heard Greg say, "suck my dick. Suck that brute. Suck me hard and deep.
Make it big with your mouth. Feel how solid it is. Pump it with your lips. Stroke the skin of my cock. Lick it some more. Ahhhh. I'm throbbing in your mouth, baby. Feel those vibrations?"
Monica couldn't see, but envisioned him throwing back his head, blithely subdued. She meticulously licked the blond, paying him no notice. At one time, such an occurrence wouldn't have raised her brow. If only she hadn't gotten personally involved with the man. Sex at the Club was a routine function that bore no impact on her conscience. Codependency was unwarranted.
Greg's verbal bliss eventually crushed her self-discipline. She looked through the artificial smoke to see that stacked blonde at work. Greg, leaning against a wall, had his legs thrown apart. Her hair brushed his midsection. Monica couldn't see what she was doing until Greg's hand swept back that lustrous fall of blonde hair and revealed her very full mouth. Pushing himself into her steady gobble, he gasped. His lengthy member disappeared in her face.
Monica, attempting to disguise her inner pain, delighted the blond with her mouth. She sucked his cock until stealing his breath. She caressed his pulsing man flesh with her lips. Judging from his glowing expression and trembling body, she did an excellent job.
The blond watched as it went into her mouth-her tongue flickering at his knob-then shuddered as Monica exhaled softly over his well-sucked cock. She used plenty of saliva on him, oozing with want.
Her hand drifted to the blonde's thigh. Monica caressed his hair-dusted flesh in slow, emphatic swirls. She felt his tremors beneath fabulous muscle answer her silken touch. Encouragement was extended in the form of soft mewls and a subtle shift of her tits. He grazed her upright nipples with his fingertips.
"You're stunning," he muttered while she made her meal of him. "I love watching you blow me."
Her tits brushed against his thigh as Monica vented her hot, anxious breath. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her ass. Her mouth was packed with him as he explored her shapely buttocks.
"You're built nicely, aren't you?" he remarked.
He manually coaxed her, stroking her agitated mound. The moisture in her pussy increased as he clamped it. She moved in a frenzy, urging him to insert his finger. She wanted it inside, fucking her. Attuned to her need, that blond hunk did exactly that. He sank a digit into her cunt.
"Ohhhh," Monica murmured, squirming. Her fixation with Greg temporarily vanished.
She concentrated on the path of that finger. "Yes. Make me juicy."
Excitement infused her. Monica couldn't restrain herself. Her warm, clinging mouth returned to his cock. The slurp of foamy saliva made him jerk.
"Yeah," her Adonis gasped, exhaling with a shiver. His muscles tensed.
Monica wept as he sliced through her hot squish. He plunged several inches into her pussy.
"Finger me," she wailed, shaken. Blood pounded through her temple. She shivered electrically upon contact. Monica widely spread her legs, urging him to probe her succulent innards.
So impassioned were her cries, others from the Maze were summoned to extinguish the blaze. They recognized the flaring of a woman's desire.
Monica sobbed at the press of lips, the slither of tongues, the dance of fingertips. People flanked her side, accentuating her gratification. A pair of hands displaced the finger planted in her snatch. Within seconds, Monica enjoyed the luxurious slurps of a third party. Her clit swam in a pool of hot saliva.
"Ohhhh."
Monica placed her lips close to the blonde's swollen head, blowing warm air onto the sensitive skin. Her tongue darted out, stroking that bulbous tip.
"Finish me," he groaned, leaning toward her opened mouth. His dick, horizontal with excitement, pointed at her. He swung it like a bat. He cupped the back of her head. "You can't leave me like this."
Monica encircled the tip of his cock slowly, tracing the outer edges of his head. She lapped one side, moving sinuously to the base. His balls were lavished with froth before she returned to his heavy knob. She finally parted her lips and took him deeply into her throat. Upon his reintroduction, her tongue never ceased. Monica licked and sucked, using her oral facilities to their potential in providing him joy.
"Let me stay in that mouth," her Adonis muttered. "Don't toss me out. Oh, no." He pistoned his hips, giving her all she could ingest. His balls tapped her chin. "Suck it, baby. Suck it."
Beneath her, a tongue was gainfully employed. Monica sobbed as it tormented her clit, then slithered into her pussy. Ohhhh. Lips grazed her highly aroused flesh. The exhalation of others warmed her backside.
It was almost as it had once been, before Greg entered the picture. Almost-but not quite.
"It's fucking your mouth," Greg grunted from behind. "Let me stick it down your throat. Oh, yeah. Whew. I can't see it. That puppy's gone. You took the whole thing, baby. All of it."
Monica wished he wouldn't be so vocal about his jubilation. It interfered with her concentration-or so she justified.
Her tongue slid along the back of the blonde's shaft, licking to the head. Around his plump tip she went. The muscles in his body rippled. Monica knew she gave great head, given his physical response. She made certain her tits rubbed his legs, letting the friction further stimulate her.
"That feels good," he groaned. His mouth fell at her prolonged suck. A low, resonant moan came from the pit of her throat before his cock blocked it. She drove him out of his mind, pull after pull. Her tongue lapped every inch with excruciating care.
Monica impulsively turned to see what Greg was doing. He was quite responsive to the blonde's style. Up on his haunches, he rode her face. Her eyes rolled back as he steered his cock into her mouth. Just before those lush lips encompassed his base, he let out a wrenching cry, then shoved the rest in. The blonde handled his surge of lust with the expertise of a professional.
Across from her, another stud was getting blown. A brunette with big tits mouthed some guy until he gulped air into his lungs. Sweat poured from his forehead. He watched his partner's lip activity closely, as well as that of her tongue. She seemed accomplished in giving blow jobs.
"I want it to be the best you ever had," she whispered huskily before diving over that mushroomed head. She thrust her tits at him, unwilling to leave his cock. Her nipples brushed the wiry hair of his thigh.
As Monica's lips continued to suck The blond, her tongue lashed his throbbing hardness. He tasted good to her. Monica moved around his head in wet, tantalizing circles. His dick rhythmically filled her mouth. Monica had to stretch herself to accommodate his entire shaft when venturing to the broad base. She flickered over solid bone.
The woman between her legs alternately licked and finger-fucked Monica. She pumped her thoroughly, escalating her pleasure. Monica moaned as she jiggled through her slippery slot, tickling her clit. Monica closed her eyes and let the joy seep through her core, deep in her womb. Her flesh stirred with those pulsing waves.
Monica was thoroughly stimulated. Her pussy was ready to fuck. The woman succeeded in making her juicy enough for penetration.
Meanwhile, Monica ate cock. She made sure the balls of her partner received proper attention. She coated them with saliva in long, luxurious sweeps. He shivered as she wetted each testicle.
"I'm getting close, baby," the blond informed her. "Go ahead. Finish me off."
Monica gulped air, then raced back and forth along the underside of his dick. Her lips roped his hot erection. Monica took him all the way to his trunk at a quickening pace. She wasn't about to stop until that dense cream collected in her mouth.
"Jesus," he grunted, his head rolling from side to side. He attempted to absorb the flood of sensations that assaulted him. "More, baby-give me more of that hot tongue. Flick it all over my shaft. Swallow me."
Monica's face fucked his stiff cock. Her lips descended him in a tight lock. Her hair lashed his groin. His orgasmic buildup was felt through her compressed lips.
"Ughhh," he groaned, snooting in her mouth. "Ughhh. Ughhh. Oh, yeah."
Monica drank his cum. His strenuously discharged himself in her oral warmth. Cupping his buns, she licked his seizure-ridden cock until fully obtaining its remittance.
The woman slurping her to ecstasy stopped.
Her aim was to enhance the quality of Monica's session-not bring her to orgasm. She went on transporting another creature with her oral prowess.
Greg basked in the oral embrace of his blonde. He made no effort to leave her mouth. He pumped her face slowly, relishing the situation.
Monica could watch him no longer. That painful moment was permanently recorded in her mind's eye. She quietly slipped away into the dreamy fog, seeking the Maze's exit.
CHAPTER NINE
"Jesus, baby," Dave groaned, dragging huge gulps of air, "ride me."
"Ohhhh," Diane whimpered, galloping on his lap. That monster, dressed in latex, stood high in her cunt. She gripped him by the shoulders and pushed down. She dragged her expandable rim when sliding up his rock-hard length. Stars flashed before her eyes. The friction stole her breath.
His head slammed into the pillow as he went up her horny snatch. He dug his heels into the mattress. "Let those moist lips stroke me."
Diane moaned. He filled her tight cunt with his bone-solid cock. She bounced savagely on him, lost in ecstasy. His dick slipped in and out of her, his balls smacking her butt. Twisting herself to his base, she smothered him in hot pussy. His massive bulb practically kissed her womb. She had a cuntful of Dave.
In looking down, she saw the corners of Dave's mouth curve. He seemed to relish the experience.
"Fuck me, baby" Diane droned, "fuck me good. I love your big dick. It feels excellent in my pussy."
"Ride it, babe," he grunted. Her pussy lips snapped up his cock. "Go, baby, go-ride that thing. Ride it hard. Spread those legs nice and wide, then give me that snatch."
Diane pressed him into her cunt. Her buttocks dropped onto his lap. His balls touched her silky skin.
She peered into those dark brown eyes. They held an insatiable sparkle-something she definitely created. Although Dave was many years older, he fucked with youthful urgency. His dick was essentially rock. The gray that fringed his dark hair and the few lines of age seemed to accent his seasoned character.
"Up and down on me," he ordered, gasping from her abandoned glide. He lunged at her, sinking more of that incredible shaft into her cunt. Seizing her ass, he dragged her to his pulsing foundation. "Faster."
He subjected Diane to several eye-opening jabs. That dick speared her remote layers. Her air decompressed. She arched back, elevating her pointed nipples. Thoroughly intoxicated, she permitted those waves to course through her system. Diane savored the moment before whipping him into a frenzy. Stroking him with her tenacious lips, she snared his throbbing cock. Clenching her teeth, she let the intensity build. She gyrated harder, urging him to respond. Dave thrust with authority. Diane threw her legs even further apart, shaking.
Dave released her ass and drew her sweaty flesh toward him. Covering one nipple with his mouth, he sucked voraciously. Diane felt his nibble, then the dart of his flickering tongue. Swiveling on his lap, she moved in circles, imploring him to suck harder.
"Keep your mouth there," Diane pleaded, quivering. The lustful heat in her pussy made her bear down, devouring his upright cock with tightly gripping strokes. "That feels good."
He kneaded her other tit while teething her nipple. There wasn't a sensitive spot left unattended. Diane felt totally fucked sitting on his hard-on. She climbed toward a mind-rending orgasm. The walls of her pussy shook as they caressed that rigid beast. She taxed his will power to the limit. Her titillating massage visually overwhelmed him.
She looked between her feathery pubes and saw him extend from her cunt. He wore a rubber. Diane would have preferred feeling him without coverage, but observed the Club's stated precaution. He dug into her crevice, then withdrew. She became woozy from his riveting supply.
She scooped up his balls and delicately fondled them. Dave reacted strongly to her special handling. His chest expanded during her dainty inspection. His features noticeably darkened.
She felt his full cock inside, pushing deeper and deeper into her hot squish. He picked up her ass, then pulled her to his balls. He thrust hard and deep in her belly. It was that last, satisfying plunge that put her over the edge.
Dave's shoulders sank into the mattress, raising his crotch high. He stared at her, flinching, as he endured her rough spasms. Gut-wrenching growls then emptied from him as he pumped hot cum into his rubber's compartment. The sight of her creaming on his perch was more than he could mentally bear.
"Ughhh," he roared, inflating the rubber's tip with hot seed. "Oh, fuck. Oh, baby."
She collapsed over his shuddering frame, smothering him in kisses. Her affection for the man was total. Since they'd begun seeing each other on a regular basis, she couldn't seem to get enough of him.
Dave eventually began bringing her to his place. Neither were suited for back seat contortions. Getting it on in the sack was vastly preferable.
He responded to her loving smacks. At length, he disengaged himself. "Hey," he said, indicating his ballooned condom, "let me get rid of that and make a few calls."
Diane feigned indignation. "Wham-bam and it's off to the showers, eh? I don't take kindly to that kind of treatment."
Wiping the grin off his face, he gave her a peck on the lips. "Keep my spot warm. I'll be back for more-and that's a promise."
He strode from the bedroom, naked. She ogled his muscular buns before they disappeared. The right cheek exhibited her claw mark-a memento from their last belly-slapping fuck.
Diane shivered in anticipation. Dave's sex drive was virtually indefatigable. He went like a machine, stopping for momentary refueling before getting back into the race. Little was required to swell that monster hanging between his legs. A crooked finger, a smile, a suggestive wink and he was raring to go.
Dave Fairweather was a condition for which she prayed was no cure. A daily dose of him definitely kept her on her toes.
For the first time in two years, she stopped going to the Club. It ceased providing the thrills she regularly craved. Swinging had its advantages, but nothing rivaled a steady, imaginative partner. Dave's enthusiasm more than satisfied her. Rhapsody consistently overlapped each session. Before she recovered from their last bout, he surprised her with an exhausting round of brain-numbing ecstasy. He was everything she wanted in a man-plus!
The most perplexing aspect of their relationship, unfortunately, was not knowing enough about him. Dave insisted upon an element of mystery. He consented to having sex at his apartment, but only after she strongly lobbied for it. He was reluctant to reveal much about his personal life. Family photographs, trophies and various memorabilia were noticeably deficient. She longed to know of his origins and immerse herself in intimate detail. Either he strategically removed all evidence of his past, or had none. Diane tended to believe the former.
She yearned to know where that extraordinary man came from. How did she happen to get so lucky?
His apartment held no clues. Dave lived a bachelor's existence and surrounded himself with the expected paraphernalia. His place was sparsely furnished. Other than a bed, table, chairs and sofa, he limited his possessions. She did, however, notice a computer in his den. Usually, it was turned off.
While lazing along the cum-stained sheets, Diane flitted to various parts of the room. Dave obviously favored wood and earth tones-typically male, she blithely summarized. Smiling, she stroked the soiled linens. What did she care? The originality he lacked in interior decoration, he channeled her in bed. She had no complaint.
Her eyes settled upon his discarded clothes next to hers on the floor. His wallet emerged from the back pocket.
The seed of temptation slowly germinated. The pieces of evidence he denied her were within reach. All she needed to do was retrieve what he held confidential.
She quietly went through the contents of his wallet. His driver's license contained a decent picture. His date of birth, height and weight weren't of much value. She found credit plates, his insurance carrier and membership card to the Club. She carefully scrutinized it. His PIN began with almost the same numerical sequence as hers.
Diane took a deep breath. Was Dave a member of its inner circle?
His voice rose in the background. She distinguished the end of his telephone conversation. Without missing a beat, she reassembled the components of his wallet and returned it to its original spot. She scrambled into bed within seconds of his arrival.
Dave sat beside her. He patted the sheets, then fixed her with a smirk. "You've been a naughty girl."
"Oh?" Her pulse quickened.
"This spot is no longer warm. What were you doing?"
She tried to make light of it, if only to cancel the guilt. "I won't tell."
"Then you must be punished."
She played along with him. Dave's concept of discipline was usually a delectable experience. She permitted him to spank her the day before. His light palming had been thoroughly enjoyable.
A tube of K-Y came out of his night stand. He squeezed a generous amount on his fingertip.
"Roll over," he sternly ordered.
"And if I don't?"
He kissed her. Their joined lips sizzled. "You'll force me to do unspeakable things."
"Mmmmm. By all means, get on with it."
He worked his greasy digit into her anus. She moaned as he delved to its very bottom. She loved his long, thick fingers-so indicative of his size.
He descended into the grip of her rectum. After ascertaining its lubrication, he pulled it out. Her anus instantly contracted. He bent down and individually kissed her butt cheeks. She sighed at the press of his lips. He completed each peck with a moist dart.
"Are you looking forward to your punishment?" he asked while putting on a fresh rubber. Per his custom, he donned one prior to entry.
"Yes," she sighed serenely against the crisp sheets. Her nipples tingled. Her clit throbbed.
He spread her buns widely apart, then squeezed his domed head into her butt hole. She gasped. No matter how comfortable she got, his width startled her. No amount of relaxation adequately prepared her for its eye-openingingress.
He drilled into her greased hole, dividing her sweet cheeks. He inched through that dark, pulsing stratum, making it his own. She whimpered from that burgeoning hardness, knowing it belonged to him. His impalement made her lightheaded. Closing her eyes, she completely surrendered to that cock overtaking her. His balls eventually rested upon her quivering cheeks. He put all his dick into that snug enclosure.
"It's drum-tight," he whispered in her ear. After a moment's pause, he licked her lobe.
"Oh, God," she murmured from the rush of tingles.
"This is what you've been asking for," he mentioned, commencing his punishing strokes. "Slide your ass to it. Fuck me with your tight ass-hole."
Stuffed with him, she sobbed. He explored her dark channel, feeding her that cock in its entirety. Dazed, she shifted on her elbows. His balls slapped her rump, making his occupation known.
Dave stroked her gripping rear. His lengthy shaft went farther with each thrust. She felt weak from his extensive probe. Her buns jiggled around his butt-fucking member.
"Jesus," Diane sobbed, clutching a pillow to her breasts. He pumped her in earnest, slamming into her splayed cheeks. Her insides roiled with pleasure.
Dave massaged her buttocks, then ran his hands along her firm thighs. He caressed their silkiness while driving himself home. His dick charged into her clasping chute without resistance. Diane received him in full, taking his cock to her very bowels. He loved the tension she exerted upon him. Her muscles tightened in accord with his penetrating member. Groaning, he drove his immense shaft to capacity.
He watched his sheathed cock move through her widened anus. In and out he fucked, savoring its constriction. Although a thin layer separated their flesh, he derived immense satisfaction from her tight fit.
Diane felt the slap of hair and balls to her bare bottom. His kinky pubes tickled her behind. Phenomenal sensations shimmered through her body. Dave's incessant ramming sent her to oblivion. Pain was not even remotely endured. Contentment was the overriding factor.
Dave gasped as he pumped her buns. Her flesh was smooth and sleek against him. The rubber did not dilute her wonderful heat. He still received the benefits of her rapturous narrowing.
"Have you had enough?" he hoarsely inquired.
"Not a chance," she replied through clenched teeth. She adapted to the joy of being anally taken. Whether he was cognizant of it, his strokes stimulated an upcoming orgasm. She fingered her clit during his abandoned hammering. Her mouth dropped open as she rotated that swollen bud. "Ohhhh. Oh, God."
Dave secured her hips and hauled her to his lust-crazed body. He recognized her orgasmic climb. Her ascending cries supported that notion. He was glad to see her at the brink. Lingering in her crushing rectum was sheer torture. The urge to spew was imminent.
Diane's nipples whisked over the sheets. Her tits swung pendulously as she pounded herself to Dave's wide stem. Her finger remained busy, expediting her release. Juice seeped from her lips, dampening its path.
"I can't handle another minute of that ass," he croaked. He planted his cock to its physical extent and shot his load. His hips jerked with each blast. His rubber captured his furious juice. "Ughhh."
Diane spasmed during his explosion. His slow grinding precipitated her climax. Her finger, the necessary instrument, completed the circuit. The conclusion was intensely gratifying.
Dave got up on his knees, yanking his rubber-clad cock from her quivering rectum. "Oh, Christ," he gasped, shuddering. Weakness overtook him. He rolled onto his back and essentially passed out.
She gazed at him in slumber. His smooth planes took on a rugged beauty. She could stare at him for hours and never tire of it. Dave totally fascinated her.
She got out of bed and slowly stretched her limbs. She needed a drink of water. Her throat had grown dry during that delicious marathon. She was careful not to disturb Dave as she departed the bedroom.
A high pitched hum came from another room. Curiously, she opened the door. Dave had left on his computer. The screen displayed an arrangement of windowed applications. Her thirst for knowledge motored her step. She studied the illuminated text. Hmmmm. Diane was no expert at PC software, but recognized a communications package. Dave had just sent a letter-E-mail, as it was technically labeled. No doubt, he had an Internet address. Although she was merely a bank teller, Diane had absorbed some of the office jargon. People used the Internet to transmit messages, as well as glean information. It was a platform open to virtually anyone with a computer and modem.
She had no idea Dave was proficient in such matters. People had grown increasingly dependent on "cyberspace" to conduct both professional and personal matters. Although he furnished nothing substantial in terms of his regular job, she gathered he used that medium for business purposes.
According to the text typed in a dialogue box, Dave had dispatched instructions to someone concerning supplies and personnel. There seemed a dark nature in the language he employed. "Paying off an informant," and "dealing with the repercussions" were the last used phrases.
Diane wondered if Dave ran some illegal agency. Certainly that would qualify for confidentiality. He had that believable kind of presence.
He never explained where he went, what he did, or who he was with. Given the myriad questions that popped in her head, she concluded the worst.
His membership card to the Club further alarmed her. Was he somehow connected to a branch of its operation?
CHAPTER TEN
Monica succeeded in getting Greg to her apartment for another night of isolated sex. She seduced him in the car before he could get his bearings straight. A hand on the crotch, a tongue-filled kiss and a flash of tit did the trick. Greg automatically agreed to forgo the Club.
Her ego recovered from the debacle of the Maze. Monica had hit rock bottom. Never had she felt so rejected. Greg hadn't emerged for two hours. By the time she got him, he was drained.
She prayed another round of unrestrained passion away from the Club and its orgy madness might repair the damage. She wanted Greg to solely crave her. Getting him involved with the secret inner workings of the Club had been a terrible mistake. Greg, she came to realize, was the man of her dreams; losing him to the Club was a bitter pill to swallow.
She needed to wean him from it. The Club was highly addictive. It fulfilled fantasies, but it also dominated one's life. Monica felt capable of resisting it, but wasn't convinced in Greg's case.
They tumbled through the door in her apartment. She had continued his seduction in the elevator. During their ride to her floor, she had rubbed her voluptuous body against him until he was shivering with need. The air contracted from her lungs while he probed her mouth. His tongue awakened every cell in her body.
"Oh, God," she sighed, trembling.
Hotly, they kissed. Their lips hungrily came together. The thirst for sex was powerful and dizzying. Ohhhh. She could scarcely wait to rip off his clothes and climb all over him.
Greg pressed himself against her mound. He cupped her buttocks and pulled her tightly to himself. His cock swelled through his pants. Monica moaned as he ground it into her.
Her apartment was cloaked in darkness. Silvery moonlight pouring through the blinds was her only means of seeing him. With a sense of urgency, Greg steered her into the bedroom. Monica breathlessly followed his lead.
She sobbed after he expertly withdrew her blouse and buried his mouth at the nape of her neck. She was highly vulnerable to the crush of his lips-particularly against her exposed skin.
Greg didn't merely kiss her-he dispensed tingling moisture. A combination of sucking and licking marked his trail.
She slumped against the silk sheets, surrendering unconditionally to him. He seemed so different that evening, so happy to be with her.
Her nipples swelled beneath her bra. Greg inspired their growth by applying intoxicating thumb rotation. Those lacy cups eventually fell from her tits after a twist of his fingers.
"Those look tasty," he whispered of her nubs. He measured his movements, no longer acting in haste. He enlarged them lick by lick. Leisurely his tongue swirled, distributing a string of bubbles.
Monica moaned, affected by the fiery commotion of his tip. His suit jacket slipped from his broad shoulders. Greg took no pains to hang it-not with Monica's agony in limbo. She tracked his tongue's path, circling her nipple and leaving a spittle coating.
Greg remained calm and in control during his oral spree. He perceived her needs and gently, calmly attended them. Apart from that initial burst of animal fury when they entered her place, Greg lapsed into tenderness. He comprehended that the night was for their private use.
He administered a lazy stream of saliva over those nipples that sent ripples of mounting hysteria through her entire being. Leaning toward him, she reached into his mouth. His lips enclosed her. He pulled gingerly on that stiff peak, then slowly released it. Hot saliva rinsed over her bare skin.
She loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar, then undid his shirt. He riddled her with goose bumps. Leisurely stripping him made her wet.
Greg similarly enjoyed undressing her. The heat from her crotch set his pulse in motion. The scented ringlets beneath her panties drew his appetite. Unable to curb it, he pulled those sweet-smelling bottoms over her hips. A pair of moist cunt lips, wreathed in curls, awaited his consumption. He'd partaken of them before, but never tired of their sugary flavor.
Monica was pleased by his thirst. She liked when he hungered for her pussy. Its succulent folds stretched for his sucking pleasure.
Greg inhaled those luscious vapors. He split her sappy lips with his thumbs and groaned from their redolence. Veritable peach nectar streamed from her opening. Lowering himself, he let her juices dissolve on his tongue.
"Ohhhh," Monica moaned at his initial flick. When he scooped more of her pussy juice, her nails sank into his shoulders. He delicately lapped her cunt flesh, delivering a stirring barrage for her to digest.
Her snatch oozed with flavor. He swooped upon that highly sensitive region, dipping into its source. He fed upon those hot secretions. The flaps of her juicy snatch slipped from his thumbs. He reinstated his grip, then delved for more of her treat.
Monica clenched her teeth as that tongue drilled her cunt. She heard the moist circle of his tip, then blinked rapidly as it rolled over her excited clit. Before permitting her recovery, he again washed that pebble in hot saliva. His tongue sluggishly moved in circles.
After listening to Monica's verbal agony, he sliced into that moist sanctuary with his tongue. He twitched within its saccharine heat, then extracted its cunt flavor. His subsequent thrusts caused her ass to thump on the mattress.
"Yes," Monica cried, letting that tongue fuck her. Her chin went high as he crammed it into her wanting crevice. Twisting her hips, she derived satisfaction from it tickling probe. "Oh, yes. Wiggle it inside my pussy. Go deeper."
Greg delved into that saline warmth, drinking all Monica could yield. He precipitously sucked and licked her fragrant cunt. Once he got her pussy juicy enough, he planned to put his dick into it.
While feasting on that pussy, he unbelted his trousers and had them drop to his feet. His shirt was recklessly flung into a pile. Getting completely naked took precedence over all else.
Monica moaned as he went down on her. That dark blond head swayed between her legs, taking mouthfuls of cunt. The clamp of his lips tamed her abandoned fluctuations. When he switched to her clit and consolidated his forces on that quivering bud, she almost went berserk. As a consequence, she emitted a sugary flow.
Monica's hot seepage poured down his throat. Her pussy was a fount, spurting its joy. Greg greedily ate her honey-laced soppage. He deliberately grazed her clit with his lips. The flare in her eyes, the screech in her throat resulted from his gentle pursuit. He rubbed against that enlarged nub, riling her to no end.
At length, Monica gripped his shoulders and pushed him away. "Get up here," she ordered, breathless. Physically, she was a wreck. "I want to work on you."
Obediently, Greg eased onto his back. His long, healthy cock stood high in the air. It was solely hers tonight-to do with as she wished.
She climbed on him, consciously positioning her pussy above his face. The salted heat from Greg's rotund cockhead pinched her nostrils. A drop of pre-cum rose from its tip. At once, she scooped it with her tongue. Greg's gasp sounded from behind.
Monica outlined the curvature of that purplish head, leaving a bubbly trail. Greg had a robust, manly flavor. The mix of after-shave and perspiration aroused her. The odor of sweat on his balls made her pant. Greg retained a fresh, masculine aroma.
She ran her fingertips over those fleecy thighs. The fuzzy wisps titillated her. The crimped nest of crotch hair carried more of his clean, wholesome scent. She patted it, then gathered his balls. The bulb-shaped head moved toward her lips.
Greg's fingers branched across Monica's ass. He brought that dark V-formation flush with his mouth. His lips hemmed in its moist opening while dipping into her crevice. He slurped her pussy, one indulgent lash after another. His enthusiastic tongue filled her cunt.
"Oh, baby," Monica moaned from between his legs. Hot air fanned the insides of his thighs and balls. He wriggled deeply into her snatch. "Yeah."
He heightened that thrill by slowly detaching himself from her juicy center, then provoking the edible folds with his tip. Her woman juices gushed from her agitated pussy. Darting at that sappy pulp, he downed her saccharine fluid.
Monica shifted on top of his body, bearing down on his face. Greg's cunt-lapping skills were polished. She was near fainting with joy. Her vision dulled as he indulged himself in a dazing forage. He sank into that flavorful squish, smacking his lips with her tart drippage.
His dick ballooned before her and awaited some feverish love. Monica picked up the thread of her original mission and traced the jutting rim of his cockhead. Tenderly, she caressed his shaft while vacillating over that bloated helmet. A foamy coat resulted from her luxuriant slurps.
"Oh, yeah," Greg muttered from behind. "Lick my cock. That feels good."
Monica's passionate tickle drove that sensation through every vessel of his being. Its intolerable sweetness caused him to pitch beneath her. He shuddered when her hot drool dribbled down his shaft, onto his balls. Enduring its fork over that velvety surface brought palpitations.
After an excruciating wait, Monica's lips unlocked. He gained entry into that agonizing warmth. Taking him in degrees, Monica drew him into her mouth. He gasped as she sucked his dick. She had him in an exhilarating clasp, tugging his taut skin. His eyeballs rolled in their sockets as he endured her sweet pull.
"Christ," he muttered. Jamming his heels into the undulating mattress, he controlled her intake. He felt himself roll across her vibrant tongue, then continue into the prickling vacuum beyond that point. His cock was smothered in her baking drool. Those responsive lips engulfed him. He pushed himself to capacity in that hot receptacle. He thrived in Monica's pucker. "Oh, yeah, baby. Swallow me. Fit me in your throat."
"Mmmmmm," she hummed against his trapped flesh. She tailored his licks to his liking.
Shaking, Greg returned her pussy to his mouth and mined it with his tongue. Her wet, sappy layers unfurled. He spiraled to that sodden core and drank her excitement. Monica tensed around his face. He stabbed into that honeyed pulp with agonizing repetition.
Monica picked up her hips and rode his face. She smeared his mouth and chin with her cunt nectar. The stab of his tongue accelerated her pulse. She moaned as the juices were sucked from her pussy.
She captured much of that hard cock, torturing it with her darting tip and massaging lips. She rubbed that plush sheath while clenching his flourishing mass. Framing his balls with her hands, she angled his erect member for maximum consumption. That big dick was in her juicy grasp, subjected to tormenting compression. Harder and harder she sucked upon it, prompting his eruption.
They fed upon each for several wonderful moments before their efforts reimbursed them.
Monica worked frantically on Greg, commanding that he take his pleasure. She stroked his solid cock until the distant tremors grew stronger with each pass of her ringed lips. He shook vigorously as she intensified her oral embrace.
"Oh, yeah," Greg groaned, tossing beneath her. The muscles of his powerful body rippled.
Monica's clinging lips manipulated him to that irreversible point. Eluding orgasm was futile. His brain cells crystallized as she mouthed him. Her movements quickened relative to his breathing.
"Ughhh," he cried, dragging air through his gnashing teeth. "Ughhh. Ughhh. Ughhh."
Hot, salted cum poured into her mouth. Monica, prepared for his copious discharge, immediately swallowed it. His cock jerked wildly in her mouth, spurting its warm seed. She fondled his balls while slowly draining him.
Greg sufficiently regained his senses to carry out Monica's orgasm. Her throbbing clit was his target. He sucked fiercely on it, demanding her surrender. Her love button quivered beneath his frenzied onslaught. He willed her to climax.
"Oh, God," Monica gasped. Greg's tongue persisted in delivering her unrelenting joy. Her mouth dropped open when the fever consumed her. She had barely downed his last drops of cum before that crippling seizure took root. "Ohhhh. Ohhhh."
She spasmed against his mouth, feeding him her warm juices. Those violent contractions nearly induced unconsciousness.
"Yes," she moaned, jamming herself to his hungry expression. Even in orgasm, she wanted him to stay with her. "Oh, yes. Keep sucking it."
Greg's fingertips left faint red marks while hugging her to his face. She held her fast to his gulping orifice, augmenting her bliss with his spearing tongue. Each jab was sheer agony-and undeniably pleasing.
Monica was at the brink of collapse. She turned and sailed into Greg's arms, desperate for their comfort. The ferocity of that climax left her disordered.
"That was nice," she purred. "Aren't you glad we came here instead?"
He nodded.
She wondered about his sincerity. He seemed attentive, yet she wasn't entirely convinced.
She drifted down the length of his body. Greg had dramatically improved with respect to tone. Physically, he drove her wild. The machines were still put to heavy use. Greg hadn't neglected the conditioning aspect of the Club. He strenuously exercised before retiring to the Orgy Room.
She shook all thought of the Club from her mind. She did not want it to intrude on her special evening with him.
His dick lay temporarily limp. She had voracious need of it. She opened her mouth and flicked her tongue at his pulsating tip. Greg emitted a pleasured gasp at the touch of her saliva.
"Yeah," he muttered. She rekindled the spark in his cock. His head slid to the side, then pressed into the pillow. He jammed his heels into the mattress. "Oh, yeah, more."
Monica descended upon his heavy shaft. Her lips rolled over his flaccid length. He began to grow. Her fingers curled around him, pulling him back to life. He inched through her fist, regaining his magnificent size. Her tongue flitted across the mushroomed head.
"Rub it with your lips," he implored.
She obeyed. The aroma of spent cum pinched her nostrils. She continued nibbling, making him big. He solidified between her pumping lips.
"Kiss it," he said, jabbing at her mouth. "Stay on the head. Yeah." He groaned, his head rolling from side to side as she took more of his dick. "Now suck it."
She plied his cock with foamy saliva. Her lips whirled over the head, then widened to taken him whole. She moaned, absorbing his shaft. She slid down his pulsating cock, plying him with vibration. She took pleasure in sucking him, relaxing the muscles in her throat. She cupped his balls as she ate him, teasing them with her thumb.
He slid back into the bed, throwing his legs apart. Monica gobbled him up. "That's it, suck it. Suck it, baby. Eat me. Lick it. Lick that cock. Slide it down your throat. Yeah. You know what to do with it."
Monica sucked him feverishly, tossing her hair over his lap as she devoured his throbbing shaft.
Greg's fingers enclosed her head, lifting her from his cock. Spit stretched from her lips to the bloated head. "Put it between your tits, baby. Fuck me with those big tits of yours."
Monica was more than happy to oblige him. She hoisted her boobs into his lap, fitting them around his hard dick. She watched his excitement illuminate as they enclosed him. She brought her swollen nipples together.
"Jesus, their so soft," he gasped as she tightened around him.
Monica began stroking him with her tits, moving them up and down his rigid thing. Coated with her drool, he was sufficiently lubricated. His palpitations were strongly felt through her billowy package. Greg was fiercely aroused. He groaned as she rubbed him.
His blue eyes were centered upon his sandwiched dick. He loved how they clung to him, tugging at his skin. After a moment, his pupils curved into his whites. The pleasure was intense.
"That feels good, doesn't it?" Monica purred.
"Totally incredible," was his hoarse summation.
The hardness lumbered through the groove of her fleshy globes. Greg slid himself up and down, gasping. His balls thudded against her tits. She shivered at the feel of flesh and hair in her cleavage.
"You're making me so hot with those tits," he grunted, jerking his dick into the fleshy nook. "Oh, baby, hop on me so I can cum in your pussy."
"Don't you want me to finish?"
"I want to be inside you," he said. "Come sit on me, babe. I'm like a rock."
Monica wanted to fuck him just as much. She climbed onto his lap and lifted herself over his stiff cock. Greg stuck his bloated crown between her cunt lips, then pulled her toward him.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned. Her inner temperature was wonderful. He plowed into hot squish.
Monica moaned as he impaled her. His cock went high into her cunt. She sank slowly, savoring every penetrating inch. He stuffed her orgasm-ravaged pussy. "Ohhhh."
She straddled him. Her nipples were like pebbles, standing at attention. Her beautiful face shimmered with joy. It took a few moments for her to attain composure, but once she did, her ecstasy seemed complete.
Her clit ground against him, creating sweet friction. She rocked herself back and forth, visibly enjoying having him embedded. She loved that monster.
"It's jammed in you," he said, his voice strained. "Can you feel me?"
"Oh, yeah," she sobbed. "Oh, yeah."
"Hump it, baby," he gasped, getting caught up in the commotion her swaying hips instigated. "Bring those pussy lips all the way down." He grabbed her shoulders and lifted himself. His cock went yet further into her spongy warmth. "Yeah. Juice me, baby. Make that thing wet."
Monica rose and fell on Greg's cock in splendor, listening to the slick sounds made by her pussy stroking his cock. She thrust her tits forward, taunting him with her erect nipples, seeing if he could catch one with his tongue. Her movements were seriously satisfying. Soon, she was caught up in the heat. Greg's features became flushed. She saw the urgent expression in his eyes.
"Jesus, baby. I'm gonna cum," he cried hoarsely. Seconds later, he shuddered and squirted heavily into her pussy.
"Ohhhh," Monica moaned, absorbing her man's jism. She spasmed against his vibrating hardness, riding him to the end. She slumped over him, gasping for air. Greg's arms went around her, clutching her close.
Afterward, he went into the bathroom to refresh himself. While he turned the faucets and water noisily splashed, Monica picked up his discarded clothes. She didn't want his suit to get wrinkled.
She caressed his belongings. His masculine scent clung to each item. Mmmmm. As she folded his pants, his wallet fell out. In picking it up, a small package dropped. Monica examined it: extra-sensitive Trojans.
What was Greg doing with rubbers? He had no need of them now that they had grown intimate.
Suddenly, she was crestfallen. He would need them if he was active outside the Club.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Do you subscribe to any of the auxiliary services at the Club?"
That inquiry sprang from Diane's lips before she could stop it. No thought had been given to its presentation. She simply hurled it at him while at his apartment.
Dave gave no indication of discomfiture. "Why do you ask?"
Diane regretted pressing him. It was conceivable Dave had no such knowledge. His smooth complexion contradicted such claims. Allowing for the possibility of misinterpretation, she rephrased her question. "I wondered if you were familiar with its innovations."
He met her gaze. "What else is available?"
"Surely you know."
"I'm afraid I don't."
Facts that fell into her hands invalidated his statement. She wanted to confess having seen his membership card. Two weeks ago, she learned that his PIN was dangerously close in sequence. Only those admitted to its steamy chambers received it; the others were assigned a different prefix.
Diane tried to control her temper, but Dave's placid look exacerbated the situation. His assertions about being a salesman for some office supply company were utter fabrication. She had uncovered additional evidence that pointed in a more sinister direction. "When are we going to be honest with each other? You insist upon making everything hush-hush. It's driving me insane."
He chuckled. "Isn't that part of the thrill-the delicious unknown? If I solved the mystery, the magic would end."
Diane hated raking him over the coals. Portraying the "jealous female" was a role she detested. She totally believed in a personal freedom, yet she had the gumption to hurl allegations. "You have an Internet address," she blurted, without hesitation.
He shrugged. "So? Doesn't everyone?"
"Don't be a smart ass. You're linked to some organization."
Dave did not flinch in the least. "Of course, I am. I have bills to pay. How else would I generate income? I've made no secret of being a salesman."
She shook her head. "It's more than that, I'm afraid. You haven't got an ordinary job." Clearing her throat, she went on. "You oversee some sort of operation."
He broke into a smile. "Have I been under investigation? Are you researching my background?" There was a tinge of malice in his tone.
Diane deplored attacking him, yet could not cease launching her salvo. "I saw E-mail on your computer screen. You're using the Internet to conduct business. What more, you're connected to the Club."
"What makes you think that?"
"Your PIN is nearly identical to mine. You enjoy like membership privileges-the kind that are available for an additional fee."
The smile left his face.
Having gone that far, she exhausted her gunfire. "Drop the pretense, Dave. It doesn't suit you. All these weeks we've been together and you've insisted upon using protection. If you've been dispensed that PIN, then you submitted to the battery of tests imposed by the Club. You've gone to the Orgy Room, the Sauna, the Maze-I'll bet you've done that all along." The mailbox he had sent his message that day came to mind. She recalled something along the lines of club.com. After mulling it over, the pieces began to fit.
Dave saw her reasoning powers at work.
"You've spoiled the surprise," he sighed with resignation.
"You're kidding," she said, as both the conclusion and his solemnity registered.
"It's true. I own it."
"Own it? As in, the president?"
"Exactly. I don't like flaunting those credentials, but you've pried where you shouldn't have." He gazed out the window. The stars flickered in the sky. "I run the Club through the Internet. People in its executive offices receive my E-mail and act on my instructions. I fund it through a numbered bank account. My bookkeeping department pays all bills through it."
"How do you hire your staff?"
"Through devious methods. They haven't a clue what I look like. If someone passes muster, I visit the Club and scrutinize them. No one knows they're on a subsequent interview. I note my observations, then render my decision via E-mail to my management team."
"What made you form the Club?"
"I wanted a safe environment for people to explore their fantasies. This has become a cruel world with harsh realities. I feel I'm contributing a small measure of comfort to those who crave the thrill without the risk. I've gambled on similar investments. The Club has been my first qualified success. I'm what you would term a venture capitalist. I heavily speculated on this project. Fortunately, I made a killing."
There was a hint of sadness in each response. Dave did not seem happy about replying, yet did so out of courtesy. Diane felt miserable for having subjecting him to such an ordeal.
She caressed his arm. "What's to become of us?"
He gave a wan smile. "Nothing, except end the relationship. I have no respect for trespassers. The Club has run smoothly without such interference. I could never stay with someone I distrusted."
"But, Dave, I won't tell. I just wanted honesty."
"I granted that wish." He looked at the ground. "It would be best if you left."
Diane recognized the red alert. She had gone beyond redemption. Dave wanted no part of her. Desperately, she groped for a way of salvaging the wreckage. "You don't want that, despite what's happened. We can settle the matter in bed."
He perked at her suggestion. "Why not make the most of our last night together?"
Diane was determined to mend the situation. She needed to restore Dave's faith in her. Surely he knew that her quest for knowledge was based on the strong affection she had for him. She harbored no ulterior motive.
Her pussy ached for his ten inches. Spreading her knees and elevating her butt, she moaned. Dave enclosed her buttocks, wielding an urgent grip. He seemed his old, horny self. Not another word was mentioned about breaking up. She prayed he had second thoughts.
Diane shivered as his firm thumbs slipped over her compact cheeks and overtook the moist lips of her cunt. He was magnetically drawn to them. A prolonged exhalation followed when they were slowly divided.
"Ohhhh," she sobbed. Her writhing ass screamed for him. She wanted him to bury his misery in it.
The edge of his thumb sank into her succulent crevice. Diane instantly gasped, then rotated her buttocks. Her cry of delectation pierced him.
Dave suppressed the urge to insert his entire finger into her wanting pussy. Those sopping lips would receive his swollen cock before all else.
Dave slid his hand beneath her. He encompassed her dense thatch and quivering mound in one fell swoop. Her buns were level with his throbbing cock. Her knees swiftly came apart, fanning her slippery folds for his unobstructed view. Her cunt was drenched with desire.
He steered his bloated head to her dripping chasm. Diane's lust was at full flame. At the point of contact, his breath left him. That pink lining swallowed him. Blindly, he pushed through her layers of hot squish. Diane exerted herself. She squeezed each section he crammed inside her.
"Oh, yeah," he groaned, feeding her his throbbing burden. "Take it. Hide me in there." Clasping her cheeks, he speared their relief-giving center. He opened her cunt in increments, until his dick was completely submerged. His balls rested against her trembling backside.
Diane clawed the pillow. His forty-four-year-old cock was buried in her young pussy. Her pupils curved into the whites of her eyes. Adjusting to that thriving mass sent her into a frenzy.
Dave, throwing his head back, took a cleansing breath before pumping that hungry snatch. He evoked an animal sound while charging through its crushing embrace. Smashing his crotch to hers, he reveled in that exhilarating warmth. Gazing between her butt cheeks, he saw himself bridge into that saturated cunt. Diane fit him like a glove. Her pussy wrapped securely about his dick.
Diane savored the frantic beat of his cock. Those wild pulsations stoked the flames of her passion. Though Dave was packed to the limit, she made room for that monster. Containing his wide circumference exacted her breath. The pink band of her cunt stretched to capacity. No matter how often they coupled, Diane marveled at its staggering impact. His thing dug deeply into her snatch, dominating her senses.
"Oh, yeah," she moaned, "give it to me. Stick me with your huge cock. Feed it to my wet pussy. Stuff me with it."
Dave left imprints on her soft flesh. Gritting his teeth, he whistled air. "You've got it, baby. I'm jammed in your cunt."
Diane gasped from his awesome reach. His bulbous head felt lodged in her midsection. Mewling, she launched a moderate tempo. Backing away from that gut-wrenching dick, she slid from its fat trunk. Her juicy cunt lips squeaked across his solid track, puckering that manly length. Before arriving at his ballooned head, she reversed direction and reabsorbed him. The skin of his cock clustered before her crease, then gradually slithered into her drenched hole.
"Yes," Dave uttered, shutting his eyes and letting that thrill run riot through his system. He sliced that squishy bottleneck. Diane mustered friction. She willed herself into a knot. "Squash me with that tight pussy."
She moaned as he sawed through her spongy pulp. His cock spread those slick flaps and speared her soft tissue. "Fuck me, baby. Put that big dick where it belongs."
Dave burrowed his knees into the mattress and pushed so deeply into that sweet enclosure, his bloated crown nearly kissed her womb. Diane enveloped him with her numbing heat. He pulled her butt cheeks to him, shafting that hugging snatch. His balls slapped her backside as he tunneled into her cunt. Lightheaded, he came up for air. That long, hard dick repeatedly drilled her snatch. Her trembling vise supplied a dizzying charge.
Diane placed a finger on her swollen clit. Dave's swift pump provoked its need for a massage. She jiggled that firm love dot, then moaned at the resulting flurry. Delectation bolted through her body, originating from that point.
Dave observed Diane's face while she probed herself with her digit. She turned so he could study her gasping profile. Those blue pupils revolved in their sockets.
Animal instinct prevailed. Tightening his grip on her quivering flesh, he wedged himself between those adjustable cunt lips. Diane automatically exerted her pussy around his cock. Frantically, she fingered herself. That demand for stimulation drove him wild. He jabbed her hot receptacle, relishing their moist noises.
"Stroke me," she wept, briskly moving her ass. Rapidly, she twitched her frenzied clit. Exquisite pressure was incorporated in that cyclical action. She whimpered as he shoved that massive thing into her pussy. His balls punctuated each savage thrust. "Stroke me with that stiff cock."
Her juicy clasp virtually choked off his circulation. He felt her urgent ministrations while pumping that snatch. Her snatch gobbled his length in hungry gulps. He groaned as it swallowed him whole. Her pussy accommodated the reach of his cock.
"Fuck me, baby," she implored, "fuck me hard. Oh, yeah. I can really feel it." Gazing between her legs, she viewed his balls and heavy base moving toward the furry mouth of her cunt. The sound of it sliding into position turned her on. The juicy lips of her snatch noisily adjusted to his urgent member. That profuse, filling sensation drove her wild. She was very susceptible to his cunt-piercing lunge. Dave lowered his giant cock to her palpitating center. A sweat broke out across her body as he repetitiously ground to her molten core.
She loved when Dave submerged himself to the hilt. Absorbing the most intimate and mercurial part of his body immensely pleased her.
In rebuttal to the sweeping turmoil that ruled her senses, she grazed the lower section of his cock emerging from her drenched slit and fondled his balls. His extended groan came after her ticklish pursuit. She daubed his taut skin with her liquefied joy. Spreading moist heat over his sac ferociously excited him.
Dave, groaning, fucked her pussy harder. Putting his all into their mutual pleasure, he caused her to buckle. He could not tackle the overload to his stimulus; instead, he opted to take it to the limit-regardless of its capacity to cut their journey short.
Diane moaned from the intensity building inside her. That hard, thrusting cock took command of her reason. The frenzied commotion he engendered could not be ignored. Dave's tooth-rattling immersion in her cunt displaced her wandering grope. Disabled from massaging his equipment, she returned to her agitated clit. Her jiggling finger provided instant relief. She sobbed as he continued to run that monster through her tremulous gap.
Those pummeling jerks belonged to Dave, she pleasantly reminded herself. He prodded her juicy cunt with his big dick. He dug deeply into her snatch, filling it with his breathtaking shaft.
Dave, hunching over Diane, covered her budding nipples with his palms. They were bursting with excitement. He rotated them to his satisfaction while gathering up her tits.
Electric shocks were fed to her system while Dave trained his thumbs over those swollen nuggets. She moaned, recipient of each jolting spark. His balls slapped her ass after each cunt-occupying descent. Heavily anchored in her pussy, he pumped her with halting sweetness. Taking handfuls of tit accentuated her bliss.
"Yeah, baby," he gasped in her ear, pulling himself from her succulent clasp, then burrowing into it. "Your pussy is so wet. It takes all of me."
Diane's rhapsody precluded her from formulating a response. She could not think beyond the delicious crunch between their bodies. She was, however, acutely aware of having that cherished part of Dave deep inside. He thrived in the heart of her snatch.
Dave affixed his mouth to the base of her throat while riding her. He sucked the soft flesh while squeezing her tits.
She came while he vigorously fucked her. The strength of that orgasm took her by surprise. Life, for a brief moment, stopped. She nearly lost consciousness as crippling contractions riddled her body.
"Ohhhh," she cried, buckling beneath his ramming force. "Ohhhh."
Dave, relishing that culmination of splendor, rode out her fury. Diane's veering ass could not escape his impaling cock. He plowed through soaked tissue, sinking into her convulsive heat.
"That's it, baby," he whispered, "cum for me. Wrap yourself around my dick and go for it."
He could feel the breath go out of her while weathering that marvelous storm. Dropping a hand to her trembling thigh, he lifted it and gently coaxed her onto her side. Diane's climax nearly influenced his, but he elected to fuck her sidesaddle. Watching himself glide into that damp snatch from over her shoulder was a thrilling prospect.
Dave remained embedded during that change in position. Holstered ten inches deep, there was no chance of slippage. In addition, her cunt lips held him fast.
Diane's tits shifted, her nipples extending to a point. Scooping one up, he traced its pink circle, then flicked its pronounced tip. Sweat dripped from those elevated nubs. During the course of their fuck, Diane worked herself into quite a swelter.
Instinctively, she draped her thigh over his hip. She swallowed roughly after making that adjustment. Her pussy throbbed about that rooted cock. Dave left her sore but hungry for another round.
"Mmmmm," he muttered against her neck. His lips rippled over the flesh.
His nibbling had a powerful effect on her libido. Completely revitalized, she wiggled against his muscular frame. Curving herself, she raised her nipple so that it was within range of his mouth.
Dave came down upon it just as he sank the outstanding portion of his cock into her waiting snatch. He could feel the satisfied murmur of her body as it swallowed him. .His bulk plunged into that quivering hole. Her juicy clench caused his Adam's apple to wave. His balls twisted at her juicy entrance, prompting that he could go no further. Monopolizing significant space, he was in the uppermost region of her cunt.
Diane stroked his balls while he fucked her. Dave displayed enthusiasm. His dick went far in her hot channel. His muscled thighs held her thighs widely apart. Gritting her teeth, she raggedly exhaled. She watched him bury it, grinding his trunk to her pink borders. The resulting crunch sent a shiver through her system. Through relaxation, she managed to fit that totally rigid cock. Enclosing him in entirety brought profuse satisfaction.
Her caress precipitated a hoarse struggle for air. Shaking, he endured her delicate sweep. Those fingertips passing over his balls disbursed jarring voltage. In retort, he tunneled into the foot of that blonde fluff. "I love the way you squeeze it," he uttered after smashing himself to her sodden core. "Oh, yeah. Work that cock. Make it squirt."
Diane's delirium steadily rose. That poking member wrought a fever. She could feel the tingling warmth extend to her toes.
Dave abruptly added to the clamor. Smoothing a hand over her abdomen, he gravitated to her clit. Lightning hurtled through her body. He began jiggling that solid button while stuffing her pussy with cock. His finger stirred up a heat storm.
"Ohhhh," she moaned, losing it. She tore at his hand, but its grip on her snatch was nonnegotiable. Shivering and gulping, she aborted the effort. "Fuck me, baby," she panted, pushing her juicy cunt at him. She snapped up his shaft in hungry mouthfuls. Except for his protruding portion, her pussy covered him. "Oh, yeah. Fuck me good."
Dave studied her gorgeous profile. Her bottom lip trembled. Diane's glassy eyes informed him of her impending orgasm. The tremor in her body served as further verification. He doubted he could survive another of her riddling bouts. The urge to explode was too potent to defy.
"I'm almost there," she squealed, pelting him with her mound.
He fed it to her as desired. Their flesh smacked together in lush abundance. Her clit rolled moistly beneath his fingertip, yielding to the mounting pressure. He sensed the tightening of her muscles.
"Ohhhh," she squealed, at the pinnacle of joy. "Ohhhh. I'm cumming."
Dave poured hot jism into her absorbent snatch within seconds of her convulsion. He lurched behind her, ridding himself of that viscous burden. His handsome face was transformed into a contorted mask while creaming in that puckering hole.
He brushed her lips and whispered. "That was the best farewell fuck I've ever had."
Diane shivered. "You can't mean that."
"I needed that last taste of you-just as you needed that of me."
"There's no hope of fixing things?"
"I'm afraid not."
Diane sighed. Her curiosity had destroyed the most satisfying relationship of her existence. Dave's grave features made no provision for bargaining.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Diane paid a visit to the Orgy Room that next evening. After a few weeks of being with one man, resuming old habits felt strange. Many of the faces-and bodies-hadn't changed much, but her enthusiasm for them wasn't nearly the same. She supposed, to some extent, the Club was a painful reminder of a romance gone bankrupt. Realizing that Dave was behind its creation put a spin on her outlook.
Dave had been extremely generous in his settlement. To buy her silence, he offered a free membership to the Club for life. All he required was her unconditional silence. That, she immediately pledged. His gift was appreciated, but unnecessary. She would have kept his secret, praying there was a slim chance of reconciliation. Dave, unfortunately, gave no hope of reviving their affair.
Diane remained optimistic. A hopeless romantic, she predicted bumping into Dave at the Club as she had in the past. Perhaps a night of unrestrained passion would reignite the spark.
As the hands swooped at her to relieve Diane of clothing, she descended into a previous frame of mind. The dance of fingertips on her bare flesh was far more pleasant than she envisioned. A mouth alighted her nipple and pleasurably sucked her. She tilted her head back, enjoying its sweet pull.
She was glad to have returned to the Club. After a stormy relationship, she-likened it to a safe harbor. Its people were sheltered from the world's insanity.
As her last article was removed, she noticed an incredibly handsome man with dark blond hair. A brunette hovered possessively at his side. She seemed reluctant to surrender him.
At once, Diane recognized her. She and that voluptuous Italian had been together in the past. Diane recalled her honeyed taste with a shiver. She had ridden her face in this very room.
Of course, The Club upheld a rule that did not work in the Italian's favor. Whoever went to the Orgy Room consented to sex without reservation. If Diane wanted that blond stud, she was entitled to him-pure and simple.
Monica fumed at the curvaceous blonde luring Greg. She didn't want to share him. It wasn't even her idea to come-he insisted.
Greg gradually made it known he didn't hold great affection for her. Going to the Club was infinitely more important than spending a night in her bed. The thrill of multiple partners exceeded anything she could provide.
She watched on in misery as Greg went to that blonde wench. It was, for Monica, a low point. Their relationship had hit rock bottom.
Diane gloated into Greg's arms. Leaning against her, he took refuge in her nape. A steady sob rose from the pit of her throat. She felt hunger rage through her body. All remembrance of Dave faded. The blond, she deemed, her savior.
Greg trailed wet, refreshing kisses to her jawbone. Encompassing one of her tits with his hand, he used his club-like thumb to stimulate her nipple. Beneath his leisurely rotation, it swelled.
Diane's beautiful face shimmered before him. The magnetism of her mouth drew him. Unable to ignore it, he surrendered to the impulse. His tongue provoked hers. Another sob sprang from her depths. Her arms strongly wrapped about him. She smashed her bush to him. Her silken pubes afforded a potent charge.
Greg's cock thickened during their heated embrace. Coming in contact with that sweet mouth and soft-skinned body precipitated that response. He groaned as it inched against her velvet texture. When enlarging against her silken nest, he quivered.
Hands came at them from all directions. Greg loved being touched from every side. It enhanced each encounter.
Monica was consigned to obscurity. He failed to pay her any notice. The sensational blonde captured his full attention. At the moment, he wanted all he could obtain of her.
Diane moaned as Greg dragged her beneath him. She sensed his urgency-especially with his swollen member beating against her stomach. Despite her disheveled thoughts, her legs automatically curved about his waist. His brusque movements were cherished. She craved male authority in all its predatory wonder.
Greg smothered her in hot, excitable kisses. Caught up in that splendor, Diane writhed beneath him. She gave herself over to those demanding lips and diverting tongue. Greg exercised care in placing the brunt of his weight on his elbows while aligning himself to her pussy. He was otherwise positively insistent about fucking her.
Diane felt the plump knob of his cock make its entrance. Her heart raced as he fit himself into that slick channel. "Ohhhh," she moaned, adjusting to its cumbersome size. Greg pushed more of himself into her cunt, occupying considerable space. He lowered his hard dick into wet, grabbing pussy. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. "Oh, God. Ohhhh."
"Jesus, are you tight," he murmured in her ear. He inched through succulent layers of hot squish. "I've got to get inside your pussy."
Shutting her eyes, she allowed him to gain purchase of that chasm. Greg made the most of her every concession. He crammed that monster into her moist pussy. "Ohhhh. Oh, yeah." She swung toward it and moaned. Its gradual entry plucked the air from her lungs.
"Yeah, baby," he groaned, driving. "Let me bury myself in you."
After one final shove, they were fully joined. Greg didn't resume normal breathing for a few seconds. The ecstasy of planting himself to the hilt was unimaginable. He strained against her voluptuous body, groaning from the fast seal of her cunt. Her slippery folds were firmly latched to him. His cock was trapped in hot pulp.
Greg savored the tongues that flitted between his thighs. He loved getting licked right after having stuck his cock in someone. His balls received a tingling coat of saliva. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the rush.
Diane similarly basked in the oral relief extended her. She moaned as someone traced the lips of her expanded pussy. The juices flowed from her liquefied center, lubricating Greg's cock.
Diane's eyes seemed translucent while Greg kept his thick base level with her sodden rim. She appeared at the height of intoxication, rolling her head from side to side. Greg, firmly entrenched, began pumping the orifice he dominated. Slicing into hot cunt, then uprooting from it, Greg savored her affectionate tug. Gladly, she made room for him in that narrow channel. From the sound of it, she wanted him there, too. Her cunt made sloppy noises from his sawing action. Back and forth he went, listening to those slippery folds greedily attach. His skin gathered in a knot before that section of his cock disappeared into that warm hole. Her pussy gave him exactly the satisfaction he craved.
"Fuck me," Diane wailed, fucking him back. She rocked her snatch to him. "Ohhhh. Oh, yeah. Give it to me, baby. Shove it into my pussy."
Greg made Diane moan with his cock. He sank into that moist pulp, enjoying its deep, slimy kiss. Watching her grimace while shafting her nearly got him off. Her facial reactions offered a powerful stimulant. He jammed his dick to capacity, having those massaging cunt lips do their squeaky work.
Rapturous sobs made their luxurious climb around them. People assumed all kinds of positions. Three-ways were almost routine. Some connected for a while, then switched partners. The Orgy Room made provisions for nearly every preference.
The longer Greg stuck his cock into that juicy socket, the hornier he got. Pinning down Diane's curvaceous form and pounding it up her middle enormously satisfied him. He stuffed that slippery glove with his throbbing member.
Diane moved her hips and ass to Greg's observable delight. The glazed pupils and labored exhalations reflected his transport. Purring, she raked his back with her nails. She traveled to those flexing buns while he went about pumping her, and drew loops. Greg, picking up the tempo, sent it to her via special delivery.
She loved having all that hot urgency building in her center. Greg had displaced Dave in terms of gratification. He made a sincere effort to get her off big time.
Diane's ass bounced against the mats with each thrust; her pussy returned to him with back-lashing force. She ground herself to his thick trunk in delectation.
"Ohhhh," she whimpered. His pummeling cock sent her into orbit. She relished the things it did to her. Fastening herself to its heavy bulk, she wept as it massaged her soaked interior. Just when she thought he was fully embedded, Greg pressed more of his large cock into her drenched orifice. There was a whole lot to fuck! His feral expression prompted a batch of steamy directives. "Harder, baby. Fuck me with all you've got. Jam me. I want to feel the animal in you."
Greg fully complied with her wish. He probed that wet snatch with his dick, smacking into her soft pubis. His balls provided one whack after another. Each wallop bombarded his senses. His lunging caused her to jerk and leap.
"Ohhhh," she sobbed, absorbing his rigid shaft. "Don't stop. Don't hold back." Her features contorted as he turned up the heat. She grazed her nails along his tensing buttocks. "Fuck me, baby. Fuck me good."
He winced from the juicy grab of her pussy. Its milking grip forever pleased him. Diane's fury did not relent. She flourished beneath his hard, punishing strokes. Her excitement was total.
Greg recognized his impending orgasm. There was little he could do to avert it. He was much too inflamed to dispel the hot churning in his balls. In a matter of seconds, he would succumb to that urge. His will power waned as that physical disturbance rapidly developed.
Diane gritted her teeth as Greg's hard thing dug into her. She took advantage of its rigid state and thrilling reach. Greg sent it far, aiming from her center. Her toes curled as she approached the culmination of his stunning efforts. A gratifying fusillade roared through her being.
She cried out, thrashing in abandon. "Oh, yes. I'm cumming! I'm cumming!"
Diane clutched his sweaty flesh while spasming. She constricted about his cock, adhering to its taut membrane. Shuddering violently, she rode out the last of her riddling pleasure.
When Greg removed his dick from her pussy, he left a creamy deposit that gushed from her vigorously pumped lips. Those tongues licking at their merged flesh gleefully collected the overflow. He shuddered as his orgasm-sensitive cock was slurped.
Diane purred from the silvery dabs. Mmmmm, she thought. She had come home, to the Club, where she belonged.
Monica left long before Greg reached orgasm. She couldn't tolerate another minute of his fucking that blonde. Misery overwhelmed her. Greg hadn't even glanced in her direction. That blonde had mesmerized him.
She had to admit, the competition in the Orgy Room was rather tough.
Although it pained her to regard it as such, the end had come for them. She could no longer accompany him to the Club. It ceased begin a sexual haven. For that moment forward, she would be solely reminded of its taking Greg.
Monica considered calling a cab upon emerging. Greg had driven them, but she had no desire to wait. Even if he showered, she would smell that blonde's scent. She couldn't look into those blue eyes without enduring a stab of pain.
The island of pay phones beckoned. She strode in that direction when the neon signs of the Juice Bar twinkled from the corner of her eye. An ice-cold refreshment would surely hit the spot.
The bartender was busy filling orders. While Monica tried catching his attention, a handsome older man walked to her side. Initially, she ignored him. Men routinely hit on her. Monica learned to spurn their advances. Only in the Orgy Room did she solicit such invitations.
She vowed never to return. She would let her membership lapse. In the morning, she would tender her resignation from the firm. Seeing Greg on a daily basis would hurt far too much.
The older man did not take the hint. "Can I buy you one?" he asked, brushing against her.
Her first inclination was to refuse. She felt much too vulnerable to accept a stranger's sympathy. There was something reassuring about him, however, at second glance. She couldn't quite describe the change that occurred inside her. It was as though he gave off pleasant vibrations. She sensed a kindred spirit in him.
"If you can get him," she murmured. "He's been monopolized at the end of the counter."
"I'll take care of that," he said. With a crisp snap of his fingers, he succeeded in commanding the bartender's attention. "A vegetable cocktail for the young lady."
Monica found herself contemplating him. He appeared to be in his mid-forties. A thin line of gray bordered his dark hair. The rugged planes of his face pronounced him an approachable character. His voice was a rich, masculine baritone. The beginning of an attraction slowly formed.
"You look as though you just broke up with your man," he commented after a moment's study.
"It just so happens that I did." She sipped her vegetable concoction. "How did you know."
"I can read minds."
Monica couldn't help smiling. The man easily elicited that response. "What other powers might you have?"
"I'd be glad to show you...if you have the time."
"That sounds like an open invitation."
"It is. I frequently come here. Do you?"
Monica recalled her vow of letting her membership expire. Running into Greg would be agonizing. "I did, but I'm afraid the cost is stretching my purse strings to the limit."
"That's a shame. An attractive young woman like yourself, unable to afford something as pleasurable as the Club? I'd say it was a crime."
"I've enjoyed it while it's lasted."
"Have you had dinner yet? I'd be honored if you could accompany me to that Italian restaurant down the road. It's within walking distance."
Monica weighed her options. She supposed accepting an innocent proposal from the man was far better than hoofing back it to her apartment. She did not relish the prospect of sulking for the balance of the evening. "That sounds wonderful."
"By the way," he said, extending his hand, "I'm Dave Fairweather."
"Monica Collana," she said, returning his grip-He grinned. "I'm sure we'll become good friends... . "
