T19 The Club {Titmouse} (MF,MF)
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WARNING NOTICE:
The following story is erotic fiction and includes
descriptions of explicit sex. If you are a minor or
if such things may offend you, quit reading now.
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The Club
by Titmouse
(C)1998, All Rights Reserved
1. Introduction to the Club
The Club had several levels, although even many of
those who had visited several times knew only of the
first two. The first level was the public bar, open to
all, with a DJ and dance floor. The second, also open
to the public but requiring a $5 admission, was a
topless bar featuring some of the most beautiful women
in the city. Both levels were busy on weekdays and
packed on weekends.
To enter the second level, you paid the bouncer at
the bottom of the stairs, walked up the stairs to the
bouncer who guarded the top, and entered the lounge
through a set of doors. The second door opened only
after the first was closed, allowing a maximum of four
people to enter at a time. Inside was a central pit of
tables ringed by three stages, with a bar along the
fourth wall. Dancers rotated from stage to stage,
pausing between sessions to work the crowd of mostly --
although not exclusively -- male patrons.
Raunchy music, perfectly suiting the hip-grinding,
tit-shaking needs of the dancers, pounded constantly,
making conversation difficult except in the brief pauses
between numbers. When the girls talked to customers, it
was necessary to lean in close to hear. Since this
provided a look down already low-cut cleavages, everyone
tried to think of things to say to the circulating women
-- not that they were hard to talk to. It was part of
the job.
To enter higher levels, you had to be a member of
the Club, innocuously named the Management Training
Association of Los Angeles. This required payment of
the $25 annual membership fee, a careful ID check, and a
signed statement affirming, among other things, that you
were not associated with any law enforcement agency.
Once a membership card with picture was issued,
entrance to the Back Room was free, although few left
without spending considerable money on drinks and tips
for the dancers. Back Room dancers stripped all the
way, and the standards were even higher here than in the
outer lounge. All of the girls were drop-dead knockouts
and terrific dancers besides.
After midnight, the Back Room got really raunchy,
and the later it got, the raunchier it got. Not
satisfied with displaying themselves, the dancers
fondled their breasts and pussies, rubbed their clits,
and inserted fingers and other objects into themselves.
One girl was notorious for grabbing a customer's empty
longneck beer bottle (or even a partially empty one) and
sliding it first into her mouth and then into her
snatch. Another often brought a dildo with her.
There seemed to be dozens of girls working the Back
Room. You had to stay for several hours to see one
repeat. A careful observer would note that, after
working the Back Room's two stages and making a trip or
two around the tables, some of the girls would slip into
the dressing room and not reappear for an hour or two.
Sometimes, in the brief lull beween songs, you might
hear music from elsewhere in the Club. Most assumed it
was from one of the outer areas, but some members knew
better.
For there was yet another level to the Club.
Knowledge of its existence spread by word of mouth from
friend to friend, and no one was allowed to join without
a sponsor. The cost was $50 a year, but many paid it
gladly. There were additional requirements that, as a
condition of continued membership, nobody was allowed to
reveal in advance. To my knowledge, no one ever
violated this condition. I certainly won't.
Members of Level 4, as it was known, entered
through the door marked 'Manager' at the end of the hall
where the restrooms were located. The door was locked,
but it would be opened if you knocked the right way.
Inside, a team of bouncers checked your identification
carefully and, if you passed, allowed you through yet
another door that led to a stairway. Descending two
flights, you found another final door that led to the
club area know as the Basement, since that was where it
was located.
The Basement made the Back Room look tame. It had
only one stage, but the only dance performed there was
nature's oldest. Live sex shows took place every two
hours on weekends, and they got dirtier and more
elaborate as the evening got later. Between shows, porn
flicks were projected on two large screens at either
side of the room.
Meanwhile, bare-breasted women circulated among the
tables (distinct from the waitresses, who were equally
good looking but dressed in various revealing costumes).
The topless ones were the same women who performed on
the stage (and sometimes in the movies). After a show,
the girl would disappear to tidy up and repair their
makeup, then emerge to join the parade. All of them
were friendly and would often chat with customers for
several minutes before moving on. If you were nice and
friendly and not too pushy, you might wind up with one
on your lap. If you tipped them, they might offer to
let you touch their gorgeous breasts or even suckle
briefly on a nipple. Sometimes they touched you back.
There was another popular entertainment that ran
throughout the night. Special waitresses sold numbered
tickets from a double roll for $5 each, and you could
buy as many as you liked. The matching halves were
deposited in a large glass urn and a running total was
entered. When the total hit $250, the Basement's
manager, a handsome man in evening clothes, would switch
a spotlight to the pedestal where the urn rested and
call up one of the bare-breasted women. She would reach
into the urn and select a ticket at random, handing it
to the manager to read into his microphone.
The lucky winner was escorted by the girl through a
door next to the urn and taken to a room where, within
reason, he could do anything he wanted with her for as
long as he lasted. After a ticket was selected, the
manager dumped out the tickets and started the counter
at zero again. The winner was almost always present to
collect his prize. It was rarely necessary to draw a
second ticket, since few who bought tickets left before
the next drawing.
The drawings were, naturally, very popular, since
you might win a session with a gorgeous woman for as
little as $5. By the time the half-hour sex show was
over (it was never interrupted for drawings) two or
three times the necessary amount might accumulate. In
these cases, contributions would be cut off at the next
multiple of $250, and a series of girls would draw for
winners. On a good night, there might be 20 or more
drawings in the course of the evening.
Of course, you didn't have to wait for a winning
ticket. All the performers were available for private
sessions. The price was a flat $250, and it bought you
almost anything and everything. Some members had
special needs, and not every girl was willing to meet
them. But you could always switch to someone more
amenable. If the one you chose declined, she would
politely do her best to find someone who would. When
there was more than one possibility, you could even see
a picture of her on the TV screen in each of the girl's
rooms. (When not being used for such special purposes,
the screens played continuous x-rated movies.)
Many of the members of this inner circle speculated
about whether further levels of the Club existed beyond
the Basement. There were many theories of what such
additional levels might offer, but no one seemed to
know. Still, we talked about it among ourselves. If
there were additional levels, some of those in the
Basement surely knew of it. Someday, one of them might
be prepared to let you in on the secret.
2. The Show is On
I had joined Level 4 the previous week, thanks to
sponsorship from my friend, Ted, who had been a member
for several months. My membership card arrived in
Wednesday's mail, and I was eager to try it out. I
called Ted, and we arranged to meet in the bar at 9 p.m.
on Friday night.
After a few moment's conversation, we went up the
stairs to the topless club and headed for the restrooms.
Nobody paid any attention to us, not with dancers on
stage. Ted knocked on the door marked "Manager" and we
were admitted. Our membership was checked again by one
bouncer and then we were passed through the other door
by a second. We walked down the two flights of stairs
and entered the Basement.
The stage was empty as we entered, and a sex movie
was being projected on two walls. Over at the pedestal
where the urn for tickets sat, the tote board was
flashing "$250," and the floor manager was walking
toward it, accompanied by a slim Asian girl wearing
bright blue hot pants and matching high heels. Her bare
breasts were large for her small size, and I suspected
they had been enhanced. A spotlight tracked them across
the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the floor manager
announced, presumably including the waitresses and
working girls since there were no female customers, "we
have reached the magic $250 mark for the third time this
evening. To perform the honors, would you please give a
nice Basement welcome to Miss Tina, one of our newest
performers."
There was a round of applause for the very pretty
girl which included hoots and catcalls of various kinds.
Tina appeared to be barely into her 20s. When the
noise died down, the floor manager continued.
"Now as soon as I mix these tickets..." he said,
reaching into the urn and turning the contents over a
handfull at a time, "we'll have our drawing. Miss
Tina," he said, stepping back, "would you please select
a ticket."
Standing on her tiptoes and looking at the
audience, the girl reached over the rim, stirred the
contents again and, frowning with concentration, chose
and withdrew a ticket stub. She handed it to the floor
manager.
"And the winner is... two, oh, one, six, three"
read the floor manager. Throughout the room, heads were
bowed as customers studied their tickets. He repeated
the number and asked, "Do we have a winner?"
A tall man with curly blond hair at a table near
the stage raised his hand, stood up and started walking
toward the floor manager and the girl. He was grinning
from ear-to-ear. When he reached them, he handed his
ticket to the floor manager who compared it to the
ticket that had been drawn and then smiled.
"We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen!" he
announced. He and Tina each took one of the man's hands
and raised them in victory. "Congratulations, sir!" the
floor manager said. "Miss Tina, would you please escort
our winner to your studio."
Still clutching the man's hand, Tina led him off
through the door next to the pedestal. The man, who
towered over her by more than a foot, was blushing
furiously as he disappeared through the door, sent off
with a round of applause and shouts of "Good luck!" and
"Go get her!"
"And now, friends, back to the action!" the manager
cried enthusiastically. He tilted the urn over, dumping
the remaining tickets onto the floor. Then, he pressed
a button on the side of the tote board, resetting the
display to zero.
After that example, Ted had no difficulty
persuading me to buy a ticket when the waitress came to
take our drink orders. We each bought two, in fact. As
she left our table, the waitress passed by the urn,
dropped in the other halves of our tickets and pressed a
button four times, adding $20 to the $35 that was
already recorded. By the time she returned with our
drinks, the total was up to $95.
It was quite a charge, I have to tell you, to sit
there sipping at a drink and watch the goings-on. The
adult movie had resumed, and it was showing an orgy
involving two women and three men who kept switching
partners and positions and combinations as the movie
progressed. Meanwhile, waitresses and "performers"
circulated around the room.
The waitresses would have been a sufficient
attraction anyplace else. They were all pretty and
dressed in a variety of costumes -- belly dancers,
maids, swimsuits, and such -- all of which featured
plunging necklines and push-up bras. But the performers
put them to shame, such that you wouldn't even bother to
look at a waitress unless she was bending over your
table.
All the working girls were topless, and their tops
were well worth revealing. They came in a variety of
colors from milk white to ebony and all the tans
between. Below the waist, their costumes varied except
in being short and tight, exposing long legs (and
sometimes more) that ended in stilt-high heels.
One girl, Karin, stopped to talk with us. She was
wearing red hot pants and heels, with a gold choker
necklace. Her skin was a deep tan color, her areolas
somewhat darker and tipped with still darker nipples,
both of which were pierced by small gold loops. She was
Persian, she said, and her family had fled Iran just as
the revolution started, when she was little more than a
baby.
We had only been talking a few minutes, however,
when a soft gong sounded. Karin looked over toward the
floor manager's stand and saw that a small, red bulb was
lit.
"'Scuse me," she said, smiling at Ted and me. "I'm
on next."
We watched Karin walk to the side of the room and
slip through the same door used by Miss Tina and the
most recent raffle winner. A few minutes later, the
porno movie was switched off and the room lights were
lowered until only the floor manager, illuminated by a
spotlight, was visible.
"Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention
please. The Basement is proud to present a little
performance for your enjoyment. Now appearing on our
main stage, would you please give a rousing Basement
welcome to Miss Karin and her companion, Studley Dan!"
The spotlight winked out and the stage lights came
on, revealing the red velvet curtain that was rapidly
opening. It revealed a woman's boudoir, or at least the
suggestion of one. A large canopied bed occupied the
center of the stage. At one side was a woman's vanity
and seated before the large mirror on a bench was Miss
Karin, wearing a filmy negligee over a light blue
babydoll nightie. Karin was brushing her hair, which
made her ample breasts stick out prominently and bob
back and forth with her motions.
Karin seemed to notice them herself, for she
stopped, laid down the brush and, lacing her fingers
behind her neck, jutted her chest forward and waggled
her shoulders to make her breasts shift back and forth
on her chest. After entertaining herself in this manner
for a few moments, Karin dropped her hands to her tits.
She cupped one in either hand and began to lift, knead
and pull on them.
In the "outside" window on the other side of the
stage room, the figure of a man appeared, although I was
never certain whether he had moved there or whether my
eyes had simply adjusted to the availabe light. In any
case, the man was enjoying the show Karin was puting on
for us. He watched as she massaged her own breasts.
After doing so for a while, she slipped a hand under her
shortie nightgown and moved it up to resume kneading it.
Karin let her head fall back, eyes closed, while she
worked on herself.
Her other hand dropped to stroke and then scratch
at her thighs. A short time later, Karin slipped this
hand under her nightgown, too, but instead of raising it
to her other breast, she pushed it down into her panties
and began to stroke herself there. The man outside also
dropped a hand to his middle and began to rub his prick
through his pants.
Karin continued to massage her tit and pussy for a
while, her head back and her mouth open, making little
moaning sounds and whimpers that were faintly audible.
Gradually, the intensity of her movements and the sounds
she was making rose in a slow crescendo.
Just when Karin was moaning louder, her hand making
rapid circles inside her panties, the man hidden outside
suddenly grasped the bottom of the window and threw it
up. Wasting no time, he already had a leg over the
window sill by the time Karin reacted to the sound of
the window. Ducking his head, he jumped into the room.
Karin let out a shriek, pulled her hands out of her
panties and from under her nightgown and jumped to her
feet. Looking frantically from side to side but having
nowhere to run, Karin moved to put the bed between her
and the intruder.
The man was tall and white, with dark hair and big
shoulders. He was tall, over six feet, and almost
handsome except for a nose that was too wide and a mouth
that was too small. He began to stalk her, moving
sideways around the bed. Karin matched him, keeping the
bed between them.
"Don't be difficult," he said. "I don't want to
hurt you. I just want to give you what you were
thinking about." Karin said nothing, just kept her eyes
on the man and circled around the bed.
He tried to dash around it and catch her, but she
was as quick as he was. The intruder could not get
close enough to grab her, although he came close twice,
the last time when he suddenly stopped and reversed
direction. His fingers actually grazed the negligee
that billowed out behind Karin, but he could not get a
grip on it.
Finally, the man stopped and bent over, one hand on
the bed, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Then,
suddenly, he leaped across the bed, stretching out and
reaching for Karin. He got a hand on her thigh, just
above her knee, but she tore lose from his grasp,
leaving the man sprawled across the bed.
Taking advantage of his momentary immobility, Karin
spun around and raced for the door. She almost made it,
too, but the door opened inward and she had to pull it
open instead of bursting through it. The man recovered
quickly, jumped after her, and caught Karin just as she
started through the doorway.
"GOD DAMMIT!" he roared, grabbing her roughly
around the neck and flinging her backward into the room.
She reeled off balance toward the center of the room,
bumped into the bed and sat down awkwardly. The man
slammed the door and leaped after her. Karin tried to
jump up, but the man was too quick for her. As she was
pushing to her feet, the intruder reached her and
unleashed a roundhouse slap that cracked across her
cheek, spun her around and dumped her onto the bed. (It
was a fake slap, of course, but it looked real.)
"That'll teach you, bitch!" the man snarled. Karin
tried to push up from the bed, shaking her head in an
attempt to clear it. The man grabbed the back of her
negligee at her neck and pulled strongly. It ripped
away, most of it coming away in the man's hand. One of
the sleeves remained around Karin's arm.
"Stay put or I'll have to hit you again," the man
growled. Karin ignored his warning and tried to crawl
away from him across the bed. He grabbed her by the
arm, spun her around, and slapped her face again. She
felt back, momentarily stunned.
The man reached down quickly, grabbed the nightgown
near the neck and gave a strong tug. The material gave,
tearing partway down her front and revealing a glimpse
of Karin's breasts. He slid his hand down the tear and
yanked again, this time completing the job. The
nightgown parted all the way to the hem. Karin's dark
tan body was revealed, naked under the torn gown except
for the matching light blue panties. The gold hoops
that pierced her nipples gleamed in the spotlight.
"I warned you," the intruder snarled. "Now, do
what I say if you know what's good for you." Karin was
crying, an arm thrown across her face. The man reached
down and grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a
sitting position. With his other hand, he reached down
and pawed at her breasts.
"Take my cock out, bitch," the man growled. When
Karin hesitated, he yanked on her hair. Karin was
weeping. Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her hands to
the man's pants and began to fumble with his zipper.
She tugged it down.
"Go ahead, bitch," the man ordered. "Take it out."
Karin inserted a hand through the open fly. Using
her other hand to move material out of the way, she
pulled the man's tool out. The head emerged first. It
was large enough that Karin's hand could not wrap all
the way around it. She pulled on it, guiding it into
view. More and more of it emerged. She pulled again
and even more slid into view, drawing a gasp from some
members of the audience.
It was obviously a huge cock, although it was only
half erect. Even as we watched, it swelled in Karin's
hand, extending outward and raising up. It had to be
nearly a foot long. Karin shrank backward from the
sight of it.
"Where do you think you're going?" the man growled.
"I want you to suck my cock." Karin shook her head no,
then ducked when the man raised his hand to strike her
again. "Do it, bitch," he snarled, "or I'll make you
wish you had."
Slowly, Karin turned her head back toward the
mammoth prick. The man still had her by the hair, and
he used his handhold to draw her toward him. He pulled
her forward until the end of his dick bumped against her
closed mouth.
"Open up, you cunt," the man said. "Suck it for
me. I want you to do a good job on me." He yanked on
her hair again for emphasis.
Reluctantly, Karin's lips parted around the head of
the enormous fucktool. We could see it stretch her jaws
wide as the head, which seemed to swell at the contact,
pushed into her mouth. Karin's eyes bulged as she
strained to take it in.
"Come on," the man ordered. "Use your tongue!
Lick it good, bitch. Suck on it!" He hunched his hips
forward a little, pushing more of his tool into Karin's
mouth. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed
her hair on the other side. Then, using his double
handhold, he began to push and pull on her head, moving
her mouth back and forth on his cock. Karin tried to
protest, but all that emerged around the mouthful of
prick was an inarticulate cry of discomfort.
"Why should I be doing all the work?" the man
complained. "Take hold of it with your hands, bitch.
Come on, you do some of the work!"
As much in self defense as anything, Karin raised
her hands to the massive prick that was attempting to
push down her throat. The shaft was so large that her
fingers did not quite join around it. The length of the
thing was also clearly revealed. Karin was gripping it
in both hands like a baseball bat, and there was still a
considerable extent on either side.
Although she couldn't really slide her mouth back
and forth on the man's cock, Karin was able to do a
better job now that she had control of it. She slid her
hands up and down on the shaft and twisted her head
around on the knob at the end of it. This seemed to
satisfy her attacker, as he stood there quietly for the
moment, sometimes watching Karin closely as she worked
on his tool, sometimes throwing his head back and
savoring the feeling as she manipulated it with her
mouth and hands.
After a minute or two, however, he stepped back,
pulling his prick away from her.
"That's enough of that! Now, lay back on the bed."
He shoved Karin roughly on the shoulder.
"No, PLEASE!" she begged, raising up on one arm.
"Don't, please! Let me make you cum that way. Don't
put it in me! Please! I can't take it. It's too big!"
"Shut up, bitch!" the man ordered, shoving her down
onto her back. "You'll take it and like it. But first
I'm going to eat some of your pussy!"
He reached out, grabbed the waist of her panties,
and dragged them down Karin's legs. She kicked at him,
but that actually helped rather than hindering him in
getting them off her. He dodged her kick easily, pulled
the panties over her feet, and tossed them to one side.
"Spread 'em, babe, and let me kiss your sweet
pussy," he ordered. "If you don't, I'll just shove this
cock in you now, and you know that's gonna hurt you
worse."
Karin didn't spread her legs for him, but neither
did she resist when he put his hands on her knees and
pushed them apart. The man knelt beside the bed between
her legs and shoved his face into Karin's middle,
extending his tongue to probe into her even before his
face reached her pussy. She jerked as his tongue wormed
its way into her. The man grabbed her by the hips to
hold her still and began to lick and flick and gnaw at
her.
At first, Karin just lay there, an arm over her
face, while the man nuzzled her private parts. But
soon, like it or not, it began to get to her. Her arm
dropped away and she arched her back. Her hips moved
involuntarily, shifting restlessly and sporadically from
side to side at first, then slowly begin to move more
rhythmically. She began to push her pussy up to the
invading tongue, accepting it, enjoying it despite
herself, slowly becoming aroused by the continuous
attack on her pussy.
But her attacker was not much concerned with giving
Karin pleasure. Satisfied that she was wet enough to
accommodate his massive prong, he pulled back and stood
up, leaving her lying there, legs apart, her raven-
haired pussy gleaming. With a quick move, he unfastened
the top button of his pants and pushed them down to his
ankles.
His naked cock was even more impressive now that
clothing no longer masked the base of it. Rampantly
erect, it stood out from his body, although its length
made it droop from the horizontal. Pushing at Karin's
knees, he moved her back on the bed to make room for
him, coincidentally positioning her so that the audience
had a clear view.
The man crawled between Karin's legs, pushing her
knees wide apart, and nudged her pussy with his
cockhead.
"Put it in, bitch," he ordered, grabbing one of
Karin's arms by the wrist and pushing it down toward her
middle.
"No, please," she pleaded. "It's too big! It'll
split me apart."
"Don't give me any crap," the man snarled. "I'm
going to fuck you whether you like it or not. Now do as
I say. PUT IT IN!" He slapped her shoulder for
emphasis.
Reluctantly, Karin reached down between them and
grasped his pussy-sticker. She guided it to her notch,
rubbing the purple head between the lips of her pussy to
lubricate it before pushing it downward to the entrance
of her cocksheath.
With a grunt, her attacked shoved his hips forward
and drove his tool into her opening, lodging the massive
head in her funnel. Karin shrieked and tried to pull
away, but the man grabbed her hips and held her in
place. He hunched his hips downward again and forced
another inch into channel.
"Hold still, you cunt," he growled. "You can take
it. Don't make me hurt you any more than necessary."
He pulled back slightly and then slammed forward again,
then again and again. Each shove of the rampant
cuntsticker brought another cry from Karin, her head
whipping back and forth. Now well lodged in her pussy,
the man let go of Karin's hips and grabbed her wrists,
pinning her to the bed.
His huge pole was now about half way into her, but
a considerable length remained visible between their
bodies. Leaning forward and getting his weight on it,
Karin's assailant drove his cock downward and into her
body. She struggled against the intrusion, kicking her
legs and trying futilely to pull her wrists free from
the man's grasp, but to no avail. Slowly, steadily, the
swollen shaft sank into her pussy.
He couldn't get it all into her. When he hit
bottom, causing Karin to cry out in sharp pain, there
was perhaps two inches still outside. After hammering
at her several times in an effort to push the remainder
into her, the man gave up, pulled back and still back
until only the head was in Karin's battered channel,
then roughly shoved it all the way back into her until
it struck bottom again. Eyes closed, a look of
exquisite pleasure on his face, her assailant began to
stroke in and out of her tightly stretched fuckhole.
Tiring of this after a minute, the man pulled back
and slid his tool out of Karin's pussy. Resting on his
knees, he grabbed one of her arms and dragged it across
her body, turning her onto a shoulder.
"Get on your knees, bitch," he ordered roughly. "I
want to fuck you from behind."
He continued to push and pull at Karin while she
slowly complied. When she was on her hands and knees,
he moved up behind her and, putting a hand on her neck,
pushed her head down toward the bed. When her ass was
elevated to his satisfaction, he grabbed his tool in one
hand and guided it back to Karin's gaping snatch,
keeping the other hand on her back to hold her in
position.
When the head of his cock was lodged into the
entrance, the man moved both hands to Karin's hips and,
tugging backward on them while hunching forward with his
hips, drove his tool into her pussy again. Karin, her
face turned toward the audience, winced and whimpered as
the fat mantool was driven into her body.
"Ahhhh," the man sighed, "that's better. Now, get
ready for the ride of your life. And don't just lie
there, you bitch. Fuck me back!"
He began to sling his cock in and out of her, then,
setting a rapid pace as he plowed her furrow. After he
slapped Karin's ass loudly, she began to move with him,
rolling her hips languorously around and around the pole
that was sliding in and out of her pussy.
"Oh, yeah, babe, that's a lot better," the man said
through gritted teeth. "Yeah, just like that. Fuck it!
Give me that pussy! Come on, bitch. Work at it!"
It was clear from his moans and from the
increasingly rapid thrusts that the man was going to cum
soon. His ass was flying back and forth as he whipped
his massive tool into Karin's pussy. His head was
thrown back and his mouth was open in a silent cry of
pleasure.
"Ahhh, fuck it. Fuck it. That's it. Come on,
give it to me. Give me that tight pussy. Oh, shit.
I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna shoot it. Keep on. Don't
stop. Fuck me! Yes! Yes! That's it. I... yes...
I'm... I'm CUMMMMMING!"
With a shout, the man jerked his cock out, grabbed
it in one hand and began jacking it off. Cum shot out
of the tip, arching up in spurts over Karin's ass and
spattering onto her back. Guiding the head back to her
pussy, he shoved his tool up her, once again burying it
as deeply as possible into her.
Karin's legs slowly collapsed, her knees sliding
backward as she gradually spread out on the bed. The
man followed her down, keeping his cock deep in her
channel. He arched his back, holding his upper body
away from her, supporting himself on stiffened arms.
Suddenly, the stage lights went out, and the
spotlight picked up the floor manager at his station.
Applause began slowly but then mounted quickly to
thunder through the room. The floor manager shouted
"Ladies and gentlemen... Miss Karin and Studley Dan!"
and the stage lights came back up to reveal the two
standing side by side, holding hands. Dan had pulled
his pants back up and Karin was wrapped in a green tunic
that belted at her waist and ended at mid-thigh. They
both bowed to the applauding room and the stage lights
went out again.
"Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," the floor
manager said as the applause died out. "We'll have
another show at midnight. Please enjoy yourselves until
then." The house lights came back up, and the porno
flick resumed where it had left off.
3. Luck of the Draw
Ted and I each took a swallow of our drinks, which
had sat there unnoticed during the entire performance.
"Wow," I said, "that was something. And you say
this goes on every night?"
"Just on Fridays and Saturdays," Ted replied, which
I already knew but had momentarily forgotten.
"Sometimes they have special events, but most weekdays
it's just the flicks and the raffle. And whatever else
you feel like buying."
"So all these girls are for hire?" I asked.
"Not the waitresses, but, yeah, they're all
available," Ted said.
We chatted over our drinks for the next few
minutes, glancing at the porno movie from time to time.
We were interrupted by the sound of a gong and the
dimming of the house lights again. The spotlight once
again picked up the floor manager who was striding
toward the platform where the urn of tickets waited; the
tote board beside it was once again flashing -- this
time with $500. Following close behind him were two
topless females -- a beautiful, tall black woman wearing
red hot pants and very high heels, and an equally
beautiful, somewhat shorter blonde dressed in an ice-
blue bathing suit bottom and platform sandals.
"Ladies and gentlemen, we've accumulated enough
raffle tickets for a double," the floor manager
announced. "Won't you welcome our two prizes -- Miss
Jennifer and Miss Andrea!" There was an enthusiastic
round of applause from the house as first the blonde,
then the black woman bowed as they were introduced.
Both were stunning. There was a rustle throughout the
room as members found their ticket stubs and prepared
for the drawing. I arranged my two tickets in front of
me.
The floor manager put his arm inside the urn and
stirred the tickets around. "Miss Andrea, would you
please draw a ticket?" he requested. The taller woman
reached a dark arm into the urn and quickly withdrew a
ticket, which she handed to the floor manager.
"The winning number is... two, oh, seven, one,
nine." He repeated the number and asked "Do we have a
winner present?"
I was staring in stunned silence at my two tickets
-- 20719 and 20720. I looked up at Ted, my mouth gaping
open.
"Don't tell me," he said. "You won on your FIRST
DRAWING?" I nodded numbly. He stuck his hand up and
waved at the floor manager. "Over here!" he called.
Then, quieter, he urged me, "Go on, dummy. Go get her!"
I stood and began to walk toward the floor manager,
clutching my ticket. Applause, catcalls and envious
looks surrounded me as I made my way to the front. When
I reached it, I handed my ticket to the floor manager,
who compared it to the one he had in his hand and then
gave me a big smile.
"YES!" he shouted, "we have our first winner!"
Holding the microphone against his chest to muffle it,
he said "Stand over there next to Miss Andrea, if you
would, sir, while we draw the second winner."
I walked toward the black woman, who held out her
hand to me and guided me to stand between her and the
floor manager. While he was having the other girl draw
a ticket, I looked more closely at the one standing next
to me. Her hair was long, straightened, and drawn back
into a tight ponytail. With high cheekbones and arched
eyebrows, she could have looked haughty, but she was
smiling widely, her generous red lips open to reveal her
white teeth. She was very beautiful.
Below the neck, she was equally gorgeous. Her
naked breasts were large but not excessively so,
projecting boldly from her chest and scarcely drooping
despite the lack of support. Otherwise, she was
slightly thin, and her torso tapered over her ribs to a
narrow waist. Her hips flared out from there, and her
ass was slightly enlarged as is common with black women.
The red hip-hugger shorts fit her tightly, the swell of
her pussy mound clearly evident between her muscular
thighs. Her long legs tapered downward, swelling nicely
at the calves. In her high heels, she was nearly as
tall as my own six feet, but I guessed her to be about
5'8" without them.
Meanwhile, the other girl, Jennifer, had drawn a
ticket and a second winner was on the way toward us. He
was short, dumpy and nearly bald, and I caught an amused
exchange of glances between the two women, in which
Jennifer ran her eyes down my own fairly well kept body,
then smiled ruefully at Andrea.
The fat man's ticket was quickly checked and
confirmed. The floor manager grabbed one of my hands
while Andrea took the other and Jennifer was doing the
same at the far end of our little line. They raised our
hands high in the victory salute.
"Congratulations, gentlemen!" crowed the manager.
"Enjoy yourselves over the next several minutes. Miss
Andrea, Miss Jennifer, would you please escort our
winners to your studios!" Jennifer led us through the
nearby door, pulling her winner behind her, followed by
Andrea and then me. Behind us, applause and shouts
rolled through the room, suddenly muffled by the closing
of the door.
Andrea took my hand with a smile and led me to the
second door on the left. Inside, the small room was
dark except for one red and one blue bulb, each inside a
small shade, that were located in opposite corners near
the ceiling. There was a queen-sized pallet on the
thickly-carpeted floor along one wall, a padded side
chair without arms, a dresser with various brushes and
cosmetics, and an alcove with sink next to a door into
her bathroom. The rest of the room, walls and ceiling,
were covered with panels of mirror.
"Come on over here, honey," Andrea said, leading me
to the alcove. "Now, just what did you have in mind?"
"Uh... I guess... uh..." I said, trying not to be
nervous but stuttering anyway, "how about a... a blowjob
and... then maybe just a straight lay to finish off?"
This was not the first time I had used a whore. It was
the second.
"Half and half," Andrea said. "You just get to cum
once, you know."
"Yeah," I said. "That's fine."
"Okay, honey," Andrea said, "let's get you cleaned
up. Unfasten your pants, okay?"
While I unbuttoned my pants and pulled the zipper
down, she turned to the sink and started hot water
running. I stood there feeling foolish while she tested
the water's temperature, pulled up on the lever that
lowered the stopper, and ran a couple of inches of water
into the basin, testing it with her fingers. She shut
off the water, picked up a washcloth and bar of soap,
and turned back to me.
"Pull your pants down, baby," she said smiling. "I
can't wash it through your shorts."
Feeling stupid, I pushed my pants and underwear
down over my butt to mid-thigh. My dick hung there
limply.
"Ooh, you got a nice one," Andrea said, and while I
didn't believe it was anything but part of her routine I
couldn't help feeling a little pleased. She took my
prick in her light tan palm and milked it, looking
carefully at the end for any sign of leakage.
Satisfied, apparently, she dropped the washcloth in
the basin, wrung it out, and turned back to me with a
small plastic basin in one hand. "Here," Andrea said,
"hold this under here." She positioned the basic under
my dick to protect my clothes and her floor and
proceeded to wash me with soap and water, then rinsed
out the washcloth in the basin and cleaned the soap off.
"There you go, honey, all nice and fresh for me."
Andrea took the basin from me and set it on the sink
counter. "Why don't you slip those pants off?" she
said, pointing toward the chair.
While I kicked off my shoes, then sat down and
pulled off socks, pants and underwear, Andrea quickly
tidied up the wash basin. We finished about the same
time, and she turned to find me watching her. Smiling,
she walked over and stood in front of me.
"Like what you see, baby?" she asked, putting a
hand under either breast and bouncing them gently with
her palms. Then, squeezing slightly, she ran her thumbs
down the tops, catching the nipples between thumb and
forefinger and pulling on them. "Oooh," she said, "I'm
in the mood myself. You're my first one tonight."
Andrea dropped her hands to her thighs and then ran
them up to either side of her mound, pressed inward, and
dragged her fingers along her pussy. "Um, yes," she
sighed, "I'm glad you wanted some pussy, not just a
blowjob. I'm definitely in the mood."
Her fingers move to the button on her hotpants.
Andrea popped the snap and pulled the zipper down.
Sliding her thumbs into the waist, she wriggled them
down over her generous hips, rocking from side to side
to help. My eyes were all over the room, watching her
reflection in the mirrors, then the real person in front
of me.
She was not wearing any panties. Her black, curly
bush was trimmed into a narrow, inverted triangle that
was small enough to hide under a bikini. The shorts
dropped around her ankles, and Andrea stepped out of
them daintily, still wearing her high heels. She
squatted down to pick up the shorts and tossed them onto
the dresser, then turned back to face me, hands on hips.
"Come on, honey," Andrea said. "It's okay to
touch." She jutted her hips toward me, making it clear
where she wanted me to touch. Obediently, I put my hand
on her leg and ran it up her thigh. When it bumped
against her pussy, I cupped my palm over her mound and
let my middle finger slide between the lips. She was
slippery, whether from natural or artificial
lubrication, and my finger went in easily. I pushed it
up her vagina as far as I could and wiggled it inside
her.
"Oooooh," Andrea moaned faintly, "that's the spot.
That's definitely the spot." She rolled her hips in a
circle, helping to work my finger inside her pussy.
Keeping her legs spread so that my hand had
unimpeded access to her crotch, Andrea leaned forward
and began to unfasten the button of my shirt. "Let's
get this off," she said, "so I can feel your chest
against my tits when you fuck me." She continued to
work her hips back and forth and around and around while
she unbuttoned my shirt. Her large lips were puckered
in a moue of sensuous enjoyment as her fingers worked
down my chest and over my stomach. "Yes, baby, yessss,"
she murmured, "that's right, push your finger in there.
I like that."
I dragged my finger forward over her clitoris and
was surprised to feel it prominently large, as big and
as firm as a child's fingertip. She jerked when I
flicked it and sucked in her breath. I had assumed that
Andrea's apparent arousal was just an act, part of her
professional services, but it's impossible to fake an
erect pleasure bump.
She slid her hands inside my shirt just under my
armpits and pushed inward, making my chest swell into
small tits, then leaned forward to lick and suck at my
nipples. I raised my other hand and cupped one of her
breasts, squeezing gently and pressing upward. Andrea
wriggled from side to side, moving her chest against my
full hand.
With a sigh, Andrea began to sink to her knees,
slowly pulling my finger out of her pussy and my hand
away from her breast. She knelt in front of me and
scooted forward between my legs. Her tits brushed my
thighs, the nipples hard and projecting. She lifted her
tits and laid them on top of my thighs.
"I believe you wanted me to suck on this thing a
while," she said, taking my cock in both hands. "I want
to get it good and hard so you can fuck me with it. I
like it hard and deep."
With her hands covering all but the head, Andrea
lowered her mouth to my dick. I watched her in the
nearest mirror, which showed the view from the side.
Opening her lips, she extended her tongue and licked the
underside like a lollipop several times. Then she
lowered her head more and took it into her mouth,
sucking hard enough to make her cheeks hollow while
working her tongue back and forth underneath and rocking
her head from side to side. I couldn't help giving a
little moan of appreciation.
"Oh, you like that, honey?" Andrea said, popping
her head off my prick. "Then you'll probably like this,
too." She put her mouth back around the head of my
dick, let go with both her hands, and in one smooth move
slid her tightly gripping lips all the way down the
shaft, taking my cock into her throat. She proved that
she had it all by working her lips at the bottom,
sucking on the base. Then, bending the stem downward so
that she could look upward and catch my eyes, she worked
her throat on the head, as if she was trying to swallow
it whole. Thank god it was still attached.
Sliding back up my cock until just the head was in
her mouth again, Andrea wrapped a hand around the shaft
and began to rock back and forth, keeping her fist close
to her lips so that mouth and hand formed one long tube.
Her slim, clutching fingers slid up and down my prick
and jacked me off into her mouth, the thumb sliding
along the underside all the way up to the twin bumps on
the bottom of my cockhead, while her tightly pressed
lips clamped my lovestalk and her tongue lashed back and
forth. It was wonderful, it was exquisite, it was as
good a blowjob as I had ever had. I'm afraid I moaned
again. And again.
Andrea slipped my prick out of her mouth and smiled
at me. "Now, don't get to liking it too much," she
said. "After all, you're supposed to put this
cuntsticker in my pussy and fuck me silly with it,
right?"
"Right," I groaned, sagging back in the chair.
Andrea used her hand to jack me off slowly, letting me
slow down some while continuing to send waves of
pleasure running through my body. She leaned in
occasionally to lick the knob of my cock, extending her
tongue all the way and lapping at it, giving it a flick
with the tip of her tongue.
Then, when I had backed away from the edge of
orgasm, Andrea moved forward again. Opening her mouth
wide, she slowly and carefully moved downward without
touching me at all until she reached her fist that was
still gripping the shaft. Then she closed her mouth
quickly, enveloping about half of it in a tightly
sucking tube of writhing mouth and tongue and slowly
pulled her head back, her hand sliding up along with it.
Once back up to the head, she started pumping her mouth
up and down my cock again, squeezing tightly with her
fingers as they slid up and down with it.
Finally, I could take it no more. I moved a hand
to her shoulder and touched it to get her attention.
"Stop," I said weakly when she looked up. "Help. Or
else..."
Andrea smiled around my cock and slowly,
sensuously, her tongue whipping back and forth, she
pulled her clasping mouth back off my prick, sliding her
hand off behind it.
"Are you ready for some pussy?" she asked. "Do you
wanna stick that lily-white cock of yours into my tight,
black honeypot?" Andrea rocked back onto her heels,
then stood up. She reached down and wrapped her hand
around my prick, pulling me gently toward her. "Come
on, baby, let's get on the bed and do some serious
fucking."
Leading me to pallet that occupied one side of the
room, Andrea urged me to sit down and lie back. "C'mon,
baby," she said, "you lay down on your back and let
Andrea get on top of you. I want some of that hard
white meat of yours. C'mon, sugar, let me fuck you."
I was happy to oblige. Flopping down on my back, I
folded the thin pillow in half and tucked it behind my
head. Andrea knelt beside me, then swung one leg over
mine like a rider mounting a horse. She pulled open the
top drawer of a small nightstand next to the pallet and
reached inside. When she pulled her hand back out, she
had something on her fingers -- apparently some
lubricant, because she moved her hand to her pussy and
worked her fingers in her snatch.
"Oooh," Andrea said, "maybe I'll just do myself
instead of fucking you." She closed her eyes and let
her head fall back while she continued to massage her
honeypot. My cock stuck up straight just in front of
her body, a pole of white flesh that stood out against
the background of her darker skin. "Naw," Andrea said
opening her eyes, "I guess I'd rather have that meat
pole inside me."
She pulled her hand out of her crotch and rubbed
her fingers on the head of my dick, wiping the lubricant
and pussy juices onto it. Then she moved forward on her
knees and raised up over me. Sliding her hand toward
the base of my prick, Andrea bent it downward and
pointed it at her cunt.
She lowered herself onto me gradually. I felt the
head of my cock nudge between the lips of her pussy and
slide backward into her notch. With a little hunch of
her hips, Andrea seated it in her fucktube, then began
to let herself down on me, swallowing more and more of
the shaft. Despite the lubrication and her natural
pussy juices, her channel was tight. It yielded to my
intruding stalk reluctantly.
When I was about half way in her, Andrea stopped
and raised up again until once again only the head of my
cock was seated in her lovebox. Sliding her hips back
and forth a few times, she worked my prick inside her
until it slid easily in and out. Then she pressed
forward again and slid all the way down onto it until
her mound pressed against my pubic bone.
"Oh, yeah, honey, that's what I wanted," Andrea
said. "Awww, get it all the way up in there, sugar.
Let me have it all."
I pushed up, tightening my buns and thrusting my
cock as far as possible up into her tightly grasping
cunt. I rolled my hips around, making it transcribe
circles up inside her pussy.
"Yes, lover, that's the way to please Momma,"
Andrea sighed. "Give me that fuckstick!" She raised
her hands, running them up over her ribs to cup her
tits, letting me fuck her from underneath. She slid her
thumbs down across the top of her breasts and pinched
the dark nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling
them back and forth.
I was as aroused as I had ever been. My prick felt
like a stick. I threw myself up into her fuckhole,
shoving it as deeply as possible, and rotating my hips
each time I hit bottom, grinding my pelvis against her
mound to massage her clit.
"Ooooh, shit!," Andrea exclaimed, "I almost never
cum, baby, but you're gonna make me do it. Ummm...
Ummm..." She shoved her hips down on me, trapping me
deep inside her, and began to swirl her pelvis around
and around, first one way, then the other.
"Oh, baby, Momma's gonna kick it!" she cried. She
thrust her hips forward, plunging me all the way into
her pussy and giving her maximum contact between my cock
and her clit. She started whimpering, meanwhile
hunching her hips up and down in short, strong jerk.
"Oh, yeah, baby... Ummm... Ummm... Oooh...
Ooooh... Oh, yessss... Just like that. Oh, God...
I'm... I'm... I'm cummmminnnng!"
Andrea threw herself forward onto me, pressing her
big, soft tits against my chest, whining and crying, her
body jerking in sudden jolts as her cum slammed through
her. Her head was pulled back, her face contorted into
a grimace, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. Then
she buried her face in my neck and bit me, hard enough
that I was afraid she would break the skin. She shook
like a dog throwing off water, a shudder that passed
down her back from her neck to her ass, her hips
whipping from side to side.
Just as she was about to push me over the edge,
Andrea let out a big sigh and collapsed onto me. She
went completely limp. She was too small for her weight
to be onerous, but she had gone completely slack on top
of me and might have slid off were it not for the flesh
pole that pinned her to my middle. I was still hard,
but the cessation of movement let me back off from my
own climax, which had been just moments away.
"Oooh, honey," Andrea said after a few moments,
"that was very, very nice. I haven't come like that in
way too long." She began sliding her pussy up and down
on me again, slowly and sensuously. I responded by
flexing my love muscle, making it swell inside her.
"Well," Andrea said, "now I gotta love you
especially good. I'm gonna make you come hard, baby.
I'm gonna make you blow your wad right up Momma's tight
little pussy."
She began to raise and lower herself with more
authority, shoving her hips forward with a convulsive
snap to drive her cunt down onto my cock, then rocking
her hips the other way and drawing back slowly, dragging
the bottom of her channel erotically along the sensitive
underside of the shaft. I started to move in response,
but Andrea sat up and put her hands and weight on my
hipbones, pinning me to the pallet.
"No, let me fuck you, baby," she said. "You just
lie there and get it. I'm gonna fuck you silly."
Pushing down against my hips, Andea raised her hips
until once again only the head of my cock was inside
her. She twirled her hips above me, making the tight
entrance of her cunt circle around and around on the
crown of my prick. She sank down on me again, driving
my stem all the way up inside her, then raised up again
and repeated the circling move.
"You like that, sugar?" Andrea asked. "You like
the way I fuck? I can suck that big dick of yours with
my pussy. You wanna see how?"
She didn't wait for an answer, which was just as
well, since I doubt if I could have spoken just then.
My mind was on the feel of Andrea's tught, slippery
fuckhole as it alternately twirled around the sensitive
knob or slid down the shaft until I was entirely buried
in her pussy.
This time when she pushed down on me, however,
Andrea hesitated, getting me all the way into her. Then
I felt a strong enveloping grip all along the shaft of
my cock as she squeezed me with the muscles of her
fucktube. Maintaining the pressure, she slowly drew her
hips back, dragging her clasping pussy over and off my
rampant hard-on. At the top of her stroke, Andrea
relaxed her cunt muscle and pushed back down onto me,
then repeated the process again and again.
It was like a blowjob, but no mouth could wrap
itself tight around the entire length of my cock like
Andrea's pussy did. It was like a handjob and blowjob
combined, and it got me going again in a hurry.
"Jeez, woman, that feels good," I told her.
"You're gonna make me blow my wad if you keep that up."
"I'm gonna keep it up until you do," Andrea said, a
look of concentration on her face as she worked to keep
the rhythm going. "But you tell me when you're gonna
blow it, baby, 'cause I want to suck the cum out of you
with my mouth pussy."
"Aw, that's gonna be pretty soon," I gasped. My
cock was twitching inside her, and Andrea knew I wasn't
kidding.
She grasped me with her pussy one last time and
pulled upward, this time coming all the way off.
Scooting backward, Andrea wrapped a hand around my cock
and guided it into her mouth, pushing forward to swallow
almost all of it.
Where her pussy had been tight and almost gummy,
her mouth was wet and slick. Andrea wrapped her lips
around my prick tightly, squeezing me with her lips, and
lashed at the underside with her tongue. She began
plunging her head up and down on my cock, groaning and
grunting with the effort. Her hand whipped up and down
the shaft, twisting around at the top of each stroke.
It was more than enough to push me over the edge.
"Oh, jeez, baby, here it comes!" I shouted, as I
felt my cum boil up out of my balls and jet through the
shaft to spurt into Andrea's sucking, slavering mouth.
She cried out in eagerness to get it, twisting her head
back and forth and pumping both mouth and hand up and
down on me.
"Ahhhhh, SHIT! Take it!" I yelled, as I came in
her hot, sucking oral cavity. Spasm after spasm wracked
me, and jet after jet shot into Andrea's welcoming,
dick-sucking mouth. She swallowed hard, then again.
Grayish-white cream appeared at the corners of her lips
as the overflow seeped out.
MY hips arched up from the pallet, bending my whole body
into a bow. Then I collapsed, almost yanking my cock
out of Andrea's grasp, but she followed me down and
swallowed it all again.
We lay there for a while. I was unable to speak,
except to moan and jerk when Andrea would slide her
tongue around the head of my cock, which was so
sensitive that it was almost hurting. God what a
blowjob, what a fuck it had been!
When my dick was getting limp and no more jism
could be coaxed out of it, Andrea slowly pulled her head
back and off me. We traded smiles.
"God, that was good, baby," I told her. "Best
ever!"
"Glad you like it, sugar," Andrea replied. "Was
the least I could do after you made me cum. Most times
I'm too busy working to get more than a little pleasure
out of it."
Mentioning work seemed to bring Andrea back to
reality. She began to put her clothes back on --
panties, shoes and shorts. I lay there limply for a
while, but when she gave me a look that combined a smile
and a cocked eyebrow, I knew she wanted me to get up and
get going.
That's the problem with whores. Whatever else you
can say for them -- simplicity, professionalism, and
lack of hang-ups -- you're not going to get to lay
around and doze off afterward unless you want to spring
for an all-nighter. I struggled to my feet and dragged
on my clothes.
When we had both put ourselves back together,
Andrea made a few more straightening up moves in the
room, then led me out the door. We took a different
route back, winding up at an unfamiliar door behind
which I could hear the throb of music. Andrea stopped,
put her arms around my neck, and gave me a deep,
passionate kiss.
"Thank you, sugar," she said. "I hope you enjoyed
yourself. I certainly did."
"Oh, yes," I said. "I think you can safely say
that I enjoyed myself."
She gave me a happy smile, then pulled the door
open. It put me back in the Basement corridor near the
restrooms. "See you around, sugar," Andrea said, and
closed the door behind me. I slipped into the men's
room to straighten up, wondering whether anyone would
notice or call attention to me when I re-entered the
main room and what I was going to say to Ted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
End (for now) of 'The Club' by Titmouse.
Story 19
Author's Note:
Pure fantasy. There is no place such as The Club as far as I know.
On the other hand, maybe there is. And if there isn't, maybe there
should be.
I may return to The Club one of these days for more episodes.
---
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