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I had been seeing Steve for about three months. For ‘seeing’, read ‘fucking’. Of course. He was okay, but certainly not Mr Right. He was becoming serious and I was becoming, if not exactly bored, certainly not ready for serious. I would have to dump him.

Things had not gone as expected since my spectacular one nighter with the lovely Malcolm, my plans to re-enter single life as a sexual predator had not achieved fruition.

I had picked up, or been picked up by, many apparently suitable men who had not made the grade, either in bed or socially. As has been said many times; ‘You have to kiss a lot of frogs etc.’ My fantasy of taking on two men at a time was, as yet, unfulfilled. I mean, just how do you go about it? Place an advert on the web:

“Horny female seeks two studs for repetitive fucking.”???

Sex with one stranger is not without risk, with two…

Nor had I satisfied my curiosity to fuck with another woman. Sally had stopped trying to seduce me, she was a colleague and mixing business with pleasure was not a good idea anyway. And talking of ideas, my notion of lesbianism was apparently not accurate, it is probably the male vision of girl-on-girl; two stunners in lingerie going at it for the benefit of the viewer(s). I had been approached by females, but the type who could pass as dockers or Russian hammer-throwers, guys without dicks. Sally seemed to be an exception, a good looking feminine female who was a ‘butch’ les. She could probably have fixed me up, but to reveal my secret desires to a colleague would be almost as bad an idea as fucking one.

So I had been lazy and stayed with good old Steve. He was not bad in bed, he gave me orgasms, but not of the force ten kind. He also seemed incapable of the kind of intimacy that develops between couples of long standing, a sort of telepathy.

No. He had to go.

I only saw him at weekends, With my half of the proceeds from the sale of my previous marital home, I had bought a city-centre flat, close to my work, the shops and the night-life. Steve stayed with me there on alternate weekends, on the other weekend I stayed with him at his cottage in the country. Well, in the outermost suburbs. It was a good arrangement, but it lacked the fire that I craved. The bell rang. It was him, over for the weekend. This time I would find the right moment to end it, to ‘Tell him on a Sunday.’

Steve took the wind out of my sails straight away;

“How would you like to go skiing?” he bubbled, full of excitement.

He had won a week’s skiing holiday for two in Switzerland, travel, all expenses paid, except for drinks. The catch was that it had to be taken almost immediately. I had never been skiing. Could I take the time off work? And what about my plans to finish with Steve? I took the unprecedented step of ‘phoning my boss at home. We got on well, I worked hard, often long hours, beyond the call and all that. Yes, she thought that I deserved it, she would square it with the masters. Steve’s demise would have to be postponed, I was going skiing.

That weekend was one of the best I had spent with Steve, we spent Saturday buying ski-wear and most of the rest in bed, Steve was invigorated by his win, we fucked almost non-stop. It turned out that he was a good skier, having been several times before. We might not be able to ski together though, I was a complete rookie and would need tuition, he would probably be able to ski ‘properly’ as he put it. That was no problem, I did not want to cramp his style on the piste, and it would give us a break from each other.

Day one ‘on the slopes’ comprised of being fixed up with skis and boots in the morning, then Steve took the cable car to the high slopes while I had my first lesson. The novices were a group of ten, eight of which were young English women, an extended hen-party The ninth was a very attractive man about my age, Michael, also English. I was number ten. Our instructor would not have been out of place in an S.S. uniform, it was very obvious that ‘old people’ like Michael and myself were considered beyond help, I suspect that without us, the eight nubile ‘hens’ would have been easy prey for him. We were just in the way. It did not help that I was absolutely hopeless on skis, most of the first lesson was spent just learning how to stand up. I was glad when it was over.

Michael and his wife, Gina, were staying at the same hotel as Steve and myself, so we met up later for dinner. Gina was gorgeous. Petite, short blonde hair and very bubbly. She was a competent skier. She and Steve had met on the slopes earlier and had skied together. It was very clear to me that Steve was smitten. In return, as soon as I saw Michael without the thick shapeless ski clothing, I went a bit weak at the knees and moist at the crutch. It was lust at first sight. They turned out to be sparkling company, charming and funny as well as looking like Greek gods. Steve and I drank far too much, but it did not prevent us from unleashing our pent up desires on each other when we got to bed, Steve was almost certainly imagining that it was Gina he was fucking, and although it was Steve in my cunt, it was Michael in my head.

The next morning there was a message at reception; today’s lesson would be in the morning, bad weather was expected later in the day. Advanced skiers were advised to be off the slopes by early afternoon at the latest. Sure enough, the morning sunshine was soon replaced by an overcast sky. We still managed our lesson though. I could stand up by now, I could even ski, or rather slide downhill in a straight line. But I could not turn and I could only stop by falling over. Our instructor was not impressed, I was a danger to others. Annoyed, I sent them all ahead, snowploughing their way down the nursery slope. I followed by sliding diagonally across the slope and running into the soft snow at the edge. At least it was soft to fall on. It reminded me of a sailing boat tacking, but with a crash at the end of each tack.

When I at last reached the bottom, the instructor was absent. He had been informed on his radio that there had been an accident higher up and was on his way to help. We watched the helicopter fly in and out again, just as the first flurries of snow arrived, then made our way back to the hotel. My mobile ‘phone rang, making me jump, it had been silent for two days. Steve was in hospital, he had been involved in the accident. I began to inform Michael, but was interrupted by his ‘phone. Gina was also involved.

We shared a taxi to the hospital, which was a fair distance away in the nearest town. Not an easy journey as wet snow was falling hard by now. The injuries to our respective partners were serious but not critical, fractured bones in the lower leg, Steve’s left, Gina’s right. By the time we got to the hospital, they had been put in plaster – no more skiing. They would both be kept in overnight for observation. They had actually crashed into each other! Not the coming together that Steve probably imagined. What about us, Michael and myself? There was no chance of returning to the hotel, there was a raging snowstorm outside. The hotel had ‘next of kin’ accommodation. Basically bunk beds in a room that resembled a prison cell. We would of course, have to pay. Might be worth it I thought, I’ve never done it in a bunk bed, and if Michael was agreeable…

Any thoughts of consoling each other in this way were soon dispelled, the bunk-rooms contained eight bunks. All would be occupied because of the weather. Besides, Michael had shown no interest in me sexually, he spent most of the night at Gina’s bedside anyway. The best ones are always married. I spent an uncomfortable night in a bunk. Alone.

The storm blew itself out overnight and the very efficient Swiss authorities soon had the roads ploughed and gritted, although snow continued to fall. The invalids were discharged and the bill presented. It would be covered by insurance of course, but we had to pay upfront. Copies of the X-rays and the doctor’s report would be available the next day, if someone would care to collect them. Because of the plaster casts, two taxis were needed to get back to the hotel. Our adventure had turned into a nightmare.

The weather did not improve enough to make skiing possible until the afternoon of day five, so the intervening period was spent around the hotel, playing cards and scrabble and over-imbibing. Steve and I soon worked out how to fuck with a broken leg, with me on top, easy really. We spent a lot of time doing that too. On the afternoon of day five, just as the sun began to peep out, the hospital ‘phoned; the X-rays had not been collected, we had forgotten. Only one of us needed to go, but it was a break from confinement in the hotel, so Michael and I shared the long taxi ride back into town. On the way back, Michael put his hand on my thigh as we chatted. Was it a friendly touch? Or a sexy one? His hand was mid-thigh, halfway between knee and nookie, it could have been either. It got my juices flowing though, I fancied him like mad, was I mis-reading the contact? He did not take his hand away, nor did he move it higher. In any event, the thigh in question was covered in several layers of winter clothing. It felt nice though, I left the hand where it was for the rest of the journey.

There was another message waiting, from the instructor; there would be a lesson morning and afternoon to make up for the days lost. I was off the idea anyway, but Michael would be there… That night I rode Steve’s cock until I came, all the time imagining that it was Michael’s. Except of course, that Michael’s would be bigger and harder, and would deliver copious amounts of cum on demand and repeatedly.

I made slight improvement during the morning lesson, in that I was crashing more gently, but during the afternoon I decided that I had had enough of being yelled at to;

“Bend the kernees,” and “Snowploog.”

At the end of the lesson, the Oberleutnant, avoiding my glance, congratulated his class on their improvement, tomorrow we would take the cable car to the upper slopes and spend the whole day skiing properly. Fat chance.

Michael persuaded me otherwise. He had been very attentive that day, having gained confidence in his own ability to ski, he went out of his way to assist me. Besides, it would be a change of scenery and I could decide at the top and come back on the cable car if I chose to. I made the effort, the view from the top was worth it. It was extremely cold though, helped by a brisk easterly wind. I did look at the run, a blue one apparently, the gentlest. But to me it looked like a death-run, like standing on top of a skyscraper made from ice. Michael too, was dubious. We opted against, leaving the Oberleutnant to his harem. Whether he scored any or all of them I have no idea and even less interest. Michael and I opted instead for the luxury of the mountain-top restaurant. Hot chocolate laced with schnapps seems to boost bravery and after several, I decided that rather than returning on the cable-car, I would after all, attempt the death-run. But at my own pace, tacking all the way.

I did okay. By selecting where I fell, I managed to avoid breaking anything and even escaped serious bruising. Again, Michael was in close attendance and seemed to spend increasing attention to brushing snow from me. Inevitably, before long I needed to pee. No public loos up here, the thought of dropping my pants and exposing my tender bum cheeks to the icy blast was unappealing and the trees would not offer much shelter. We came across a wooden shed, banked up with snow on one side, but offering good shelter on the other. Michael would keep watch.

He did just that, but watched me rather than keep a lookout for others.

“See anything you like?” I challenged.

In reply he pulled me to him and kissed me. I responded. That kiss could melt the icicles on the shed. He forced open the door of the shed, it was fairly clean inside and contained a few bales of straw. It was still cold, but out of the wind seemed mild. We closed the door and resumed the kissing, even through the thick clothing I could feel his erection. I was as wet as he was hard, I wanted him, here and now. We unzipped our outer jackets and he pushed a hand up my fleece to fondle my tits, there was no way we could risk getting naked, we could freeze to death. It had to be fully clothed or nothing. And nothing was not really an option, I wanted, needed, his cock, NOW.

I dropped to my knees and unzipped him, pulling his throbbing cock out into the cold, then warming it by taking as much as I could in my mouth. It felt wonderful. It was bigger than Steve’s, in girth at least, most of his length was still in his pants, but it was a serious mouthful. I had sucked Steve off last night, so my lips had enough memory to make a comparison. I had no intention of sucking this one off, I wanted it in my cunt. I reluctantly released him, pulled down my pants and knickers and bent over a straw bale, offering myself for rear access. Steve also risked dropping his pants so that I could enjoy his full length, he offered the tip to my oily slit and pushed fully home. Bliss. There was no way that it was going to be a leisurely fuck, it was desperate. Steve banged me. Our cries must have been audible from far away, I climaxed as his hot load spat forcefully inside me. The rest of the descent was uneventful.

The four of us flew home together on the same plane, the others lived close to our home town, but we said our goodbyes at the airport and that, as far as I was concerned, was that. I was nothing less than astonished when Michael ‘phoned me at work almost two weeks later. We had not exchanged numbers, nor even discussed our lives back home, but here he was. How had he found me? Would we like to spend an evening with them? Look at photographs of the holiday and share memories? My fondest memory of Switzerland was not for sharing, but put on the spot, I said yes and it was done.

Steve was still in tow, nominally at least. I was too much of a coward to dump him, especially as he had given me a holiday. It was not his fault that, notwithstanding my brief encounter with Michael, it had been a disaster. I had not seen Steve though, I had not answered his calls, and I had worked both days of the weekend just gone, so our weekend together, at my place, it had been my turn, had not happened. I did not even know if the plaster-cast was off. I called him, apologised and told him about the invitation. Yes, he was keen, I could go to his place on Friday evening and we would go to Gina and Michael’s on Saturday, they lived about ten miles from Steve’s.

Their house was a revelation, very modern, built into the side of a hill with distant views of the city. We hugged and kissed a greeting, asked about the leg-breaks, were they all healed, yes, and settled down, drinks in hand, to look at their photo’s on a massive High Definition TV. Several drinks later I asked for the loo. Gina apologised for her neglect, showed me the way and then asked if we would like a tour of the house. We only got as far as the adjacent room, also with the view, but equipped as a gym/lounge, and with a huge Jacuzzi, bubbling away close to the panoramic windows. I expressed my envy.

“We sell them for a living,” explained Gina, “Fancy a dip?”

“I did not come prepared,” I replied, “I don’t have a costume.”

“No-one can see in,” she replied, ” We never bother with costumes.”

She was already stripping off, revealing a small, well-proportioned athletic body with small firm tits, but huge, pink, fully erect nipples.

Steve’s eyes were popping out, I glanced at his crutch. Yes, that was popping out too. Michael had stripped. Oh my, what a man! I undressed rather self-consciously. Yes, I had fucked with Michael, but was still a bit shy. Steve was last to disrobe, trying but failing to conceal his burgeoning erection. At last we were safely hidden by the foaming warm water of the whirlpool. The pool was enormous, with two seats on each of the four sides. At his invitation, I had taken the seat next to Michael. Gina and Steve were side by side, opposite. Gina was all over Steve, what her hands were doing was hidden by the water, but I had a feeling that she knew where to find what she wanted, this was not a first encounter, they must have been at it in Switzerland. My suspicions were confirmed when Gina climbed on top of Steve, feeding his cock, unseen, into her notch. When she was happy that he was fully engaged, she kissed him passionately on the mouth. I was entranced. Michael reached out and cupped one of my tits,

“Shall we leave them to it?” He asked.

He helped me from the pool and gave me a luxurious white towelling robe, putting on one himself. He then led me upstairs to a large bedroom. The king-sized bed had a bottom sheet and several pillows, but no duvet. It had been pre-prepared – as a fucking couch. He removed his robe and I saw clearly for the first time, his magnificent cock in all its erect glory. He kissed me gently and peeled the robe from my yearning body, the robe had dried me, but part of me was wet. He eased me back onto the bed, spread my thighs wide and enclosed my sodden cunt with his open mouth. He sucked me with a rare skill, swiftly bringing me to orgasm, but keeping me there with delicious aftershocks until his mouth must have ached. At last he withdrew his clever mouth and crawled between thighs that could not be more spread if I tried. I reached down for his throbbing prick and fed it into me with both hands. I came again as his massive organ stretched me. He fucked me slowly, he must have been desperate to come, but he fucked for my pleasure, not his. Little ripples of pleasure ran through me as he drove his lovely tool repeatedly into my appreciative fuck-hole. At last he could hold back no longer and with a roar, he pumped what felt like a bucketful of spunk into my suctioning cunt.

He rolled off and lay by my side, I could feel his powerful heartbeat keeping time with my own. When I was sufficiently recovered, I sat up to admire his fine body. He could have been a male model. His lovely cock was half-hard and wet from our coupling. I could not resist bending over him and taking it into my mouth to suck it clean, thrilling at the taste of our combined juices. It’s something that I enjoy doing, and men also find it a big turn-on, usually resulting in re-arousal, this is what I really like; the feel of a depleted cock coming back to life in my mouth. This time however, it was not part of my man’s plan. He reached down and pulled me away, placing me instead at his side with his arm around me. That was fine, intimacy – Steve normally turned over and went to sleep.

We did not talk at first and my mind turned to what was going on downstairs as a sequel to the blatant, in-full-view coupling in the Jacuzzi. Steve had not seemed to by surprised at Gina’s initiative. Had they shagged in Switzerland? I voiced my thoughts to Michael.

“Oh yes,” he replied, matter-of-factly, “Whenever you and me were away skiing.”

“Don’t you mind.” I asked.

“Why should I mind? It’s her body, she does what pleases her, as do I, don’t forget our own little Alpine adventure.”

How could I forget? I had a sudden silly thought that I shared with Michael;

“It must have been like mating skeletons, each with a plaster cast to deal with, I would have liked to have been a fly on the wall.”

Michael shrugged, “Gina would not have minded, she enjoys having an audience.”

I looked at him. He was quite serious.

“Did she tell you about it?” I asked.

“We tell each other everything,” he said, “I told her about us, she told me about them, it forms part of our foreplay. Gina spends a lot of time away on business, when she comes home she relates her adventures for me to enjoy, using the basest of language, she has even been known to ‘phone me during a session, telling me how he’s fucking her from behind or whatever. Story telling is a massive turn on, we fuck frantically afterwards.”

I was gobsmacked. I thought about what to say next, then;

Will you fuck her when we’ve gone?”

“Can’t wait,” he replied.

“But she will be wet with Steve’s cum,” I went on.

“The wetter the better. And I’ll guarantee that Steve will want to fuck you while you are warm and wet from me,” he concluded.

His cock was bristling, but it was not for me, it was for his just-fucked wife! He stood up and reached for his bathrobe, then held out a hand to me.

“Shall we see if they’ve finished?”

“You go,” I replied, “Fetch me my clothes.”

He shrugged and left, returning a few minutes later with my clothes.

“They have made coffee,” he said and stood waiting for me to dress.

I asked him to leave, I would join them when I was dressed. Irrationally, I did not want him to see me dress.

I declined coffee, not even sitting down.

“We should go,” I told Steve.

We did not speak during the drive home, my mind was filled with images of Michael enjoying ‘sloppy seconds’ with Gina. And Michael had been right, as soon as we got indoors, Steve ripped off my knickers and fucked me, fully dressed, on the kitchen table. I could almost hear myself squelch. I left after lunch on the next day, we had not discussed our little party.

Later that week Michael ‘phoned me at work, he was in town, could he take me to lunch? We went to a trendy pub that had been transformed from its original traditional style into a shiny cocktail bar design. It had several secluded alcoves, specifically designed for ‘assignations’. We managed to get one, just as well, because anyone evesdropping would have had a treat. Had I enjoyed our visit? Yes. Had Steve? I said that I could not be sure, I had not seen him since then. Would I like to do it again, but this time as a foursome, all in the same bed so that we could watch each other fucking? I almost wet myself, this was way beyond anything I had ever done. The wild parties that led to the failure of my marriage had come close, but I had never had sex with an audience. I could feel my nipples trying to bore through my blouse and I was juicing liberally. Did I want to be watched? You bet I did! But would Steve? I told Michael that I was up for it, but would have to check with Steve.

“Oh Steve will agree,” he said confidently, “I will bet you a blow-job that he says yes.”

“You don’t have to bet ,” I countered, “You can have a blow-job from me anytime.”

Michael looked around, then grinned broadly,

“How about right now?” He asked.

Michael paid the bill and we left, but we did not leave the premises. The toilets at this place were unisex, no urinals, everyone used cubicles. We went into one, I sat on the toilet seat, Michael stood in front of me and dropped his pants, his boner seemed to take up most of the space in the cramped cubicle. I went to work on it. My need was as least as great as his, I desperately wanted fucking, but I had promised him this. I made it good. It occurred to me that this would be the first time that I had sucked him off, I had him in my mouth in Switzerland, but we had finished with cock in cunt. He gave a strangled cry and delivered several gushes of cum to the back of my mouth, I swallowed it down, gulping to keep up with the flow, determined not to allow any to stain my skirt.

He adjusted his dress before leaving, I mouthed to him that I would telephone and he unbolted the door and left. I had unfinished business, I needed to come. I satisfied my needs with my fingers before finally vacating the cubicle and returning to work.

Now, here was the dilemma; Unknown to him, Steve was serving a suspended sentence. I had made up my mind to part company with him, but that had gone on hold, first because of the Skiing holiday, then because of the ‘reunion’ with Gina and Michael. I did not know whether they would want to continue our relationship with me as a singleton. Was Michael really attracted to me? Or was I simply the connection by which Michael could procure cock, Steve’s, for Gina? I was curious about group sex, I wanted to be watched and I wanted to watch Gina getting it from Steve. I decided that I would have to string Steve along for a little while longer. I called him and invited him over for the coming weekend.

Our weekends together at my flat in the city usually took the form doing ‘city things’; shopping, clubbing in the evening if there was not a film or show that we fancied, and enjoying each other’s company in bed. That weekend started by following this well-worn path, but after breakfast on Sunday morning I raised the subject of our next ‘date’ with Gina and Michael. Steve was not keen on the idea, he thought that it might end up driving a wedge between us, whereas he wanted to strengthen our relationship by living together full time. I persuaded him to give it another try, reminding him that I knew all about his liaisons with Gina in Switzerland, had he been thinking about strengthening our bond while he was poking Gina? He protested that doing it with an audience was a whole new ball-game, but yes, he would take part, he would probably need a fair amount of Dutch courage though, so we should travel to their place by taxi.

I made the arrangement and we turned up at Gina and Michael’s ready to fuck. After customary drinks we moved to the bedroom where Michael and I had had sex last time. It was agreed that Michael and I would ‘go’ first We undressed ourselves, Gina and Steve made themselves comfortable on a small sofa that was positioned in the room to give an unobstructed view of bed-action, and Michael stretched out on the bed. I felt very self-conscious to have the others watching. I believe myself to be good at oral sex, I would start with that. At that point in our relationship I regarded Gina as a competitor rather than a colleague-in-sex, I would give her a lesson in how to suck cock. I gave Michael the full treatment, licking, sucking, kissing, nibbling his pride and joy, sucking his balls into my mouth and rimming his arsehole. Such was his self-control that he savoured the lot, showing no signs on coming. Eventually it was me that had to change tactic, my jaw ached and so did my cunt, it needed filling. I crawled up his body and fed his rigid pole into my very wet hole. I rode him that way until I achieved a small climax, only then did Michael take command, pulling me down to his chest and thrusting powerfully into me until he cried out and fired his pent-up cum deep inside me, triggering another, more powerful orgasm for me.

We quickly changed places with Gina and Steve, Steve showed none of his professed reticence, his cock was bone-hard. They chose route sixty-nine, Gina reversed her position and engulfed Steve’s boner in her pink lipped mouth, while he insinuated his tongue between her other pink lips. I noticed that she was bald down there, Hollywood-waxed. It made her cunt look like it was pouting. Steve did not have Michaels remarkable control and soon informed Gina that he was close to climax. She encouraged him to mount her in the missionary position. Gina was a noisy lover, giving little cries as Steve’s tool did its job, and encouraging him to fuck her harder and then to fill her cunt with his spunk. Which he did. Before Steve had dismounted, Michael stood up and moved to the bed, placing a hand on Steve’s shoulder to push him away from his ravished wife. Michael pushed his hard cock into Gina’s cum-filled cunt in a single thrust, Gina cried out in pleasure at this second line of attack. Michael fucked Gina much faster and harder than he had me, this was what it was all about, Steve and I were just foreplay. We watched as he ground out his lust, both of them crying out in passion as they were swept by a massive simultaneous orgasm.

And that was it. We dressed quickly and left them to whatever they had in mind for when we were gone. There was no conversation in the taxi home. We had been live pornography, just there to fuel the other couple’s lust for each other. It seemed slightly clinical, but I had enjoyed it and definitely wanted more. Steve obliged as soon as we got back to his place, fucking me from behind with a vigour that surprised me, and then buggering me until we shared a rare ‘force ten’ orgasm together as he shot what felt like a prodigious amount of cum up my arse.

After breakfast Steve announced that he wanted no further part in what he called, ‘The experiment.’ He wanted me for himself, we should consider marriage, he wanted stability. We rowed about it, I did not want what he wanted, even without the ‘swinging’. He eventually gave me the choice of monogamy or separation. As separation had been my aim for some time, it was an easy decision to make. It also possibly meant the end to my relationship with Gina and Michael, I was sad, but it had been good while it lasted.

I buried myself in my work, only thinking about my situation in the evenings. To take my mind off it, I went out twice to pick up a man for casual sex, but it was a poor substitute for Michael’s vigour. The following weekend I ‘phoned them at home to say that we would not be seeing them again, I had intended it to be just a thank-you and goodbye, but Gina managed to drag from me the reason behind the decision, she said that we could remain friends, Steve was not a condition of our friendship. She would be away on business for a few days next week, but I should meet Michael to discuss how our relationship could continue. He would call round and take me out to dinner next Tuesday.

He rang the bell to my flat dead on time. I buzzed him in, telling him to park his car in a visitor space and I would meet him in the lobby. It then occurred to me that I had never given him my address. He had known where to come, just as he had known where I worked. What was going on? We walked the short distance to the restaurant, the same one that we had lunched at previously, and where I had sucked his cock as dessert. Conversation during the meal was small-talk. We declined dessert, opting instead for large cognacs, the only spirit that I really enjoy neat. As the powerful spirit took effect, he began his seduction. He was very persuasive; to finish our friendship now would be a pity, so far it had been little more than an audition. An audition? He explained that He and Gina were part of a select group of like-minded people who met just for sex, in effect, a swingers group. They were always looking for new members, Steve and I had been identified as such when we were in Switzerland, what had happened since had been an extended interview. It had been so protracted because the group made a point of thoroughly vetting potential members, there was a professional security expert within the group, but it had to be done in his spare time and was very time consuming. We had been approved.

It explained how Michael knew so much about me. I was furious. He calmed me by explaining that there were certainly many dossiers on me in various places, especially as I was a civil servant. Any foreign power worth the name ‘power’, would have a big fat file on me, all the work had been done by others, the dossiers existed, you just had to know how to view them. To my increasing astonishment he described some of the things that had been revealed; my age, date and place of birth, my failed marriage, my ‘weekends only’ relationship with Steve and my penchant for casual sex on weekday evenings! Steve, by the way, had been totally faithful all the time I had been with him. Apart from Gina. Clearly I was a sensualist, membership of the group would raise that to the level of high art. Had I ever had sex with another woman? No. But I wanted it. Had I ever been with two men at the same time? No. But I wanted it. Why stop at two? Membership of ‘The Group’ would give me access to a dozen or more. Gang-bangs? No problem. He had watched Gina fucked by ten men, one after the other, then had been number eleven! The only limit was my imagination.

My hands were shaking, my legs were like jelly. And my cunt was awash. Yes, yes, yes. I wanted all of this and more. But I did not say so.

“Think it over, he said, “If I don’t hear from you by the end of the week I won’t contact you again. And your file will be destroyed. Take all the time that you need.”

What I needed was fucking. We walked back to my flat.

We undressed each other, his cock seemed even bigger and harder. I asked him to lie on his back to have it sucked. As before, try as I may I could not make him come. It was not what he wanted and his control was so good that he would come only when he was ready. I gave up, I wanted him inside me. I crawled up him until his prong was correctly positioned and fed it into myself using both hands. Sliding down on the monster was sheer bliss. I begged him not to hold back, I wanted him just to give me his cum. He obliged in a way that surprised and delighted me. He did not thrust into me, not even slightly, but his cock seemed to swell and contract inside me, then without a sound from him, I was filled with his hot semen as it simply poured out of him, flooding my clutching cavern, it did not seem to spurt, just filled me with a steady flow.

Sometimes, after a long, leisurely session of masturbation, I reach a point where I think that just hot breath on my clit would make me come. Michael had done pretty much that to himself, but with the added advantage of being embedded in my cunt. Trouble was; I had not come. It did not seem to matter, I lay down on top of him and we kissed, not frantic kisses, but hundreds of small, gentle, loving kisses. His hands roamed my back and buttocks, his cock was still hard inside me. This was just heavenly. After what seemed ages, he asked me to move up so that he could kiss my cunt, to queen him. I shuddered with pleasure, my cunt was full of his cum. And he wanted to suck it, to feed on our combined essence. I moved carefully up him, conscious that I was leaving a trail on his chest, and lowered my dripping slit onto his mouth. His tongue reached out to penetrate me, he scoured the sex-cocktail from me. I held on to the bed head to support myself, he held onto my bum-cheeks and pulled me against his mouth. I came so hard and so quickly that I thought I might faint.

Shortly after, with me tucked comfortably under his arm, I asked him to tell me more about his mysterious ‘Group’, was it an orgy society?

” No, it is not that simple, it comprises people with a higher than average interest in, and capacity for, sex. We meet socially, that is just as friends, if sex between members occurs as a result, it is incidental to the main purpose of the party, which is simply a friendly get-together. Sex parties are sometimes arranged, sometimes professional sex-entertainers are retained as a sort of cabaret. If an initiation is to take place, it invariably leads to what an observer might describe as an orgy, but the idea of everybody fucking everybody is far-fetched and impractical, even with the benefit of Viagra. The main purpose of the group is to provide a pool of willing sex-partners. Rather than trawl bars for ‘possibles’, we can call up any of the ‘certainties’, satisfaction guaranteed.”

He was interrupted by his mobile ‘phone.

“It might be Gina.” He said, disengaging and reaching for the ‘phone.

It was Gina. He switched it onto speaker so that I could hear.

“Hi doll,” he said, “What’s the problem.”

“No, problem,” she replied, “Just lonely.”

“No suitable studs?”

“No, it’s going to be a dry night, just my fingers for company, I forgot to pack my flexible friend. Where are you.”

“With Katy.”

“Have you fucked her yet?”


“Lucky bitch. Kiss her cunt for me.”

Michael bent down, keeping the ‘phone close to his face, and kissed my cunt noisily and sloppily. Gina squealed with pleasure, as did I.

“Put her on, let me speak to her.”

“She is on, you’re on speaker.”

“Katy, tell me what you have been doing while I masturbate, every little detail.”

I squirmed at the thought, Michael was nodding his approval, his cock seemed fit to burst. I began to describe our still-warm sex, haltingly at first, but more fluently as I realised what a turn-on it was. Michael’s hand was on his cock, wanking gently as I spoke. Gina gave a little squeal and then the ‘phone seemed to go dead. After several seconds I asked;

“Are you still there?”

“Yes,” she gasped, “I’ve just come.”

As she spoke, Michael ejaculated, several thick spurts leapt from his tip to flop down onto his belly, a less powerful stream ran down his knob and over his fingers to disappear into his pubic hair.

“Michaels just wanked himself off.” I informed Gina.

“Oh Mikey, that’s naughty, I hope you’ve saved some for Katy.”

The ‘phone abruptly clicked off. I looked at Michaels sticky, half-hard member.

“Have you?” I asked.

I had to work for it, with hands and mouth, but it was a labour of love. Our three-way ‘phone sex had been a revelation to me, how could it have been so horny? And what power this woman had, she could control Michael by ‘phone! He declared himself ready to go again.

“How do you want it?” I asked.

He considered for a moment, then;

“Do you take it up the arse?”

I went weak with desire.

“I love it up the arse,” I replied.

“Sit on me,” he instructed, “Facing.”

I reached into my bedside drawer for lubricant, anointing my puckered hole, then using plenty on his enormous prick, this was going to be a squeeze.

I was in charge, I sank gently down, allowing time to adjust to the huge intruder. It had felt good in my cunt, in this much tighter hole it made me see stars. He let me do the moving, to get used to the intrusion. I enjoyed myself by sliding slowly up and down the full length of his greasy pole, in full control of the fuck. He allowed me to do this for several minutes, then suddenly sat up, wrapped his arms around me and rolled me onto my back. His cock remained lodged inside. He raised my legs high, so that they were up around my ears and, holding me in this exposed position, began to ram into me with a power that shocked me. For what seemed like an age he pounded me, only breaking his rhythm when I had an orgasm, but then picking up the power, speed and rhythm again until the lubricant started to fail and it began to hurt. I was about to call a halt, but he must have felt the painful increase of friction too, he pulled out and almost without breaking his stroke, thrust deep into the other, wetter hole. Again he pounded like a machine, again I came, and again it became more than I could bear. Then he stopped, embedded deep inside me. He gave a load roar and stabbed several times into my depths as his own climax at last powered through him.

He jumped off immediately and disappeared into the bathroom, emerging a few minutes later , gathering his clothes and dressing. I watched from the bed, unable to move, feeling like I had been nailed to the bed. He sat on the edge of the bed and kissed me once, then said;

“If you decide against further involvement and don’t call, I won’t pester you. But please call, I am sure that you have what it takes.”

I gathered my thoughts and said;

“Just one question, why did you choose us?”

“Us, was never part of it,” he replied, “We chose you. We were on holiday, just like you, but we are always on the look-out for ‘recruits’, you stood out from the crowd, Steve just happened to be with you. I can’t explain why one person seems suitable, but you must have met people for whom you feel an instant attraction, ‘love at first sight’ some would say, or magnetic attraction, or chemistry. It’s impossible to define, but it’s there. Think of legendary sex-symbols of either sex, their ‘magnetism’ attracts millions, why? I was watching the others in the restaurant tonight, there wasn’t a man there who would decline the opportunity to fuck you and most of the women fancied you too. You simply have ‘IT’.”

He let himself out, I heard the door to my apartment click closed, then fell asleep.

I awoke early, it was still dark outside. I looked at my bedside clock, I did not have to get up for work for another hour, and yet I felt wide awake, my mind raring to go. My body was an altogether different matter. I lay without moving, mentally checking myself over. I felt like a car crash, everything was there, but perhaps not in the right place. The main problem was a numbness in my nether regions. So this was the aftermath of being power fucked? I gingerly placed a finger between my lower lips and drew it up to my clit. Tender. I moved on to the other hole. Even more tender. My vibrators were going to get a rest. I thought about what happened the night before, could I get used to being quite so thoroughly shagged? I had a decision to make, what Michael was offering was a complete change of direction in my life, it would mean that I stopped looking for a partner, a companion anyway. Sex-partners would be readily available, and if Michael was typical, good at it. Any fantasy would be made reality, I might become addicted. Was it wrong? Inspired by Sally’s idea of ‘indulgences’, I had sought them, but would this be a natural extension to that? Or was it over-indulgence? On the other hand, I was still relatively young, I had no desire to produce offspring, I could still change direction again at some later date. From what Michael had said, there were many women who were dedicated to sex, of all types and with many different partners. They do not do it for money or out of duty to a man, sex is their hobby, and hey, a girl needs a hobby! I would be a hobby-whore! By the time I rose from my bed I had made the decision.

At lunchtime, I sent Michael a one word text:


It was the following weekend before I received a reply, and unusually, it was Gina who called. She, they, were pleased that I had opted in, I would not regret it. I was to come to their house next Saturday, any time. And I was to stay overnight. A replacement for Steve would be provided, if I did not like him I could leave. If I stayed, I could call a halt at any time, there would be no compulsion, the purpose was pure mutual pleasure.

My ‘date’ was Leon, the produce of an English father and a Kenyan mother. He was lovely, a Greek god, but dipped in milk chocolate. We had a leisurely meal and then Gina suggested that we adjourn to the ‘playroom’. It would be my party, the two men were completely mine. I asked Gina what her part would be,

“A referee?” She replied, “Perhaps a judge, I will give you all marks for performance and for artistic impression.”

The two men undressed me, each kissing the newly uncovered parts, I could feel my heart pounding, my nipples were like pebbles, my cunt awash with my juices. Gina stripped herself naked and sat on the small sofa, the ‘ringside seat’.

The two men laid me on the bed on my back and positioned themselves either side, they then proceeded to kiss and caress my tense body until the nervous tension melted away, to be replaced by tension of the sexual kind by them gently working on my gaping cunt while alternating kissing my mouth and sucking my breasts and nipples. I had a rigid cock in each hand, which I attempted to wank, to return some of the pleasure that they were giving me. It was a hopeless task, the waves of pleasure rippling out from my centre prevented me from finding any kind of rhythm. I came powerfully and noisily. When my spasms subsided, Michael mounted me, guiding his erection into my hungry cunt and fucking me hard and fast, keeping me on an orgasmic plateau until he fed my need by shooting his load inside me. He dismounted immediately and was replaced by Leon, who repeated the process, hard and fast until he sent his contribution to join Michaels, I came again as I felt his spurts gush into me.

I lay panting, trying to get my breathing under control. Gina came onto the bed and crawled between my widespread thighs. She lay on top of me, her small breasts pressing onto mine, I could feel her nipples spiking into my sensitive tit-flesh. So much for just being an observer! She kissed me on the mouth, not the ‘good friends’ peck that we had previously shared, but a deep, passionate, tongue searching kiss. My first lesbian kiss. I wanted the moment to last forever, but she broke the kiss and moved down to kiss my breasts and to suck my nipples until I almost passed out with pleasure. She moved further down and eased a tit into my swollen, spunk-filled cunt before moving up slightly to press her large, rigid, raspberry pink nipple against my clitoris. A nipple fuck. The very thing that had intrigued me most when Sally had described Sapphic love to me months before. I could feel another climax building. As I came, Gina plugged her whole tit into my pulsating hole and held it in place as I screamed out my release.

She moved back up me and offered her spunky, cunty tit for me to suck, I revelled in the cocktail of sex juices, my own and that of my two male fuckers. She pulled away and moved yet further up the bed until she was astride my face, her ripe pink cunt inches from my mouth. I raised my head and pressed my mouth against the wet gape, pushing my tongue deep inside and sucking at the same time. So this was the taste of cunt. I had tasted my own of course, many times, from my own fingers and from the fingers and the cocks of my lovers, but this was different, richer, saltier, earthier. I realised that swirling my tongue deep inside her, as pleasant as it was, would not be likely to bring her to the climax that I owed her, I drew away, found her prominent clit, and sucked and licked it until she came. In my mouth!

I would have been content to let Gina perform her magic all night, but the boys had other ideas. Recovered, it was their turn, again. Gina moved away, Leon rolled me onto my front and lifted me by the hips so that I was on all-fours. He used his fingers to guide his tip to my notch and pushed slowly in, I groaned as his girth stretched me and again as his balls settled against me as he reached maximum depth. My groans were stifled by Michael pushing his engorged, peeled back knob against my mouth. I opened wide to accept him. So this was two-on-one fucking, impaled both ends by virile pricks. It was thrilling but confusing, my mind switched rapidly from cock to cock, I was unable to relish the one without ignoring the other, what was the correct protocol? The answer is obvious, but it was not obvious to me immediately, I was distracted, my sex-dulled brain unable to prioritise. Being fucked can be a passive exercise for a woman, lie back and think of England and all that, but sucking a cock requires input, concentration from the sucker, or there is a danger of being choked. I tried to enjoy the machine like thrusts of my cunt-fucker, but to give the cock in my mouth most attention, a sort of triage-a-fucking.

It seemed to work, Michael stopped me and withdrew from my greedy lips,

“You’re going to make me come,” he said.

“Come then,” I replied, “Come in my mouth.”

“No, I want to fuck you again,” he said, and instructed Leon to “Swap ends.”

Leon’s lovely bone hard prick was coated with my cunt-juice which I licked off as Michaels noticeably larger plaything dilated me. Same technique as before, I mused, and concentrated my efforts on the organ filling my mouth. Leon did not last long, he grunted once then flooded my mouth with thick rich spunk. Michael gave a few more thrusts then withdrew. Had he come? I didn’t think so, I can usually tell unless I am in the throes of orgasm.

We had a short break for drinks and for the boys to recover. Michael was stretched out on the bed, Gina sat with him. Leon was on the sofa, I joined him. After a short spell of small talk, Gina began to work on her husband’s cock with her mouth, soon bringing him back to combat readiness. It made me want some of the same. I slipped to my knees in front of Leon and began to explore his lovely hard chocolate bar. I would have been content to finish him this way, and to drink more of his essence, but Gina asked me to join them on the bed. I reluctantly abandoned Leon’s boner and did so. Gina instructed me to straddle Michael and to impale myself on his stiff spike. She assisted, holding the thing upright while I engaged it and moved slowly down, absorbing the rigid organ into my wet depths. We fucked in this position for several minutes, Michael reached up and cupped my tits with his big hands and Gina adopted a roving brief, caressing my tingling body all over, squeezing her fingers into my cunt alongside Michael’s gently pumping prick, then using my juice as lubricant to probe into my arsehole with first one, then two fingers. I thought that I might die of pleasure, but this was just the starter. Gina left me for a few seconds, then returned to smear something cold and slick onto the tight pucker of my anus, again working fingers inside. I knew what was coming, but my mind could not accept that it was possible. I felt the tip of Leon’s cock press firmly against my rosebud and before I could object, he pushed inside, past the resistance of the protesting sphincter and into the depths of my rectum.

I had believed the ‘spit roasting’ that they had previously treated me to, to be two into one fucking. I was wrong, this was. I felt stuffed to bursting point, stretched impossibly by two large, questing cudgels. I screamed out in pain and passion as they plumbed my very depths. The pain subsided as they found their stroke, one pushing in as the other withdrew, I continued to yell until Michael pulled me down and silenced me by covering my mouth with his in a deep kiss, but I continued to moan my passion into his mouth as we kissed. Gina appeared from the side, kneeling with her thighs apart in a position where I had a full view, and strumming her clitoris in time with my assailant’s thrusts. I felt my orgasm building, two orgasms really, or at least, from two sources, one from my cunt and another from my pummelled arse. My mind was screaming for my two fuckers to come at the same time, a three-way simultaneous orgasm would be the ultimate finish. Their thrusts became less rhythmic, they lost the beat and began to thrust more wildly, they were coming, and at the same time! I let myself go, seeming to open myself even further to accept the precious seed from my two lovers, waves of pleasure washing my body, I could feel it. I could feel the pulses of spunk as it flooded my two holes. I became aware of Gina’s yelps of pleasure as she timed her self-induced climax to coincide.

Leon withdrew his plug from my pummelled socket and I rolled off Michael, chest heaving, heart pounding. Gina asked if I was alright. It occurred to me that I could have accommodated a third cock, in my mouth. I grinned and replied;

“Not enough cocks.”

They all laughed,

“I think that you are going to fit in nicely,” Gina smiled.

In truth, I felt utterly shattered and was relieved when Leon refused the offer of further refreshment and possibly another round.

“I have an important meeting first thing,” he said, “I should get my beauty sleep.”

He left and I dragged myself to my own room. Before I fell asleep I was treated to the unmistakable sounds of sexual congress from the room next door as Michael had the last horizontal tango with Gina.

“Insatiable,” I mused as I dozed off.

I was awakened by the delicious smell of grilled bacon. Arguably the world’s second best alarm clock, the best being the feel of an erection being pressed between my bum-cheeks. I showered quickly, pulled on jeans and a tee-shirt, and followed the smell. Rain and hail lashed against the panoramic windows. Not a day for a walk in the country then. They enquired how I felt.

“Well fucked,” I replied, “But recovering fast.”

We spent a lazy morning with the Sunday papers, then drove out to a nearby pub for lunch. Back in the house, rain still lashing, but not quite so hard, Gina asked;

“Are you recovered yet?”

“What did you have in mind?” I replied.

Gina cast a glance at Michael.

“She wants a session just with the two of you,” he explained, “With me as the audience.”

My stomach knotted. I wanted it too.

The soiled sheet on the big bed, the fucking couch, had been replaced by a crisp clean one. Michael took the spectator seat as Gina and I stripped naked. She would have to lead, I lacked the experience. It was all very gentle, even at the finish, no hard male flesh, no probing cocks, just smooth soft skin, like silk against silk. A long time was spent kissing and fondling, with me exploring this unknown territory. Of course I know my own body well, but this was quite different. I explored Gina’s shaven cunt with my fingers, and then with my tongue. The sex with Gina last night had been frantic, an extension of what the men were doing to me, but this was just for the two of us. I licked her until she released her sweet dew into my mouth. I used my nipples on her clitoris as she had used hers on mine, thrilling as she came again, then offering her my sticky teats to suck clean. Finally she drew me into a position where our two cunts could mesh and we fucked each other to yet another climax. Sally had been right, I had not known what I was missing.

Michael had been wanking gently, he now stood up, he needed his release. We were upside down on the bed, so that he was at our heads. Which one of us would he fuck? Or perhaps, which first? His choice was just perfect, he stood over us and wanked himself to completion, spraying both of our squirming bodies with his hot, thick seed.

I heard nothing more for a week and then, as I entered my flat on return from work, was greeted by my home-phone ringing. I dropped my bag and snatched it up, it was Michael.

“Hi sexy,” he said, “Any plans for tonight?”

“None that can’t be put on hold,” I replied, “Are you in town?”

“Look out of your window,” he said.

He was standing alongside his car, which was parked on a double-yellow. He waved up at me.

“I’ll buzz you in,” I said, “Bring your car in, the wardens here are sadists.”

We kissed a greeting and I said;

“I’ve just got in, make yourself comfortable while I take a shower.”

“No,” he said forcibly, “I want you as you are, right now.”

He put his arms around me and pulled me close, he was hard already. He propelled me backwards into my living room, pulling my skirt up to my waist as we went. The back of my legs hit the edge of my sofa and I sat down heavily. He practically ripped my knickers off and buried his face in my crutch, hoisting my legs up and apart to allow access to my centre. His tongue speared into me, seeming to reach deeper than it’s length could possibly allow. He scoured my insides with his tongue, trying to scoop out all of its sticky contents, then transferred his attention to my yearning clit, strumming it until I rushed into a small but intense climax. He then unfastened his belt and dragged his pants down to his knees, pushed his hips towards me and scored a bulls-eye, burying his prick ball-deep into me. He fucked with manic vigour, coming quickly, spurting his eager passion deep inside me. He withdrew immediately and slumped to his knees on the floor in front of me. He had been in my flat for just nine minutes.

“I’m ravenous,” he said, “Let’s eat in.”

While he perused the abundance of take-away menus that keep my mail-box fed, I walked unsteadily to the bathroom to have my postponed shower. When I emerged, pink from the shower, he said that he was going out to collect his order and was gone. I swapped my bathrobe for a kaftan, then found a bottle of sweet white wine, putting it into the freezer compartment for a rapid chill, sorted out plates and glasses ready for his return and then watched from my window until he appeared. It was half-way through the meal that he remembered the reason for his visit. Could I come to a barbeque at theirs on Sunday? And make myself available the following Saturday? The Sunday was to meet as many of the other ‘group’ members as could make it and the Saturday was to be my initiation, assuming that Sunday went well. Sunday was ‘just a get together’, sex was the one topic not for discussion, it was for them to get to know me, and me them. Saturday would be very different – pure sex. Whereas Sunday would be an assessment of my social skills, Saturday would be to test my other skills.

I quizzed him for tips about what to expect, he would not give other than broad details, but said that I would be questioned about my sexual experience and preferences, and that they would try to surprise me, to shock me. After the oral exam would come the physical.

“What will happen,” I insisted, “Will I be fucked by everybody?”

He would not be drawn, my fate would be decided on the night anyway, by drawing lots, so nobody knew.

“I can tell you what will not happen though, you will not be fucked by everybody, that happened to the previous female novitiate, and that draw-token will not be put into the draw this time. We like variety. Obviously there is a different set of draw-tokens for males and females, and they are constantly being added to as people come up with new ideas.”

My mind began to race, if not a gang-bang, then what? Perhaps I could winkle information another way;

“Can you tell me what Gina’s initiation was?

“She enjoyed the full monty, a group-fuck, nine men.” No clues there.

“What happened to you?” I persisted.

He thought about his reply, then shrugged and said;

“I had to suck all the cocks.”

I was not expecting that,

“What,” I asked, “All the men’s cocks?”

He grinned, “They are the only possessors of such, ” he said, “We tend to pick women without.”

My head was spinning, and not from the wine. Of course! If there was girl-on-girl, there had to be male-on-male. Wow! It made me more determined than ever to be accepted into this extraordinary club. It also made me ready for another helping of Michaels lovely cock. We adjourned to my bed.

The weather was fine for the barbeque and it seemed just like any other of the thousands which were happening on that fine early summer evening. As Michael had predicted, sex was the only untouched topic. At about ten o’clock, Gina told me to say my farewells, the rest of them would then debate my ‘application’. She would call. As the taxi took me home, I felt like I had made many new friends. At the back of my mind though, was the knowledge that, hopefully, I would soon be having sex with all of them, male and female.

Gina called the next day, I had had unanimous approval. She told me that they would pick me up next Saturday and take me to my initiation, she suggested lunch the following Thursday,

“By then,” she added, “You may have some questions.”

By Thursday my head was full of them, doubts mainly, second thoughts. What was I getting myself into? What had I become? Could I refuse anything that went beyond my ‘safe zone’? If I was not to be fucked by all the men, what were the alternatives? Would I, like Michael, have to suck all the cocks? And would they all come in my mouth? I adore oral sex and am happy about swallowing cum, but twelve? That might make unreasonable demands on my digestion. What about buggery? Could I survive being sodomised twelve times in rapid succession? Michael had told me that the current membership was twelve men and twelve women, that would be the max. It was rare for a ‘full’ meeting to happen, but twelve? By the time Thursday arrived, I had all but talked myself out of it, but this had been anticipated, the lunch with Gina was designed to reassure me.

“Rule one,” she told me, “The ‘prime directive’, is that the group exists solely for pleasure. ‘Consent’ is the key, anybody can refuse anything. The ‘forfeits’ required of potential members at their initiation were to test willingness to play, not to test tolerance to pain. Trust me, from what we’ve seen of you, you will enjoy it.”

I considered her words carefully, then said; “What should I wear?”

She grinned, “Anything that is easily removed,” she replied.

She wasn’t wrong. I was overdressed in a simple silk sheath dress, no bra, a brief thong, and strappy, high-heeled sandals. My attire would not have been out of place at a dinner date, except that my nipples pushed the material out to form small tents on my chest, The things worn by some of the females would not have been out of place in a brothel. Female dress was varied but competed in outrageousness, that of the men was quite sober, they all wore loose fitting black trousers and white open-necked shirts, plus leather mules on their feet, no socks. A uniform. Boring really, but then, what is the male equivalent of a cup-less basque, high heels and stockings?

We seemed to be the last to arrive. Bucks Fizz was the drink of choice, made as strong or as weak as you chose, although some were drinking the Champagne neat. There were a few who had not been at the barbeque, but most of those present, I had met. The host and hostess, owners of the house we were in, were Douglas and Elizabeth. As it was their house, they were also ‘in the chair’. After about ten minutes, Elizabeth tapped her crystal glass with a long, lacquered nail. The room fell silent. Elizabeth had a soft cultured voice that suggested authority,

“Shall we convene, boys and girls?” She said clearly, then more quietly, so that only I could hear; “You are honoured, we have a full house tonight, twelve men and twelve women, all with a common purpose, united in fuckery.”

The word seemed out of place in her plummy accent. The party-goers had moved to the sides of the room, revealing a table with three chairs on one side of it, and a single, straight backed chair, opposite, about ten feet away. Close to the table a low tripod supported a video camera. I was invited to take the single chair, Douglas took the centre chair at the tribunal table, Elizabeth sat at his right and another, younger woman sat at his left. She operated the camera remote control.

Douglas was probably in his late forties, hair slightly grey at the temples. He spoke with a voice that was like warm honey;

“Tell us why you would like to join our little group Kate.”

This was it. “I, I like sex,” I replied falteringly.

“So do we all,” he went on, “But tell us how much.”

“I like fucking,” I offered, I could feel my cheeks flush. Silence. More was required.

“I like to be fucked, I like to suck cocks, I like a man to come in my mouth…”

“Come?” Douglas echoed, raising his eyebrows.

Realisation washed over me, how stupid of me, Michael had given me the broadest of hints; “…using the basest of language…”

“Spunk,” I said loudly, bursting the flood gates, “I like spunk, I like to swallow it, I like it in my cunt and in my arse, I like it on my tits and on my face,” I looked directly at Douglas, “I want YOUR spunk,” then at the audience, “And yours, all of yours.” I was shaking with lust, and it felt wonderful.

“Do you fuck women too? Douglas asked.

“I’ve only had one.” I admitted.

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Oh yes, I enjoyed it.”

“Tell us about it.”

“We kissed with our tits touching, we fondled each other all over, and kissed each other’s bodies, we sucked each other’s tits and licked each other’s cunts and we came by rubbing our cunts together.”

“Would you like to do it again? With others?”

Again I addressed the audience, “I want to kiss all of your cunts and drink your juices.”

It appeared to be going well, but I was melting with desire, I wanted the talking to stop and the fucking to begin. But the inquisition was not finished.

“Do you masturbate?” Douglas enquired.

“Frequently, with toys and with my fingers, I would like to masturbate right now.”

How true that was.

“Does talking about sex arouse you?”



“My nipples are like stones and my cunt’s on fire.”

“Show us.” He concluded.

I stood, stepped away from the chair, unzipped the side zip on my dress and peeled it over my head to stand near-naked before my… What? Jury? Audience? No time to think now. On an impulse, I turned my back to them, slipped my tiny, very wet thong over my hips and down my legs, straight legged, like I was touching my toes. I stepped out of the knickers and then, still bent double, parted my legs. I knew that I was showing everything, the puckered hole of my bum and, pouting below my cheeks, my dripping, gaping cunt, even my dangling tits if they cared to look through the inverted V of my thighs. I went further, I used both hands to spread my buttocks apart. If anything had been hidden, it certainly no longer was. I was close to fainting with lewdness and the blood gravitating to my head, I stood and turned to face them. I used two fingers to scoop out some of the slick, slippery fluid that coated my cunt-lips, raised the fingers to my mouth, and sucked them clean. Finally, I placed one hand on my thigh and bent the leg forward at the knee in a swimwear model pose. There was utter silence in the room, apart from the frantic beating of my heart. After several seconds, Douglas swivelled on his chair, turned to the group and addressed them;

“Anyone with a soft cock or a dry cunt, please raise their hand.”

That caused some mirth, but not a single hand was raised. Elizabeth stood and walked, or rather tottered, towards me. She wore the most impossibly high heels, transparent plastic, on thigh length leather boots. Supporting them were suspenders attached to a leather corset, high necked at the front, laced at the back. Instead of bra-cups there were two holes through which protruded her large, slightly pendulous breasts. Her nipples though, were anything but pendulous, perky might be a better description, and twice the size of my own, dark, like corks from bottles of rich red wine. Standing in front of me she seemed to tower above me, she was tall anyway and the heels helped. I was tempted to bend my head, just slightly, and suck one of those glorious teats… She was speaking to me, she raised a black velvet bag and said;

“Draw a token, choose your own nirvana.”

I dipped my hand into the bag and drew out what I thought may at one time have been an old-fashioned Bingo caller’s ball, it bore the number 5.

Elizabeth showed the number to the crowd. The second female seated at the table, who up to now had done nothing but turn on the video camera, read out from an A4 sheet:

“You will kneel before all the men here, your hands will be secured behind your back, you will be blindfold. The men will then masturbate and ejaculate onto your body. Do you accept the challenge?”

Fear knotted my stomach, the word ‘secure’ was the cause, after my restraint and whipping at the hands of my ex, which had led to our divorce, I had sworn never to allow myself to be ‘secured’ ever again. But then I remembered Gina’s words, “Consent is the key.” Surely it was bondage for titillation, not punishment? There was another factor that weighed heavily on the ‘yes’ side of the scale; since the three-way session that had ended by Michael spraying the two of us with his semen, I had fantasised about it happening again, but with more cocks and more, much more, spunk. A little voice said;

“I do.”

My voice.

The chair with my clothes was whisked away, as was the tribunal table. The camera operator moved the tripod away and returned with the camera hand-held. Someone (female) suggested removing my shoes, they were too good to be ruined by a spunk-soaking. A pad was supplied and I was encouraged to kneel. My hands were pulled behind me and handcuffs snapped onto them. Real, modern handcuffs, with a rigid link between the cuffs, like police ones. Finally, a blindfold, or rather a sleep-mask, the type provide by airlines, was fitted over my eyes. The blindfold was an inspiration, depriving me of my most valuable sense and at the same time, practical; semen is salty, it stings when it gets in your eyes, the blindfold would protect them! I could hear movement, presumably the men getting into position, then silence. Well, not quite. I concentrated my attention on listening, there were faint noises; a soft rubbing sound; the sound of a hand moving up and down a shaft? And another fainter sound, like a gentle kiss. Does a wet foreskin make that sound as it makes its journey back and forth over the knob? My ponderings were brought to a sudden halt by something warm and wet hitting squarely between my shoulder blades – the first volley of spunk! Subsequent spurts also hit me on my back. It completely surprised me, I had not expected to be hit from behind. I did not know what I expected really; for them to queue up and wank one-by-one into my face perhaps? I gasped at the shock of it, just in time for gusher number two to land in my open mouth, then more, onto my tits and again on my face. Then it seemed to be everywhere, non-stop. It was mainly on my front, although some did coat my back. When I watched the video later, it showed the men in a circle all around me, but as one man came, he moved aside to let the others have more choice. And they mainly chose my tits and lower face. The effect on me was extraordinary, I could feel the spurts hitting and previous offerings trickling down my naked flesh. It was all too much, I shuddered into a small but powerful orgasm, my first without physical stimulation of my genital area. At that moment I knew what I had become; a five foot five inch, moist, quivering clitoris.

I realised that the shower had stopped, I ran my tongue around my lips, I had drunk plenty, but wanted more. Someone removed the blindfold, then the ‘cuffs, and I was helped to my feet. The men had blended back with the women, all cocks were out of sight. The video showed that they did not undress, they simply pulled their cocks out of their flies and performed as required. As I was led out to an adjacent bedroom with a bathroom attached, the furniture was being rearranged again. My helpers cleaned me up using wet-wipes, their idea, I would have been happy to let the stuff dry on me, to wear it like a badge of honour. There was very little on my hair, the aim of my firing squad had been good. I titivated it a little, renewed my lipstick and accepted the light robe that I was offered. Before going back into the playroom I asked if I had passed,

“Ohhh yes,” was the reply.

Gina was waiting for me in the playroom, she led me to the front of the crowd and we sat on a low couch, placed in a prime position and left empty, apparently for me. The table was back in place, as was the camera and tripod. The inquisition had been resumed, this time the ‘victim’ in the chair was a man. I recognised him from the barbeque, I had quite fancied him. He was not very tall, I had been taller with heels. Stocky, like a boxer, but with none of the facial damage that seems to go with that trade. His name was unpronounceable, “Call me Abel,” he had insisted. He was the blackest man that I have ever met. He wore ‘the uniform’, The front of his trousers bulged promisingly. His erect cock was tenting the material in much the same way as my nipples had in forming my own, tiny tit-tents. I leaned over to Gina and said softly;

“Abel looks able.”

She grinned, explaining; “He took the ‘blue-pill’ option earlier, he will stay like that for the rest of the evening.”

The same three were at the tribunal table, but this time, Elizabeth was in the centre, doing the questioning. They must have been reaching the end of the hetero-sexual questions, Abel was saying how much he liked to lick cunts. Elizabeth’s next question was;

“Do you like to lick them if they have been filled with another man’s cum?”

Abel considered his answer, “Yes, I have done that.”

“But do you like it?”

“Yes, I like it .”

“What about straight from the source, do you like to suck another man’s cock until he comes in your mouth?”


“Do you like cock up your arse?”


“Do you like to fuck another man up the arse?” In Elizabeth’s cut-glass accent, this just did not seem right, I had once heard my headmistress say; “Bollocks,” this reminded me of it, but there was no doubting that the language was a big turn-on.

“I like to fuck arses,” replied Abel, “It does not matter whose, nor does it matter whether it is a male of a female sucking my cock, it is the sucking that is important.”

I thought that that was well said and murmured my approval. Abel’s speech was impeccable, in the way that only non-English can speak English. No clipping of words, no slovenly speech, ‘g’s and ‘t’s were all sounded. Each word was carefully enunciated, with no merging. Mechanical sounding, but correct, and in his deep voice, very sexy.

“Does talking about it arouse you?” persisted Elizabeth.

“Yes, it does.”

“In what way are you aroused?”

“My cock is like iron and my balls ache.”

“Show us.”

Abel quickly stripped, he was completely hairless, even his head had been shaved. He was built like a weight lifter, his skin had that sheen that European skin seems to lack. On each shoulder was some kind of scarring, but in a pattern, some kind of tribal marking? He was quite magnificent. He stood to attention like a soldier, arms stiffly at his sides, as though awaiting inspection. His little soldier was also at attention, whoever was sponsoring him to apply for membership had no doubt inspected it closely already, and I was jealous. I wanted it right now, as far up me as he could get it. I could not help thinking that he looked like an ebony hat-stand, with a peg for only one hat. I wanted to be the hat.

Douglas rose from the table carrying the black bag, which he offered to Abel. Abel stood at ease, apart from his prick, and took his lucky-dip into the bag. He drew a seven. Camera-girl read out the sentence:

“You will fuck all of the women here, but for only one minute each, and without ejaculating. Each fuck will be timed. Because the drug that you took earlier prevents detumescence, even following ejaculation, you will wear a condom. This will be inspected after each fuck, a filled condom means failure. You may come inside the last woman, after the minute is up, that is your choice. Do you accept the challenge?”

Abel accepted. Elizabeth said;

“In order of seniority please ladies.”

“That means that she gets to go first,” whispered Gina, “She always does that. Still, this is one of my favourites.”

Elizabeth approached me,

“Do you want to get involved in this Katy?” she asked.

“Oh yes please,” I replied.

“It means that you will be unlucky thirteen, is that alright?” she added.

“It also means that I should get the prize,” I replied.

Again there was much activity as the scene was set, the scene this time being two black leather chairs, like dentist chairs but with the leg rest divided into two and adjustable, so that the user could have her legs splayed wide for fucking or sucking, or a man positioned perfectly for cock-sucking. The seat was high, allowing the fucker to stand in front of the fuckee to enable a good view for the audience during the performance. Elizabeth handed me a condom,

“You can have the honours,” she said, “Wrap him up.”

She removed her knickers and climbed into one of the chairs, adjusting the ‘wings’ so that she was spread wide, displaying the aristocratic crack, using fingertips to ensure that the lips were apart, for unobstructed access to the treasures within. The other chair was taken by a stunningly beautiful black woman, nowhere near as black as Abel though, more mahogany coloured. She wore a dark red basque, the bra cups of which had been folded under her ripe tits, matching stockings and high heeled shoes. No knickers. Her nipples and cunt-lips were a darker shade, but as she too spread her lips for easy entry, a wet, dark red interior was revealed, almost matching the basque. Abel presented his erection for garnishing, I tore open the condom packet and placed the teat between my lips. I knelt down in front of him and lovingly wrapped my left hand around his straining shaft, looking up at him. His brown eyes were staring down at me, the whites of them showed all round. I kissed the taut-stretched tip, bringing the rubber into position, then rolled it down with my lips as far as it would go, and finished with my fingers. He was ready.

Douglas appeared with a stop-watch! This was time-and-motion with a difference. On his word, Abel pushed himself full length into Elizabeth in a single thrust. He then began to bang her like a drum, his trim bum banging his cock into her like a jack-hammer. Had he misunderstood the challenge? If a man is aroused enough, a minute is more than enough, I have brought men off with my hand in half that time. The watch bleeped, Abel had cleared the first hurdle anyway. He pulled out quickly, someone checked the condom and nodded, Douglas said something to Abel, presumably telling him to slow down, and he nodded as he drove his peg into target number two. Elizabeth dismounted and her place was taken by another woman. Abel seemed to have taken the advice, he slowed his pace to about half of before, a stroke rate of about one per second, the clock beeped again.

The women came and went, actually nobody came, but that was not the point. The condom became very wet on the female side, but it remained empty on Abel’s. After six, the condom was changed and closely inspected while Abel speared his seventh target, this was Gina. She blew me a kiss as he entered her. His fine body now gleamed with sweat from his exertions, this was mopped between penetrations by one of the women who had already been done.

Astonishingly, he made it. I was entranced, someone had to remind me that my turn was next. I mounted the chair, forced my legs as far apart as they would go and waited for the missile that Abel carried between his legs, to part mine. I thrilled as his thick shaft dilated my already gaping fuck-hole, it was going to be over too quickly whatever happened. Abel gripped the sides of the chair and swung his hips so that his cock pumped me deliciously, veins stood out on his arms, neck and chest, beads of his sweat dripped onto me. His eyes were tight closed as he concentrated on lasting for those last few seconds. The clock beeped. He pulled out and someone removed the condom. Still empty. He had succeeded. He stared into my eyes as I guided his now naked weapon back inside me, his eyes still had that white-all-round appearance. He fucked me for about another minute, continuing at the same steady pace until with a mighty roar, he spat his high pressure load high inside me. There was a well-deserved round of applause.

And I got the prize.

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