The Not So Invisible Woman

by Suzanne Portnoy

  Clearly, Rio's wasn't going to happen for me that night. I'd hung out for over an hour and seen just a handful of men. Of those, only two caught my eye: massage man, who was off-limits, and a guy who looked a bit like Osama bin Laden, only shorter and lacking the headscarf. He had a decent-sized knob, but when I got a closer look, I saw the hair sprouting from his shoulders and ass and the Prince Albert on his cock. The idea of metal clanging against the back of my throat did not appeal. I left Rio's feeling disappointed, and hornier than ever.

  I went back to my car and flicked through the names on my mobile. I texted Greg. 'Free?'

  He was – in three days. I debated just driving over to OurPlace4Fun later, after midnight, but didn't want to risk striking out twice. At least Greg was a sure bet. He was hot, always horny and knew how to get me off. And I knew that, as a self-employed carpenter with irregular working hours, he could always make some time to fit me in, or to fit in me.

  'Great,' I texted back. 'Monday. Sorted.'

  If I were going to get back in the game, this man would help me do it in style. I'd found Greg a few years earlier when I typed the words 'big', 'cock', and 'London' into Google and answered the personal ad that popped up. We became playmates, and got together for one-on-ones or teamed up for sex parties. He could be relied on to stay hard for ages, fuck me in at least six positions and at varying degrees of intensity, and he loved anal.

  Fucking me up the ass was a sure-fire way to make me come, especially if I used a bullet vibrator on my clit at the same time. It's the combo of the forbidden and the clitoral stimulation that pushes my buttons.

  After six weeks solo, I wanted a thunderous orgasm. Greg's thick nine-inch cock was just the tool for the job, and worth waiting a few more days for. It had a big head that felt great when it entered and stretched me, and balls that fitted nicely in my palm. He liked to dominate and talk dirty, too, which sounded slightly unnatural, and therefore hot, coming out in a middle-class accent. 'Go on, take that cock right inside your mouth,' he'd say. 'The head of my cock is in your ass,' he'd announce, as if I didn't already feel it. Whatever he said, it turned me on.

  Greg was nice and smart and amusing, so was fun to be around even when off-duty. He would have made great boyfriend material, too, but he already had a girlfriend. They'd been together for ten years. She wasn't in the game but enjoyed hearing about his exploits. And that made Greg and my get-togethers even hornier, knowing he was providing fodder for sexy stories that would get another girl off. That's the kind of life-partner I'd want – one who got off on hearing my sexy stories and wasn't jealous when I played around.

  I went home, made some tea, walked up to the loft and went online for a wank. There was a message in my inbox, a response to an ad I'd placed on Swinging Heaven months before, when I had been looking for playmates. Most of the responses I'd trashed straight away; others I'd put aside in a folder labelled 'Hopeful', for future reference.

  'I am looking for a party buddy,' the message in my inbox said. 'I go to FUN places during the week where you can play 1 on 1 or in a group. If you'd like to link, let me know. To sum it up, I enjoy sex ... friendship would be nice too.'

  I liked the message, loved the pics, so tossed him in with the other hopefuls. Then I reread some of the past come-ons, and that got me thinking. Maybe instead of one guy on Monday, I should have three and make this jail break a real ball-breaker.

  I wrote to two of the hornier-sounding hopefuls, asking if they were free to meet up on Monday for lunch at Rio's. Both replied with a yes. I texted Greg to ask if he'd mind my scheduling a group thing. It seemed the polite thing to do. I knew it would get him salivating, too. He enjoyed group sex as much as, if not more than, the one-on-ones.

  'Go right ahead,' he tapped back.

  Just before noon on Monday I received a text message from Greg. 'I have a chest infection. Running a temperature. Feel like shit. So sorry.'

  'No problem,' I texted back. 'Feel better.'

  I was disappointed. I was also happy I'd made plans with the other two. I learned years ago that men were completely unreliable, even when pussy was on offer. It isn't that they don't want it. It's a scheduling issue. Trying to fit it in between work and other responsibilities, even a sex date with a horn dog can't be guaranteed.

  At 12.45 I was walking out the door just as a text came through on my phone. 'I can't be there until 3.' It was HotKnob, one of my two. 'Can you hang around?'

  I didn't feel like extending my lunch hour so long and didn't expect my number-three man would, either. If he even showed. He'd not confirmed that morning – a bad sign.

  I was beginning to fear my big celebration was devolving into a party for one, no different from the past six weeks.

  I went to Rio's anyway. I stepped across the threshold, grabbed my fluffy white towel and made my way to the changing rooms. I was just about to close my locker door when my mobile went off. It was a text from man number three. 'Have to leave town to view a boat I want to buy. Will be in touch soon, xx.'

  That seemed an odd excuse, and pretentious. I didn't reply. I put my mobile back in the locker and walked to the steam room.

  A couple of familiar faces were already there. One was a guy who was average looking but with a cock that was outstanding, the size of a Coke can. None were play pals, just guys I'd chatted with in the steam room or Jacuzzi on previous visits. They'd been with others at the time, or I had been, and we'd just never connected. If there was nothing going on elsewhere, I figured, one of them would do, perhaps Mr Coke Can. If not all of them.

  I walked over to the far side of the steam room and stayed there for a half-hour, alone. I could make out little through the thick of the fog. Then a very tall black guy, about six-foot-five, sat down next to me. He had massive shoulders and the widest chest I'd ever seen. He was completely bald on top, with a trim goatee and a thin moustache. His lips were so large they might have looked comical on a normal-sized face, but like everything else about him that I could see, it wasn't normal sized. Naturally, I wondered if his cock was proportionate.

  He squeezed in next to me, and it wasn't long before his fingers began to travel. They moved closer along the tile bench towards me. I felt his fingertips touch my leg. I didn't move away. Soon his fingers inched up my thigh. Again, I didn't move. Emboldened, his fingers marched straight towards my pussy. Still, I pretended not to notice. After a few minutes I opened my legs a crack, and his fingers slid right onto my clit.

  That's when he broke the silence. 'I was at Arousal on the weekend. It's a club near Dunstable. Ever been there?'

  'No, not tried Dunstable,' I replied. Perhaps not your usual opening, but not so exceptional. People at swinging clubs tend to talk about swinging clubs; they don't talk about the weather as an ice-breaker and, as I'd been reminded by Flora, they certainly don't talk about their careers.

  'It's pretty good,' he continued. 'I ended up flaking out at about six a.m. after taking turns on a couple of girls with about six other guys.'

  'Sounds fun,' I said. That's exactly what I had in mind when I came here.

  'Have you met Nigel?'

  How strange. Did this guy think just because I went to a swinging club in London I knew every man in every club in England? I hated to reinforce his presumption, so stayed quiet even though I actually had heard of Nigel, if not met him. He was a legend. Apparently, he was really tall and really skinny, with a ginormous dick. My friend Dawn, a fellow swinging partner of Greg's and the horniest woman I'd ever met, had told me that she'd once met Nigel at Bristol Gardens, a club in Brighton, and had taken his humungous tool up her ass. They attracted quite a crowd, because no one could believe anyone could take in the whole thing.

  'Nigel. Black Nigel. Big-cock Nigel,' he continued.

  'No,' I said. 'Never met him.'

  His fingers rotated inside me. 'He was there,' he continued. 'I thought you might know him.'

  'No,' I said. 'But big-cock Nigel. Sounds like I should.'

  He wa
s a bit annoying, a bit too big for my liking, and his cock was covered by a towel, so a bit of a mystery, too. I wasn't sure whether to pursue him when he went out the door. But bearing in mind his size and shape, I thought it likely that this huge guy might possess a huge cock. I followed him into the Jacuzzi.

  Another chap was already sitting in the pool, in addition to a pair of old ladies comparing bathing caps and ailments. 'Do you mind scooting over, please?' I asked the new guy, smiling, knowing what the answer was going to be. I'd never met a straight man who didn't want a naked woman sitting next to him.

  He looked up at me and smiled back, then made enough space so that I could sit beside him. I removed my towel, hung it on hook number nineteen, and climbed naked into the Jacuzzi. The new guy checked me out. I checked him out. Judging from how high he sat in the water, I figured he must have been a little shy of six feet. He had short black hair and was of average build. It was hard to see much, given that most of his body was submerged, but his chest was tight and he looked to be in decent shape. He reminded me of a marine, but I couldn't say why, exactly. He wasn't macho or square jawed or overly muscled, which is my cartoon image of a marine type. But he was rugged looking, had a deep voice, and a tattoo on one arm. Not a marine, but the kind of guy that could get cast in a movie as one.

  The black guy was to my right. The three of us began chatting. I told the guys about the three-way I'd tried to set up, pointedly mentioning that it had not panned out. Before either could respond to that info-nugget, four gorgeous black girls walked up. They were all wrapped in towels, their arms holding the cloth close to their bodies. Their presence was unusual. Aside from the ladies over 65, who all wore one-piece swimming costumes and shower caps and used the place as a spa, it was rare to find young sexually available women at Rio's during the daytime. These girls obviously hadn't sussed that the place was a sex club, or, like the older gals, were taking advantage of the £2 entrance fee for women between 11 a.m. and 7 p.m. and were just there to chill out.

  The girls all looked like they'd stepped out of a pop video on MTV Base. They were tiny, with the kind of perky tits and smooth skin that can only be found on very young women. Not a hint of cellulite. They were perfect. Each wore underwear under her towel, I noticed, as they stepped into the Jacuzzi. They obviously had never been to Rio's before and, hearing their nervous giggles, I suspected they probably wouldn't be back. For now, though, they were incredibly good value. They kept me and my two mates entertained as we watched them wriggle in and out of the pool whilst trying not to show too much.

  'This must be your lucky day, boys,' I said, after the four left the pool. 'I've been coming here for years, and it's the first time I've seen four gorgeous girls all at once, at least before midnight.'

  Marine Man turned to me and smiled. 'Did you see the tits on that one?' he said, pointing with a tilt of the head.

  'Beautiful,' I agreed, looking over at the girl. 'A combo of youth and good genes. Hard to beat.' She was about a 32B. Her breasts were small and round, with a slight uplift and nice-sized nipples. You better get what you can now, girl, I thought. 'I don't think you'll be seeing any of them here again.'

  'No,' Marine Man said, sounding almost forlorn. 'They're not playing. Shame, innit?'

  Not for me, I thought. I didn't want the competition. Had those girls been up for fun, my chances of scoring would be zilch.

  'I've seen you here before,' said Marine Man. 'Sorry your plans didn't work out today.'

  'You're not the only one, believe me,' I said. 'I've been celibate for six weeks, a record for me. That's why I'd planned a little lunch-hour celebration. And now it's been scuppered.'

  'Not necessarily,' said Marine Man, smirking.

  'I'm sure we could help you out,' chipped in the huge black guy. He'd been so talkative in the steam room, yet so quiet in the Jacuzzi. Perhaps because I'd been stroking his dick under the water, and he was distracted. And it was, as I'd suspected, pretty good sized – as fat as a 300g jar of Bick's Hot Dog Relish.

  'Do you really think so?' I said, playing up the coquette, blinking into my neighbours' eyes.

  'Yes,' said one.

  'I do think we could help,' said the other.

  'That's awfully nice of you gentlemen,' I said. I reached down with my left hand and grabbed Marine Man's cock. He was hard. Ah, good ol' Rio's. You'd think that after soaking in a hot tub all afternoon, a guy's cock would shrivel up and go soft. In my experience, they never did.

  I did an underwater double-hander, moving my left hand up and down Marine Man's shaft, while feeling the relish jar on my right. Relish Man's cock was so wide, I couldn't get my hand all the way around it. I felt his foreskin slide back and forth over the head. I'm Jewish, and the foreskin thing has always been horny for me. Marine Man's cock was longer but not so fat, with a smallish head that tapered off from a thick shaft. Not as fat a head as I like when it is banging into me, but I'd wanted a three-way celebration and this was not the time to quibble. I took what I could get.

  Two hands surreptitiously travelled under the water, one to my left, one to my right. They moved up my legs, then into my pussy, feeling my clit. An old woman in a shower cap stewed in the water across from us, staring into space, oblivious. An Asian gent who'd just popped into the tub sat next to her. Now and then he'd glance in our direction. If he was aware of what going on, he didn't show it. But I figured if I'd felt under the water, it would be clear what was going on in his head.

  I felt myself getting wetter and wetter. Giving invisible hand jobs under the water was a turn-on, especially when there was a hard cock in each hand. We carried on talking quietly amongst ourselves, whilst below water we diddled. After ten minutes I'd had enough.

  'I really must give you both a blowjob,' I said sweetly.

  'I think you really must,' replied Marine Man.

  'I think that's essential, don't you?' added Relish Man.

  We all stepped out of the Jacuzzi, the men grabbing their towels to cover their erections so as not to spook the Grandmas, and together walked to the back of the club, where there were two rooms reserved for group activity. The 'relaxation rooms' upstairs were earmarked for couples only and were off-limits to threesomes and absolutely a no-go for crowds. In all my years going there, I still hadn't quite worked out why Rio's made the distinction. My theory was that the rule made policing easier for the management. Sometimes, I had to admit, it was hard to tell whether a lone man was stalking a couple for had been invited to join up and was just following at a discreet distance. It was a hassle shooing away single men who made pests of themselves or who didn't respect boundaries.

  The three of us stepped into one of the group rooms and closed the door. I didn't feel like giving a show or attracting another player. I'd come for two men and now I had two men.

  I laid my towel on the gym mat that padded the platform and got on my knees. The play mat was the size of a single bed, but a clever trio could finesse the space. The boys removed their towels and stood facing me, cocks aimed at my mouth. I grabbed the white one first, sucking the narrow head, my right hand moving up and down the shaft whilst my left stroked the black cock.

  'Fuck, that's a big cock!' said Marine Man, looking over at his neighbour. And he was right. The thing was much bigger than it had seemed underwater – not long, no more than six inches at most, but incredibly fat. It may well have been the fattest cock I've ever seen, and I've seen hundreds. I can't be absolutely certain of its status, but at the time it seemed a record-breaker.

  'All the girls say that,' said Relish Man. The two guys laughed.

  I sucked and sucked, alternating between the long narrow white cock and the short fat black one. Stroking off one whilst licking and sucking the other, I closed my eyes, enjoying having a cock in my mouth and another in hand. I heard the men moaning.

  'Ahhh,' said one. 'Suck that big cock,' said another.

  I felt pressure at the back of my head, someone pushing my mouth deeper onto the black cock. It
was hard to get much of him into my mouth, although I didn't mind that. I was happy to work for it, and I wanted him to enjoy the experience as much as I was.

  As I moved back on to the white guy's cock, I heard muffled noises coming from the rest area on the other side of the door. I figured we had probably attracted a small crowd, thanks to the spitting and sucking and moaning noises we were making. It never took long for word to travel through the club when a group thing was in the works. And apparently, as usual, all the men had bolted in the direction of the sex sounds, assuming they were invited. I was happy I'd locked our door.

  I moved onto the platform and got on all fours.

  'There's some condoms in my bag,' I said. As ever, I'd brought along my kitbag, filled with the necessities: condoms, lube, butt plug, and vibrator, plus shampoo and conditioner for afterwards.

  Relish Man handed me a condom.

  Marine Man knelt in front of me and slipped his cock back in my mouth. I felt Relish Man trying to enter me. He pushed hard, pushed hard again, then again. After some difficulty, he was inside me, his cock straining the walls of my vagina, forcing me wider as he made his way inside. He thrust hard and opened me up but, unlike my regular morning man, Sam, he wasn't long enough to hit the tip. Still, it was delicious, feeling filled up after six weeks of running on empty.

  There was a knock on the door.

  'Can I come in?' said a male voice. 'I've brought some drinks.'

  Marine Man looked at me, while his cock pointed to the ceiling. His expression seemed to indicate that if 1 took the drinks now, I'd be taking something else in a minute, as well. I looked again at his towering cock. Go for it, Suzanne, go cock crazy, I thought. It's been six long weeks, you deserve it. I thought of Jennifer Aniston and her L'Oreal commercials: 'Because I'm worth it.'