Jeremy laughed. “I don’t think they swap car keys either. This isn’t the 1970s anymore.”
The side doorbell they had been instructed to ring was answered by a well-preserved blonde of fifty or so in a zebra print wrap dress, sky-high heels and plenty of chunky costume jewellery. She looked them up and down for a second then smiled warmly at Jeremy.
“Ah, I know this young man,” she said. “The lovely Jeremy. And you must be Laura.”
“Yes, that’s right. I love your dress.”
The smile relaxed from professional to genuine. “Thank you, dear. Last-chance bargain in the sales at John Lewis. Come on in and I’ll sort you out some drinks.”
They followed her up a spiral staircase to a vast and luxurious lounge area, where five other guests sat drinking aperitifs on the white leather sofas. Laura saw immediately that she and Jeremy were the only couple under forty, but this was not important. They all looked as if they put in the hours at the gym and, while she might demur at some of the ladies’ fashion choices, they dressed expensively. Standing in the middle of the room, Laura found herself in the centre of a cloud of competing perfumes and colognes, none managing to overpower any of the rest. A large photograph of a graduate on the wall jogged Laura’s memory and reminded her that she had been at school with the Lewises’ son, though he had been a couple of years above her. How strange it was, to be here, for this purpose, in the living room of a contemporary’s parents. Ah, life is an adventure, she thought, suppressing a grin of mischief.
“Some of you might know Jeremy,” Marie Lewis opened, heading over to a trolley containing decanters, glasses and an ice dispenser. “He wrote that marvellous piece about Roger’s half-marathon. Did you see it in the Gazette?”
There were murmurs of assent, while Roger himself complimented Jeremy once more on a great job.
“But,” he continued, squinting at Laura. “Aren’t you Trewin’s girl?”
“That’s right,” she said, taking a seat and a glass of too-sweet sherry. “Laura.”
She was aware of some furtive glances and a slightly uncomfortable pause.
“Oh, don’t worry. I don’t tell Daddy everything I do,” she assured them.
“You might find that we’re not really your kind of people,” one female guest suggested tentatively.
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not ageist,” said Laura with a dazzling smile.
“Neither am I,” said Roger, a greedy look in his eye. “Looks like we’ll get along.”
“No, I mean…Oh, never mind.” The tentative lady gave up and reverted to her cocktail.
“How long have you been seeing each other?” another man asked of Jeremy, but it was Laura who answered.
“Oh, not long. But we’ve come a long way in a short space of time. We’re people who like to explore our limits, aren’t we, Jeremy?” She didn’t wait for his answer but rattled on. “We’ve explored so many that we’re in danger of running out. That’s why we’re here. He’s such a desperate little slut. I thought I could use a hand with him.”
There were a couple of splutters into glasses and Jeremy laughed weakly, but Marie leaned forward, an eager gleam in her hard blue eyes.
“I’ve always thought that about Jeremy,” she said. “Ever since I first met him. He was so keen to please that I wanted to pat him on the head and give him a bone. Do you domme him, Laura?”
“Whenever I get the chance. He loves to be used and abused.” Her merry laugh tinkled out. Jeremy squirmed in his seat, but she could see the telltale bulge. This conversation was turning him on, nought to sixty in a couple of sentences.
“I’m interested to hear that.” Marie crossed her legs, the wrap skirt falling away from her sunbed-tanned thighs.
“Well, sounds like Marie knows what she wants,” Roger commented.
“So do I,” said Laura, loudly and clearly. “I want a foursome with you and Marie. Or rather, I want a threesome with you two, while Jeremy watches, tied up and helpless in the corner. Would you be up for that?”
“We don’t usually discuss these details until we’ve finished our drinks,” protested the tentative lady, clearly distressed at the breach of etiquette.
“Just once won’t hurt, will it, eh, Sandra?” Roger was obviously raring to go, tipping the remains of his gin and lime down his throat in one gulp. “Why don’t you and Clive swap with Louise and Mark, and the rest of us four sort out some action together? Pick any room you like. Have fun.”
Whether or not this was acceptable to the other couples in the room was never established, but Roger and Marie beckoned Laura and Jeremy down the stairs, back to the lobby and then farther down some steps into a fully equipped basement playroom, complete with dungeon toys, a black satin-covered circular waterbed and mirrored ceiling.
“Oh, this is just amazing,” trilled Laura, once the flickering red lights had been turned on. “Just what you imagine these places to be like. How long have you been doing this?”
“This is the tenth anniversary of the club.” Marie simpered. “I had a bit of a crisis around the time of my fortieth birthday. Started thinking it was all downhill and I was on the fast track to becoming a respectable matron in flat shoes. Roger had the room fitted out as a Christmas present. Our sex life has never been better, has it, Rog?”
“I’d recommend it to anyone,” Roger enthused. “I feel like a teenage boy again.”
He certainly didn’t look like one, Laura thought, but she kept the observation to herself. Roger Lewis wasn’t a bad-looking man, certainly fitter than her father at the same age and, though he clearly dyed his hair, at least it was all his own.
Jeremy, shuffling his feet at the back of the group, spoke up at last.
“How many members do you have?”
Marie turned to him, laughing. “Always the journalist, Jeremy. Looking for names, are we? I think perhaps our boy needs to learn a lesson in discretion. What do you say, Laura?”
“Oh, absolutely,” Laura concurred. “But first I think he should get his clothes off. Come on, boy. Strip.”
The threesome crowded around Jeremy, watching him undress with fumbling fingers, commenting on each body part as it was revealed.
“You don’t shave your chest, do you, Jeremy?” Marie wondered. “Not much hair on it, is there? Quite smooth, like a girl. Look at his little nipples, all hard and excited. Aww. Sweet.”
“Do you like his arse?” Laura asked as the trousers slid over the curve of his backside.
“Lovely shape,” approved Marie. “Do you make him wear those tight underpants to show it off?”
“Yes. They’re a size too small, you see. I like to keep his cock tightly packed in. I think it makes him think of me during the day and remember what a naughty boy he is. Come on then, Jez, get them off. Show Marie the size of your package.”
The restrictive underwear was pulled down with some effort until Jeremy was quite naked in front of the three clothed observers, only one of whom had ever seen him thus before.
“You mayn’t cover yourself,” Laura warned, seeing that his hands were heading instinctively towards his semitumescent cock. “We want to see your badness. Look. He’s getting hard.”
“So he is. Do you mind if I have a feel?”
“Be my guest.”
Marie squeezed a tight fist around Jeremy’s rising cock, using her other hand to manhandle his balls. He made an incoherent cry of humiliated rapture and began to pant. “Do you ever peg him, Laura? I bet he loves a strap-on up his arse.”
“Oh yes, he does.”
“Well, perhaps that can be a treat for another day.” Marie let one exquisitely manicured hand slap down loudly on Jeremy’s bare bottom. “For now, I think we have other plans.”
“That chair looks perfect.” Laura pointed out a high-backed wooden seat with manacles attached to the lower end of the front legs. “Go and sit down, boy.”
Jeremy settled himself obediently into the hard wooden seat.
“Do you wish you ha
d a plug up your sore little bottom?” crooned Laura, smiling. “You like to be uncomfortable, don’t you? Never mind. Your treat is coming and I think you’ll love it.”
Laura strapped his ankles to their supports, then took his tie and bound his hands behind the chair back at the wrists.
“Do you have a gag, Marie?” she asked without embarrassment. “A ball gag would be ideal.”
“Oh, we’ve got all that stuff,” Marie said offhandedly, opening up an ornately decorated chest set against the wall. “Whips, chains, you name it. Here you go.”
She handed Laura a gag and watched her buckle it gaily around Jeremy’s head so that the bright red rubber sphere filled his mouth. “I bet this’ll have enough drool on it to fill a bath by the time we’re finished,” she said. “Jeremy is such a dirty little bitch.”
“I can imagine.”
“I have to spank him all the time.”
“But does he ever get to spank you?” Roger wanted to know.
“Of course not.” Laura sent a chilly glance his way. “Not Jeremy.” Then she winked, and Roger grinned broadly.
“Message received and understood.”
“You see,” said Laura, walking over to Roger and leaning back against his chest, placing his big hands on her snug-skirted hips, “Jeremy isn’t a real man. I don’t let him do manly things to me. I save that kind of thing for real men, Roger. Like you. A real man like you can do whatever he likes to me.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” growled Roger, moving his hands up to cup her breasts in their silky casing. Laura felt her nipples pop into action, stiffening into his stroking fingers. Rocky used to do that. Pretend he’s Rocky.
“Mmm, feels so good. You’re in charge, Roger. You can have me any way you want.” She licked her lips in Jeremy’s direction, enjoying the sight of him groaning into the ball gag.
“Believe me, I will. But I want a show first. I want you and Marie to undress each other.”
“It’ll be a pleasure.”
Marie, smiling and watching Jeremy like a hawk, stepped up and took Laura out of Roger’s clutches and into her own arms, depositing a succulent, pink-lipsticked kiss on her before getting to work on her clothes.
Marie’s wrap dress was easy—one tug at the fabric belt and it fell open. What a good choice for a sex party, Laura found herself thinking. I’ll get one of those. Marie had deft little fingers and she unbuttoned Laura’s crisp cotton blouse quickly before bending to her side to unbutton the pencil skirt. The clothes were set aside and both women fell onto the bed in their underwear, stockings and heels, caressing and kissing in a supple tangle of limbs. Marie wore a leopard-print basque and thong over sheer whisper-black stockings while Laura had opted for a matching bra and panty set in pink with black polka dots. Her stockings were seamed with a diamanté butterfly at the ankle, and she enjoyed the rubbing of the nylon when she moved her leg up and down Marie’s thigh.
“Marie, take Laura’s bra off. I want to see her tits.”
Marie did as she was told, then buried her face in the valley of Laura’s cleavage, snuffling with joy.
“Nice size,” said Roger, his hand down his trousers. “Suck her nipples, Maz.”
It was not Laura’s first sexual encounter with a woman, but she was astonished at Marie’s efficiency and thoroughness. Laura’s same-sex seductions were usually of shy, scared girls whom she sensed she could bully and humiliate. Marie, on the other hand, was a confident woman, and somehow it was clear from the snaky flicker of her tongue and the firm touch of her hand that she wouldn’t stand for any of Laura’s nonsense. At last, an equal. Laura half-closed her eyes, bathing in the expert manipulations Marie was performing on her breasts, and took a quick peek at Jeremy, who was wriggling against his restraints with his cock pointing desperately at the sky.
“Knickers off, ladies, and let’s have some fingering.”
“Is he always this bossy?” Laura asked with a dirty look at the male instigator. “Who said you were running the show?”
Marie chuckled even as she pulled Laura’s panties down to her knees. “All that ‘real man’ talk went to his head,” she surmised.
“Went to his cock, more like,” Laura said with a significant glance at the ballooning golf slacks of her host.
The women, now nude except for stockings and heels, fell back into a close embrace, grinding their neatly shaved mounds against each other and mapping each other’s bodies with the joy of explorers on virgin territory.
“Who waxes you?” asked Laura, running fingers between Marie’s pussy lips towards her perineum.
“Shelley at Foxy Lady. I can give you her number if you like.”
“Please.” Roger’s voice was infinitely pained. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but we’re here to fuck, not discuss beauty tips. Fingers in pies, girls, fingers in pies.”
“How do you put up with him?” Laura muttered in Marie’s ear, but she was as eager as he was to acquaint herself with the intimate parts of her hostess, and she let her hand glide up and down between the older woman’s labia, sideways up, gathering dew.
“Mmm,” Marie replied, too caught up in the action to comment now. Her hands were on Laura’s buttocks, prising them apart, moving lower until they reached her spread thighs and slipped between them.
“Okay, if you don’t like me directing, I’ll let Marie decide what happens next,” Roger snapped. “It’s our party, Laura, which I think you’re forgetting.”
“And…you’ll cry…if you want to…” gasped Laura, now speared on three of Marie’s bony fingers.
“All right,” puffed Marie. “What do you think of the taste of pussy, Laura? Is it something you enjoy?”
“I’ve…never…” Laura rolled over onto her back and kicked racehorse legs in the air around Marie’s crouched and busy figure. “Oh God. I’ve always been eaten…never done the eating…”
“Selfish girl,” tutted Marie. “I think it’s time you gave a little, don’t you? Let young Jeremy get a good look at you licking a wet pussy. I think that little scene would stay with him for life, don’t you?”
“O-kay…”
Marie withdrew her neat fingers and settled herself on her back, widening her legs and raising her knees as if awaiting the attentions of a gynaecologist.
Laura now had the opportunity to examine the much-admired wax job at close quarters, and she scooted down between those toned thighs and took a preliminary sniff. Marie smelled good, desire mixed with some kind of cocoa butter, and it was no hardship to move closer, to zoom in on the folds of flesh and their moist central bud until they were close enough to wet her face.
Male groans accompanied the first darting foray of her tongue. Marie shivered and her sex seemed to contract a little bit, then her clit filled and bloomed, inviting Laura in for more.
“Eat me, girl, and make it good,” said Marie throatily. Although Laura bristled at being given instructions, her admiration for Marie’s indomitable demeanour made her want to please the more experienced woman. She began to push and probe, washing Marie’s sex with her wet length of muscle, licking down and swirling around her vagina then moving back up. She alternated butterfly flutters with sucking kisses and full-bodied ravishing of Marie’s defenceless clitoris until her face was shiny with juices and Marie was close to quivering, shuddering climax.
“Fuck, yes,” whispered Roger. Jeremy rattled his chair fit to dent the floor tiles. And Marie came, violently, into Laura’s triumphant face.
Laura sat back on her heels, beaming and exhilarated. Why had she not realised how enjoyable the simple and unselfish bestowal of pleasure could be? This opened up a new world to her.
“Oh my God,” she babbled. “I’ve never given head—to a man or a woman—because I always thought, you know, ‘What’s in it for me?’ But that was fantastic. I could do it all over again.”
“Very good, for a novice.” Marie indulgently ruffled Laura’s hair. “Thank you, my dear.” She leaned over to kiss her cheek.
/> “Well, I think our Laura deserves a bit of undivided attention now,” said Roger. Both women, having virtually forgotten about the male element of their threesome, looked over to find him naked and erect and raring to go. “Come over here, love.”
Laura stepped off the bed and walked over to Roger, mentally decapitating him and replacing Rocky’s head on Roger’s otherwise more than acceptably buff body. Luckily for the maintenance of this illusion, he spun her around so that she faced Jeremy and her bottom pressed into Roger’s half-marathon-running thighs.
“Take a look at this, Jeremy,” he taunted, cupping Laura’s pert breasts with one hand while the other wandered down her belly to the pleasure delta at its base. “One gorgeous woman, your girlfriend, about to be fucked until she comes over and over again, right in front of you. What are you going to do about that, sport?”
Jeremy gibbered into the ball gag. Roger laughed, pushing a thick thumb up inside Laura’s cunt.
“Oh, that’s right. There’s absolutely nothing you can do. Except sit and watch while your girl takes cock that isn’t yours. She’s already eaten my wife’s fanny out. Now she’s going to get her hole filled so well she’ll be back for more as often as she can get it. ’Cause Laura here needs a real man, Jeremy. A man who can make her scream. Isn’t that right, Laura?”
“Oh yes,” agreed Laura, transposing Roger’s lighter voice into Rocky’s baritone growl inside her head. “That’s right.” She rolled her hips, pushing her bottom backwards.
“Okay, Laura, reverse cowgirl. I get to see your arse in front of me and your tits in the mirror. And Jeremy gets to see you slide up and down my pole. Win-win, eh?”
Roger pulled Laura along with him, back to the bed, seating himself first, then positioning Laura in his lap, where she squirmed against his hard cock wedging itself into the crack of her bottom. When his upper body fell away from her, thumping down onto the bed in a supine sprawl, she parted her legs to straddle his waist, facing Jeremy while the other man’s cock nestled against her mons, springy and full of vigour.
Erotic Amusements Page 15
