Message-ID: <29512asstr$985461005@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <NiteSweats@aol.com> From: NiteSweats@aol.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit X-Original-Message-ID: <a6.11c5e131.27ed9030@aol.com> Subject: {ASSM} RP - T19 The Club {Titmouse} (MF,MF) Date: Sat, 24 Mar 2001 14:10:05 -0500 Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org> Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/29512> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: kelly, gill-bates T19 The Club {Titmouse} (MF,MF) ------------------------------- WARNING NOTICE: The following story is erotic fiction and includes descriptions of explicit sex. If you are a minor or if such things offend you, quit reading now. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Club by Titmouse (C)1998, All Rights Reserved 1. Introduction to the Club The Club had several levels, although even many of those who had visited several times knew only of the first two. The first level was the public bar, open to all, with a DJ and dance floor. The second, also open to the public but requiring a $5 admission, was a topless bar featuring some of the most beautiful women in the city. Both levels were busy on weekdays and packed on weekends. To enter the second level, you paid the bouncer at the bottom of the stairs, walked up the stairs to the bouncer who guarded the top, and entered the lounge through a set of doors. The second door opened only after the first was closed, allowing a maximum of four people to enter at a time. Inside was a central pit of tables ringed by three stages, with a bar along the fourth wall. Dancers rotated from stage to stage, pausing between sessions to work the crowd of mostly -- although not exclusively -- male patrons. Raunchy music, perfectly suiting the hip-grinding, tit-shaking needs of the dancers, pounded constantly, making conversation difficult except in the brief pauses between numbers. When the girls talked to customers, it was necessary to lean in close to hear. Since this provided a look down already low-cut cleavages, everyone tried to think of things to say to the circulating women -- not that they were hard to talk to. It was part of the job. To enter higher levels, you had to be a member of the Club, innocuously named the Management Training Association of Los Angeles. This required payment of the $25 annual membership fee, a careful ID check, and a signed statement affirming, among other things, that you were not associated with any law enforcement agency. Once a membership card with picture was issued, entrance to the Back Room was free, although few left without spending considerable money on drinks and tips for the dancers. Back Room dancers stripped all the way, and the standards were even higher here than in the outer lounge. All of the girls were drop-dead knockouts and terrific dancers besides. After midnight, the Back Room got really raunchy, and the later it got, the raunchier it got. Not satisfied with displaying themselves, the dancers fondled their breasts and pussies, rubbed their clits, and inserted fingers and other objects into themselves. One girl was notorious for grabbing a customer's empty longneck beer bottle (or even a partially empty one) and sliding it first into her mouth and then into her snatch. Another often brought a dildo with her. There seemed to be dozens of girls working the Back Room. You had to stay for several hours to see one repeat. A careful observer would note that, after working the Back Room's two stages and making a trip or two around the tables, some of the girls would slip into the dressing room and not reappear for an hour or two. Sometimes, in the brief lull beween songs, you might hear music from elsewhere in the Club. Most assumed it was from one of the outer areas, but some members knew better. For there was yet another level to the Club. Knowledge of its existence spread by word of mouth from friend to friend, and no one was allowed to join without a sponsor. The cost was $50 a year, but many paid it gladly. There were additional requirements that, as a condition of continued membership, nobody was allowed to reveal in advance. To my knowledge, no one ever violated this condition. I certainly won't. Members of Level 4, as it was known, entered through the door marked 'Manager' at the end of the hall where the restrooms were located. The door was locked, but it would be opened if you knocked the right way. Inside, a team of bouncers checked your identification carefully and, if you passed, allowed you through yet another door that led to a stairway. Descending two flights, you found another final door that led to the club area know as the Basement, since that was where it was located. The Basement made the Back Room look tame. It had only one stage, but the only dance performed there was nature's oldest. Live sex shows took place every two hours on weekends, and they got dirtier and more elaborate as the evening got later. Between shows, porn flicks were projected on two large screens at either side of the room. Meanwhile, bare-breasted women circulated among the tables (distinct from the waitresses, who were equally good looking but dressed in various revealing costumes). The topless ones were the same women who performed on the stage (and sometimes in the movies). After a show, the girl would disappear to tidy up and repair their makeup, then emerge to join the parade. All of them were friendly and would often chat with customers for several minutes before moving on. If you were nice and friendly and not too pushy, you might wind up with one on your lap. If you tipped them, they might offer to let you touch their gorgeous breasts or even suckle briefly on a nipple. Sometimes they touched you back. There was another popular entertainment that ran throughout the night. Special waitresses sold numbered tickets from a double roll for $5 each, and you could buy as many as you liked. The matching halves were deposited in a large glass urn and a running total was entered. When the total hit $250, the Basement's manager, a handsome man in evening clothes, would switch a spotlight to the pedestal where the urn rested and call up one of the bare-breasted women. She would reach into the urn and select a ticket at random, handing it to the manager to read into his microphone. The lucky winner was escorted by the girl through a door next to the urn and taken to a room where, within reason, he could do anything he wanted with her for as long as he lasted. After a ticket was selected, the manager dumped out the tickets and started the counter at zero again. The winner was almost always present to collect his prize. It was rarely necessary to draw a second ticket, since few who bought tickets left before the next drawing. The drawings were, naturally, very popular, since you might win a session with a gorgeous woman for as little as $5. By the time the half-hour sex show was over (it was never interrupted for drawings) two or three times the necessary amount might accumulate. In these cases, contributions would be cut off at the next multiple of $250, and a series of girls would draw for winners. On a good night, there might be 20 or more drawings in the course of the evening. Of course, you didn't have to wait for a winning ticket. All the performers were available for private sessions. The price was a flat $250, and it bought you almost anything and everything. Some members had special needs, and not every girl was willing to meet them. But you could always switch to someone more amenable. If the one you chose declined, she would politely do her best to find someone who would. When there was more than one possibility, you could even see a picture of her on the TV screen in each of the girl's rooms. (When not being used for such special purposes, the screens played continuous x-rated movies.) Many of the members of this inner circle speculated about whether further levels of the Club existed beyond the Basement. There were many theories of what such additional levels might offer, but no one seemed to know. Still, we talked about it among ourselves. If there were additional levels, some of those in the Basement surely knew of it. Someday, one of them might be prepared to let you in on the secret. 2. The Show is On I had joined Level 4 the previous week, thanks to sponsorship from my friend, Ted, who had been a member for several months. My membership card arrived in Wednesday's mail, and I was eager to try it out. I called Ted, and we arranged to meet in the bar at 9 p.m. on Friday night. After a few moment's conversation, we went up the stairs to the topless club and headed for the restrooms. Nobody paid any attention to us, not with dancers on stage. Ted knocked on the door marked "Manager" and we were admitted. Our membership was checked again by one bouncer and then we were passed through the other door by a second. We walked down the two flights of stairs and entered the Basement. The stage was empty as we entered, and a sex movie was being projected on two walls. Over at the pedestal where the urn for tickets sat, the tote board was flashing "$250," and the floor manager was walking toward it, accompanied by a slim Asian girl wearing bright blue hot pants and matching high heels. Her bare breasts were large for her small size, and I suspected they had been enhanced. A spotlight tracked them across the room. "Ladies and gentlemen," the floor manager announced, presumably including the waitresses and working girls since there were no female customers, "we have reached the magic $250 mark for the third time this evening. To perform the honors, would you please give a nice Basement welcome to Miss Tina, one of our newest performers." There was a round of applause for the very pretty girl which included hoots and catcalls of various kinds. Tina appeared to be barely into her 20s. When the noise died down, the floor manager continued. "Now as soon as I mix these tickets..." he said, reaching into the urn and turning the contents over a handfull at a time, "we'll have our drawing. Miss Tina," he said, stepping back, "would you please select a ticket." Standing on her tiptoes and looking at the audience, the girl reached over the rim, stirred the contents again and, frowning with concentration, chose and withdrew a ticket stub. She handed it to the floor manager. "And the winner is... two, oh, one, six, three" read the floor manager. Throughout the room, heads were bowed as customers studied their tickets. He repeated the number and asked, "Do we have a winner?" A tall man with curly blond hair at a table near the stage raised his hand, stood up and started walking toward the floor manager and the girl. He was grinning from ear-to-ear. When he reached them, he handed his ticket to the floor manager who compared it to the ticket that had been drawn and then smiled. "We have a winner, ladies and gentlemen!" he announced. He and Tina each took one of the man's hands and raised them in victory. "Congratulations, sir!" the floor manager said. "Miss Tina, would you please escort our winner to your studio." Still clutching the man's hand, Tina led him off through the door next to the pedestal. The man, who towered over her by more than a foot, was blushing furiously as he disappeared through the door, sent off with a round of applause and shouts of "Good luck!" and "Go get her!" "And now, friends, back to the action!" the manager cried enthusiastically. He tilted the urn over, dumping the remaining tickets onto the floor. Then, he pressed a button on the side of the tote board, resetting the display to zero. After that example, Ted had no difficulty persuading me to buy a ticket when the waitress came to take our drink orders. We each bought two, in fact. As she left our table, the waitress passed by the urn, dropped in the other halves of our tickets and pressed a button four times, adding $20 to the $35 that was already recorded. By the time she returned with our drinks, the total was up to $95. It was quite a charge, I have to tell you, to sit there sipping at a drink and watch the goings-on. The adult movie had resumed, and it was showing an orgy involving two women and three men who kept switching partners and positions and combinations as the movie progressed. Meanwhile, waitresses and "performers" circulated around the room. The waitresses would have been a sufficient attraction anyplace else. They were all pretty and dressed in a variety of costumes -- belly dancers, maids, swimsuits, and such -- all of which featured plunging necklines and push-up bras. But the performers put them to shame, such that you wouldn't even bother to look at a waitress unless she was bending over your table. All the working girls were topless, and their tops were well worth revealing. They came in a variety of colors from milk white to ebony and all the tans between. Below the waist, their costumes varied except in being short and tight, exposing long legs (and sometimes more) that ended in stilt-high heels. One girl, Karin, stopped to talk with us. She was wearing red hot pants and heels, with a gold choker necklace. Her skin was a deep tan color, her areolas somewhat darker and tipped with still darker nipples, both of which were pierced by small gold loops. She was Persian, she said, and her family had fled Iran just as the revolution started, when she was little more than a baby. We had only been talking a few minutes, however, when a soft gong sounded. Karin looked over toward the floor manager's stand and saw that a small, red bulb was lit. "'Scuse me," she said, smiling at Ted and me. "I'm on next." We watched Karin walk to the side of the room and slip through the same door used by Miss Tina and the most recent raffle winner. A few minutes later, the porno movie was switched off and the room lights were lowered until only the floor manager, illuminated by a spotlight, was visible. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please. The Basement is proud to present a little performance for your enjoyment. Now appearing on our main stage, would you please give a rousing Basement welcome to Miss Karin and her companion, Studley Dan!" The spotlight winked out and the stage lights came on, revealing the red velvet curtain that was rapidly opening. It revealed a woman's boudoir, or at least the suggestion of one. A large canopied bed occupied the center of the stage. At one side was a woman's vanity and seated before the large mirror on a bench was Miss Karin, wearing a filmy negligee over a light blue babydoll nightie. Karin was brushing her hair, which made her ample breasts stick out prominently and bob back and forth with her motions. Karin seemed to notice them herself, for she stopped, laid down the brush and, lacing her fingers behind her neck, jutted her chest forward and waggled her shoulders to make her breasts shift back and forth on her chest. After entertaining herself in this manner for a few moments, Karin dropped her hands to her tits. She cupped one in either hand and began to lift, knead and pull on them. In the "outside" window on the other side of the stage room, the figure of a man appeared, although I was never certain whether he had moved there or whether my eyes had simply adjusted to the availabe light. In any case, the man was enjoying the show Karin was puting on for us. He watched as she massaged her own breasts. After doing so for a while, she slipped a hand under her shortie nightgown and moved it up to resume kneading it. Karin let her head fall back, eyes closed, while she worked on herself. Her other hand dropped to stroke and then scratch at her thighs. A short time later, Karin slipped this hand under her nightgown, too, but instead of raising it to her other breast, she pushed it down into her panties and began to stroke herself there. The man outside also dropped a hand to his middle and began to rub his prick through his pants. Karin continued to massage her tit and pussy for a while, her head back and her mouth open, making little moaning sounds and whimpers that were faintly audible. Gradually, the intensity of her movements and the sounds she was making rose in a slow crescendo. Just when Karin was moaning louder, her hand making rapid circles inside her panties, the man hidden outside suddenly grasped the bottom of the window and threw it up. Wasting no time, he already had a leg over the window sill by the time Karin reacted to the sound of the window. Ducking his head, he jumped into the room. Karin let out a shriek, pulled her hands out of her panties and from under her nightgown and jumped to her feet. Looking frantically from side to side but having nowhere to run, Karin moved to put the bed between her and the intruder. The man was tall and white, with dark hair and big shoulders. He was tall, over six feet, and almost handsome except for a nose that was too wide and a mouth that was too small. He began to stalk her, moving sideways around the bed. Karin matched him, keeping the bed between them. "Don't be difficult," he said. "I don't want to hurt you. I just want to give you what you were thinking about." Karin said nothing, just kept her eyes on the man and circled around the bed. He tried to dash around it and catch her, but she was as quick as he was. The intruder could not get close enough to grab her, although he came close twice, the last time when he suddenly stopped and reversed direction. His fingers actually grazed the negligee that billowed out behind Karin, but he could not get a grip on it. Finally, the man stopped and bent over, one hand on the bed, as if he was trying to catch his breath. Then, suddenly, he leaped across the bed, stretching out and reaching for Karin. He got a hand on her thigh, just above her knee, but she tore lose from his grasp, leaving the man sprawled across the bed. Taking advantage of his momentary immobility, Karin spun around and raced for the door. She almost made it, too, but the door opened inward and she had to pull it open instead of bursting through it. The man recovered quickly, jumped after her, and caught Karin just as she started through the doorway. "GOD DAMMIT!" he roared, grabbing her roughly around the neck and flinging her backward into the room. She reeled off balance toward the center of the room, bumped into the bed and sat down awkwardly. The man slammed the door and leaped after her. Karin tried to jump up, but the man was too quick for her. As she was pushing to her feet, the intruder reached her and unleashed a roundhouse slap that cracked across her cheek, spun her around and dumped her onto the bed. (It was a fake slap, of course, but it looked real.) "That'll teach you, bitch!" the man snarled. Karin tried to push up from the bed, shaking her head in an attempt to clear it. The man grabbed the back of her negligee at her neck and pulled strongly. It ripped away, most of it coming away in the man's hand. One of the sleeves remained around Karin's arm. "Stay put or I'll have to hit you again," the man growled. Karin ignored his warning and tried to crawl away from him across the bed. He grabbed her by the arm, spun her around, and slapped her face again. She felt back, momentarily stunned. The man reached down quickly, grabbed the nightgown near the neck and gave a strong tug. The material gave, tearing partway down her front and revealing a glimpse of Karin's breasts. He slid his hand down the tear and yanked again, this time completing the job. The nightgown parted all the way to the hem. Karin's dark tan body was revealed, naked under the torn gown except for the matching light blue panties. The gold hoops that pierced her nipples gleamed in the spotlight. "I warned you," the intruder snarled. "Now, do what I say if you know what's good for you." Karin was crying, an arm thrown across her face. The man reached down and grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to a sitting position. With his other hand, he reached down and pawed at her breasts. "Take my cock out, bitch," the man growled. When Karin hesitated, he yanked on her hair. Karin was weeping. Slowly, reluctantly, she raised her hands to the man's pants and began to fumble with his zipper. She tugged it down. "Go ahead, bitch," the man ordered. "Take it out." Karin inserted a hand through the open fly. Using her other hand to move material out of the way, she pulled the man's tool out. The head emerged first. It was large enough that Karin's hand could not wrap all the way around it. She pulled on it, guiding it into view. More and more of it emerged. She pulled again and even more slid into view, drawing a gasp from some members of the audience. It was obviously a huge cock, although it was only half erect. Even as we watched, it swelled in Karin's hand, extending outward and raising up. It had to be nearly a foot long. Karin shrank backward from the sight of it. "Where do you think you're going?" the man growled. "I want you to suck my cock." Karin shook her head no, then ducked when the man raised his hand to strike her again. "Do it, bitch," he snarled, "or I'll make you wish you had." Slowly, Karin turned her head back toward the mammoth prick. The man still had her by the hair, and he used his handhold to draw her toward him. He pulled her forward until the end of his dick bumped against her closed mouth. "Open up, you cunt," the man said. "Suck it for me. I want you to do a good job on me." He yanked on her hair again for emphasis. Reluctantly, Karin's lips parted around the head of the enormous fucktool. We could see it stretch her jaws wide as the head, which seemed to swell at the contact, pushed into her mouth. Karin's eyes bulged as she strained to take it in. "Come on," the man ordered. "Use your tongue! Lick it good, bitch. Suck on it!" He hunched his hips forward a little, pushing more of his tool into Karin's mouth. He reached out with his other hand and grabbed her hair on the other side. Then, using his double handhold, he began to push and pull on her head, moving her mouth back and forth on his cock. Karin tried to protest, but all that emerged around the mouthful of prick was an inarticulate cry of discomfort. "Why should I be doing all the work?" the man complained. "Take hold of it with your hands, bitch. Come on, you do some of the work!" As much in self defense as anything, Karin raised her hands to the massive prick that was attempting to push down her throat. The shaft was so large that her fingers did not quite join around it. The length of the thing was also clearly revealed. Karin was gripping it in both hands like a baseball bat, and there was still a considerable extent on either side. Although she couldn't really slide her mouth back and forth on the man's cock, Karin was able to do a better job now that she had control of it. She slid her hands up and down on the shaft and twisted her head around on the knob at the end of it. This seemed to satisfy her attacker, as he stood there quietly for the moment, sometimes watching Karin closely as she worked on his tool, sometimes throwing his head back and savoring the feeling as she manipulated it with her mouth and hands. After a minute or two, however, he stepped back, pulling his prick away from her. "That's enough of that! Now, lay back on the bed." He shoved Karin roughly on the shoulder. "No, PLEASE!" she begged, raising up on one arm. "Don't, please! Let me make you cum that way. Don't put it in me! Please! I can't take it. It's too big!" "Shut up, bitch!" the man ordered, shoving her down onto her back. "You'll take it and like it. But first I'm going to eat some of your pussy!" He reached out, grabbed the waist of her panties, and dragged them down Karin's legs. She kicked at him, but that actually helped rather than hindering him in getting them off her. He dodged her kick easily, pulled the panties over her feet, and tossed them to one side. "Spread 'em, babe, and let me kiss your sweet pussy," he ordered. "If you don't, I'll just shove this cock in you now, and you know that's gonna hurt you worse." Karin didn't spread her legs for him, but neither did she resist when he put his hands on her knees and pushed them apart. The man knelt beside the bed between her legs and shoved his face into Karin's middle, extending his tongue to probe into her even before his face reached her pussy. She jerked as his tongue wormed its way into her. The man grabbed her by the hips to hold her still and began to lick and flick and gnaw at her. At first, Karin just lay there, an arm over her face, while the man nuzzled her private parts. But soon, like it or not, it began to get to her. Her arm dropped away and she arched her back. Her hips moved involuntarily, shifting restlessly and sporadically from side to side at first, then slowly begin to move more rhythmically. She began to push her pussy up to the invading tongue, accepting it, enjoying it despite herself, slowly becoming aroused by the continuous attack on her pussy. But her attacker was not much concerned with giving Karin pleasure. Satisfied that she was wet enough to accommodate his massive prong, he pulled back and stood up, leaving her lying there, legs apart, her raven- haired pussy gleaming. With a quick move, he unfastened the top button of his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. His naked cock was even more impressive now that clothing no longer masked the base of it. Rampantly erect, it stood out from his body, although its length made it droop from the horizontal. Pushing at Karin's knees, he moved her back on the bed to make room for him, coincidentally positioning her so that the audience had a clear view. The man crawled between Karin's legs, pushing her knees wide apart, and nudged her pussy with his cockhead. "Put it in, bitch," he ordered, grabbing one of Karin's arms by the wrist and pushing it down toward her middle. "No, please," she pleaded. "It's too big! It'll split me apart." "Don't give me any crap," the man snarled. "I'm going to fuck you whether you like it or not. Now do as I say. PUT IT IN!" He slapped her shoulder for emphasis. Reluctantly, Karin reached down between them and grasped his pussy-sticker. She guided it to her notch, rubbing the purple head between the lips of her pussy to lubricate it before pushing it downward to the entrance of her cocksheath. With a grunt, her attacked shoved his hips forward and drove his tool into her opening, lodging the massive head in her funnel. Karin shrieked and tried to pull away, but the man grabbed her hips and held her in place. He hunched his hips downward again and forced another inch into channel. "Hold still, you cunt," he growled. "You can take it. Don't make me hurt you any more than necessary." He pulled back slightly and then slammed forward again, then again and again. Each shove of the rampant cuntsticker brought another cry from Karin, her head whipping back and forth. Now well lodged in her pussy, the man let go of Karin's hips and grabbed her wrists, pinning her to the bed. His huge pole was now about half way into her, but a considerable length remained visible between their bodies. Leaning forward and getting his weight on it, Karin's assailant drove his cock downward and into her body. She struggled against the intrusion, kicking her legs and trying futilely to pull her wrists free from the man's grasp, but to no avail. Slowly, steadily, the swollen shaft sank into her pussy. He couldn't get it all into her. When he hit bottom, causing Karin to cry out in sharp pain, there was perhaps two inches still outside. After hammering at her several times in an effort to push the remainder into her, the man gave up, pulled back and still back until only the head was in Karin's battered channel, then roughly shoved it all the way back into her until it struck bottom again. Eyes closed, a look of exquisite pleasure on his face, her assailant began to stroke in and out of her tightly stretched fuckhole. Tiring of this after a minute, the man pulled back and slid his tool out of Karin's pussy. Resting on his knees, he grabbed one of her arms and dragged it across her body, turning her onto a shoulder. "Get on your knees, bitch," he ordered roughly. "I want to fuck you from behind." He continued to push and pull at Karin while she slowly complied. When she was on her hands and knees, he moved up behind her and, putting a hand on her neck, pushed her head down toward the bed. When her ass was elevated to his satisfaction, he grabbed his tool in one hand and guided it back to Karin's gaping snatch, keeping the other hand on her back to hold her in position. When the head of his cock was lodged into the entrance, the man moved both hands to Karin's hips and, tugging backward on them while hunching forward with his hips, drove his tool into her pussy again. Karin, her face turned toward the audience, winced and whimpered as the fat mantool was driven into her body. "Ahhhh," the man sighed, "that's better. Now, get ready for the ride of your life. And don't just lie there, you bitch. Fuck me back!" He began to sling his cock in and out of her, then, setting a rapid pace as he plowed her furrow. After he slapped Karin's ass loudly, she began to move with him, rolling her hips languorously around and around the pole that was sliding in and out of her pussy. "Oh, yeah, babe, that's a lot better," the man said through gritted teeth. "Yeah, just like that. Fuck it! Give me that pussy! Come on, bitch. Work at it!" It was clear from his moans and from the increasingly rapid thrusts that the man was going to cum soon. His ass was flying back and forth as he whipped his massive tool into Karin's pussy. His head was thrown back and his mouth was open in a silent cry of pleasure. "Ahhh, fuck it. Fuck it. That's it. Come on, give it to me. Give me that tight pussy. Oh, shit. I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna shoot it. Keep on. Don't stop. Fuck me! Yes! Yes! That's it. I... yes... I'm... I'm CUMMMMMING!" With a shout, the man jerked his cock out, grabbed it in one hand and began jacking it off. Cum shot out of the tip, arching up in spurts over Karin's ass and spattering onto her back. Guiding the head back to her pussy, he shoved his tool up her, once again burying it as deeply as possible into her. Karin's legs slowly collapsed, her knees sliding backward as she gradually spread out on the bed. The man followed her down, keeping his cock deep in her channel. He arched his back, holding his upper body away from her, supporting himself on stiffened arms. Suddenly, the stage lights went out, and the spotlight picked up the floor manager at his station. Applause began slowly but then mounted quickly to thunder through the room. The floor manager shouted "Ladies and gentlemen... Miss Karin and Studley Dan!" and the stage lights came back up to reveal the two standing side by side, holding hands. Dan had pulled his pants back up and Karin was wrapped in a green tunic that belted at her waist and ended at mid-thigh. They both bowed to the applauding room and the stage lights went out again. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen," the floor manager said as the applause died out. "We'll have another show at midnight. Please enjoy yourselves until then." The house lights came back up, and the porno flick resumed where it had left off. 3. Luck of the Draw Ted and I each took a swallow of our drinks, which had sat there unnoticed during the entire performance. "Wow," I said, "that was something. And you say this goes on every night?" "Just on Fridays and Saturdays," Ted replied, which I already knew but had momentarily forgotten. "Sometimes they have special events, but most weekdays it's just the flicks and the raffle. And whatever else you feel like buying." "So all these girls are for hire?" I asked. "Not the waitresses, but, yeah, they're all available," Ted said. We chatted over our drinks for the next few minutes, glancing at the porno movie from time to time. We were interrupted by the sound of a gong and the dimming of the house lights again. The spotlight once again picked up the floor manager who was striding toward the platform where the urn of tickets waited; the tote board beside it was once again flashing -- this time with $500. Following close behind him were two topless females -- a beautiful, tall black woman wearing red hot pants and very high heels, and an equally beautiful, somewhat shorter blonde dressed in an ice- blue bathing suit bottom and platform sandals. "Ladies and gentlemen, we've accumulated enough raffle tickets for a double," the floor manager announced. "Won't you welcome our two prizes -- Miss Jennifer and Miss Andrea!" There was an enthusiastic round of applause from the house as first the blonde, then the black woman bowed as they were introduced. Both were stunning. There was a rustle throughout the room as members found their ticket stubs and prepared for the drawing. I arranged my two tickets in front of me. The floor manager put his arm inside the urn and stirred the tickets around. "Miss Andrea, would you please draw a ticket?" he requested. The taller woman reached a dark arm into the urn and quickly withdrew a ticket, which she handed to the floor manager. "The winning number is... two, oh, seven, one, nine." He repeated the number and asked "Do we have a winner present?" I was staring in stunned silence at my two tickets -- 20719 and 20720. I looked up at Ted, my mouth gaping open. "Don't tell me," he said. "You won on your FIRST DRAWING?" I nodded numbly. He stuck his hand up and waved at the floor manager. "Over here!" he called. Then, quieter, he urged me, "Go on, dummy. Go get her!" I stood and began to walk toward the floor manager, clutching my ticket. Applause, catcalls and envious looks surrounded me as I made my way to the front. When I reached it, I handed my ticket to the floor manager, who compared it to the one he had in his hand and then gave me a big smile. "YES!" he shouted, "we have our first winner!" Holding the microphone against his chest to muffle it, he said "Stand over there next to Miss Andrea, if you would, sir, while we draw the second winner." I walked toward the black woman, who held out her hand to me and guided me to stand between her and the floor manager. While he was having the other girl draw a ticket, I looked more closely at the one standing next to me. Her hair was long, straightened, and drawn back into a tight ponytail. With high cheekbones and arched eyebrows, she could have looked haughty, but she was smiling widely, her generous red lips open to reveal her white teeth. She was very beautiful. Below the neck, she was equally gorgeous. Her naked breasts were large but not excessively so, projecting boldly from her chest and scarcely drooping despite the lack of support. Otherwise, she was slightly thin, and her torso tapered over her ribs to a narrow waist. Her hips flared out from there, and her ass was slightly enlarged as is common with black women. The red hip-hugger shorts fit her tightly, the swell of her pussy mound clearly evident between her muscular thighs. Her long legs tapered downward, swelling nicely at the calves. In her high heels, she was nearly as tall as my own six feet, but I guessed her to be about 5'8" without them. Meanwhile, the other girl, Jennifer, had drawn a ticket and a second winner was on the way toward us. He was short, dumpy and nearly bald, and I caught an amused exchange of glances between the two women, in which Jennifer ran her eyes down my own fairly well kept body, then smiled ruefully at Andrea. The fat man's ticket was quickly checked and confirmed. The floor manager grabbed one of my hands while Andrea took the other and Jennifer was doing the same at the far end of our little line. They raised our hands high in the victory salute. "Congratulations, gentlemen!" crowed the manager. "Enjoy yourselves over the next several minutes. Miss Andrea, Miss Jennifer, would you please escort our winners to your studios!" Jennifer led us through the nearby door, pulling her winner behind her, followed by Andrea and then me. Behind us, applause and shouts rolled through the room, suddenly muffled by the closing of the door. Andrea took my hand with a smile and led me to the second door on the left. Inside, the small room was dark except for one red and one blue bulb, each inside a small shade, that were located in opposite corners near the ceiling. There was a queen-sized pallet on the thickly-carpeted floor along one wall, a padded side chair without arms, a dresser with various brushes and cosmetics, and an alcove with sink next to a door into her bathroom. The rest of the room, walls and ceiling, were covered with panels of mirror. "Come on over here, honey," Andrea said, leading me to the alcove. "Now, just what did you have in mind?" "Uh... I guess... uh..." I said, trying not to be nervous but stuttering anyway, "how about a... a blowjob and... then maybe just a straight lay to finish off?" This was not the first time I had used a whore. It was the second. "Half and half," Andrea said. "You just get to cum once, you know." "Yeah," I said. "That's fine." "Okay, honey," Andrea said, "let's get you cleaned up. Unfasten your pants, okay?" While I unbuttoned my pants and pulled the zipper down, she turned to the sink and started hot water running. I stood there feeling foolish while she tested the water's temperature, pulled up on the lever that lowered the stopper, and ran a couple of inches of water into the basin, testing it with her fingers. She shut off the water, picked up a washcloth and bar of soap, and turned back to me. "Pull your pants down, baby," she said smiling. "I can't wash it through your shorts." Feeling stupid, I pushed my pants and underwear down over my butt to mid-thigh. My dick hung there limply. "Ooh, you got a nice one," Andrea said, and while I didn't believe it was anything but part of her routine I couldn't help feeling a little pleased. She took my prick in her light tan palm and milked it, looking carefully at the end for any sign of leakage. Satisfied, apparently, she dropped the washcloth in the basin, wrung it out, and turned back to me with a small plastic basin in one hand. "Here," Andrea said, "hold this under here." She positioned the basic under my dick to protect my clothes and her floor and proceeded to wash me with soap and water, then rinsed out the washcloth in the basin and cleaned the soap off. "There you go, honey, all nice and fresh for me." Andrea took the basin from me and set it on the sink counter. "Why don't you slip those pants off?" she said, pointing toward the chair. While I kicked off my shoes, then sat down and pulled off socks, pants and underwear, Andrea quickly tidied up the wash basin. We finished about the same time, and she turned to find me watching her. Smiling, she walked over and stood in front of me. "Like what you see, baby?" she asked, putting a hand under either breast and bouncing them gently with her palms. Then, squeezing slightly, she ran her thumbs down the tops, catching the nipples between thumb and forefinger and pulling on them. "Oooh," she said, "I'm in the mood myself. You're my first one tonight." Andrea dropped her hands to her thighs and then ran them up to either side of her mound, pressed inward, and dragged her fingers along her pussy. "Um, yes," she sighed, "I'm glad you wanted some pussy, not just a blowjob. I'm definitely in the mood." Her fingers move to the button on her hotpants. Andrea popped the snap and pulled the zipper down. Sliding her thumbs into the waist, she wriggled them down over her generous hips, rocking from side to side to help. My eyes were all over the room, watching her reflection in the mirrors, then the real person in front of me. She was not wearing any panties. Her black, curly bush was trimmed into a narrow, inverted triangle that was small enough to hide under a bikini. The shorts dropped around her ankles, and Andrea stepped out of them daintily, still wearing her high heels. She squatted down to pick up the shorts and tossed them onto the dresser, then turned back to face me, hands on hips. "Come on, honey," Andrea said. "It's okay to touch." She jutted her hips toward me, making it clear where she wanted me to touch. Obediently, I put my hand on her leg and ran it up her thigh. When it bumped against her pussy, I cupped my palm over her mound and let my middle finger slide between the lips. She was slippery, whether from natural or artificial lubrication, and my finger went in easily. I pushed it up her vagina as far as I could and wiggled it inside her. "Oooooh," Andrea moaned faintly, "that's the spot. That's definitely the spot." She rolled her hips in a circle, helping to work my finger inside her pussy. Keeping her legs spread so that my hand had unimpeded access to her crotch, Andrea leaned forward and began to unfasten the button of my shirt. "Let's get this off," she said, "so I can feel your chest against my tits when you fuck me." She continued to work her hips back and forth and around and around while she unbuttoned my shirt. Her large lips were puckered in a moue of sensuous enjoyment as her fingers worked down my chest and over my stomach. "Yes, baby, yessss," she murmured, "that's right, push your finger in there. I like that." I dragged my finger forward over her clitoris and was surprised to feel it prominently large, as big and as firm as a child's fingertip. She jerked when I flicked it and sucked in her breath. I had assumed that Andrea's apparent arousal was just an act, part of her professional services, but it's impossible to fake an erect pleasure bump. She slid her hands inside my shirt just under my armpits and pushed inward, making my chest swell into small tits, then leaned forward to lick and suck at my nipples. I raised my other hand and cupped one of her breasts, squeezing gently and pressing upward. Andrea wriggled from side to side, moving her chest against my full hand. With a sigh, Andrea began to sink to her knees, slowly pulling my finger out of her pussy and my hand away from her breast. She knelt in front of me and scooted forward between my legs. Her tits brushed my thighs, the nipples hard and projecting. She lifted her tits and laid them on top of my thighs. "I believe you wanted me to suck on this thing a while," she said, taking my cock in both hands. "I want to get it good and hard so you can fuck me with it. I like it hard and deep." With her hands covering all but the head, Andrea lowered her mouth to my dick. I watched her in the nearest mirror, which showed the view from the side. Opening her lips, she extended her tongue and licked the underside like a lollipop several times. Then she lowered her head more and took it into her mouth, sucking hard enough to make her cheeks hollow while working her tongue back and forth underneath and rocking her head from side to side. I couldn't help giving a little moan of appreciation. "Oh, you like that, honey?" Andrea said, popping her head off my prick. "Then you'll probably like this, too." She put her mouth back around the head of my dick, let go with both her hands, and in one smooth move slid her tightly gripping lips all the way down the shaft, taking my cock into her throat. She proved that she had it all by working her lips at the bottom, sucking on the base. Then, bending the stem downward so that she could look upward and catch my eyes, she worked her throat on the head, as if she was trying to swallow it whole. Thank god it was still attached. Sliding back up my cock until just the head was in her mouth again, Andrea wrapped a hand around the shaft and began to rock back and forth, keeping her fist close to her lips so that mouth and hand formed one long tube. Her slim, clutching fingers slid up and down my prick and jacked me off into her mouth, the thumb sliding along the underside all the way up to the twin bumps on the bottom of my cockhead, while her tightly pressed lips clamped my lovestalk and her tongue lashed back and forth. It was wonderful, it was exquisite, it was as good a blowjob as I had ever had. I'm afraid I moaned again. And again. Andrea slipped my prick out of her mouth and smiled at me. "Now, don't get to liking it too much," she said. "After all, you're supposed to put this cuntsticker in my pussy and fuck me silly with it, right?" "Right," I groaned, sagging back in the chair. Andrea used her hand to jack me off slowly, letting me slow down some while continuing to send waves of pleasure running through my body. She leaned in occasionally to lick the knob of my cock, extending her tongue all the way and lapping at it, giving it a flick with the tip of her tongue. Then, when I had backed away from the edge of orgasm, Andrea moved forward again. Opening her mouth wide, she slowly and carefully moved downward without touching me at all until she reached her fist that was still gripping the shaft. Then she closed her mouth quickly, enveloping about half of it in a tightly sucking tube of writhing mouth and tongue and slowly pulled her head back, her hand sliding up along with it. Once back up to the head, she started pumping her mouth up and down my cock again, squeezing tightly with her fingers as they slid up and down with it. Finally, I could take it no more. I moved a hand to her shoulder and touched it to get her attention. "Stop," I said weakly when she looked up. "Help. Or else..." Andrea smiled around my cock and slowly, sensuously, her tongue whipping back and forth, she pulled her clasping mouth back off my prick, sliding her hand off behind it. "Are you ready for some pussy?" she asked. "Do you wanna stick that lily-white cock of yours into my tight, black honeypot?" Andrea rocked back onto her heels, then stood up. She reached down and wrapped her hand around my prick, pulling me gently toward her. "Come on, baby, let's get on the bed and do some serious fucking." Leading me to pallet that occupied one side of the room, Andrea urged me to sit down and lie back. "C'mon, baby," she said, "you lay down on your back and let Andrea get on top of you. I want some of that hard white meat of yours. C'mon, sugar, let me fuck you." I was happy to oblige. Flopping down on my back, I folded the thin pillow in half and tucked it behind my head. Andrea knelt beside me, then swung one leg over mine like a rider mounting a horse. She pulled open the top drawer of a small nightstand next to the pallet and reached inside. When she pulled her hand back out, she had something on her fingers -- apparently some lubricant, because she moved her hand to her pussy and worked her fingers in her snatch. "Oooh," Andrea said, "maybe I'll just do myself instead of fucking you." She closed her eyes and let her head fall back while she continued to massage her honeypot. My cock stuck up straight just in front of her body, a pole of white flesh that stood out against the background of her darker skin. "Naw," Andrea said opening her eyes, "I guess I'd rather have that meat pole inside me." She pulled her hand out of her crotch and rubbed her fingers on the head of my dick, wiping the lubricant and pussy juices onto it. Then she moved forward on her knees and raised up over me. Sliding her hand toward the base of my prick, Andrea bent it downward and pointed it at her cunt. She lowered herself onto me gradually. I felt the head of my cock nudge between the lips of her pussy and slide backward into her notch. With a little hunch of her hips, Andrea seated it in her fucktube, then began to let herself down on me, swallowing more and more of the shaft. Despite the lubrication and her natural pussy juices, her channel was tight. It yielded to my intruding stalk reluctantly. When I was about half way in her, Andrea stopped and raised up again until once again only the head of my cock was seated in her lovebox. Sliding her hips back and forth a few times, she worked my prick inside her until it slid easily in and out. Then she pressed forward again and slid all the way down onto it until her mound pressed against my pubic bone. "Oh, yeah, honey, that's what I wanted," Andrea said. "Awww, get it all the way up in there, sugar. Let me have it all." I pushed up, tightening my buns and thrusting my cock as far as possible up into her tightly grasping cunt. I rolled my hips around, making it transcribe circles up inside her pussy. "Yes, lover, that's the way to please Momma," Andrea sighed. "Give me that fuckstick!" She raised her hands, running them up over her ribs to cup her tits, letting me fuck her from underneath. She slid her thumbs down across the top of her breasts and pinched the dark nipples between thumb and forefinger, rolling them back and forth. I was as aroused as I had ever been. My prick felt like a stick. I threw myself up into her fuckhole, shoving it as deeply as possible, and rotating my hips each time I hit bottom, grinding my pelvis against her mound to massage her clit. "Ooooh, shit!," Andrea exclaimed, "I almost never cum, baby, but you're gonna make me do it. Ummm... Ummm..." She shoved her hips down on me, trapping me deep inside her, and began to swirl her pelvis around and around, first one way, then the other. "Oh, baby, Momma's gonna kick it!" she cried. She thrust her hips forward, plunging me all the way into her pussy and giving her maximum contact between my cock and her clit. She started whimpering, meanwhile hunching her hips up and down in short, strong jerk. "Oh, yeah, baby... Ummm... Ummm... Oooh... Ooooh... Oh, yessss... Just like that. Oh, God... I'm... I'm... I'm cummmminnnng!" Andrea threw herself forward onto me, pressing her big, soft tits against my chest, whining and crying, her body jerking in sudden jolts as her cum slammed through her. Her head was pulled back, her face contorted into a grimace, her mouth wide open in a silent scream. Then she buried her face in my neck and bit me, hard enough that I was afraid she would break the skin. She shook like a dog throwing off water, a shudder that passed down her back from her neck to her ass, her hips whipping from side to side. Just as she was about to push me over the edge, Andrea let out a big sigh and collapsed onto me. She went completely limp. She was too small for her weight to be onerous, but she had gone completely slack on top of me and might have slid off were it not for the flesh pole that pinned her to my middle. I was still hard, but the cessation of movement let me back off from my own climax, which had been just moments away. "Oooh, honey," Andrea said after a few moments, "that was very, very nice. I haven't come like that in way too long." She began sliding her pussy up and down on me again, slowly and sensuously. I responded by flexing my love muscle, making it swell inside her. "Well," Andrea said, "now I gotta love you especially good. I'm gonna make you come hard, baby. I'm gonna make you blow your wad right up Momma's tight little pussy." She began to raise and lower herself with more authority, shoving her hips forward with a convulsive snap to drive her cunt down onto my cock, then rocking her hips the other way and drawing back slowly, dragging the bottom of her channel erotically along the sensitive underside of the shaft. I started to move in response, but Andrea sat up and put her hands and weight on my hipbones, pinning me to the pallet. "No, let me fuck you, baby," she said. "You just lie there and get it. I'm gonna fuck you silly." Pushing down against my hips, Andea raised her hips until once again only the head of my cock was inside her. She twirled her hips above me, making the tight entrance of her cunt circle around and around on the crown of my prick. She sank down on me again, driving my stem all the way up inside her, then raised up again and repeated the circling move. "You like that, sugar?" Andrea asked. "You like the way I fuck? I can suck that big dick of yours with my pussy. You wanna see how?" She didn't wait for an answer, which was just as well, since I doubt if I could have spoken just then. My mind was on the feel of Andrea's tught, slippery fuckhole as it alternately twirled around the sensitive knob or slid down the shaft until I was entirely buried in her pussy. This time when she pushed down on me, however, Andrea hesitated, getting me all the way into her. Then I felt a strong enveloping grip all along the shaft of my cock as she squeezed me with the muscles of her fucktube. Maintaining the pressure, she slowly drew her hips back, dragging her clasping pussy over and off my rampant hard-on. At the top of her stroke, Andrea relaxed her cunt muscle and pushed back down onto me, then repeated the process again and again. It was like a blowjob, but no mouth could wrap itself tight around the entire length of my cock like Andrea's pussy did. It was like a handjob and blowjob combined, and it got me going again in a hurry. "Jeez, woman, that feels good," I told her. "You're gonna make me blow my wad if you keep that up." "I'm gonna keep it up until you do," Andrea said, a look of concentration on her face as she worked to keep the rhythm going. "But you tell me when you're gonna blow it, baby, 'cause I want to suck the cum out of you with my mouth pussy." "Aw, that's gonna be pretty soon," I gasped. My cock was twitching inside her, and Andrea knew I wasn't kidding. She grasped me with her pussy one last time and pulled upward, this time coming all the way off. Scooting backward, Andrea wrapped a hand around my cock and guided it into her mouth, pushing forward to swallow almost all of it. Where her pussy had been tight and almost gummy, her mouth was wet and slick. Andrea wrapped her lips around my prick tightly, squeezing me with her lips, and lashed at the underside with her tongue. She began plunging her head up and down on my cock, groaning and grunting with the effort. Her hand whipped up and down the shaft, twisting around at the top of each stroke. It was more than enough to push me over the edge. "Oh, jeez, baby, here it comes!" I shouted, as I felt my cum boil up out of my balls and jet through the shaft to spurt into Andrea's sucking, slavering mouth. She cried out in eagerness to get it, twisting her head back and forth and pumping both mouth and hand up and down on me. "Ahhhhh, SHIT! Take it!" I yelled, as I came in her hot, sucking oral cavity. Spasm after spasm wracked me, and jet after jet shot into Andrea's welcoming, dick-sucking mouth. She swallowed hard, then again. Grayish-white cream appeared at the corners of her lips as the overflow seeped out. MY hips arched up from the pallet, bending my whole body into a bow. Then I collapsed, almost yanking my cock out of Andrea's grasp, but she followed me down and swallowed it all again. We lay there for a while. I was unable to speak, except to moan and jerk when Andrea would slide her tongue around the head of my cock, which was so sensitive that it was almost hurting. God what a blowjob, what a fuck it had been! When my dick was getting limp and no more jism could be coaxed out of it, Andrea slowly pulled her head back and off me. We traded smiles. "God, that was good, baby," I told her. "Best ever!" "Glad you like it, sugar," Andrea replied. "Was the least I could do after you made me cum. Most times I'm too busy working to get more than a little pleasure out of it." Mentioning work seemed to bring Andrea back to reality. She began to put her clothes back on -- panties, shoes and shorts. I lay there limply for a while, but when she gave me a look that combined a smile and a cocked eyebrow, I knew she wanted me to get up and get going. That's the problem with whores. Whatever else you can say for them -- simplicity, professionalism, and lack of hang-ups -- you're not going to get to lay around and doze off afterward unless you want to spring for an all-nighter. I struggled to my feet and dragged on my clothes. When we had both put ourselves back together, Andrea made a few more straightening up moves in the room, then led me out the door. We took a different route back, winding up at an unfamiliar door behind which I could hear the throb of music. Andrea stopped, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a deep, passionate kiss. "Thank you, sugar," she said. "I hope you enjoyed yourself. I certainly did." "Oh, yes," I said. "I think you can safely say that I enjoyed myself." She gave me a happy smile, then pulled the door open. It put me back in the Basement corridor near the restrooms. "See you around, sugar," Andrea said, and closed the door behind me. I slipped into the men's room to straighten up, wondering whether anyone would notice or call attention to me when I re-entered the main room and what I was going to say to Ted. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ End (for now) of 'The Club' by Titmouse. Story 19 Author's Note: Pure fantasy. There is no place such as The Club as far as I know. On the other hand, maybe there is. And if there isn't, maybe there should be. I may return to The Club one of these days for more episodes. --- This story, as long as it bears my pseudonym and copyright, is released to the public domain. All my stories are available at: http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Titmouse/www, and http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Titmouse/ SUPPORT ASSTR! -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+