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Authors: Clarissa Fenton

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BOOK: The Belgravia Club
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‘Here, let me help’ she offered,
supporting my waist gently but firmly with her hands. I was so turned on now
that any second thoughts about letting her touch me had disappeared. Claire
seemed to sense this new feeling and began to ease me up and down on Paul’s
cock, whispering encouragement in my ear and lightly kissing my neck while
looking forward over my shoulder at what was going on.


Mmmm
,
that looks so good....that’s right darling....reach round and stroke his
balls....’

We began a faster rhythm and I
could sense Paul was close to coming, so I began to thrust urgently up and down
on him. Having a DD cup bra size can look quite impressive in that position.

‘Oh, look at those beautiful tits
bouncing, don’t they look amazing?’ Gasped Claire, as her fingers lightly
caressed them.

Desperate to come now, I leaned
back, supporting myself with both hands, bucking my hips back and forwards. I
felt the familiar tingling building up but with an amazing new sensation and
looked down to see Claire’s hand almost a blur on my clit, her other hand
caressing and cupping my breasts, and felt her breathily whispering in my ear.

‘That’s it, that’s it, come for
him...’

My body
spasmed
as a series of orgasms, or was it one long orgasm, rippled through me and I
involuntarily gasped out, almost shouting with the relief it brought. As a
final treat for Paul I hurriedly climbed off him and got him to stand over me
as I kneeled in front of him and took his cock in my mouth, working it urgently
with my tongue, while Claire caressed his balls and thighs. His eyes were fixed
on mine, and gleamed with desire. 

‘Are you going to come all over her
tits Paul? I can’t wait to see it...’ whispered Claire.

She didn’t have to wait long.
Claire got back round behind me and squeezed my breasts up and together while I
gave a final flourish to Paul’s cock, pulling it out of my mouth and
wanking
it hard just as he began to come; a rain of small
droplets first, spread out all over my breasts and mouth, and then a long,
thick streak of hot white fluid shooting across both my nipples.

Claire gasped with delight and
worked the glistening liquid into my chest with slow, circular movements of her
fingers until they became two slippery, shining peaks.

We collapsed on the bed, Paul and I
entwined and utterly satisfied while Claire and Marco, with seemingly endless
energy, looked on with wicked smiles.

‘Will there be any problem with my
membership, Lady Underwood?’ I asked teasingly.

Claire giggled. ‘Sara, darling,
with that performance I think you’ve just earned yourself a free lifetime
subscription’.

 

 

Four

All that week at work I was
distracted by the thought of ‘Lady Underwood’s’ club, and eagerly awaited the
next session on Friday evening. The week’s meetings went by in a blur, and more
than once I found myself daydreaming about Paul, imagining us coiled in
different positions, sometimes with Claire joining us, and sometimes, more
romantically, just the two of us. Once I got so turned on I had to touch myself
in the loo, coming almost instantly and emerging guiltily from the cubicle, a
silly smile plastered over my face from the natural high rushing through my
body, replacing the default mood of stress I seem to have at work.

Unlike my first visit, this time I
would be prepared for the evening’s events at the Club, so I visited the gym
every day to tone up, and called in at Rigby and
Peller
for some sexy black, lacy underwear with stockings and suspenders. I had a
Brazilian wax at the beautician’s and a hideously expensive hairdo at Richard
Ward’s after begging and pleading the girl to bring my usual appointment
forward.

Finally 5pm on Friday afternoon
rolled around, and to some concerned glances from colleagues, (people in our
small office rarely finish before 8) I jumped in a taxi, texting Claire on the
way to make sure everything was still going ahead. With delicious anticipation
I wondered what might happen tonight and whether Paul would be there.

After a shower, hurried meal and
checking of hair and makeup, I squeezed myself into a tight black dress with
minimal jewellery and dashed into another waiting taxi, noticing an admiring
glance in the mirror from the driver as he asked ‘where to?’

I was soon
back
at the black front door in Belgravia, with the scent of lime trees wafting from
the square
gardens
on the warm summer breeze. This
time it was with a sense of tingling expectation about what the evening would
bring. I rang the bell.

This time it was Claire who
answered. Her face lit up when she saw me.

‘Sara! I thought we might see you
again. Can’t keep a good girl down, eh? Come in, come in!’

I stepped into the hall and noticed
Claire was looking
more sexy
than ever in a slim
fitting, straight cut dress which showed off her boyish figure well. She led me
through to the drawing room which, once again, was filled with a range of well
groomed women and handsome men.

Pressing a glass of champagne into
my hand, she led me over to a large, athletically built man by the window. He
had cropped fair hair and piercing blue eyes.

‘Sara, let me introduce you to
David. He’s from the States.’

‘A pleasure to meet you, Sara’ he
said in a soft, southern accent. ‘Would you care to go upstairs with me?’

‘Fast worker, aren’t you?’ I said
coyly, twisting my hair like a schoolgirl. He was attractive, I thought, and
yes, I would like to go upstairs with him, as he euphemistically put it...but I
couldn’t help wondering where Paul was.

Then I spotted him.
Looking more gorgeous than ever, standing by the fireplace wearing
an open white shirt and dark trousers.
He was talking to that Russian
girl, what was her name – Olga. He spotted me and I felt a thrill of excitement
as he smiled and came over. I was less excited to see Olga follow him.

Introductions were performed, and
Olga coolly shook my hand. She was tall and immaculately beautiful, like
something created by a computer programme. Her job was something vague in
finance, but I suspected she was just a spoilt daddy’s girl with a private
income. She flicked her long blonde hair and looked at me with cold appraisal
as Paul and I embraced.

‘Paul and I were just going
upstairs’ she said, with a strong Russian accent.

Wishing she would just disappear, I
decided to risk it and said ‘Wonderful. Why don’t David and I join you?’

I could see jealousy in Olga’s eyes
mixed with the arousal of a competitive streak. Two can play at that game,
darling, I thought.

‘Why not.
Bring your friend, I like him. We have good time, I think.’

A few minutes later Olga and I were
relaxing on the large four poster bed watching David and Paul strip to their
underwear, drinking champagne and becoming increasingly aroused by each other
and the sound of enthusiastic lovemaking coming from the next bedroom.

Olga stood up and went closer to
the two men, facing me on the bed. ‘Boys, I think is time you did some work for
me, yes? Unzip this dress, please’.

Paul obliged, letting the dark,
silky material fall off her body like water, revealing long, tanned limbs and
bra and knickers in a glossy dark purple. She kept on her
tarty
looking
stilletoes
with platform soles, making her
look even taller. Paul unclasped her bra to reveal her small but pert, well
formed
breasts,
the pink nipples hardening as Paul
caressed and kissed her neck.

David ran his hands along her
thighs, teasing his fingers under the edge of her knickers. Gently he eased these
off and my eyes travelled the length of her legs upwards to her slim thighs,
between which a small, blonde triangle topped a line of pink coral. She licked
her finger and began to touch herself, all the while appraising me with that
cold look.

‘I think Sara you are a bit shy?
Yes? Don’t worry, is no problem, all of us friends. I help you’.

Although my jealous streak was
aroused, actually, I was a bit shy. I felt intimidated by Olga, and a little
worried at the huge bulk of David, especially his enormous cock, I guessed
eight or nine inches long, which Olga was now kneeling down to stroke and lick
while looking at me through heavy lidded eyes.

She then turned to Paul on her
right and began to suck his manhood more enthusiastically, looking up at him while
he moaned with pleasure. Right, I thought. Two can play at that game. I slipped
out of my dress keeping my high heels on like her and striding forwards to the
bed. I saw Paul and David’s eyes bulge as they caught sight of my breasts,
several sizes larger than Olga’s, and now freed from their straining bra.

‘Why don’t I take care of Paul
while you look after David?’ I said.

I saw a flash of fire in Olga’s
eyes. With a tone of challenge, she drawled ‘‘I have better idea. Why don’t you
suck Paul’s cock, while David
fuck
you? Is good, I
think, no?

I was almost bursting with desire
now. Why not, I thought. I’d never been with two men before...and I wanted to
try it. Looking up at Paul, who now had a broad grin on his face, I started to
lick and suck the shaft of his cock. In the large wardrobe mirror in front of
us I could see Olga behind me, leaning against the bed and lazily stroking her
clit, looking appreciatively at David while he straddled me.

He gently pressed his huge girth
into me as I pushed my bottom upwards towards him. I gasped with pleasure as I
felt the thick shaft penetrate me and begin to move in long, slow strokes. I
responded by sucking Paul harder and massaging his balls with my free hand. My
eyes met with Olga’s in the mirror and I saw her expression soften a little.

‘Is look really
good...amazing...Sara, you have very beautiful body. I like’.

She was right – the feeling of
being with two men was amazing and better than I could ever have imagined. I
felt all inhibitions disappear, deliciously anticipating what would happen
next.

After a while I sensed we needed a
change. Before I could say anything, Olga had come over to us and was running
her hand lazily up and down my back, kissing and caressing David’s chest and
thighs while looking intently at us and whispering ‘It looks so good...fuck her
more, I like it...’

He started to breath heavily and
began pounding me. Olga smiled and stroked and rubbed David’s balls and with
her other hand rubbed my clit. I sensed Paul was close to coming as well so I
pulled him out of my mouth.  

The pleasure was mounting to an
almost unbearable level. Before I knew it, a warm glow had spread outwards from
my thighs and an orgasm rippled over me.

‘Ok, enough for you.
Now my turn.
I want come very much’ said Olga.

I lay exhausted on the floor and
watched with a tinge of jealousy as Paul lay on the bed and Olga slowly eased
herself, reverse cow-girl style, onto him. She immediately began bouncing up
and down, jerking David’s cock against her face and mouth as he stood next to
her.

Within seconds she gave a loud
shout, her face contorted in a massive orgasm. David groaned and with a spasm,
shot a thick stream of cum onto her face. She clambered up and, wiping her
mouth, looked at me and said

‘Wait, Paul has not come yet. We
help him, yes?’

I didn’t need any further
encouragement as both of us stroked and licked Paul’s cock as he lay back on
the pillows, David watching us with an exhausted grin. Olga’s face was close to
mine and I felt a thrill of excitement as her tongue occasionally darted into
my mouth as we ran our tongues up his delicious shaft.

I’d enjoyed our little rivalry, but
I wanted it to be me to give Paul the final flourish, so I eased Olga aside and
greedily deep throated him until his hot fluid exploded in my mouth.

We enjoyed the luscious afterglow
on the bed, drinking champagne and caressing each other, until it was time to
leave the club. Although I’d had a great time, there was still a nagging sense
of dissatisfaction. The sex had been great, but what I really wanted was Paul
to myself.

 

 

Five

The next week, work seemed to just
drag by as I waited for Friday night to come around and the next session at the
club. Was I becoming some sort of sex addict? I certainly enjoyed the rush of
excitement I felt whenever I thought about what might happen on my next visit.
Although it was really Paul that I thought about.

The other men had been hot, there
was no doubt about that, and although it wasn’t really my scene I had felt a
thrill of pleasure at seeing other women having sex and being touched by them;
but that was all just play, really; a warm up for the main act which was 
Paul. I’d tried as subtly as I could to get his number, but he didn’t seem to
take the hint and I wasn’t going to beg for it. Checks on Google and
Facebook
produced nothing, so I decided to ask Claire
straight out. During lunch I phoned her but I got a frosty response.

‘Darling, you know I’d love to help
but I can’t give out details of my boys.
Strictly
confidential.
It’s for everybody’s protection’.

‘Yes of course, I understand,
Claire’ I replied.

Did I detect a note of jealous
protection in her voice? It was hard to tell, but I got the impression she
didn’t want me to get closer to Paul. Perhaps she was somehow worried he’d give
up on his club ‘work’ if he found the right girl? He’d damned well better, I
thought to myself. Perhaps Claire even wanted him for herself? Her voice
brought me back to reality.

‘I knew you would understand. I
hope we’ll be seeing you on Friday. I do know Paul is looking forward to it –
he mentioned you specifically. See you then, darling!’

BOOK: The Belgravia Club
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