The Not So Invisible Woman (11 page)

'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.'

Marine Man opened the door a crack. A guy in a towel was standing there, holding three glasses of something. He was cute, a white guy about five-foot-ten, in his late thirties, with a toned body that looked to be completely shaved.

I was thirsty. 'What the hell,' I said.

Marine Man opened the door all the way and tilted his head to the side. 'Come in.'

'Take your towel off, mate,' said Relish Man. 'She doesn't want to see your towel. She wants to see your cock.'

That was true.

He removed his towel. I saw that his cock was already hard. It was average, about six inches long. The new guy helpfully held a glass to my lips. Lemonade. Lovely. Most of it slid down my chest, and I laughed.

'Fuck me up the ass,' I said.

'What a woman!' he replied. 'Triple penetration for lunch.'

What, is this your first time? I wondered.

I heard the foil rip open as he removed a condom from my bag. Relish Man was fucking my vagina from below, Marine Man was in my mouth. I felt a third cock probe my asshole. 'Go slow,' I warned the newbie. 'I'll lead.'

He pushed in hard and it hurt.

'Stop!' I shouted. He obviously hadn't had much experience with anal, not knowing he had to start off slowly. He pulled out quickly.

'Wait!' I said. Definitely inexperienced. You don't push in fast, you don't pull out fast either.

'I'll tell you when to push again,' I said. 'And put on some more lube.'

I felt my sphincter relax after a minute. 'Now,' I said. 'Slowly.'

But it was too late. Maybe it was the small play mat that made it tough for four players. Maybe Lemonade Man didn't really want anal. Maybe he just didn't know how to
do
anal. Maybe he didn't want to hurt me again. Maybe he didn't like being so close to another guy's cock. The two guys' cocks were probably rubbing against each other. Not every man's cup of tea. Some guys just don't like coming in contact with another guy's equipment, and that makes double penetration complicated in group settings. It takes two experienced guys to really get it right. Hence, the appeal of experienced swingers like Greg.

I couldn't tell if it was me who'd wrecked the moment, or twinges of homophobia in Lemonade Man's head that fucked it up, but whatever it was, it didn't work. When Lemonade Man tried sticking it in once more, his cock went soft. I waved him over, and he came round to my side, cock in hand. I reached towards it and began stroking.

The room was hot. Everyone was dripping with sweat. I slid from one cock to another, and the energy built between the four of us. The men took turns in different positions. Relish Man reclaimed his original place and pounded me from behind. Marine Man gripped my head as he pushed deeper and deeper down my throat. He took turns with Lemonade Man, whose cock I graciously bobbed up and down on, bringing him back to life.

'She's so fucking sexy,' I heard one guy say.

'Beautiful body,' said another.

I was desperate for something to drink and desperate to come, but the two agendas were in conflict. Despite all the physical activity and the stimulation and the energy and the pheromones running through my body, I could not orgasm. I thought back to the sex I used to have with Karume, how we'd pace ourselves, build up to the threshold of an orgasm, then slow down before quickening the pace and beginning all over again. In the group room, it was all about excitement, about the now. There was no slow, no gentle. The focus was on hard cocks, willing pussy and deep-throat blowjobs.

I wanted to take a break. I asked for something to drink. Relish Man left the room to take care of it. Lemonade Man made his exit too. Now, it was just me and my marine.

'Thank God,' I said. 'That was getting a bit much.'

He laughed.

'Can I grind on your cock?' I asked.

He smirked.

'That's what I'd really, really like to do,' I added for his benefit. Now that the others were gone, I could concentrate and come and be done with it.

'Sure,' he said. 'Use me, treat me like a dildo. Do whatever you want with me.' There was not a hint of irony in his voice.

He got down on the mat and lay on his back. I straddled his hips. I pulled him deep into me and felt my clitoris make contact with his pubic bone. He was hard inside my pussy. We were still soaking with sweat.

I closed my eyes, concentrated on the sensations, and continued grinding, grinding. I relaxed into his hips as my clit rubbed against him. It felt nice being with a man after six weeks without one, felt nice going one on one after the frenzied group activity of the past hour.

The door opened again and Relish Man walked back in with more lemonade. I gulped down the glass gratefully. My body began shaking, perhaps from the sudden sugar jolt after all the energy I'd expended, perhaps from the mixture of sexual excitement and adrenalin and relief at being done with abstinence, forever. I felt like the pocket vibrator in my bag, switched to low, as the jolt subsided to a gentle hum inside me.

I looked up, and there was that black cock again, hard and thick. I was close to coming and, as my mouth took hold of it, I suddenly found it difficult to concentrate on sucking while my orgasm was building. I pulled away and watched Relish Man wank. Then I came. Gripping Marine Man's shoulders, I pulled myself hard into him, as the waves of contractions shot through me. My juices dripped all the way down his cock.

I climbed off and, knowing Marine Man still hadn't come, started to jerk him off. Karume always said my handjobs were impossible to resist, and I wondered if perhaps he was right because, two minutes later, I felt Marine Man get harder, and then, putting my mouth round his cock, felt the come shoot out of the end.

'Oh!' he screamed. 'Goooooood!'

I looked over at the big black cock. 'I don't want to come just now,' said Relish Man. 'I'll save it for something hotter.'

We all laughed.

A few minutes later, I was back in the Jacuzzi, chilling with Lemonade Man and a guy named Leo, whom I'd fucked once before. Or rather, tried to, till we both realised that, with his two-inch cock, oral was better. And thankfully he knew that without having to be told.

'Was that you making all that noise back there?' Leo asked, snickering.

'Yes, afraid so,' I admitted. 'Sorry, didn't realise we were so loud.'

He reached over and touched my shoulder. 'You don't fancy a massage, do you?'

'No, honey, I'm outta here in ten minutes,' I said, remembering the last 'massage' he'd given me, a few months earlier. I didn't fancy going back there in a hurry. The oral was great but the cock was not. 'Another time, perhaps? Really, I have to get home.'

I'd had my end-of-celibacy celebration, got what I'd wanted, and now I had just a few minutes to take a quick shower and change before picking up my kids from school. Within half an hour I was standing outside the school gates waiting for my children, a smile on my face.

I wondered why anyone would champion celibacy. Pat may have thought I was a sex addict, but after my afternoon threesome, I came to the conclusion she was just jealous.

I pulled my mobile out of my bag and scrolled through the numbers for someone who lived nearby. John! I tapped a message. 'You free for the next hour or so?'

An answer came back a minute later. 'Yeah. Why.'

'Flight delayed. At Heathrow Terminal 3. Time to kill. Wanna meet?' A blizzard had blanketed New York and all flights in were cancelled. They rebooked me on a later flight, but it wasn't leaving for six hours.

'Got 1+ hr. Be in front 20 mins. Can't wait to taste yr pussy.'

Twenty minutes later, John pulled up in front of Terminal 3 in a shiny new black Range Rover. Aside from the extra stone he'd acquired around his middle, he looked about the same as when I'd last seen him, two years earlier – still bald, blue eyed and handsome. I assumed his cock was still seven inches and fully functional.

'What happened to the taxi?' I asked.

'Oh, I'm semi-retired now,' he said whilst picking up my suitcases and flinging them into the boot, just as his former cohorts were doing for others at the taxis lined up beside us. 'I started investing in property, and now I've got a little portfolio.'

No small accomplishment in the brutal British market, where just getting in on a refurb is a huge hurdle. I was impressed.

'It keeps me busy,' he continued, 'and it's a bloody helluva lot easier than picking up drunks at night and ferrying them home.'

I thought of the times cabbies had driven me home in that same condition. But John wasn't one of them. We'd just used his cab for sex.

Travelodge?' he asked.

'Perfect.'

I leaned across the seat to kiss him on the mouth. Nice. So were the leather seats, which were wide and comfortable, quite a trade up from the days when I used to crouch down in the back of his TX II, sucking his cock.

'Nice to see you again, John. It's been too long.'

'Yes, it has.' He smiled as he drove. 'I'm really looking forward to this.'

So was I. He was as horny as hell, and loved having me grind on top – my favourite position. He could stay hard for hours, provided I sucked him between orgasms – that was his favourite thing. He loved licking pussy. What was there not to like?

Ten minutes later John pulled the Rover into the Heathrow Travelodge car park. The motel was nondescript but convenient, used mainly by business people who needed something near the airport for an overnighter before catching an early flight out.

We walked in through the front door and up to reception. The cute blonde girl behind the desk, perky and efficient, asked for a credit-card deposit and a photo ID, and had us fill out a form with our names and addresses. The process took ten long minutes, biting into our time. No wonder we used to fuck in the taxi, I thought, tapping my foot in irritation.

I pondered the ridiculousness of all the bureaucracy, given we'd be in and out of the Travelodge within an hour. The company sure wasn't exploiting its profit potential. It could have jacked its margins by creating a FasTrack system for illicit encounters like ours. We just wanted a quickie, a literal fuck 'n' fly. Thinking like a madam, I was calculating the cash flow of a room being turned over for people like us 24 times in a day. I was beginning to wonder if I'd gone into the wrong business.

'How many rooms have you got in this hotel?' I asked the receptionist.

'One hundred and sixty-five. And you're in Room one hundred and seventeen,' she said, handing John the key and gesturing. 'The lift's over on your left.'

We walked to the lift and kissed as soon as the doors closed. I felt John get hard as our lips met.

'Mmm,' I said, touching his erection through his jeans. 'That didn't take long.'

We continued kissing as we exited into the first-floor hallway and all the way to Room 117. We entered the room, kissed while removing our clothes, and got naked on the double bed. I lay on my side and took John's hard cock in my mouth.

'That feels great, Suzanne,' he said. I felt him go from hard to harder.

I sat up and swung my legs over his, until my pussy was directly above his cock.

'I'm sorry,' I said, all come-hither. 'But I really must fuck you right now. I'm soooo sorry.'

'Go right ahead,' he said, smirking. 'I want to feel you grind on this cock.'

He gripped his cock and held it against my pussy. I moved my pelvis up and down, teasing the head of his penis.

'Does that feel good?' I asked.

'Fan. Tastic.'

'Good.' I ground down on him and pushed against his pelvic bone. 'Because I'm going ... to come ... soon.'

I shut my eyes and carried on, grinding down on his cock, feeling him hard inside me. Even though I hadn't seen John in a long time, fucking him felt familiar and comfortable.

That's the way it's always been with me and my lovers. Very few men I've had sex with seem to go away forever, unless they've gotten married or fallen into a serious relationship. The rest, the majority, reappear at some point, taking up with me again after weeks, months, even years, when in the mood for a reunion or after stumbling upon my number while going through their little black book. Then, reunited, our comfort level is no different than it would have been had we seen each other the day before. Sexually, the action tends to remain fresh and fun. And I like it that way. I built my stable of studs around one goal: avoiding the monotonous and the stale.

I bounced on John's seven inches for ten minutes or so, then came, groaning loudly. John came with me. He reached for me, pulled me close, and together we laughed at the movie moment. Simultaneous orgasms may be a Hollywood cliché, but there's something magical about them nonetheless. Looking into a partner's eyes, teamed together as the tension mounts, the double head rush adds an extra degree of intimacy to a sex act.

'Not bad, John!' I said. 'I haven't done
that
in a while.'

'Or me,' he said.

'You mean I haven't done
you
in a while, or you haven't had a simultaneous orgasm with someone in a while? Which is it, boy?'

'Both ... girl.' He smiled.

He held me in his arms till his cock softened. Then I rolled onto my side. It felt nice to cuddle, like being with an old friend.

'So, what you been up to?' he asked. 'Still fucking around?'

'Same old, same old,' I said. 'Yeah, still fucking around. And writing about it!' I told him about my book and its being my reason for being at Heathrow in the first place.

'Sorry, I forgot you'd been writing,' he said. 'I never picked it up. Should I have done?'

'Well, you're being immortalised. If only in one paragraph.' I described his appearance in the book: the taxi driver who shot his load so often and so heavily, I had to change condoms every few rounds, when one became too full of spunk. 'I should have called you the heavy repeater.'

He laughed. 'I guess I'm gonna have to go buy it now, huh,' he said, raising an eyebrow, 'as I've got such a great write-up. Thanks.'

'You're welcome. Now go capitalise on the PR and get some pussy,' I said. 'So, what about you, what's going on?'

'I've had a couple of girlfriends,' he said. 'Nothing too serious. The thing is, I really want a kid, but I really enjoy the whole swinging thing, too.'

'Can't blame ya,' I said. 'Swinging's great. Kids are great, too. A lot more work, though. And easier with a partner.' That, I knew firsthand. Even when I was married to a man who spent more time at the office than at home, at some point along the way, there was an extra set of hands if needed.

'I'm not sure I could ever give this up,' John continued. 'But there's a part of me that really wants a relationship. Don't you ever want to settle down, Suzanne?'

I shrugged my shoulders. John wasn't the first person to ask me if I wanted to settle down. 'Don't you want a boyfriend?' was a question I had heard almost every day for the past five years, ever since getting divorced. I'd learned to live with it. Most people assumed that, because I didn't have a boyfriend, I wasn't complete. To me, it wasn't a matter of wanting, or not wanting, a boyfriend. I'd simply stopped looking, stopped thinking about it. If it happened, it happened.

This is an alien approach to life, apparently. Women's magazines are always giving top-ten tips for finding or keeping a man; girlfriends are always calling up, worrying about losing one guy or strategising to score another; romance novels always end with an HEA, the happy-ever-after ending, which really just means the girl gets the guy; Hollywood makes a fortune off perpetuating a rosy view of romance that doesn't exist in real life. We're bombarded with shit telling us that monogamy is the be-all and end-all and that settling down is the ultimate goal.

But I'd already ticked the boxes on most girls' life plan – the children, the job, the car, the home – and was getting good, steady sex on top of it all. Now, I was in a position to concentrate on pleasure. While most women don't even get laid, or settle for a token fifteen minutes once a week, I'd found a group of people who didn't think that was good enough. Getting good sex was one of their top priorities and, like me, they took pleasure in giving pleasure. If that meant not conforming to society's pro-monogamy propaganda, fuck 'em.

I understood the need for companionship. And I understood the desperation of single women like Pat, who knew that, until they got a partner, besides not getting laid regularly, they'd probably not have enough money to raise children on their own or buy their dream house. So they paced the floor every night, frustrated and panicked and alone, watching the clock. For a while after my marriage, I subscribed to the idea that a new relationship would make me happy, but a few years on, I wised up and realised I was happier on my own.

'I'm not bothered being alone,' I said. 'What's the point? Maybe this'll sound a bit wacky, but my psychic –'

John raised an eyebrow.

I met his gaze. 'Yes, my psychic – she told me there's someone out there for me, and I believe her.' I explained that even if Morene had not made that prediction, I'd have come to that realisation on my own. I'd always believed that one day someone would come into my life, someone who got me.

'That means, no secrets,' I said. 'I know the swinging thing freaks the average guy out, but I'm not looking for average.' I stared down at his cock. 'Obviously.'

We laughed.

'Face it,' I continued. 'It's not easy, especially with the kid thing in the background. But that doesn't mean you can't find something special and lasting. I've met plenty of people who've made it work.' I described some people I knew who were in committed relationships but were far from monogamous. 'But until it happens for me, I'm not going to waste my time worrying about finding someone who understands it.'

This was getting serious. Fun boys don't want serious. I changed the subject. 'So John, want me to suck you off one last time before we drive back to the airport?'

'Why not?' he said, grabbing his cock and shaking it like a toy.

I bent over him and once more took him between my lips. Moving my mouth quickly up and down the shaft, I sucked it back to life. He came within minutes. I sucked the come into my mouth. Then I cleaned off the head of his penis with my lips.

'That was nice, but I'm exhausted now,' he said. 'I wish we both didn't have to go.'

'Me, too,' I said, standing up. 'But we do have to go. Shall we?'

I grabbed my clothes off the floor, dressed, then suddenly realising we hadn't bothered to get under the covers, I adjusted the bedspread. One less room for the housekeeper to clean. It gave me a little thrill to think about what we'd done without leaving any evidence. It was like trespassing or having a secret.

John pulled up in front of the departures area, kissed me on the lips, then got out of the Rover and put my suitcases on the pavement, ever the full-service taxi driver.

'Thanks. Don't be a stranger, John.'

'I won't,' he promised. 'Let's get together when you're back.'

I walked through the revolving door and into Terminal 3 feeling both light-headed and damp between my legs, a sensation that only happens when I've been properly fucked. I was already flying.