4 comments/  115841 views/  17 favorites

Country Club Ch. 01

By: JackieJab



**************

I know this is short. It's really more of an intro to a longer story I have in mind. I figured maybe posting it now would give me incentive to hurry up and finish it. Comments and ratings greatly appreciated. 

**************

I was idly flipping through an old copy of Maxim, not really registering the words on the page. I had been kind of depressed for a while. Even though I really liked working at Bramble Ridge Country Club, after working there through college I had really been looking forward to getting a "real job". But the economy tanked and no one was interested in hiring a brand new graduate from a crappy state university. 

Things were alright really. Working for the country club would never make me rich but the money was okay. Unlike a lot of my friends I had a job. And while in college I had a tuition scholarship so all I'd had to pay for was books, food and rent, which meant I didn't have to worry about student loans. So, all in all, things were okay. Still, I was in a deep funk over being a college grad working the desk at a spa in a country club. Boo-hoo, poor me, right? 

My one person pity party was interrupted when Larry speed walked past the counter, muttering, "Dude. Heads up. Wicked witch."

"Shit!"

I stuffed the magazine into a drawer and gritted my teeth in anticipation, or dread. "The wicked witch" is Amy Holcomb. She used to work here as a massage therapist before one of the members snapped her up as a trophy wife during my sophomore year. She was beautiful, but that didn't make up for the fact that she had always been my bitchiest coworker, and was now hell on wheels as a member. Feeling as if I was awaiting my doom, I reflected on how strange it was that the old money New England aristocracy that made up the bulk of the membership were, by and large, pretty decent to the staff, and that the worst people to deal with were the trailer trash trophy wives like Amy. 

I was startled out of my reverie by five foot three of curvy, blonde evil clearing her throat and tapping her overpriced manicure on the green marble counter top in front of me. I managed a polite smile that didn't touch my eyes.

"Hello Amy, what can I do for you today?" I found myself using every ounce of willpower at my disposal to look away from her perfect, bra-less, handful sized breasts, topped by erect nipples that were clearly visible poking through her pink golf shirt. 

"Well first, David," she sneered my name making it sound like an insult, "it's Mrs. Holcomb to you. Second, you can get your eyes off my tits, ya fuckin' perv. And third, you can get put some extra towels into number three. And if I catch you in there again, I'll report you for harassing me and get your ass fired. I'll be right back, so get to it." With that she stormed off. Larry stuck his head out from behind the divider between the front desk and the staff area and hummed a snippet of the Wicked Witch's theme from the Wizard of Oz. I laughed in spite of my foul mood, grabbed a stack of towels and headed for shower three. 

The spa had a series of private shower rooms which put most studio apartments to shame. Each of them had a shower big enough for an orgy (well, a small orgy anyway), a Jacuzzi tub, a massage table, an assortment of exotic plumbing fixtures. Everything was made of marble, gold or crystal. As I'd overheard one of the members put it once, the club's showers were "as simple and understated as a pimp on Easter." 

A few weeks ago I had been cleaning up number three when Amy, fresh from the sauna and wearing nothing but a towel and a sour expression, walked in on me. I had hung a sign on the door handle that said the room was being cleaned, and she could have gone into any of the others. Instead she walked into mine, kicked me out, and then raised a stink with my boss that I was "lurking around the showers trying to get an eyeful". My boss accepted my explanation of what had really happened. But a complaint from a member goes in your file no matter what. I knew that he might not be able to save my job if she made another complaint. She knew the same thing, and used that fact to keep me jumping. 

I set out the towels on the cushioned changing bench and turned to leave when I heard Amy's fake laughter outside the door. Shit. I don't know why I didn't just leave through the door. On reflection later I realized that she never would have reported me for "lurking" again. She's the type who would prefer to hold it over my head and make me dance. But in the moment I panicked, and ducked into a closet full of plush bathrobes. 

I closed the door on the closet just as Amy opened the door to the shower room. Fuck. I was a dead man. If she found me in the fucking closet there would be no way I could keep my job. Hell, there was probably no way I could stay out of jail. She stood in the doorway talking to someone in hushed tones. I couldn't make out anything she was saying but I recognized the voice of the person she was speaking to as male. Her husband never came to the club in the daytime during the week. Part of me wondered if she was fooling around. Most of me just hoped neither of them wanted a bathrobe. 

She entered the room alone, and I dismissed my suspicions, returning instead to praying she didn't open the closet. I could just barely make out her outline through the louvered slats on the closet door. She was stripping over by the changing bench, carefully folding her clothes and setting them on the bench. She walked over to the sink and started rubbing her naked body with one of the exotic unguents we set out for our wealthy clientele. I could smell the spicy lightly floral scent of the oil she was rubbing all over her naked body. Like I said in the closet I could just barely make out her outline. But just knowing she was naked, rubbing some exotic-flower scented oil into her tits and, judging from her current posture, her pussy, was making me hard.

Amy stopped rubbing herself (and tormenting me) at a light tapping on the door. She turned and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around her body, and opened the door. She looked up and down the hall outside, and ushered someone inside, whispering and giggling. "Ah, here it comes," I thought to myself. Well now at the very least if they caught me I could maybe protect myself by offering to protect their secret. I couldn't see the guy's face, but his silhouette made him look tall and well built. Her husband was short and starting to go round and saggy about the middle. He was also an incredibly wealthy fifty-three year old workaholic with no kids. I doubt he'd be thrilled to learn his expensive arm candy was stepping out on him. 

I leaned back against the wall, waiting for them to finish what they were here for, and hoping they didn't find me. I had a scare when Amy walked right toward the closet, but she went into the one next to mine and pulled out a folding massage table. After setting it up in the middle of the room she helped her friend strip and pushed him face-down onto the table. From what I could see she was giving him an incredible massage, rubbing him with her breasts and her pussy more than her hands. I found myself getting aroused again. I looked down and closed my eyes, pinching and rubbing the bridge of my nose. I was also getting a headache. I needed to get the fuck out of there. 

Eventually she jumped off, flipped him over onto his back and climbed right back on. She continued the massage which, hot as it was before, seemed to be heating up. I wished I could see but because of the angle of the slats in the door all I could see clearly was the floor about four feet in front of the closet. Squinting and standing on tip toe to try and see more than just a silhouette, accompanied by their chorus of masculine moans of pleasure and feminine oohs and aahs, I had a stroke of genius. Well, I mean, genius... I don't know, I thought it was a good idea. 

I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. It had a built in camera that could shoot video but I never used it. It was just a crappy free flip phone that came with my plan. Seems like all phones have cameras now. I flipped it open, went to the menu and made sure all the sounds were off. Then I held the phone up to the highest gap in the louvered door, angled it down, and activated the video recorder. After a few seconds I pulled it down and took a look. I was rewarded with a six second video of Amy Holcomb giving a spirited blowjob to Charlie, the club's golf pro. In-fucking-credible. The quality wasn't great but it looked like both their faces looked pretty clear to me. 

I put the phone back up and started recording again. I couldn't see the screen on the phone at the angle I had to hold it to shoot them but that didn't stop me from squinting through the closet door to try and see what was going on. I started to feel like the pervert she'd accused me of being. After a few more minutes of squinting at the shadow puppet make out session, I decided I could live with that and started rubbing myself through my uniform pants. I wasn't about to whip it out and rub one out on a bathrobe, but I'm only human. I just tried to adjust myself, relieve some of the tension. That's my story anyway, and I'm sticking to it. 

I checked the phone a few times to make sure I hadn't filled up the phone's memory and that it was still recording. Other than that I continued watching the show, and hoped for a way to escape. Amy and Charlie went through a series of positions that put some pornos to shame. Since I mostly worked the spa and the occasional catered affair at the club, I never had much occasion to work with Charlie. I had a vague impression of him as kind of a prick. But I'll say this for him, he had staying power. I don't know how long they were at it but it seemed like quite a while. Probably seemed like longer than it was since all I could think about was getting the hell out of there.

Eventually, with Amy riding away in reverse cowgirl (who said you couldn't learn anything from porn?), her moaning became more intense, until she arched back and opened her mouth in a silent scream, her whole body shaking. From my vantage point, squinting through the closet, it looked a bit like a seizure, to be honest. But it was still damned hot. Right after she came Charlie joined her, moaning her name over and over. Afterward he lay there panting with his hands on her hips and she sat on his crotch, rocking her pelvis every few seconds, rubbing his thighs and giggling. 

After catching her breath she climbed down and took his hand, pulling him down off the massage table. They walked hand in hand toward the back of the room, out of my line of sight. I closed my phone and listened, trying to figure out what was going on. I heard Amy speaking in subdued tones, couldn't make out what she was saying, and they were making noises, loud wet kisses I'm guessing. 

Then I heard the shower come on. The large shower stalls in the rooms were on the same wall as the closets so I figured this was my best chance to escape. As long as they were both in the shower and occupied with each other, they shouldn't be able to see me. I carefully, slowly slipped out of the closet, closing it behind me as slowly as I could. Then I shimmied along the wall to the door, and made good my escape. 

Out in the hall my heart was pounding. I couldn't believe I got out of there without getting caught. As I walked back to the front desk the silliness of the whole thing struck me and I couldn't help laughing out loud, the first real good laugh I'd had in a long time. 

Larry shot me a look as I walked back to the desk. "Where the fuck you been, Dave? You escape that bitch unscathed?"

I just grinned and tossed him my phone.

Several minutes later Larry was watching the video for the third time in a row.

"Holy shit, dude! What are you gonna do now, put it online? Give it to her husband? You hate that bitch, you should stick it to her good."

"Ah, I don't know, man. I'd love to get some payback but that just doesn't seem right."

"But showing it to me is fine, right? Fuck, hiding out in the closet and wanking off on her is cool. Yeah, I see where you're coming from," Larry sneered. 

"It... I never wanked, I... it wasn't like that. It's not like I planned this! You heard what she said to me. She put me in an impossible situation. She told me to stock up three, and threatened to report me to Tom if I was in there when she got back. She had, like, her hand ON the door. I just panicked and ducked in the robe closet."

Larry just smirked and watched the video again. 

"Well aren't you the lucky one."

Charlie came walking down the hall from the showers and nodded at us as he walked by, "Gents."

"Hey, Charlie," we replied in unison. I bit my lips together in an effort to keep a straight face and Larry snorted. Charlie just raised an eyebrow and continued walking out of the spa.

A few minutes later Amy came walking down the hall. Much as I didn't like her, I couldn't help but be mesmerized by the sexy sway of her hips as she strode down the marble hall as if she owned the place. She was dressed in a short red cocktail dress and strappy red heels that probably cost more than I made in a year. She was carrying a pink duffel bag where, presumably, she carried the golf clothes she'd been wearing when she came into the spa.

"Don't you two assholes have some work to do?" she cracked. 

"Dave's got something he wants you to see, Amy." Larry grinned and shoved the phone into my hands before he ducked behind the divider that shielded the employee area from the eyes of the club members. 

"Fucking asshole," I muttered under my breath through gritted teeth.

"Chickenshit!" he whispered back from his hiding place.

Amy stood in front of me at the counter, glaring. 

"What the fuck is going on?"

"Ah, nothing, you remember how Larry is from when you worked here, right?"

Maybe I subconsciously meant to piss her off. She hated when anyone mentioned that she used to work here. Her eyes lit up in anger and she snatched the phone out of my hand.

"Hey, wait, no!"

I thought she had looked pissed off a minute ago but that was nothing. Her face turned as red as the dress she was wearing as she watched the video playing on my phone.

"You... son... of a bitch!" She barely squeezed the words out before lunging at me over the counter. I jumped back just missed being clawed on the face by her long red nails. She bounced back off the counter and looked back at the phone.

"I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing David, but you are DONE here!" 

She bent my flip phone backwards across the hinge and snapped it in two, then shoved it into her duffel bag. 

"You can kiss this shitty job goodbye you fucking, lurking, perv! What were you gonna do, huh? Blackmail me? Show this to my husband? Well kiss that plan goodbye you fucking moron! You fucking fucked up by letting me get my hands on it. Thank your shit head friend for that! You are fucking done! You hear me? DONE!" 

She was shaking like a leaf in a strong wind as she stormed off. One of the older members poked his head out of one of the shower rooms and gave me a quizzical look. I made a confused expression and shrugged at him, gave him the "Who knows?" face. He shrugged back and ducked back into his room.

Larry came out from behind the divider and stood next to me as I watched Amy walk away. 

"Dude. Tell me you already sent that video to your email."

"Yup."

"Rethinking what I said about getting some payback?"

"Oh, yeah." 

Country Club Ch. 02



**************

This is the second of what are now two but will hopefully be many (or at least a couple) more chapters. I have a hard time deciding to which category my stories belong. A lot of the positive feedback I received on the first chapter was from people who seem to really like the Exhibitionist & Voyeur category, which I don't expect the rest of the series to fit into. 

I decided this chapter fit best in Nonconsent/Reluctance. A lot of people seem to lurk that category and tear apart every story they see. As I saw someone say in the comments on a Nonconsent/Reluctance story I liked which was getting torn down by people who seemed to think the entire category is immoral, "if you want to read fluffy bunny stories, don't read Nonconsent/Reluctance." 

Still, I don't want to scare anyone off. This chapter isn't exactly a graphic depiction of a brutal rape, or anything. The way the story seems to be going, I think future chapters might go into BDSM. I don't know yet. At any rate, here it is, let me know what you think. I try hard to use proper grammar and spelling but I can't make any guarantees. Comments and high ratings greatly appreciated. Thanks!

**************

After our shift ended I gave Larry a lift home then drove to my apartment. The first thing I did as soon as I got home was grab my notebook and jump online to make sure I'd received the video I sent from my phone. There it was in my inbox. As an afterthought I forwarded a copy to an old email address I rarely used anymore. Can't be too careful, right? If I lost the thing, I lost my job. 

After confirming I'd received it, I downloaded it and watched it again to make sure it came through okay. It was really something else. The quality was terrible and the camera angle was weird but that only made it hotter, made it seem more real somehow. Even though it was pretty bad the people in the video were clearly Amy and Charlie. If it came down to it and I just sent it to Amy's husband, as Larry had insisted the entire time we were in the car together, he would have no doubt that it was definitely his wife. 

I had no intention of sending it to Mr. Holcomb. In spite of everything Amy had done to fuck around with me, I didn't want to ruin her life. Even if I did, showing it to her husband would end up losing Charlie his job. I hardly knew the guy and I'd heard he was a dick but, what the hell right? I don't care who sleeps with who, and I have no desire to screw anybody over. Still, I needed to make sure Amy knew I had the video before she talked to my boss and got me fired. Before I'd left work I had taken down both Amy and her husband's emails from the club computer. I pulled the scrap of paper I'd written them down on out of my pocket and started writing an email to Amy.

I still hadn't decided what to do. I wanted to use the video as leverage to get Amy off my back. After weeks of dealing with her veiled threats to get me fired I also wanted to send some of those bad vibes back her way. I hadn't decided how to go about it yet so I just settled on forwarding her the video with a short note that read:

Amy, before you do anything rash, take a look at this video. I think you and I should talk about this before you talk to anybody else. If I don't hear back from you soon I'll just send it to your husband and see what he thinks. I'd tell you to call me but you broke my phone. I'll be in touch. Don't do anything stupid, or I'll make sure you regret it. --Dave

That seemed just vague enough to avoid committing myself to any particular course of action, and threatening enough to save my job. I read it a few times but couldn't think of a better way to word it so I just sent it and forgot about it. 

After taking care of that I took a shower and changed, then walked into town to The Well, a seedy little bar that was within walking distance from both Larry's and my place. It was Wednesday. since Larry and I both had Thursdays off, Wednesday was our Friday, and The Well was our regular hangout. 

When I got to the bar Larry was already there getting a head start on me. And by the time I sat next to him at the bar he'd already ordered me a beer and a shot of JD. I slung the shot back, chased it with a swig of beer and took the cigarette Larry proffered. I only ever smoked when I was really tying one on but I had the feeling it was going to be that kind of night. 

"So I been thinking," Larry said as he waved at the bartender and gestured at the pair of empty shot glasses in front of us then held up two fingers. "What you gotta decide is," Larry clearly had a decent head start on me as there was already a slight slur to his words, "if you'd rather use that vid to get Amy to give you cash," he drained half his beer and grinned at me, "or ass."

The bartender walked up and down behind the bar, taking care of people's orders. She paused in front of us and refilled our shot glasses. Larry nodded at her and slipped her a five. If he was already tipping he was already drunk.

"I don't know man," I finished my first beer and threw back the second of what would be many, many shots. Couldn't let Larry get too far ahead of me, right? "Blackmail's not my thing. I'd be happy just getting the bitch off my back."

"Oh, so now you're worried about right and wrong? High talk from a fuckin' peepin' Tom."

The bartender looked at me and raised her eyebrow.

"Pay his drunk ass no mind," I grinned at her. She shook her head and walked to the other end of the bar to get somebody a drink.

"Seriously man, I thought you said you wanted to put the bitch in her place. You gonna back out now and be all," he effected a falsetto voice, "Please Amy, just leave me alone?" In his normal voice he added, "Fuckin' pussy."

"Ah, fuck you, Larry. Guess you're right though. I just feel weird about it. I mean I want to put her in her place, scare her, you know. Get her to stop being such a bitch all the time. But..."

"Come on man, s'not like you been getting' laid. You an' wasserface..."

"Tonya."

"Yeah, Tonya, that bitch. You and her broke up forever ago. She ain't comin' back or nothin' and..."

"I don't want her to."

"Yeah, right, whatever."

The bartender dropped off another round of shots and beers.

"So lissen man," Larry was getting seriously drunk. I was right behind him. "So lissen... ah... you gotta..."

"Try and get ass or cash."

"Yeah man, or both, you know? Amy's such a bitch. You should be like... you should tell her, 'Lissen woman, gimme some a what you been givin' Charlie.' Y'know?"

"I guess."

I sipped my beer and thought it over. Amy was incredibly hot. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe I'm just not as nice a guy as I thought I was. Maybe I just hadn't gotten laid in so long I was doing my thinking with little Dave. But Larry was making more and more sense. I mean, it's not as if she's faithful to her husband, I thought to myself. Why not get some? 

"If she's gonna be getting it where she shouldn't, and on the regular, why shouldn't I too, right?"

"S'what I'm saying! Gonna go break the seal." Larry smacked me on the back and walked away toward the men's room. I reached over to the pack of smokes he left on the bar and lit one up. 

"You know those things will kill you."

I spun around on the barstool in surprise. Amy was standing behind me, glaring. 

"Shit! Hi, Amy, how ya doin?" I said, cheerfully drunk. Even drunk, even considering how much I disliked her, just seeing her made my heart stutter. 

Her golden blonde hair was styled so perfectly she looked like she'd just stepped out of a magazine. She wore black high heeled sandals and a matching black skirt that hugged the curves of her hips. Her loose sheer gray blouse did nothing to hide a tight black tank top that left her midriff bare. She was wearing a bra but I don't know why. Her breasts were a miracle of nature, always pointing up, much to the chagrin of gravity, and every other woman in the room. 

She was just over five feet tall, and petite. But she somehow managed to pull off an hourglass figure without looking like she had an ounce of extra fat on her. I'd always thought she was an incredible beauty. Unfortunately her striking green eyes lost some of the impact they would have had if she wasn't looking at me like something stuck to the sole of her expensive shoes. 

I grinned at her. She just shook her head and sat down next to me at the bar. I hadn't given a second thought to what I was wearing. I mean, I was just out for a beer (or ten) with a buddy. But now with her next to me I suddenly felt shabby in my old brown screenprinted t-shirt, faded jeans and sneakers I'd had since... well, since high school. They're comfortable, alright? It's not like they're the only ones I own. Anyway...

When the bartender came over Amy ordered a margarita and handed her a gold card. "I'm covering this asshole's tab."

"His friend too?"

"Shit, is Larry here? Yeah, his friend too." Then she looked at me. "If I gotta deal with that douchebag too I'm gonna need a smoke. Gimme one."

I slid Larry's pack of Camels over to her and held out my lit cigarette for her to light up with. 

"So how ya doin' Amy?" I asked again, "S'like we never hang out anymore, innit? Not that it was ever any fun when we did."

When she was still giving massages at the spa, Amy and I had been part of the same circle of friends and coworkers who all went out drinking together. Back then she and I had been notorious for not getting along. Amy just snorted at my dig and sipped her drink.

"What do you want from me, Dave? And what were you doing in there? Why would you do that to anybody? You're so FUCKING..." She forced herself to calm down and took another sip of her drink. 

I started to wonder what was keeping Larry and looked around for him. Amy nudged me and pointed to a booth where Larry had seated himself with two annoyed looking sorority girls from the nearby state college. He was facing away from us and too busy trying to make a move on them to have noticed Amy.

"Look Amy, we gotta talk. I know you hate Larry. You wanna get outta here?"

"He's better than you," she muttered but got up and walked toward the door. I chugged the rest of my beer and stumbled after her. 

I didn't see her when I got outside and looked around a couple times trying to locate her. Apparently I'd had more to drink than I thought because the simple act of looking back and forth gave me the spins. I did see her though. It's hard to miss an ass like that. She was walking down the sidewalk toward her car. I followed, doing my best imitation of a sober person accustomed to walking in a straight line. 

When I caught up with her she stood leaning up against a silver Mercedes convertible waiting for me. 

"This yer car?" She nodded. "Shit, Amy, married life's treating you well."

"Just get in," she growled, opening the driver's side door and sliding behind the wheel. 

"Where we going?"

"You still live in the same place?"

"Uh-huh."

"Mind if we talk there?"

"Nope."

She'd been by my apartment once or twice back when we worked together, when she was doing the driving when the work crew was hanging out, that sort of thing. So she knew how to get there. We drove in silence until she pulled up in front of my apartment and parked behind my beat up old diesel VW Jetta. The silence continued, each of us looking out the windscreen at a loss for words. We sat there like that for a while. She was fuming and I was concentrating on sobering up. 

"You wanna coffee?" I finally asked.

"No, but I'll take a beer." She got out of the car and started walking up the stairs to the second floor of the two-family-house that I rented. I was at the point in the evening when I started to move in slow-mo but I managed to get out of the car and follow her. As soon as I shut the door to her car the lights flashed and the door locked. Amy stood waiting on the landing while I fumbled with my keys. I finally figured out the lock which had somehow gotten incrementally more difficult since the last time I'd used it, opened the door and held it open for her. 

She walked through my dark apartment and I followed her, flipping on lights. When she got to the living room she flopped on the couch. 

"How about that beer?" she asked. 

"Sure," I said, and stumbled into the kitchen to get a couple beers. 

"Hope Amstel's okay, s'all I got," I slurred, handing her a beer and taking a sip of mine. 

"That's fine." She took a pull on the icy bottle of beer. "So let's talk. What's it gonna take for you to keep that video to yourself?"

I sat down on the coffee table facing her. She really looked so sad. I started to lose my nerve. I decided I wasn't going to try and coerce her into having sex with me or blackmail her for money. I just wanted her to stop giving me so much shit. And I wanted to explain what happened and let her know that I didn't plan to spy on her, that it just happened. I wanted her to know that the only reason I even ended up in the closet was because I couldn't afford to lose my job and she had threatened me with something that could get me fired and I panicked. And I wanted to know why she was always so fucking nasty to me. She was a bitch to everybody, always had been. But I really felt like she singled me out. 

But I was drunk and it was complicated and it all came out wrong. 

"S'all your fault y'know. 'Cause yer such a bitch t'me alla time. An, y'know, I could, I could make you do whatever I want. Shit if I was gonna, you'd have to do whatever I said. You better just start being nicer to me because if I want to all I gotta say is 'I wanna fuck you' and you gotta do it. So..."

"Oh my God, you're such a drunk asshole. I knew it was gonna come to this." She stood and took her blouse off and threw it in my face. "Come on asshole, let's just get this over with." She got up and walked out of the living room toward my bedroom, removing her tank top along the way. I sat there and watched her for a second. Even her fucking back was sexy, especially the way it curved in right above her ass. 

That was a sight that got me moving. I jumped up and followed her. "No, wait, that all came out wrong," I slurred as I walked down the short hall toward my room. "Hey, come on, wait a sec..."

"Whatever!" she called from the bedroom. "Just get in here and do me you fucking pig!"

Well, since she asked so nice... I walked into the bedroom to try and explain myself but she was already naked. As soon as she saw me in the doorway she pulled me in, pushed me down on the bed and started opening my pants. Well, that was the end of my resistance. Not that I wasn't filled with desire practically every time I saw her. Honestly though, I had no intention of blackmailing her into fucking me. But shit, I was drunk and horny, and a hot willing woman was pulling my dick out of my shorts and sucking it into her mouth. I wasn't exactly about to go running around in circles waving my hands in the air screaming "Rape!"

I just leaned my head back and looked at the ceiling, trying to sober up enough to really enjoy myself. I'd been lusting after Amy since I first met her. Now that I finally got her I was drunk, she was married, and only doing me because I made her. But at the moment none of that mattered, because what she was doing felt incredible. I lifted myself up on my elbows so I could watch. I kicked off my sneakers and pulled off my shirt. She stopped sucking me off just long enough to pull off my jeans and underwear.

Amy knelt at the foot of my bed between my knees. Her beautiful lips were wrapped around my cock and was bobbing her head up and down. I couldn't restrain a low moan as I watched her go at it. She worked her tongue over the head then tickled the opening at the tip of my cock. My dick is only average, six inches long, around four inches around. 

Hey, so I'm no John Holmes, I never got any complaints, alright? 

Anyway I'm not huge and she didn't seem to have any trouble taking me all the way into her mouth. After a few minutes I surprised her (and myself) by stopping her. I put my hand on her cheek and lifted her up off my cock. She leaned back on her heels and looked at me quizzically. I sat up and lifted her by the shoulders, then laid back, dragging her onto the bed with me. 

"Come on, I wanna fuck you," I said, and started caressing her back and kissing her. 

To my surprise she wrapped her arms around my head and kissed me back enthusiastically. I rubbed her lower back with one hand and started caressing her breast with the other. Her breasts were so perfect. They fit exactly into my hand as if made for it. They were so soft and yet so firm. She had pretty long nipples but she had the smallest areolas I'd ever seen, maybe the size of a nickel? It was hard to tell because her nipples were hard as hell and her pretty pink areolas had tightened up around them. I squeezed her breast and leaned down to take her nipple into my mouth. I continued squeezing and sucking on her nipple and started squeezing her ass with my other hand. 

Amy moaned and started rubbing her wet gash up and down the length of my cock. We rolled around on the bed fondling each other and kissing. When I moved my mouth to her other breast she moaned again. 

"Bite me," she demanded in a breathy moan.

"What?"

She pulled my t-shirt over my head while rubbing her pussy on my cock, and said, "Bite it, bite my tits," then reached down between my legs and grabbed my cock, positioning it at the entrance to her vagina. As I opened my mouth wide and bit her gently around her nipple, she thrust her hips up, impaling herself on my cock. We moaned in unison and started rocking our hips together in the steady practiced way of a couple who'd been together long enough to know exactly how each other liked it. It was the first, and probably last, time we'd ever had sex. But it felt so perfect, so familiar, and right. It was spontaneous and incredible and better than I could have imagined. 

"Bite me again! Come on you fucker, fucking bite it!"

I leaned over and nipped at her nipple again. 

"Harder!" she demanded.

I lifted myself up on my arms and started pounding into her faster and with more intensity. 

"Oh, God, no," she moaned, "bite me harder!" She pushed one of my arms away and as I fell toward her she rolled until she was on top, somehow managing to do this without dislodging my rigid thrusting cock from her tight wet pussy. She took control and started fucking herself against my cock, then leaned forward and bit me on the nipple. It was sudden, unexpected, and incredibly painful. I closed my eyes and saw red and yellow stars. I may have actually blacked out for a second. I looked up at her, grabbed her by the hips to help me slam into her, then slapped her on the ass as hard as I could. 

"Oh, God! Yes! Spank me you son of a bitch! Punish me!"

I reached around her writhing body and spanked her a few more times, slightly harder each time. It just seemed like the harder I slapped her ass the more she liked it. She leaned down and bit my neck near my collarbone. In the morning I'd see she left a dark purple hickey. She leaned back and started caressing her breasts as she rode my cock. I reached up and pushed her hands away then squeezed her nipples and twisted them a little. 

I don't know why she liked it when I hurt her, but that put her over the edge. Just as I'd seen when she came while fucking Charlie, her whole body quivered, her mouth hung wide open in a silent scream, the only actual sound coming from her mouth was an occasional high pitched gasp. Her pussy clenched and unclenched over and over, almost forcing out my cock. I kept squeezing her nipples, slowly increasing the pressure. Her orgasm seemed to continue as long as I squeezed and tugged at her nipples. I didn't want to really hurt her so I slowly started to let up on the pressure.




Country Club Ch. 02



"Oh God," she regained her voice but her pussy still spasmed occasionally, like the aftershocks that follow an earthquake. "Please," she said, "no more. UH!" she shook again and I released her nipples. I grasped her hips and rocked her body while I continued to fuck her. She leaned forward with her hands on my shoulders and looked down at me with a glassy eyed expression.

"You come yet?" she panted. I just shook my head no and continued fucking her at the slower pace I'd switched to after she came. 

"Good," she said, and rolled off me. I rolled onto my side and watched as she got down on all fours on my bed. She reached forward with one arm and rested her head on it sideways, looking at me. She reached between her legs with her other arm, spread her outer lips and started teasing her clit. 

"Come on, fuck me," she demanded. 

I got up behind her and lined my cock up against her pussy. As I pounded into her she rubbed her clit manically, screaming, "Spank me! Spank my ass raw, daddy!"

Daddy? That got my attention. At twenty-five, she was actually a couple years older than me. But hey, whatever the lady wants, right? I thrust into her with a frenzied vigor that bordered on violence. The harder I fucked her the more she seemed to like it. I smacked her ass and leaned forward once in a while to maul her tits and twist her nipples. I had no idea she was into sex this rough, not from watching the video of her and Charlie. I'd never been with a girl who liked it like that but it was a huge turn-on.

She moaned and bucked beneath me. Then just as I was about to come she called out, "Fuck me!" over and over, "Fuck me, fuck me! Oh, God! Fuck me!" 

"Oh, fuck! I'm coming!" She screamed, then moaned loudly in a high pitched wail while her pussy clamped down around my cock. That must have been the big one, because she'd been pretty quiet the other two times I'd seen her climax. I couldn't hold back anymore. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back onto my throbbing cock, thrusting deeply into her hot slippery cunt for one last time, and shot my load deep inside her. My entire body trembled and my vision faded out to gray, as I rode her through the most intense orgasm I had ever had. Even if I hadn't been drunk, I think I would have passed out. I collapsed on top of her, my cock slipping out of her pussy. 

I was vaguely aware of Amy rolling out from under me, turning me over and pulling the sheet up to cover us before she leaned her head on my arm. Then consciousness faded to a series of strange disjointed dreams of Amy, berating me in some, demanding I fuck her or spank her or bite her in others, slapping me around, kicking and beating me up in others. I had one vividly bizarre dream that I remembered the next morning. In it Amy alternated between sucking my cock and claiming in an angry voice, "See what this pervert likes? See what he makes me do?" while my boss Tim looked on and filled out an employee incident report checking off boxes on the form marked "Perverted voyeur" and "Forced Oral Sex" and "Blackmailed member". 

In the middle of this dream I was drawn halfway to consciousness by the sensation of Amy sucking my cock while I slept. I moaned and tried to wake up but couldn't shake the cobwebs from the corners of my mind. Not sure it wasn't another dream I watched with half-lidded eyes as she mounted me and started riding my cock. I don't know if she knew I was awake or if she even cared. 

She rode me, whispering, "Oh, fuck me. Fuck me, daddy, fuck your bad little girl." 

I was completely blown away by this freaky bitch. She rode me to another of her silent orgasms then moved as if she were about to dismount me. I don't think she knew I was awake because she called out "Oh!" and seemed surprised when I grabbed her hips and pulled her back down onto my erection. I was more than half asleep but I managed to slowly thrust up into her, fucking her slowly and thoroughly. I think she came again when I finally orgasmed. When I shot my load up into her she fell down onto me, shaking with her mouth open in that silent scream with which I'd become so familiar. Faint light drifted in through the blinds and birds were singing outside. The world was waking up but I wasn't ready to yet. I fell asleep with her still straddling me, my cock still in her. 

I had no idea what time it was when I finally came to. My eyes were dried up and practically glued shut. Apparently Amy had lifted the blinds because sunlight was pounding on my head and preventing me from thinking. I tried to stand but instead I rolled out of bed onto the floor. I moaned in pain and tried to stand again, just barely making it this time. Amy wasn't in my room but she'd either left her clothes as a souvenir on my floor or she was still around someplace. I looked around my room for something to wear as I was still totally naked except, oddly enough, for one sock. While I stumbled around trying to remember where I kept my clothes and trying to acclimate to sober daytime life, I heard a crash from the living room. 

I tried to run but barely managed a stumble as I left my bedroom to see what new hell Amy had in store for me.

"Oh, God dammit! What the fuck?"

Amy was naked except for a ratty old t-shirt of mine that did little to hide her physical charms. As always, she managed to hide her non-physical charms just fine on her own. She was standing smirking over my computer which was smashed into three big pieces and probably around ninety tiny pieces on the floor of my apartment. 

"I found the video and deleted it. And then I made sure you can't get it back. See you at the club tomorrow. It'll be your last day." 

She pushed by me and sashayed into my bedroom to get her clothes. Between the pain of my raging hangover and the incredible level of bullshit I'd had to deal with from this woman, I just snapped. 

"AMY, YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCH!"

I'm not sure what sort of a reaction she expected but that seemed to take her by surprise. I followed her into my room, my eyes alight with anger and my hangover all but forgotten. She turned on me, still clearly unaware of the swiftly changing dynamic of our relationship.

"I don't know how many times I need to tell you, Dave, it's 'Mrs. Holcomb' to you, especially if you want to keep your job. You know, you were such a good fuck, I might be convinced to keep this quiet. But it's gonna take A LOT of convincing." She smirked.

"Is that right?"

She took off my t-shirt and threw it in my face. Apparently this was a signature move as she'd done the same thing last night. She started gathering up her clothes and said, "That's right, asshole."

I slapped the clothes out of her hands and picked her up by the shoulders. She kicked and screamed as I tossed her onto the bed. 

"You just got yourself fired, asshole! We could have had some fun with this! But you forgot who was in charge. Kiss your fucking job goodbye!"

"I didn't forget who was in charge, bitch. You don't KNOW who's in charge. You think the only copy I had of that video was on my computer? Do you think I'm stupid?"

She raised an eyebrow and looked at me mockingly.

"Don't test me, Amy. Don't fucking test me."

I scooped her clothes up off the floor and tossed them at her.

"You know, I just wanted to talk. I wasn't going to make you fuck me, or force myself on you. I was drunk last night, and I wasn't thinking straight. And I fucked up. And I was sorry. But now, I'm done taking your shit. Get your fucking clothes on, get the fuck out there, and use your hubby's gold card to get me a new fucking phone, and a new fucking computer. Then get your ass back here, because I am gonna fuck you raw."

"You're bluffing."

"Try me. If you don't believe me, go home. If you're not back here in an hour with my shit I'm going to Larry's and sending the video to your rich fuckwad husband. Let him deal with your bitchy ass."

She started to get dressed.

"Fine," she said petulantly. "But can you give me until four? I don't think I can get to the mall and get your shit and get back in an hour."

I looked at my alarm clock which had gotten knocked on the floor during the previous night's energetic festivities. It was noon.

"Fine. But if you want until four, you gotta blow me before you leave." 

She pulled on her shirt. 

"Okay, but..."

"What now!?" my pounding headache was returning and I was swiftly losing what little patience I had.

"I can't stay tonight. Donald has been away in DC all week but he's coming back tonight and if I stay..."

"We'll talk about it when you get back. Just fucking... shut the fuck up for now, please."

She nodded demurely and knelt at my feet. I was still naked from the night before (except for that one sock) and I hadn't yet bathed. I must have smelled horrible because Amy grimaced as she took my swiftly hardening cock between her lips. After bobbing her head on my penis a few times she stopped and started stroking it with her hand. She leaned back and looked up at me. 

"David, I'm sorry. About everything. I just..."

"Save it."

She nodded.

"Just blow me and get the fuck out. And you know what? Fuck this 'David' shit. From now on, it's 'Mr. Boyd' to you."

She went back to sucking me off then stopped again. She had an odd look on her face this time. I could tell she was up to something. 

"What if I called you 'Sir', instead? Would you like that?"

I was sure she was working an angle, but I was too hung over to even think about it. 

"Whatever, just... yeah, fine, whatever."

She smiled, which was really odd, and went back to sucking me off. If anything it was better than the last time. She seemed to really get into it. I could not figure this woman out. To be honest I wasn't really trying anymore. I had a pounding headache that had only faded to the back of my awareness because of the blowjob I was receiving. The head was so good I wouldn't have been able to think anyway. 

Her tongue wrapped around my cock, massaging and teasing me as she bounced her head up and down my shaft, sucking and making lusty moaning noises the whole time. When I started to come she pulled back until only the head of my cock was in her mouth, and greedily sucked the cum from my cock. When she was done she sat back with her ass on her knees and her hand stroking my cock, looked up at me and opened her mouth, showing me a mouthful of cum. Then she closed her mouth, swallowed, and smiled at me. 

"Did you like that, Sir?"

The bitch was crazy. I had no idea how to respond so I just said, "Yeah, that was great. Now get the fuck out of here before I get sick of waiting and email your husband."

She nodded and stood. She looked around the room for her purse. When she saw it and bent over to pick it up I lifted her short skirt and slapped her ass which was still red from the night before. Her hot pink thong did nothing to shield her ass from the blow. She cried out, but it sounded more like a cry of pleasure than one of pain. I dropped the edge of her skirt and she stood. 

We stood staring at each other for a moment, like a pair of boxers assessing each other before the punches start flying. 

"Give me your panties, and get the fuck out of here," I demanded. 

To my incredible surprise, she gave me her panties, and got the fuck out of there. 

I dragged myself into the kitchen and downed a glass of water and three Tylenol. Then I leaned up against the sink, slowly sipping another glass of water and tried, for the first of what would end up being many times, to try and figure Amy out.



Country Club Ch. 03



**************

Here is chapter three. I've decided to stick with Nonconsent / Reluctance. It seems the most appropriate of the several categories this story might fit into. 

The feedback I've been getting, especially the private feedback, has been very helpful and I really appreciate it. Letting me know what you like about it is great. The notes about things you think I could have done better, or missteps I might have made along the way are just as helpful. I also appreciate the plot suggestions I've received. I haven't yet decided whether or not to take any of those suggestions or where I want to take the story but I like getting them so keep them coming. 

When I started this story I wasn't sure how I felt about the conversational first person tone of narration, but I think it's working out nicely. I'm considered writing a chapter or two from Amy's point of view. If I were reading this story as opposed to writing it, I think I would find that perspective interesting. But I'm not sure if I can really write convincingly from a female point of view. I'd like to try it, but I also don't want to mess around too much and do something to screw up the story, which I think is coming along okay so far. I think for now I'll just keep doing it the way I've been doing it. 

As I've said in these author's notes before every chapter, comments and high ratings greatly appreciated. Seeing that people are reading and enjoying my story is really helping me keep this going. Thanks!

**************

After Amy left my hangover was still in full effect and standing around in the kitchen wasn't helping. My head had cleared enough for me to move around without feeling like I was being stabbed in the brain every time I took a step. I scrounged around in the junk drawer for a packet of Alka-seltzer, dropped the tablets in my water and chugged it down. Then I went and got in the shower. I started the water out warm and I leaned up against the tile wall with my head right under the spray. I slowly turned the temperature down until it was as cold as I could stand it and stayed in there for good ten or fifteen minutes. It sounds weird but it's always worked for me. After I started to feel better I turned the water back up to warm and washed up. Then I shaved, brushed my teeth and got dressed. 

I wasn't trying to impress her or anything, at least that's what I kept telling myself. But I did feel kind of shabby in my regular street clothes when Amy was around, looking all hot in her pricy designer outfits. So instead of my comfortable jeans, a t-shirt and my ratty old sneakers I put on a newer cleaner pair of jeans, a black dress shirt which I left un-tucked in (stylin!) and a decent pair of shoes. I tried to mess around with my hair a little but I keep it short so there wasn't really much I could do with it. 

I even splashed on some cologne my ex had gotten me before she moved out about a year ago. I'm not really a fan of the stuff but she liked it, and the few dates I'd gone on since we split up seemed to like it okay. When I do use it I only use a little because if I use too much the smell starts to get to me and all I can think about is taking a shower to wash the shit off.

By this time my hangover was pretty much gone so I made myself a sandwich which I ate while walking around straightening up my apartment. The whole time I kept thinking about this whole bizarre situation. I mean, before Amy left I'd laid down the law. I told her I was fed up with her antics and she was going to have to start toeing the line and doing anything and everything I said, or I was going to use the video of her screwing Charlie to take her down. 

So on the one hand, I was using this video to blackmail her and take my revenge on her for every shitty little thing she'd ever done to me. But on the other hand, here I was dressing up for her and cleaning up my apartment. I thought about it while I was in my bedroom changing the sheets on my bed and hiding all my dirty laundry in my closet. 

What the hell was I doing? I asked myself. Who was I trying to impress? Who the hell is in charge here? I gave it up for a lost cause and decided to try to figure it out later. My apartment needed to be cleaned up anyway, I told myself. I wasn't doing any of this for her. I knew I was full of shit but that's what I kept telling myself. 

When I was finally satisfied with the condition of my apartment I stretched out on the couch to see if Sports Center was on. Of course as soon as I started to get comfortable Amy showed up. I glanced at the time on my satellite receiver when I saw her car pull up. It was 2:30. She had made good time. I changed the channel from ESPN to a satellite music station. I was about to go into the kitchen and get the door for her but then I realized I ought to brush my teeth again since I'd just eaten. 

I heard her walking up the steps as I was walking into the bathroom. She started knocking just as I started brushing. My first instinct was to hurry up and go get the door. But then I stopped myself. Who the hell was in charge here anyway, right? I leaned up against the window by my sink and took my time. I don't think I ever brushed my teeth slower, or for as long. She knocked again, louder this time, and more insistent. I smiled, and kept brushing. Yeah, it was petty, but what the fuck? 

I leaned over to spit in the sink and she knocked again. It's amazing how much emotion, how much desperation can be expressed through a simple sound like knocking on a door. Maybe it was all in my head. Didn't matter to me if it was in my head because it made me laugh. I gargled some mouthwash and spit it out into the sink, then ran the tap making sure the sink was thoroughly rinsed out. I looked in the mirror to make sure I didn't have any toothpaste on my face before I left to get the door. 

I leisurely walked out into the kitchen and opened the door. Amy was standing on the landing facing away from me with her arms folded across her chest. I must have startled her because she jumped when she heard the door open. When she left she'd been wearing the same skirt and blouse she'd worn the night before when we met at the bar. Now she had on a figure hugging sun dress with a green and yellow floral pattern. It came down to just above her knees. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail and she was wearing those weird big designer sunglasses. I always think those big glasses some girls wear look like something Elton John would wear. Uh... but I guess that's beside the point. Anyway... 

"Oh, my God! I was knocking so long, I thought you'd left!"

"Sorry," I smiled at her. "I didn't hear you until just now. Come on in."

She picked up a couple shopping bags and walked inside. She set them down in the living room and took off her sunglasses, tucking them into the purse she slung over her shoulder. 

"I hope these are okay," she said nodding toward the bags on the floor. "I have to go now..."

I leaned up against the door jam in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen, blocking her way out.

"Ah..." she hesitated, "Donald is going to be home in a few hours and I... ah... have some... things?"

"You changed."

"I wasn't going to go out in public smelling like sex!" She grimaced at me. 

"So you went home, showered and changed, then went out and replaced what you broke, and got back here in, what? two hours?"

"No," I frowned at the haughty tone in her voice as she continued, "I went home, sent one of my servants out to pick up your shit, and washed up. Then I came back here."

"I told you I wanted YOU to go out. I took your panties when you left because I wanted you to go out in public with no underwear. I wanted you to go out smelling like you'd just been fucked."

"Oh my god, Dave, come on," she whined. "I don't have time for this now, I have to go."

"Dave," I deadpanned and looked into her eyes.

"S-sir..." she took a deep breath, "I have to go. I know you can... I know you have..."

"Get in the bedroom."

"Dave, come on! I need to go! Please!" She put her hand on my chest and pushed gently.

"I told you to go yourself." I walked toward her, edging her back toward the bedroom by pushing my chest against her hand. 

"I told you not to call me 'Dave' anymore." She gulped and continued walking backwards toward my bedroom. 

"You know that you have to do whatever I tell you to do, whatever I want, whenever I want it."

It looked to me like she was getting turned on. She hung her mouth open and she was breathing rapidly, practically panting. Her cheeks and lips were red and flushed. I reveled in the sense of control over her. Maybe it wasn't cool, maybe it was... I don't know, sexist or degenerate, but feeling as if I was in complete control of her was heady, arousing. I'd never been in a relationship like this and didn't really know what to do. I was making it up as I went along. But she seemed to like it.

"But you're telling ME what to do. You're telling me what YOU need to do. You know that's only going to make me angry." She put her hands out and held onto the bedroom door frame. 

"Dave, I have to go, please..." she pleaded in a small quiet whisper.

"I'll tell you what I think," I said as I picked her up. She wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. "I think you must want me to be angry with you. I think you WANT to be punished. Isn't that right?"

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head, "No," she whispered in the same pleading voice. 

"If you need to leave, then you need to do what I say, and then I'll let you go," I said in a steady measured cadence. "Do you understand?"

She looked at me and nodded. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes... Sir?"

"Yes, Sir, what?"

"Yes, Sir, I understand. I'll do whatever you say." She bit her bottom lip and tried to suppress a desperate nervous moan. 

I carried her to my bed and dropped her onto the mattress. She reached down to undo the buckles on her heels. I slapped her hands away. She looked up at me pleadingly and leaned forward, reached for my waist, lifted the hem of my shirt and started to open my fly. I slapped her hands away again. She leaned back, sitting with one leg up on the mattress and the other hanging over the edge of the bed. This hiked up her dress exposing the pale yellow panties covering her pussy. 

"What..." she hesitated, "Sir, I know I've been bad. Just tell me how you want to punish me."

I narrowed my eyes. "There you go telling me what to do again."

She flopped back throwing her arms out wide and moaned in desperation. I climbed up on the bed and kneeled between her legs, hiking her dress up above her navel. I looked down and noticed a wet spot forming on the crotch of her silky yellow thong. I started stroking her pussy lips very gently through her panties.

"If you keep wearing panties around me, eventually you're gonna run out of them."

She involuntarily bucked her hips and pouted at me. I stood up next to the bed and pulled her panties down and off, then stuffed them in my pocket. 

"Oh please, Sir, please..."

I rolled her over. "Get up on your hands and knees." 

She complied, "Oh Sir," she moaned, "fuck me, please, fu... AH!"

She cried out in pain and surprise when I slapped her bare ass. I spanked her again and she let out a high pitched gasp.

"I'm sorry I was so bad, Sir, I won't do it again." She looked back at me, a sexy combination of fear and lust in her eyes. 

"Don't you look at me while I'm spanking you, unless I tell you to," I snarled and spanked her again. She looked at the wall and cried out as I spanked her over and over again. 

I must have spanked her twenty or thirty times; sometimes harder, sometimes more gently, some blows came in rapid succession, some with pauses so long she thought I was done. When I did this I'd wait until she started to look back at me and spank her again. The entire time she whined and cajoled, as if she really wanted me to stop. Maybe she really did. But it seemed to me she liked getting spanked almost as much as she liked getting fucked.

"Oh, Sir, I know I've been bad! I'm sorry! Please, I won't do it again, I'll do what you say from now on! Sir, please!"

And then, somewhere in the middle, she stopped calling me "Sir" and went for "Daddy". "Daddy, please, oh! Daddy, I know I was a bad girl! Oh, Daddy! I learned my lesson! Please, stop, I'll be so good for you! I can be good! I can be good, oh! Daddy, please..." 

I considered telling her to shut up, that I hadn't given her permission to speak. But it was sexy as hell so I let it go. I'd never been with anyone like her. This was just... I had no idea. It was different, that was certain. 

I finally stopped. I slapped her ass one last time, watching the delicious shake of the perfectly curved little cheeks of her ass. After this last smack, instead of pulling back I left my hand on her ass. I let it rest there feeling the heat coming off her cheeks. After a minute I started to softly caress her butt. She... I can't call it a moan, the noise she made. She practically cooed.

"Oooooh..." she rocked her ass back into my hand. During her spanking she had dropped her head and upper back down to the bed and raised her ass up high. This caused her dress to fall so far forward that her naked breasts were exposed. I loved that she hardly ever wore a bra. I can't say I was in love with Amy, but I was deeply in lust. I caressed her ass a little more with one hand and adjusted my raging hard on with the other so I could move around more comfortably. 

When I stopped rubbing her ass she started to make a disappointed noise, but fearing a negative reaction from me, she clipped it off with a tiny worried little yelp. It was funny, it was cute, and I almost laughed out loud, but I managed to bite it back. If I started laughing now it would ruin the mood. She was the bad little girl and I was the angry punishing daddy, after all. I stepped over to my nightstand and pulled the drawer open, retrieving a bottle of lotion I kept in there for... that I kept in there. Shut up, everybody does it. Anyway...

I carried it back to the bed and sat behind her. I squirted a shot of lotion into each palm and gently rubbed it into her red raw ass cheeks. 

"Lay down," I ordered, and she complied. I squirted a little more into each hand and started rubbing her lower back. Then I worked my way back down over her ass to the backs of her thighs. 

"Mmmm..." she moaned happily as I worked my way down to her calves. 

"See," I murmured, "if you're good, and do as you're told, daddy can be nice to you."

"Ohhh, Daddy..." she moaned, stretching her legs and spreading them wide. 

I kissed the back of her left ankle, then ran my tongue lightly up her calf and lightly kissed the back of her knee. She whimpered quietly as I worked my hands and mouth back up the backs of her legs toward her ass. 

I fondled and kissed her ass. Then I spread her cheeks, took a look at her pretty pink asshole. It looked clean, and when I leaned in and smelled her it smelled okay, so I started to work my tongue down her ass crack toward her anus. When she realized what I was doing she squealed and squeezed her cheeks closed. Hrm. I decided to save it for when we had more time. I sat back and swatted her ass. 

"Roll over, bitch."

She bent her legs at the knees and pulled them up as she rolled over, then stretched them out and lay them down on either side of me again. Her dress was still hiked up high enough that I could see the bottoms of her tits. She looked at me, her eyes glassy. She opened her mouth and licked her lips. I grasped her upper thighs and firmly spread her legs wider. She bit her bottom lip and looked away from me, and started squeezing her own breasts. 

I leaned down and smelled her pussy. God, I love that smell. And she smelled great: clean but not perfumed, musky and feminine. Leaning even closer I kissed her just below the navel. Then I closed my eyes and rested my forehead on her mons, inhaling deeply to take in her scent. I have friends, lots of them actually, who tell me they don't like going down on a girl. But I've always liked it. It had been a while and I was planning to enjoy it. Amy's entire body quivered. I gathered she was too. 

Most women my age, most of the ones I've been with anyway, shave their pussies bare. Amy had her lips shaved clean. From the top of the cleft of her outer lips back there was no hair at all. But there was a full triangle of hair on her pubic mound, just barely long enough to start curling. It was trimmed meticulously so as to not show through the tiny thong panties she favored. 

The girl I'd lost my virginity to had a nice little bush, not a jungle or anything but more than Amy had. Ever since then, I'd found pubic hair to be kind of a turn on. But I also appreciate a nice hairless snatch when I'm going down on a girl. This was like the best of both worlds. I'd been way too drunk to notice the night before and was thrilled at this discovery. 

One thing I'd learned from my ex, who was anything but bashful in expressing what she did and did not like in bed (or anywhere else, pushy fucking... different story. Never mind). So anyway what I'd learned from her was that when you're going down on a girl, you gotta take your time. The smell of Amy's wet aching pussy was driving me nuts and I didn't want anything else but to dive right in. The way she humped her hips up toward my face that might even have been what Amy wanted, or expected. But I had other plans. 

I lightly kissed her inner thighs, first left then right. Amy let out an anguished moan. After last night there was no doubt she liked things rough and fast. But if drawing it out like this wasn't how she wanted it, well, call it part of her punishment. Her outer lips had spread slightly open on their own, and her pink wet inner lips peeked out. I kissed her pussy, and ran my tongue up, down and around its outer edge. Then I blew on her clit. 

She moaned again, then cried, "Oh, God, please..."

"Don't you dare come until I tell you."

"Ohhh..."

I licked her inner lips, tasted her pussy, flicked my tongue across her clit which was just barely exposed. She had a tiny little clit but judging by the way she moaned it wasn't any less sensitive for being so small. I couldn't wait any longer and she clearly wanted it bad, so I went for it. I twisted my tongue up and around her clit, then ran it down her pussy. I pulled her lips open wide and dipped my tongue inside her. I alternated between fucking her with my tongue and using it to lick and tease the bright pink bud of her clit. She bucked her hips up into my face and moaned. It had been a while since I'd had any practice at eating a girl out but apparently I was doing okay. 

When Amy sounded like she was starting to get close I sucked her clit between my lips and flicked it with my tongue. Then I stuck my middle finger up inside her. Her moaning became more intense, and I stopped abruptly. I leaned back taking my face away from her delicious pussy, but I left my finger inside her. 

"Amy."

"Ohhh, no, ahh..."

"Amy."

"Hnhh, d... Dave... Daddy... oh..."

I gently worked my finger in and out, tapping her on the clit with my thumb every so often to keep her at a fever pitch.

"Don't come until I say, Amy."

"Oh... oh... okay... okay..."

"Okay Amy. We need to talk."

"Ahhh!" the frustration was evident in her voice. I smiled to myself and continued.

"From now on, you will do everything I say."

"Uh-huh."

"If you're good, and do what you're told, I won't do anything to get you in trouble with your husband." I continued to tease her with my hand. 

"Okay..."

"And if you're very, very good, I won't do anything to embarrass you at the club."

"Ah! Ah! Oh please, s-sir, da-daddy... ah!"




Country Club Ch. 03



"Do you understand?"

"Mmm-hmmm!"

"You'll do anything I want. Anything I say."

"YES!"

"Say it."

"Oh, anything. Anything..."

"SAY IT!" I yelled at her and rammed my finger deeper into her, causing her some pain.

"Aow! Oh, Ahh! I... I will do anything... Anything you tell me..."

"Go on." I went back to gently stroking the inside of her pussy with my finger.

"I'll do whatever you tell me, anything you tell me to do any time you say..."

"And?"

"And... and... if I'm a good girl you... you will make sure you... you won't do anything to hu-hurt... you won't do anything to get me in trouble with D-d-donald... ah... and..."

I moved my finger faster and circled her clit with my thumb.

"AaandifI'mverygoodyouwon'tdoanythingtoembarassme... ah! Ah! attheclubohgodpleasenowpleasedaddy, oh, DAVID, PLEASE!" she squeezed out in a rush of words.

"Good girl." I withdrew my finger and stood. 

"Oh! What?"

"It's getting late. You've been very good and I don't want to get you in trouble." I licked her juices off my finger. "You can get dressed and go home now."

She looked at me incredulously. I smiled at her, turned and walked out of the bedroom. "Remember what I said about not coming until I tell you you're allowed to," I called from the living room.

A minute later she walked out, adjusting her dress and trying to straighten her hair. She looked flustered. A few hairs were glued to her forehead with sweat and her hands were shaking. She picked up her purse from the floor and took a few steps toward me, then stopped. She begged me with her eyes. I maintained my best poker face. 

"I work until six tomorrow. Can you meet me here at seven without causing trouble at home?"

She hesitated, then shook her head. "Donald is home until Tuesday. He..." she gulped. "He's usually in bed before ten. I can try to be here by eleven."

I looked at her and nodded. "Okay. I understand. Just remember, you aren't allowed to have an orgasm until I tell you it's okay. And that's not gonna happen until the next time we're alone."

She nodded.

"So try and be here tomorrow."

"Uh huh." She was slowly regaining her composure. She reached into her purse and pulled out the broken halves of my old phone. "I took the sim from this one and put it in the new phone." She handed the broken old phone to me.

"Okay, thanks." 

"And um, I put my number in the new one."

I nodded.

"So... I'll... go... now?" 

"Just a few things first. Do NOT come until you see me again. And don't think I won't be able to tell if you do. And do not have sex with anyone. Not your husband, and not Charlie. You're mine now. Understand?" 

How the hell was I supposed to know if she rubbed one out between now and the next time I saw her? Maybe she wasn't thinking straight or maybe she thought I had "magic daddy powers". 

Maybe, I was beginning to expect, she just really got off on doing whatever I told her, and maybe she really wanted to hold off, just because I told her she had to. Whatever it was, she bought it, or played along, or was into it, because she just nodded. 

"See you tomorrow?"

"I'll try, I'll try so hard," she whispered.

"Goodbye."

She walked past me into the kitchen. I followed her to the door. When she opened the door to leave I pushed it closed. She looked at me in surprise, hope in her eyes.

"What," I teased, "no goodbye kiss?"

I couldn't tell if the look in her eye was lust or anger, but either worked just fine for me. She stood on tiptoe, reached up and put her hand behind my neck, pulling my face toward hers. She pursed her lips as if to kiss me, but surprised me by bending her head to the left at the last second, and biting me on the neck. She sucked and bit, giving me a hickey on the right to match the one she'd left on the left just the night before. 

She stopped sucking, but held on for a second, my skin pinched between her teeth. Then she let go and buried her nose in my neck, inhaling deeply. 

"You smell good," she whispered in my ear and nibbled my earlobe before she released my neck.

I silently thanked my ex for the cologne which just a few hours ago I had decided I didn't really like after all. 

"I'll see you tomorrow... Sir." With that, she pushed past me and ran out the door. 

I closed the door behind her and listened to her rush down the stairs. I absent-mindedly rubbed the painful new love bite on my neck as I walked out into the living room. I leaned on the window overlooking the parking lot and watched her leave. 

She sat in her car for several minutes, both hands and her forehead resting on the top of her steering wheel. She looked up at me. I made no move, but kept watching her as she put on her sunglasses, started her car, pulled out and drove away.



Country Club Ch. 04



**************

I really appreciate the predominantly positive feedback I've received so far and I'm really sorry this chapter took so long to post. The real world's got a way of sucking up all my free time and I'm at a bit of a loss for where to take this story. I don't want to give anything away before you read it, so instead of getting into it here, I'll post a note at the end of the chapter explaining why. Maybe I can get some feedback to help me figure it out. Thanks to Lord Drako for suggestions, feedback and proofreading on an early draft of this chapter. 

**************

My two days off at the club are Thursday and Sunday. A lot of the time that's kind of a pain in the ass. A split weekend like that sometimes feels like almost no weekend at all. Larry ended up with Thursday and Friday off which he has always maintained is even worse because, while he does get two days off in a row, he always has to work Saturday and Sunday. I could see his point. Aside from the fact that most of our friends (and the rest of the world) have Saturday and Sunday off, those are the two busiest days of the week at the club.

Why does any of this matter? Why am I telling you this boring shit, right? It's because the next day, the day after my fun and games with Amy, when I got her all worked up and ready to blow then left her hanging and sent her home, was Friday. That was good for me because it meant Larry wasn't around and I didn't have to deal with a million questions. After I charged up my new phone and flipped it open for the first time I saw that I'd received about half a dozen texts from Larry asking me about Amy and what happened. Apparently the bartender described who I left with and he realized who it was.

Aside from Larry's game of twenty questions which I just ignored, the other thing I discovered when I turned on the new phone was that Amy had deleted every phone number on my sim chip with a female name except for "Mom" and "Amy". In addition to being incredibly annoying, it seemed like a confoundingly possessive thing to do for a woman who claimed to hate my guts and want nothing to do with me. 

I always got to the spa early so I could work out on the club's fitness equipment and set things up for the day before the members started showing up. So I had already been there for a while and was busy messing with my new phone and grumbling to myself when Erin, my partner on Fridays, showed up.

"Morning, Stud! How you doing today?" She grinned at me and punched me on the shoulder as she walked behind the counter and set her things down. Erin is a pretty black girl with big tits. It would be hard to describe her body when she was around without insulting her. She was kind of on the chunky side, but not in a bad way. She was about my height, and curvy, with big hips and a round ass. She wasn't fat, in fact she was in really good shape. She was just kind of, I don't know, big. She kept her hair short and dyed it a kind of reddish brown. She and I were good friends, but nothing more. We were fuck buddies for a while after I broke up with Tonya. But by then we'd already been friends for so long that neither of us wanted anything more serious. She'd been seeing a guy for a while now and she and I were back to being just friends. 

"Stud?"

"Ah... yeah, you're covered in hickeys there, buddy," she laughed.

"Oh shit!" I set my phone down and buttoned up the top button on my uniform shirt. I'd spend the day looking like a dork but it was better than catching flack from my boss.

Erin shook her head at me and laughed. She reached into a drawer and pulled out the first aid kit. Then she unbuttoned my collar and stuck two small Band-Aids over my matching set of love bites. 

"Anybody asks, you cut yourself shaving. So who's the lucky lady? Or did you and Larry finally share your true feelings?" She batted her eyes at me and made a cartoonish dreamy expression. 

"Ah... so I got a new phone."

"Real smooth. If you don't want to tell me about this new girl just say so," she said picking up my phone. "It's nice. I heard Amy broke your other one. What happened?"

"That was day before yesterday and I haven't seen you for nearly a week. How did you hear about it already?"

"Ben told me. He heard it from one of the caddies who overheard one of the members saying he heard her making a ruckus and yelling at you while he was taking a shower. Says he saw it happen."

It hadn't occurred to me how bad the rumor mill could be around here. I don't know how Amy had managed to keep her thing with Charlie secret, or how I was going to keep my thing with her secret. This complicated everything, as if it wasn't already complicated enough. 

"Aw, you know how things get blown out of proportion. Amy was flipping out Wednesday but she didn't do anything to my phone. I just wanted a new one."

"So you know when it happened, but it didn't happen?"

"Something like that, yeah."

"She's still giving you a hard time, huh?"

"Yeah, always did."

"I never understood why the two of you never hooked up back when she worked here. Although I guess you wouldn't have cheated on Tonya. You're not the type."

"Wha... huh?"

"Wha-huh?" She mocked me and laughed. "She always had the hots for you."

I looked at Erin like she had a hole in her head. "Amy fucking hates my guts."

"Sure she does."

"Come on, what the hell are you talking about?"

Erin rolled her eyes at me and sighed. "What's it matter Romeo? She's married now, and you're obviously not having trouble finding," she waved her hand at my love-bitten neck, "whatever."

"I just want to know what you mean. Come on."

"She's a bitch to everyone."

"Yeah, and?"

"She saves the worst of it for you. Always did. Any time we went out she would start an argument with you. You and she would spend the entire night sniping at each other. You were like an old married couple. It was fucking embarrassing."

"So you're saying, what, she treated me like shit to... what? Get my attention?"

"Kind of, I guess. Some women are just like that."

"What are we in first grade? That's fucking kid's stuff. What'd she expect me to do, tug on her pigtails and chase her around the jungle gym?"

"I didn't say it was a rational thing to do. Hell, maybe I'm wrong. It's just the impression I always got."

"Crazy bitch man..."

"I'm getting a cup of coffee, you want one?"

"Yeah, yeah that would be great, thanks."

Erin walked off toward the kitchens leaving me alone with my thoughts. This whole thing started Wednesday. Now it was Friday. I broke up with my long term college girlfriend just over a year ago. Erin and I fooled around for a little while but she started getting serious with her boyfriend about six months ago. Since then I'd spent the last six months in a long dry spell except for two or three fun but forgettable one-night stands. And now, in the space of two days, I'd gotten myself into the strangest, most complicated relationship I'd ever been in. 

Maybe I was just making it complicated. Amy was doing whatever I wanted. I didn't like the idea of holding that video over her head but she seemed pretty enthusiastically willing, and I probably didn't really need to anymore. Maybe I should stop worrying about it and just enjoy it while it lasts, I told myself. There was no future of a possible real relationship with Amy. Aside from the fact she was married, she was nearly intolerable when she didn't have my dick in her. I should just fuck her and enjoy it and not worry about it. 

I smiled and told myself, "There's no reason for it to be complicated at all." No sooner had I thought that, when Tom, the day manager and my boss, walked up to me. 

"Hey Dave, good morning! Listen, when Erin comes back, can you come to my office? I had a discussion with Mrs. Holcomb yesterday that I'd like to review with you. Okay? Thanks!" He smiled and walked away. Nope. No reason to complicate matters at all. 

Erin could tell something was wrong when she got back. "Dave, you okay?"

"I guess. But Tom wants to talk to me."

"Oh, that's cool, he's just doing employee reviews. You always do well."

I stood there with a blank expression on my face, positive that Amy had said something to get me fired. What the hell was I supposed to say?

"DAVE!"

"Huh? What?"

"I said your name like three times, and you're staring off into space and fiddling with your stupid phone. You're really acting weird today."

"Sorry, long night."

"I can see that." She gave me a searching look. She looked worried. "Go talk to Tom, it's slow now, I got this."

I turned to go but she grasped my shoulder to stop me. "You're really acting funny. I can get someone to cover the desk for us later on, if you want to go to lunch together, if you want to talk or something."

I did feel like I ought to talk to somebody about what was going on. As much fun as Larry was to hang out with I didn't exactly go looking to him for a sympathetic ear or good advice. "That's a good idea. Lemme go talk to Tom. We can catch up later."

Erin nodded and smiled, but she still looked worried.

When I got to Tom's office he ushered me in telling me to sit down and shut the door behind me. 

"Okay, David," he said, shuffling some papers around on his desk. "As you know, it's employee review time. You've been fine since your last review." He picked up and read a sheet of paper then set it back down, looked at me and smiled. "Better than fine actually. I've always liked working with you." He smiled.

"Thanks," I said, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"There is of course, the problem with Amy. The complaint she filed about you. She called me again yesterday afternoon."

Here it comes.

"She asked if I would remove the complaint from your file."

"Tom, I can explain... wait, what?"

"You heard right. She said she felt bad about it. She gave it some thought, and had decided she overreacted. She asked me to remove the incident report. I felt odd about including it in your file in the first place, she being a former employee and all. If she weren't married to Donald Holcomb I probably would have just thrown it away."

"Wow."

"Not what you expected?"

"Not at all. I thought she was... She doesn't like me very much and I thought she had complained about me again."

"I, ah, I was witness to one or two of your disagreements with her when she was still one of our massage therapists. Anyway I just need you to review and sign this revised incident report and you're all set."

I signed it and handed it back to him.

"Now as for your review. As I said you've been doing just fine. You're one of the few employees here with a degree, and Bramble Ridge recognizes..."

I'm not going to bore you with the details. I had trouble keeping my eyes open through the HR jargon, until Tom got to the punch line, which was: I was getting a raise, my vacation time accrual had gone up, and they had an opening for assistant manager he wanted me to apply for. I thanked him, took my copy of the review, shook his hand and walked back to the front desk at the spa in a daze.

"Hey!" Erin greeted me. "You seem better. Told you it was nothing to worry about. You all good?"

"Yeah... yeah! All good."

"You still need someone to talk to or you okay now?"

"Maybe we ought to go to lunch. I could use someone to talk to besides Larry."

Erin laughed. "Larry! Yeah, okay."

The day dragged on with the typical routine. I got so distracted with work that I didn't even think about Amy at all. Erin was on break and I was busy checking members in and making appointments for the different services available at the spa. I was focused on my work and didn't even notice Amy had walked into the spa. 

Amy was wearing a short green tennis skirt, looking fine as ever. She was walking quickly through the spa toward the showers, and Charlie was right on her tail. I couldn't help raising an eyebrow. I was helping an older woman at the time who must have thought I was reacting to something she said, because she shot me a dirty look. I gave her my plastic work smile and typed her info into the computer. "Sorry ma'am, just one more second and I'll have you all set."

I tried entering the booking and watching Charlie and Amy at the same time. They had stopped at the end of the hallway leading to the showers and appeared to be having a heated discussion. He raised his voice but I couldn't make out the words. He reached out for her hand which she pulled away. She glared at him for an instant then turned and sashayed down toward the showers. He stood there looking lost for a few seconds, then turned and walked the other way. My smile was much more genuine when I looked back up at my customer and told her she was all set in the time slot she wanted. 

That had been the last customer in line so I went back behind the divider to get a box of appointment reminder cards. When I came back out Amy was standing at the counter. I'd just watched her go back to the showers and didn't expect to see her there. I looked up at her in surprise and she caught me in her clear crystalline green-eyed stare. I did a quick double take, then cursed myself for showing any reaction at all. This game we'd been playing was all about control, I couldn't let her think she had any effect on me, you know?

"Hello Mrs. Holcomb, how can I help you today?"

"I missed you last night, Sir," she whispered, turning her head down as if looking at the floor, but looking up at me, fluttering her long eyelashes at me. I didn't reply, just held her gaze.

"Did you miss me?"

I looked around to confirm no one could hear us. "What do you want, Amy?"

She reached across the counter and put her hand lightly on my forearm. "I just got done playing tennis with some friends and I need to take a shower." She licked her lips. 

"I'm not going to do this with you Amy, not here, not now."

She pulled her hand back as if burned, crossed her arms and stared daggers at me. 

There's that old fire, I thought.

"I could get someone else to come with me," she growled under her breath.

"Try it," I dared her, then looked at the screen in front of me, pulling up member accounts at random to appear busy. She spun on her heel and stormed off toward the corridor of private shower rooms. 

She had only taken a few steps when I called after her, "I have your appointment set for this evening Mrs. Holcomb."

Amy froze and started to turn, but stopped. She dropped her shoulders in defeat and walked down the hall. 

When Erin came back from break she was followed by Brendan, one of the caddies who'd been training to work the spa. 

"Brendan's gonna cover for us while we go to lunch."

"Great, thanks buddy."

"No problem man, I owe you anyway."

Brendan was only nineteen and I bought him beer whenever he needed it. We weren't friends outside work but he was a good guy and we helped each other out whenever we could. 

Erin and I drove into town to a little sandwich place with outdoor seating. I started telling her what was going on in the car on the way over. By the time we got there I had gotten from the time Amy filed the complaint on me, up to the night I met her in the bar. Erin was looking at me with an incredulous bug eyed expression. We stopped talking until we had ordered our food and were seated outside. We took a table on the edge of the patio where no one else was seated, and I told her the rest of the story, from Wednesday night when we slept together for the first time, through Thursday when she smashed my computer and I decided to take charge, up until this morning when I thought I was going to lose my job because Amy had complained about me again. 

Erin looked at me and silently chewed her sandwich. She swallowed, took a sip of her diet soda, and said, "Okay first of all, Amy was right, you ARE a fucking pervert. Second, tell it to me again, only slower and sexier. That's the hottest thing I've ever FUCKING heard!" She slapped me on the shoulder and bit into her sandwich with a grin. A few people were staring at us now. I smiled sheepishly and waved at them. They looked away.

"So why are you letting this get you bent out of shape?"

"I don't know. It's weird. That stuff you were saying about her this morning threw me. I've been feeling like maybe she was more into me than she was letting on, and I'm not sure I'm okay with that. I mean, that thing with the phone numbers, she deleted all the female names from my phonebook. Why the fuck would she do that?"

"Uh... to piss you off? She obviously gets off on the shit you do when you're pissed. And not for nothing, seems like you do to."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Well she's clearly not getting what she needs from her husband, or she wouldn't have been doing Charlie. And from what you told me about the video... Can I see it?"

"I don' t have it here, but yeah, sure, of course."

"Cool. Well, the shit she was doing with you, she wasn't getting from Charlie. So maybe... maybe she's just buying what you're selling."

"Honestly, I don't know who's selling and who's buying. The freaky shit she had me doing, I never did that with anybody. And didn't do it with her until she asked me to."

"I got news for you buddy, a little spanking and some playful biting ain't all that freaky."

"What do you mean?"

Erin rolled her eyes at me and sighed. "I mean maybe you need to broaden your horizons a little. I'd bet she'd be into even kinkier stuff than what the two of you have been doing."

"Like what?"

Erin looked at me and kept eating her lunch. 

"You wanna hang out after work?"

"Can't, I'm supposed to see Amy."

"Gimme your phone."

"Why?"

She reached out her hand and made a grabbing motion, "Come on," she said wiping her other hand off on the table cloth, "just gimme the fucking phone."

I handed her my phone and started eating my as yet untouched lunch. Erin pushed buttons madly and paused. I ate my sandwich in silence and looked on. A minute later, maybe less, the phone vibrated. Erin looked at the screen and tapped away at the keypad some more. Again, after a longer pause this time, the phone vibrated. Erin read the screen, pushed a couple keys and handed me the phone. It was open to the text message history where I could see a series of exchanges between Erin (as me) and Amy.

=> David: busy tonight. come saturday instead

=> Amy: really need 2 c u

=> David: you really need to figure out who's in charge 

=> David: do what i say or i'll make you wait longer 

=> Amy: im sorry sir. what time saturday?

Erin had a shit eating grin on her face. "So it's 'Sir' now, is it? She's got it bad. If I were you I wouldn't tell her what time until tomorrow. It'll drive her nuts."

"That's great Erin, but after last night I'm as hard up as she is. I REALLY wanted her to come over tonight."

"Well, I guess I'll just have to try and show you a good time myself." 

It had been months since Erin and I last hooked up. She made it pretty clear when things started to get serious with her boyfriend that she and I were back to "just friends". I cocked an eyebrow at Erin, an expression she knew me well enough to know translated to "What the fuck are you talking about?" Her only response was a sly smile. She gathered up the remains of our lunch and tossed it into the trash behind our table. "We gotta get back or we'll be late. Come on."

I got up to follow her back to my car. On the way I asked, "What do you mean show me a good time, Erin?"

She put a little extra swagger in her walk, shook her ass at me. Then she looked over her shoulder at me and winked. Any doubts I might have had about what she meant were gone. 

In the car on the way back to work, even though it was against my better judgment, I had to ask, "Erin, what about your boyfriend?" Always gotta look a gift horse in the mouth. I was gonna fuck this up, I could feel it. 




Country Club Ch. 04



Erin sighed and gave me a bored look. "Who's in charge? With you and Amy, who calls the shots?"

"I do I guess."

"Well, with me and my man, I call the shots. Let's just leave it at that for now, okay? Ask me any more questions and you're just gonna fuck this up for yourself."

I shut my mouth and kept my eyes on the road. A short awkward silence filled the car. After a minute, I couldn't resist breaking the silence. "Yes, ma'am. I'm sorry, ma'am."

Erin frowned at me, or tried to. A smile broke through her façade and the two of use started cracking up. She put her hand on my knee and squeezed it. "It's mistress, David. Not ma'am: Mistress."

We both laughed again. But we didn't speak during the entire rest of the ride back to Bramble Ridge. 

Unlike the morning shift which had flown by, the rest of the afternoon seemed to take forever. Day shift during the week is dominated by old retired couples. The men spend their time out golfing and smoking cigars, and the women spend their time in the spa getting pampered, making ridiculous requests, and asking stupid questions. I'm generally pretty good at dealing with it. But the prospect of getting together with Erin again, even just once, and the anticipation of whatever it was she wanted to "show" me had me on edge. 

When six o'clock finally rolled around I walked over to Erin to ask if she wanted a ride to my place. She smiled at me, and waited several seconds before responding. "No, I need to pick up a few things. Don't worry, I remember how to get there."

I rushed home and jumped in the shower. After cleaning up I shaved off my five o'clock shadow, brushed my teeth and got dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Then I kicked back on the couch and cracked open a beer. I wasn't in the mood for TV so I put on some music and picked up a book I'd been reading. There wasn't much point in getting antsy about when Erin was going to show up. She was going to show me some stuff I could do with Amy. I figured she was going to try and drive me nuts with anticipation like I'd been doing to Amy, so I just tried to relax and wait it out. 

A couple hours and a couple beers later I heard footsteps coming up the stair to my apartment. But it sounded like more than one person. I got up to walk into the kitchen just as whoever it was started knocking on my door. When I opened the door I was surprised to see Erin and her boyfriend standing on my stoop. I was surprised to say the least, but I recovered quickly and ushered them in. 

"Hi, Dave!" Erin smiled seductively at me and licked her lips. What the fuck was going on here? "Have you met Rick?" I'd seen her boyfriend around, but we'd never been introduced. He was a tall skinny blonde guy. 

"Um, no. Ah, hi, man! I'm Dave." I stuck my hand out. Rick was carrying a navy blue nylon gym bag in his right hand, which he shifted to his left hand before shaking hands with me. He had one of those cold clammy limp fish handshakes that I hate. "Can I get you two a beer?"

"Sure!" they said in unison, then giggled, as if at some private joke. Erin took Rick's hand and pulled him into the living room. I grabbed three beers from the fridge and followed. Erin led Rick over to an old metal framed butterfly chair in the corner and pushed him down. She turned to me, took one of the beers and handed it to him. Then she walked over, sat on the couch, and patted the cushion next to her. I looked over at Rick, who just smiled at me and nodded. What the fuck?, I thought, and went and sat next to Erin.

"Erin, what the hell..."

Erin put a finger over my lips and shushed me, and took one of the beers from me. I decided to try and go with it, so I leaned back into the couch and took a swig of my beer. Erin climbed up over me and straddled me on the couch. Even though I was trying to go with the flow, I felt really uncomfortable with Erin being so forward with me in front of her boyfriend. 

"Erin, this is weird."

"Dave, does Rick look upset?"

Rick was now leaning forward in his chair. His elbows rested on his knees and he watched us, taking an occasional sip of beer. He looked more like a guy watching an important ball game than a guy watching his girlfriend seduce a guy she used to sleep with. 

"Um, no..."

"Rick, finish your beer."

"Yes, Erin," he said in a near whisper. He tipped the bottle back chugging it down, then put the empty bottle on the floor. He returned to his watchful posture. 

Erin stood and walked over to Rick. She bent down and kissed him. They sucked face passionately. Then she crouched down at his feet and unzipped the nylon bag. She rummaged around inside and pulled something out and set it on Rick's lap. She pushed him back and pulled his shirt off over his head, throwing it on the floor behind her. She picked something up and told him to put it on. They exchanged short whispered words that I couldn't hear, then he buckled what looked like a black leather dog collar around his neck. I watched in rapt attention, fascinated by this display. Erin pushed him back into the chair, then picked up a pair of handcuffs, which she closed around his wrists behind the chair. 

"Comfy?" she asked him in a playful voice.

"Yes, mistress."

"I'm going to fuck Dave now. Would you like that?"

"Yes, mistress."

My head was spinning. A week ago, if you'd told me I'd be blackmailing Amy Holcomb for sex and fucking Erin in front of her... her sex slave, I guess... I'd have told you to pull the other one. Erin stood and turned to me, smiling. She walked over to the couch and sat down next to me, then leaned back across my lap and wrapped an arm around the back of my neck.

"See Dave, Rick is my little bitch. Isn't that right, Rick?"

"Yes mistress," he answered calmly, serenely, as if all was right with the world. My eyes were bugging out of my head. 

Erin laughed at me and stretched across my lap like a cat in a particularly warm pool of sunlight. "This is for you and Amy as much as it is for me and Rick, Dave. I brought all kinds of toys. We're going to have lots of fun tonight."

"Erin, I had no idea you were into this kind of shit."

"Rick taught me."

"HE taught YOU?"

"Mmm-hmm. He and I love each other very much, and this is what he likes. I've learned a lot for him."

"Wow..."

Erin laughed at me, then pulled my face to hers and kissed me. We made out for a while. I was hesitant at first, while I got used to the idea of fooling around with Erin in front of her handcuffed and collared boyfriend. It didn't take me much time to get into it though, and before long I was working her tank top up over her head and removing her bra. 

Erin sat up and raised her arms up over her head so I could lift the bra straps up off her arms. I leaned back and she straddled me, pushing her breasts into my face. She had the biggest most beautiful tits of any girl I'd ever been with and she knew I loved playing with them. I squeezed her breasts and sucked her nipples. She moaned happily. I pulled her closer to me and embraced her while she rested her arms up over my head and covered my face in kisses. I lowered one hand to her ass and started squeezing, while I worked the button on her jeans with the other. 

Erin was about as different physically from Amy as a woman could be, but she was just as hot in her own way. Like I said she had big curvy hips, and a big ass. I got her pants undone but sliding them down over her big round butt while lying down with her straddling me was a good trick. She laughed at the trouble I was having and pushed me back, standing up between me and her boyfriend. She took a few steps back so that she was just in front of Rick then bent over and smiled at me as she pulled her jeans and panties down. She stayed bent over like that in front of Rick kicked off her sandals and stepped out of her jeans, smiling at me and squeezing her tits. 

Rick leaned forward in his chair and started kissing Erin's ass. She closed her eyes and released a lusty contralto laugh. I wanted in. I pulled my jeans down and stood. I was still a little weirded out by this scene but my cock appeared to be fine with it. I had a raging almost painful hard on which I lifted up and started rubbing on Erin's face. She bent deeper and leaned back into Rick's face, and started nuzzling and licking my balls. 

Erin reached around and grabbed my ass with both hands then pulled back and sucked my cock into her mouth. She was sucking and licking but she started to gag a little. I don't have a huge cock or anything but wasn't much room for her to move sandwiched between me and her boyfriend the way she was. I pulled back to give her some relief. This also gave me enough room to start thrusting in and out of her mouth, fucking her face while her boyfriend ate her ass as she moaned around my throbbing prick. 

The three of us were each lost in our own set of sensations so none of us noticed the footsteps on my stairs, or the sound of my apartment door opening and closing. But all three of us heard Amy's high pitched shriek when she turned the corner from the kitchen and walked into the living room. I jumped back, stumbling across the floor falling on my ass. Erin fell forward landing on all fours in front of her boyfriend who sat there, handcuffed to the chair with a comical surprised expression, his tongue still stuck out and curled up. I thought he looked so funny I couldn't help but break into hysterical laughter. This was probably not the best reaction given the situation, and Amy flew into hysterics of her own. 

She seemed to fly across the room and threw herself at me, shrieking and clawing at my face. "You blew me off for this fat bitch! What the fuck? Why? I thought you... I thought I..." she degenerated into an incomprehensible stream of livid profanity. 

I managed to grab her wrists and stop her from clawing at me so she started trying to knee me in the balls, still screaming at me. Clearly the girl had anger issues. I still couldn't stop laughing which only made her angrier. I scooted back across the floor trying to avoid her clumsy attempts to crush my boys, but I maintained my grip on her wrists so I carried her back with me. Eventually I hit the wall but I managed to wrap my legs around hers, effectively preventing her from crushing my junk. 

Amy continued her tantrum and I stopped finding the situation funny. "Why? Why ditch me for that fat black bitch?"

"Okay, that's enough of THAT shit," Erin said, pulling something out of her bag of toys and storming across the living room floor. She squatted down behind Amy and reached around her face. 

"No! Get away from me, Erin! Don't you touch m..."

Erin pulled a ball gag into Amy's mouth and buckled it behind her head. Amy started kicking again but her cries were muffled by the gag. Erin calmly caught one leg then the other, slipping leather cuffs over each ankle which she then clipped together. I pushed Amy away from me and stood. She immediately reached up and started fumbling with the buckle at the back of the gag. But I picked her up by her arms and carried her over to the couch. I sat down and pulled her over my lap. My erection still hadn't faded and it was now pressing into her belly. She and I struggled but I worked her hands behind her back. Erin walked over and slipped a pair of pink furry handcuffs around Amy's wrists. Amy writhed in my lap pulling against her restraints. I pulled down the zip at the back of her skirt, then pulled the skirt down to her knees. 

I was pleased to see that she wasn't wearing underwear. I didn't say a word; I just placed my hand firmly on her ass. She immediately stopped struggling and fell silent. I left my hand there until she looked up at me, eyes wide. She looked scared. I was as unsure of what I was going to do next as she was. 

**************

If you're completely disinterested in my thoughts on this story this is the part you'll want to skip.

So there it is. I hope you enjoyed chapter four. I've been stuck on that last sentence for weeks now. In a way it seemed like an awkward place to end it. But on the other hand, since both the main characters seem unsure of what's going to happen next, it also seemed appropriate. 

Now here are the problems I'm having. Where do I go from here? Part of me thinks I ought to just keep it all in the same category so I don't lose anybody who's been reading all along. But I don't think it really fits in Nonconsent/Reluctance anymore. The dynamic between the two main characters is turning into more of a consensual dom/sub relationship than anything else. So I posted this chapter in BDSM. If nothing else maybe it will get me some new readers. When I started this story I wasn't sure where to post this. The first chapter was an easy call, pure voyeurism all the way. The next two chapters were also an easy call, the (marginally inadvertent) blackmail, the coercion, a married woman forced into nonconsensual (in theory anyway) sex with a man other than her husband. Typical noncon. 

So now, where to go? I don't want to give the impression I'm writing for a particular category on Literotica. But I am using them as a device to help me describe to you where I could take this. So, Group Sex. Easy. There are four of them there. A foursome seems an obvious place to take this, except for the fact that one of the people in the room is, at least for now, unhappy with the situation. Gay Male? Maybe. Dave, my male lead, is not into that. But I imagined Rick as a bisexual sub right from the beginning so it could easily go there. But that's not something I'm into writing or reading so even if I do include those elements, I doubt any story I'd be likely to write would be appropriate for the category. Back to nonconsent? Easy. Amy is tied up, scared, not sure of what's about to happen, not in control. The thing I don't like about that is that this is not a rape story. I don't have a problem with all rape fantasy stories and I admit there are some I've read that I really enjoyed. But right from the beginning I imagined this as more of a... I don't know, a nontraditional relationship between two people who are attracted to each other but (at least in the beginning) hate each other. Given that and the power struggle I've established, it seems more like BDSM to me. But a lot of the stuff I've read in that category involves things that I have both no interest in, and no personal experience with.

As far as noncon, I don't want Dave to take advantage of Amy in this position in what could only be considered rape. She can't talk or move, anything he does from here would be... clearly nonconsensual, at least from his point of view. No matter how much she might actually be into it, he really has no way of knowing at this point, and no reason to think she's anything but unwilling, pissed off, and scared. But then, stopping, removing the gag, asking if she's okay with it, establishing a safe word or a signal and diving back into it, it just seems like it would break the flow, interrupt the rhythm I've established. 

Another thing hanging me up is that I'm not sure who's going to be fucking who. Dave was iffy about getting involved with Erin while her boyfriend watched. An obvious place to take this (based on other noncom/blackmail/bdsm master/slave stories) would be to have Dave make Amy fuck someone else. But how would Erin feel if Dave forced her on Rick? How would Dave feel? What if he makes her fuck Larry? Or his boss? Or... I don't even know. I think I'm over thinking this. In the timeline of the story, only three days have passed. Yeah I'm definitely thinking too hard about this. 

I personally dislike stories with long extensive author's notes and I know that's what I'm doing here. But I have received a few private messages asking where the next chapter is and I feel I owe it to anyone looking for the next installment to let you know where I am and why I'm hung up. I know I'm not writing literature here. But in addition to the fact that it's just fun, I am doing this to help improve my writing. I figured I'd knock out some fun quick and dirty smut and get in some much needed practice. Now here I am agonizing over my characters' motivation and my plot path. I should probably just try and write some hot and heavy, sticky and wet stroke and get this story over with. I don't know. I'll get over it and figure it out eventually. I always appreciate feedback but I make no promises about taking advice anyone sees fit to give. 

I can't say when you should expect the next installment. I have the start of one more chapter written, but it wouldn't work as the NEXT chapter and it also wouldn't work as the LAST chapter. So I guess that means there are at least three more chapters coming. But I haven't started chapter five yet because I haven't decided yet where to take this.

Like I've said in my notes on previous chapters, comments and high ratings greatly appreciated. Thanks!

**************