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Ladies of the Club Ch. 01

By: LynnGKS



Dear Reader: This story is a continuation of the story told by Diane Miller in "The Perfect Wife" and is now told by a new character Fred Clarke.




The ladies of the club were out in force tonight, I thought, as I surveyed the dining room. In the corner I saw Bridget with her bright red hair and big tits sitting next to her distinguished, grey haired husband who was at least 75 years old. The gals in the club called her Trixie. She was 35 years old and looked stunning in a bikini – her body was everything her husband had paid for, but usually he was too sleepy to use it.

We were not the richest golf club in Orlando but we had our share of moneyed folks and sometimes it seemed like we had more than our fair share of rich old guys with trophy wives. There were three or four good-looking trophies here tonight.

My name is Fred Clarke and I am manager of this luxury golf club. I'm married but recently separated. My wife went back to live with her folks in Palm Beach. I still manage some of their properties in and around Orlando, but my main job is running this club. I live in this exclusive gated community in a lovely home with a pool and a golf course view.

Looking back at the bar, I see Diane Miller in a bright yellow dress that shows off her fabulous figure. She's alone. Her husband John must be off again on one of his trips somewhere in Florida. 

John Miller and his partner Bob Lafferty specialized in Maritime Law – what the English call Admiralty Law. Both John and Bob have great reputations so they travel a lot all over Florida consulting with other lawyers about complex maritime cases, especially those that involve foreign ships in American waters.

Bob was off on a vacation with his new wife Margie. He'd been married only a few weeks. I'd often seen him at the club with Diane when her husband John was on the road. And I had an idea that he'd been fucking her. I had tried to check that out last week. 

One of the properties I manage for my father is a little mall with a hair salon run by this guy from Brooklyn who fakes a French accent. It was called "Jean-Pierre Vanity Hair" and the guy used the same name for himself.

Pierre was gay − as queer as a three-dollar bill and he spoke with an exaggerated feminine voice in what he thought might be a French accent, misusing French words and waving his hands like a girl. A flaming fairy, but many of the gals in the club thought he was the best hairdresser in Orlando. He did Diane's hair.

I had stopped by last week and asked him about Diane.

"Oui, Monsieur. I do her hair."

Then he made a sly smile and whispered, "Top AND bottom, Monsieur. The bottom when she's meeting her special friend."

"Do you know her special friend?" I had asked him.

"Non Monsieur, except that he is, as you Americans say ... well endowed."

Then he giggled flourishing his hands in the air almost like a girl.

Here was this gay guy from Brooklyn pretending he was French and fooling no one!

Anyway according to Jean-Pierre, Diane was fucking somebody and it might have been Bob because Diane had not seen her "special friend" for over a month. 

Looking at Diane's body as she sat at the bar made me want to invite her for a drink. Maybe there was something there, I thought. I got up and walked over to the bar.

"I have a quiet table back there if you'd like to join me," I said.

She looked up and gave me a bright, friendly smile.

"Oh Fred I'd love to."

I picked up her glass and taking her by the arm I escorted her back to my table. It was impossible not to observe the view down her yellow dress as I walked next to her. Her tits were beautiful and her dress showed them off to perfection.

"John's in Miami for a few days," she said. "I guess you read about that cruise ship that had all those problems."

"Yeah I read about it. Gives Florida a bad name."

"True, but it makes a good living for John and me," she said laughing. "If they keep having problems like that they'll have to put John and Bob on a retainer."

"Where is Bob," I asked, knowing full well where he was but wanting to gauge her reaction to my mention of his name.

Her mood changed instantly. I had been right. There HAD been something between Bob and Diane.

"Off in Jacksonville with his new blond bride Margie," she said.

She was trying to be light and easy but I could see from her body language and the way she said Margie's name that Margie was not her favorite person.

I signaled the waiter.

"What are you drinking?" I asked.

"Glenmorangie on the rocks," she said. "John drinks it like the Brits with no ice and a little water but I need the rocks. John learned to drink it that way in London where he spent a year studying Admiralty Law." 

The waiter arrived and I said, "Another for me and Glenmorangie rocks for the lady."

"Make it a double," Diane said.

That's encouraging, I thought. I made a quick calculation and concluded that if she were fucking Bob it had been almost five weeks since she's had her ashes hauled. That fit with the last time Jean-Pierre did her bush. She was probably very horny by now.

She asked about my wife and I explained that we were separated. I was not rich enough for her I said sarcastically. Diane had nodded and made a disparaging remark about Palm Beach. We talked easily together and she ordered another drink. I switched to wine and asked her to dance. She was a very good dancer.

Back at the table again Diane looked around the room and her eyes settled on Trixie.

Then she asked, her voice dripping sarcasm, "Been swimming recently?"

I chuckled. It was widely known that after hubby went to bed Trixie went swimming in her pool starkers. All a guy had to do was join her for a swim and then take her into the pool house where there was a large bed. 

"On occasion," I said. "All the guys do. But I don't think her husband minds. He bought her as a display model."

"Well some of the ladies are not her fans," Diane said laughing. "One gal in the bridge club woke up one morning and discovered that her husband had 'pool hair.' She said he denied everything but she thought he was guilty." 

Across the dining room we saw Walt Higgins and his wife Beth. Walt was a very obese guy and Beth was a buxom thirty-something bleached blond. She looked like a trophy wife but actually they'd been married since college where he'd played football. She was the gal he had dated since high school. 

Diane saw me looking at them and said softly, "That's a sad story."

"Yeah, I said. "It was a storybook romance until Walt's weakness for booze got to him."

Tonight Walt was getting quite drunk as he often did. Walt had a big belly and Beth had big tits. She also had a reputation for having a needy pussy. I watched as Don Knox our golf pro walked over to join their table. He had been seen frequently helping a drunken Walt home.

I sighed and whispered, "That's what happens I guess when a husband can't satisfy his wife."

"She could be a little less obvious about it," Diane said.

"Why bother," I said. "Everybody in the club knows about it."

"How do you think that poor bastard feels?" She asked.

I tried to put myself in his place. It wasn't easy.

"I'm sure he doesn't like it but what the hell can he do? I think he still loves her after all those years. But he can't give her what she needs and she's still young enough to need it. At least she only does it when he's drunk."

"But he knows it's happening!" Diane said. "He'd be a lot better off if he didn't know. Guys don't handle that sort of thing very well – not well at all."

I thought about her husband John. Diane talked like he was totally unaware that she was fucking his partner Bob. Maybe he was. If John knew, then he was handling it very well. Anyway, she was now looking for a new stud. Maybe I could fill that role.

I took Diane's hand and led her out to dance again. This time she pulled me close – obviously horny. I danced her over to the darker part of the dance floor and she molded her body to mine and began rubbing her pussy on my thigh. I reached down and played with her butt. She wasn't wearing any panties. She wants to fuck, I thought. Not exactly like shooting fish in a barrel, I said to myself, but damn close.

I pulled her closer and whispered in her ear, "My place or yours?" 

"Mine," she whispered. "John usually calls about ten-thirty. I like to be in bed by then."

Then she paused and finally added with a chuckle, "You know ... resting."

That was easy!

I looked at my watch and thought we had plenty of time to fuck before ten-thirty and then I had a second thought and I said to myself, maybe not. It all depends on what this horny bitch is expecting from me.

I led her out to her car in the parking lot. I kissed her and played with her ass. Then, she fumbled around in her purse and handed me the keys. I drove to her place and parked in her garage. We went in and she led me directly to the guest bedroom.

"Never hurts to be careful," she said as she started to undress. "Don't want spots on the marriage bed."

When she had stripped down to heels, hose, and garter belt I said, "Why don't you mix me a drink?"

"You bastard! If you wanna ogle a naked woman walking around why don't you go to a titty bar?"

Then she laughed and posed for me – hands behind her head to show off her tits. God! She was beautiful!

She casually strolled across the room with an exaggerated motion of her ass and poured me a scotch with a little water added. The booze and glasses were all set up like she was expecting to bring some guy back here, I thought.

I had ample opportunity to admire her lovely body and a delightful dark brunet, almost black, beaver. It was extremely hairy tonight – like a jungle. She needed to see Jean-Pierre for a trim.

When she handed me the drink I sat it on the bedside table and took her in my arms. Her body was soft to my caressing hands

"Oh God your hands feel good," she moaned. "It's been so damn long."

Her hands reached up and began unbuttoning my shirt.

"You seem to be in a rush," I said chuckling.

"Don't tease me! Please don't tease me," she whispered. "Just do me. I really need it tonight Fred. It's been a long time."

I got naked and we got into bed. She reached down and began stroking my cock. I am uncircumcised and she quickly put her mouth on me and moved her tongue around the head of my dick.

"Oh God I love that taste," she said looking up at me after sucking the juice from under my foreskin. She was eager and completely out of control.

Moving rapidly, she threw one leg over my body and mounted up to do me cowboy. Reaching down she guided me into a dripping wet pussy and shoving her hips forward she rammed that sausage home. Then she began to hump frantically, supporting herself on her extended arms. I could feel a thick hard clitoris rubbing against my pubic bone as she humped. The bitch knew exactly what she was doing.

Her tits were bouncing vigorously over my chest and her face was a mask of passion. Her eyes were closed and clenched tight, her mouth was open and she panted rapidly, and her head was arched back. She was the very picture of a horny bitch in heat sating her passion.

It was less than three minutes till her contractions began and she screamed with each one. Finally her sweating body collapsed helplessly on top of me gasping for air. Not once during the entire time did she give a single thought to me or to my pleasure. It was all about HER! Satisfying some powerful demanding monster inside her pelvis.

I lay there unfulfilled but very happy as I realized that I owned this horny bitch. She was mine! She needed sex so much that I could make her do anything I wanted. I had no idea why her husband could not satisfy her but I didn't care. She was a whore and I didn't care about that either because she was gonna be my personal whore.

I rolled her sweating, panting body off of me and went into the bathroom to take a piss. On the counter were two bottles of Jean Pierre Vanity Douche. The bitch was ready to clean that damn thing up after I used it, I thought – make it smell nice again.

When I got back in bed she cuddled up to me and whispered softly.

"Thank you for that. Fred, you have no idea how much I needed it."

Then suddenly as if realizing for the first time that I had needs as much as she did, the selfish bitch sat up and spoke almost desperately, "Did you cum? Was it okay for you too?" 

I embraced her tenderly and patted her on the back. "It was wonderful for me. This is not a one-time thing Diane. I expect to use you on a regular basis when John's out of town. And of course some afternoons when he's at the office you can walk over to my place and no one will see you come in the back."

She pulled me close eagerly and whispered, "I will. I will. Any time you want me."

I looked at my watch. It was not ten-thirty yet.

"Let's talk," I said.

"What about?" She asked.

"How long did you fuck Bob?"

She took a deep breath and looked off in thought trying to decide whether to open her life to me. Then she turned to face me, as if she had reached a decision.

"John and I got married about four years ago. He's a wonderful man and I'd never hurt him, but after a year I concluded he couldn't please me in bed."

She threw her head back and laughed. I watched her tits jiggle as she laughed.

"He couldn't ... well ... you know, he just couldn't ring my bell."

"He couldn't bring you to orgasm?" I asked.

"No he couldn't," she said. "He'd fuck me till HE had an orgasm, about five minutes. Then he'd go to sleep. I never had one and after a few weeks I started to fake it."

"But just now," I reminded her, "YOU did all the work and brought yourself off and it took way less than five minutes."

"I tried that with John but he wouldn't do it that way. He got upset when I did that. I think he felt that a lady should not act that way ... I mean ... like a whore. He even said that once."

"And, well," she continued, "Bob fucked me that way – fucked me just like a whore. I started fuckin him regular a little over two years ago when I finally gave up on getting pleasure from John. But don't misunderstand ... I LOVE my husband! He just can't bring me off."

I chuckled, "You and John are just like Walt Higgins and Beth."

"Like Walt Higgins?" Diane almost shouted.

"Yeah," I said. "Walt and Beth love each other. He just can't bring her off."

She sat up with an angry expression on her face.

"It's not the same. It's not ... Shit! Well yeah ... I guess maybe it IS the same ... except John doesn't know I need another man. And please God never let him find out. I can't turn him into another Walt Higgins, listening helplessly as his wife gets banged in the next room."

"Have you fucked Beth," she asked.

"Yeah I have. Several times."

"Did you spend the night?"

"Only once," I said remembering that terrible morning. "I fucked her the next morning and then went into the kitchen for coffee. Walt was there, sober, and I suddenly realized he'd heard us fucking. Beth grunts when she pumps her ass and then screams when she cums. The look in his eyes made me ashamed of what I had done."

"Look in his eyes?" Diane said.

"Yeah. He looked at me like I'd kicked him in the balls and he was helpless to do anything about it. He'd been a tough football player, you know, aggressive, masculine, but now he couldn't do a damn thing about a guy fuckin his wife in the next room and then joining him in the kitchen for coffee."

"Did you go back?"

"She's good pussy so yeah I went back. I fucked her while he was drunk and asleep and then I left. The next morning he knew she'd been fucked but I doubt he remembered who fucked her."

"That's sad," Diane said softly. "I don't want to do that to John EVER."

The phone on the bedside table rang and Diane answered it with a bright smile in her voice.

"Good evening darling! I just went to bed. How's the case going?"

She listened as he described the passenger lawsuits against the cruise line.

"That could be expensive," she said. Then she listened some more.

"Fine print? On the tickets? You wrote it last year? Oh my God!"

Then she laughed. "You damn lawyers! That's why everybody hates you."

She settled back on the pillow comfortably and reached down with her hand and began to caress my balls as she talked to her husband, almost like she didn't want me to feel left out. My dick got hard.

She talked and listened some more. Then her voice got soft and loving. "I love you too darling. I miss you so much when you're gone. I'm laying here in bed naked and wishing you were here to make love to me. I'll think about you as I go to sleep tonight. Please hurry back."

"Me too, darling. Good night," she whispered into the phone.

She hung up and turned to me and let go of my testicles and began to stroke my erect cock. Then, spreading her legs wide, she pulled me on top of her.

"Make it a long slow one, baby. But do it hard. Pound me! I'm in the mood for rough sex tonight."

I fucked her like she asked and it was good pussy. She started to grunt and talk dirty like a gal who was getting properly fucked. Yeah I said to myself – if John didn't like a whore, he wouldn't like his wife tonight. She's a real slut tonight.

I came twice before we went to sleep and brought her off twice. It's nice to fuck a woman and not have to go back to a lonely house. To lie next to her and go to sleep knowing there's friendly pussy waiting for your piss hard on the next morning.

I spent the next afternoon balancing books and signing checks. By cocktail time I was finished and I gave Diane a call. She met me in the lounge at the club. She had on another revealing, but decent, dress. It was clear from her demeanor that she expected to get fucked again.

"When does John get back?" I asked.

"We have three more nights darling," she said with a giggle.

"I hope I'm up to it," I said with a big sigh, feigning exhaustion.

"I stopped by to see Jean-Pierre today," she said. "I'm all trimmed and neat and as Pierre said 'Fit for a gourmet.' He criticized me for letting it grow out like a jungle."

I laughed. "I still have trouble picturing you on your back, legs spread, with that fake Frenchman down there with scissors and comb, his face inches from your bush."

She giggled, "Pierre is harmless."

"Harmless for you," I said, "but I wouldn't let that fag bastard anywhere close to MY groin!"

She threw her head back and laughed loudly. Then she whispered, "He'd do a better job on that blue-veined monster than I would, darling. All you'd have to do is close your eyes and you'd never know the difference."

"I'd KNOW the difference! I'd KNOW the difference!" I said laughing with her and cringing at the thought of that fag sucking my dick.

"I was thinking, darling, is your pool private?" she asked. "I mean can you turn off the lights so we can swim without the neighbors seeing us?"

"What a wonderful idea!" I exclaimed. "That would be fun. I have a big soft double lounge right next to the pool."

She giggled.

"Let's have dinner here and sip single malt till it gets dark and then walk over to your place. But we need to watch the clock. I want to be in bed when my loving hubby calls."

"You're always careful to be where he expects you to be," I said.

She smiled and said softly, "When you love a man as much as I love my John you're careful never to disappoint him."

We had a lovely dinner, then swam naked in my pool. I discovered that my big lounge was perfect for eating pussy and the bitch loved it. Then she talked about sex as she lay on the couch in the moonlight, legs spread, me on my knees, my face inches from her now well-satisfied pussy.

"My God you do that well," she exclaimed. "Bob did it and brought me off but you are a real gourmet. You know, Bob always bragged about his nine-inch pussy-pleaser even though it wasn't really that long. But you're shorter and thicker than he is and please me just as much. I fucked a guy with a real short one in college once and he brought me off just like you and Bob. Why the hell can't my husband bring me off?"


Ladies of the Club Ch. 01



"Have you tried talking to him about what you like?" I asked.

"Oh yeah. I tried a lot that first year we were married. He said he didn't like to hear his wife talk about things like that. I even showed him. I tried to position my clit so his pubis would rub it but he didn't like to fuck in that position. I found out it was less trouble to just fake it and use my finger after he went to sleep."

"Well Diane," I said. "If you tried and he didn't listen, then it's his fault. No need to feel guilty about fucking Bob or me."

"Guilty?" Diane said. "I don't feel guilty at all. I'm entitled to my fun. I just don't want to hurt John by letting him find out I need to fuck someone else. You think you could fuck me on this couch?"

"Well," I said. "Let's try and then we can go back to your place and wait for John to call."

And we did. I felt a little guilty lying next to her in bed, listening to her loving conversation with her husband, while she played with my balls. By the time John got back I had heard four of those bedtime conversations and I began to understand that they had a very tender and loving relationship. I wouldn't want to be in his place, but he was getting as much love and affection and pussy as he wanted. He had a good marriage as long as he didn't find out that his wife needed just a little bit more peter than he was giving her.

This was gonna be a very satisfying affair and Diane was very happy that she no longer had to wait for John to leave town. She could fuck as many afternoons as she wanted at my place.

Where was this gonna go, I wondered?



Ladies of the Club Ch. 02



By the time John got back from Miami, his wife and I had developed an excellent relationship in bed. She was looking forward to sneaking into my place in the afternoons for something extra. John and Diane had dinner at the club a few days after he returned. I walked over to their table as they were having an after dinner drink.

"Did you have success defending that cruise line from their angry passengers?" I asked.

"Join us Fred and I'll tell you all about it," John said.

I pulled up a chair and sat down next to the gal I'd been fucking several times a day while her husband was out of town. I'd probably fuck her tomorrow afternoon while John was at work. She was a whore, I thought - a beautiful, warm, friendly whore. If John stopped fucking her like a lady and started to fuck her like a whore she wouldn't need me at all.

John told me all about how he was gonna defend the cruise line against the angry passengers. Not being a lawyer I was not so sympathetic to the technical details about the case and felt a bit sorry for the passengers whose toilets had spilled feces all over their cabin floors. As he finished his story he looked up at the entrance to the dining room and smiled and waved.

Looking over my shoulder I saw a smiling Bob and Margie enter the room and head for our table. I glanced at Diane who had quickly started to smile. I could tell it was a forced smile. She was still pissed at Margie for stealing the guy she had been having an affair with. Women!

"Pull up a couple of chairs and join us," John said.

I signaled a waiter to take their drink orders and then watched Diane analyze every detail of Margie's dress and hair, jealousy just oozing from every pore. I thought about how men and women were so different. A woman takes it very personally when another woman steals her man -- a guy just shrugs and starts looking for another gal with big tits.

Margie looked across the table at me and smiled.

"Hi stranger. Long time no see," she said.

Well THAT required an explanation! I explained.

"Margie and I knew each other at Florida State a while back. The Lambda Chi house was across the street from Sigma Kappa."

I got a very strange look from Diane as I said it.

Bob listened with interest as John brought him up to date on the cruise line case. I was bored hearing the story over again in more technical terms. Margie and I exchanged glances and Diane eyed us suspiciously, almost as though she were afraid of losing yet another man to the gal she called a bitch in private.

I think what pissed off Diane the most was the size of Margie's tits and a bra that let them jiggle as she moved around. Her nipples were hard enough to visibly show through her blouse and I remembered when I used to date her she said that when her nipples decided to make an appearance there was not a damn thing she could do about it.

Then the conversation turned to houses. Bob's condo was not big enough or private enough and Bob and Margie told us their plans to buy a house. I got a nasty look from Diane when I offered my help. She was less than enthusiastic about me driving Margie around our resort. I think she was jealous!

As the months went by Diane and I settled into a comfortable routine. We fucked two or three afternoons each week at my place and Diane said it was great not to get horny and grumpy between John's trips. Of course I slept with her when John was out of town. Servicing her regularly seemed to make her a very happy wife. John even commented to me on how cheerful she had become.

Then after several months Diane drove up to Birmingham for a week to celebrate her mother's birthday. It turned out to be a very eventful week.

The day she left I got a really strange call from John. He wanted to talk. I invited him over to my place that night.

We sat on my patio next to the pool and I poured him a glass of Glenmorangie and moved a pitcher of water to his side of the table. I poured some for myself adding some ice and remembered drinking Glenmorangie with his wife the first night I fucked her. We each took a sip and then he made a very strange request.

"Fred you've fucked a number of women in the club and I want to ask you something that will sound strange. I've been worried about it for several months. The thought won't go away and you're the only guy that can help me."

Jesus! Yeah I'd fucked a lot of women in the club -- trophies and non-trophies. What the hell's this all about, I thought. I tried to stay calm and nodded.

"Bob Lafferty told me an interesting story," he continued. "He said he was fucking a gal who was married to a guy in the club who was not performing his husbandly duties properly. He called her Gail, which was not her real name. And said that he was gonna quit fuckin her after he married Margie. He laughed about how Gail was gonna get her needs met. Her husband was not taking care of her in bed and she was gonna have to find somebody who could."

I nodded as I listened to the story trying to conceal the anger I felt. That bastard had told John about fuckin his own wife! Told him stories about fucking Diane but called her Gail. What a perverted sense of humor!

John paused and took a sip of his single malt. I waited.

"Do you have any idea," he asked, "who Bob was fucking?"

"Let me think a moment," I said, looking off into the night.

My mind was racing. Obviously something had happened to make John suspicious of Diane. Why else would he ask that question? Never mind that! Was he suspicious of me? I doubt it -- otherwise we wouldn't be having this talk. I had to point him in a harmless direction. Trophy wives! That's it! I'll tell him about trophy wives. But maybe I'll need more than that -- something he can't easily check out.

"May I speak in complete confidence? You won't repeat anything I say?"

"I'll keep your secrets," he said.

"Not just MY secrets John. I'll be talking about fucking other guys wives -- wives whose husbands don't know they're fucking somebody else."

"I swear I won't say a word," he said.

"Okay," I said. "There are six or eight trophy wives in the club that fuck like minks. I'm sure you've heard about some of them. Trixie is the best known. She's fucked a lot of guys."

John nodded his head.

"And several more trophies, not so well know, that are available to the right man." 

He nodded again.

"Then there are some other wives, non-trophy wives that is, that I know for sure fuck around. Bob might have been fucking one of them. Two in particular come to mind right away. The first gal that comes to mind is Beth, who is married to Walt Higgins. Walt is impotent. Beth fucks a lot of guys. The second wife is Rachel Barker who ..."

John interrupted me, "Doctor David Barker's wife?"

I nodded.

"Oh my God!" John exclaimed. "Rachel Barker fucks other men?"

"Yeah. I fucked her. Fucked her a lot. She's a damned good lay for a gal forty years old. Huge tits and a real talented tongue -- a tongue that goes back where the sun don't shine. She's very careful because hubby doesn't know she's giving away pussy. And she's particular. Doesn't fuck very many guys. If Gail was a regular for Bob then my guess is that Gail was Rachel Barker. Otherwise, and probably more likely, it was one of the trophy wives, in which case it's hard to say which one."

"Jesus," John said. "How many of these gals have you fucked?"

"Over a dozen," I replied. "There's a lot of pussy available in this club -- some of it prime stuff."

John seemed bewildered by what I had told him. I still couldn't figure out why he was asking these questions unless he suspected that his own wife was Gail. Was he wondering about that? Then I thought about Bob. He was a real bastard to get his jollies telling poor John these stories.

John continued, "I talked to Bob about marrying Margie. I asked him if he was gonna keep fuckin Gail and he said probably not. I asked him what Gail was going to do. Bob laughed and said, 'She's one horny bitch. She'll either do without or put the make on the golf pro. The pro's got a really big dick -- and I told you how much Gail needs a big one.'"

Jesus, I thought. When you care about a woman you can fuck her but you don't talk about her that way. Poor Diane was trapped in a marriage that gave her everything except the sexual satisfaction she needed. She'd been getting that from Bob. It was not something to laugh and joke about. Bob was an asshole!

I could tell that John was upset. He had refilled his glass several times and his speech was getting slurred. Somehow I need to get him away from this entire line of thought - bring this guy down to earth. Give him a look at the real world.

And more than that! John needs to know that he's got a problem in bed. But if he figures out he can't please Diane in bed then he might think maybe she really IS Gail. What the fuck do I do? Then I had a really crazy idea.

Maybe I need to walk him over to Trixie's swimming pool, I thought. She might be out tonight. Yeah! I'll do that. He's drunk enough. I don' know for sure but ... well ... you never know. Stranger things have happened.

"Let's go for a walk John," I said. "I want to show you something."

Drinks in hand we walked the three blocks to her pool and we lucked out. Trixie was swimming around naked in the moonlight.

I waved at her. She waved back and her big tits jiggled as she did so.

"Hi Trix," I said. "May we join you?"

"Come on in," Trixie said, giggling.

I think she was happy to see me again and John was new -- fresh meat so to speak. I got naked quickly and John undressed down to his undershorts. Then he just stood there embarrassed. I reached over and jerked them down and pushed him into the pool. Then I joined him.

We played around in the water and I introduced John to the joy of Trixie's tits.

"They float," I said. "Look at 'em floating like big balloons in the water."

Wonder of wonders! Strictly moral John began to play with Trixie's tits. We were laughing and joking and it was only a few minutes until we went into the pool house.

Trixie locked the door with some comment about John being new.

John had a hard on.

He fucked her first. Five minutes of nothing till he grunted and ejaculated. Trixie had a puzzled look on her face when I mounted up. I took my time and did her right and worked on her clit till her contractions began and then I pumped my load. John was eager to go again and it was the same as before -- five minutes of humping.

Trixie had the strangest look on her face the whole time. I gave her a second worthwhile fuck and she said a smiling thank-you when I finished her off. John stood there, drunk, as if nothing unusual were happening. We went out for a brief dip in the pool to rid ourselves of bodily fluids and secretions. Then John and I started to get dressed.

I leaned down to Trixie who was still in the pool and whispered, "Tell him the truth Trixie. He needs to hear it."

Trixie looked up at us as we waved goodbye and said, "Thank you Fred for a really fun time. And John, that's the worst fuck I've had since high school."

John said nothing as we walked back to my place. When we sat down at the table on my patio he poured himself a Glenmorangie straight and belted it down.

Then he looked at me and almost shouting said, "She's a whore!"

"Yeah," I said. "But she's a whore who knows a good fuck from a bad one."

"I'm drunk," he said. "Can I come back tomorrow night when I'm sober? I'd like to ... to ... well ... talk to you some more."

To make a long story short, John joined me the next night and I introduced him to another trophy wife. This time stone cold sober. He was as bad a fuck as before and the whore told him so.

We went back to my place to talk and drink. I told him straight that he was a lousy fuck -- drunk or sober. Both gals said so and I asked if he noticed that I was careful to bring each gal off before I pumped my load. Then I told him in no uncertain terms that fuckin wasn't just for guys -- it was for gals too.

It was a long talk but when it was over John had come to understand that he didn't know how to fuck. That's a difficult thing for a man to accept but I think he finally did. The Glenmorangie helped a lot. I hoped he'd remember our conversation when the booze wore off.

The next day John visited his Urologist who sent him to a pair of qualified sexual councilors. A husband and wife, trained in St. Louis, who worked with couples who had sexual performance problems. It was a long consultation, he said. And the most embarrassing conversation he had ever had in his life.

John stumbled into my place the next day uninvited and looking shocked and sad and bewildered and scared as hell.

"They won't help me unless my wife is there. I love my wife but I can't talk to them in front of HER. I just can't! The stuff they talk about you would never believe! And it's not just talk! They want to ... I mean they want me to undress and ... I can't do that with my wife. When I told 'em that, they offered me a surrogate. That's a whore you pay to teach you how to fuck."

"A surrogate is NOT a whore," I said. "She is a legitimate part of sex therapy. But I think you're better off with Diane than with a surrogate."

"How do I tell Diane? I can't talk about sex with my wife," he shouted, agitated.

"John that's the biggest part of your problem," I said. "You can't talk about sex with your wife. Diane's coming back Monday and with your permission I'll talk to her first."

"You'll tell her what I did with those whores?" John almost shouted, visibly distressed.

"I'll tell her what you DIDN'T do very well with those whores."

"And what they said about me being ... a lousy ... well ... a lousy ... you know?"

"I'll tell her exactly what they said."

"This is gonna be embarrassing," he said. "Very embarrassing!"

"Not half as embarrassing as the alternative," I said, thinking about Diane fucking Bob and now me.

I don't know if John got THAT message but he seemed to calm down a little. I could see his mind working fast and furious. I hoped he was reaching the right conclusions.

If I could convince Diane to work with John I'd lose a regular piece of ass. But when I thought of the supply of available pussy remaining in our club, I realized that I'd have no dry spell at all.

Sitting with Diane on my patio the night she got back I told her what had happened to her hubby while she was gone. She listened patiently as I began the story but when I mentioned Trixie she suddenly screamed loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood.

"YOU TOOK MY HUSBAND TO FUCK A WHORE?"

"Actually," I said laughing, "it was TWO whores."

Diane did not think it was funny -- not at all funny.

Then I told her what Trixie had said.

"Oh my God," she moaned shaking her head from side to side. She loved him so and was distressed that he had been hurt that way. She'd always pretended with him. Now she was thinking that John knew it had been pretense.

Almost in tears she said, "Poor John! What did he say when Trixie told him that?"

"Nothing to her but he told me later that he was drunk and he wanted to come back sober."

"And another whore told him the same thing the next night?" Diane asked. "When he fucked her stone cold sober?"

I nodded. She was distraught.

Then I calmed her down and outlined for her what had happened and the plan John had worked out with the therapists.

After I finished she sat in silence for a while and then she asked me a question very softly.

"Do you think he knows I fucked Bob?"

"He didn't say and I don't know," I replied. "But I think he wants to forget all about it because of what he said when we talked about Walt Higgins and Beth and Dr. Barker and Rachel."

"What did he say?" Diane asked.

"He said Walt and Beth were a sad couple and they would be a lot better off if Walt was like Dr. Barker and didn't know what his wife was doing."

She thought for a minute in silence and finally replied, "He said almost the same thing to me a few months ago -- a few months? Shit! It seems like years. But my life seems to be changing for the better."

"He's gonna try Diane. He's really gonna try. It won't be easy for him. Or for you! He has buried his normal sexual expression deep inside himself for a lot of years. You and his councilors are gonna have a tough time bringing it up the surface where it belongs. He will be very uncomfortable when that starts to happen. Just like a closet cuck reading a porn cuckold story."

She looked at me tenderly.

"You know how much I love my husband," she continued. "So Fred, I'm gonna try to make this thing work out. Of course I won't be ... you know ... seeing you any more. You understand."

"I understand. I won't be lonely. I'll have lots of companionship."

"You horny bastard," she chuckled, "you'll have more companionship than you can handle. And that reminds me. The other night when you said you knew Margie at Florida State. Was that the 'Biblical' knew?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you could say it was Biblical," I said. "But only for a few months."

"I saw you staring at that bitch's nipples." Diane said. "Well, Bob travels just like John so maybe you'll get reacquainted with Margie now that she's so close and ... so convenient."

"And if you do," she continued, "there's no need for that bastard Bob to know anything about it. And it couldn't happen to a more deserving husband."

Then she laughed. It was a dirty laugh. Women! They take losing a man to another woman very personally. She'd like nothing better than seeing me make a cuckold out of Bob Lafferty using the wife who stole him from her. I'd have to tell her of course and I can see her now throwing her head back and laughing loudly. Then I thought about the way Bob had talked to John and figured Diane was right -- Bob deserved it.



Ladies of the Club Ch. 03



My name is Fred Clarke and I am manager of a luxury golf club in Orlando. I'm married but recently separated. My wife went back to live with her folks in Palm Beach. I live in this exclusive gated community in a lovely home with a pool and a golf course view.

Sitting at the club bar enjoying a bit of Glenmorangie on the rocks I look out at a nearly full dining room. I see Diane Miller and her husband John having lunch with his partner Bob Lafferty and Bob's new wife Margie.

John Miller and his partner Bob Lafferty specialize in Maritime Law – what the English call Admiralty Law. Both John and Bob have great reputations so they travel a lot all over Florida consulting with other lawyers about complex maritime cases.

John and Diane have been in therapy with two sexual counselors for almost four weeks now. They have kept it a close secret. I am the only friend who knows about it. I helped John make the decision to see a counselor.

I walked over to their table as they finished their lunch to say hello. John and Bob quickly said their good-byes and got up to go back to their office. Margie hurried off to meet a lady realtor who was helping her look at houses because Bob's condo was not big enough for the needs of the newly weds.

I signaled the waiter and ordered two glasses of chardonnay for Diane and me. Then I joined Diane. I was very curious to hear about how John's work with the sexual counselors was progressing.

"How's it going?" I asked.

Diane knew immediately what I meant and she broke out in laughter.

Finally controlling her laughter she whispered, "He's simply priceless, poor thing. We talked for the first three sessions and when we talked about orgasms he was so uncomfortable I thought he was gonna die. Then John and I got naked in their special bedroom to try out some of the things the counselors had explained to John. And then when the lady councilor joined us to help, the poor dear lost his erection."

"It took forever for the two of us to get him up again and I mounted him so she could show him how a clitoris was stimulated when a gal did a guy cowboy. When she started talking about my clitoris he lost his erection again."

Diane almost broke up laughing as she told this story trying to whisper so people at nearby tables would not hear. I was laughing with her as I tried to imagine John in this embarrassing situation.

"Then the counselor suggested that she undress and have intercourse with John."

"She fucked him?" I asked.

"She was ready to. She undressed and took hold of his dick and he got his erection back and then he quickly began to apologize to me for getting an erection when another woman grabbed his dick."

Diane said gasping for breath as she tried to whisper and laugh at the same time.

"So she rolled him over on top of me," Diane continued, "and showed him how to put pressure on my clitoris with his pubic bone when he fucked me missionary. Then she told him to do it both ways with me at home. That's when he lost his erection again. We couldn't get him back up after that."

I was laughing as hard as she was as I tried to picture in my mind that poor bastard being taught how to fuck by this strange woman.

"So we practiced this at home while we continued the counseling sessions," she said.

"Is he learning how to do it?" I asked.

"Let's say he's making some progress. The problem is getting an erection when he's concentrating on doing the technique right. When he thinks about doing it correctly his dick gets soft. Then after a couple of drinks when he starts fuckin me he does it wrong."

"Does he bring you off?" I asked.

"Are you kidding? Nowhere close! I even think about fuckin YOU and even that doesn't help because then I start thinking about what a bastard you are."

"Me? A bastard? Why?"

"I see it in your eyes every time you start to fuck me. You KNOW you're gonna bring me off. You KNOW I'm gonna start trembling and talking dirty. And you're not doing it because you love me, like my poor husband is trying so hard to do. You're doing it so I'll spread my legs for you the next time you're in the mood to fuck. Doing it so I'll be easy pussy when you need it. Doing it so I'll be your bitch! And ... and ..."

"And what?" I asked.

"And I AM your bitch! God damn it! Fred, can you do me this afternoon. I haven't had an orgasm in weeks."

I leaned close and whispered, "Diane just walk over to my place and go through the back. It's not locked. I'll be over in a few minutes."

She looked at me, nodded and whispered, "Thank you Fred. Thank you very much."

I took care of several things in the office and then made my way home. When I entered the bedroom there was a stark naked Diane lying in bed playing with her pussy like a high school girl. I casually began to undress.

"Hurry up you bastard! You're teasing me!"

"Yes Diane," I said. "I AM teasing you, taking my time and enjoying myself because it's so much fun to see a woman as beautiful as you with a pussy as needy as yours, begging me to hurry up and fuck her. And especially after she gave me that long lecture on why she couldn't fuck me because she loved her husband."

"You bastard! Forget that lecture. Hurry!" Diane yelled at me.

When my shorts came down she grabbed me and pulled me into bed and mounted me just like the first time I fucked her. She was as hungry for it today as she had been then and she pounded away just as hard this time as before and it took only a few minutes before her contractions started.

But this time I rolled her over while her orgasm was still in progress and spread her legs wide lifting her ass up with both my hands putting her legs over my shoulders and began pounding her pussy deep. I had my fun and pumped a big load, not caring a damn for her pleasure but feeling the bitch have another orgasm before I finished her off.

We lay there breathing heavily before I rolled off her.

Then I said, "So much for ... what was it you said? Oh yeah! You said you're not gonna fuck me while you're trying to help the man you love learn how to fuck. Are we through with all that?"

"You really are a thorough-going bastard!" Diane said. "I love him and I'm trying to help him, but ... shit ... I need it so yeah I guess we're through with all of that."

"So when you need it and ask for it I'll take care of you and when I'm in the mood?"

"I'll fuck! You bastard! I'll fuck any time you want me to!"

"That sounds like a fair deal," I said.

Diane and I enjoyed a quick shower together and I dressed as she was blow-drying her hair. After she went home I made a few necessary phone calls and then as the setting sun was making a beautiful bank of clouds bright red, I sat on my patio and poured myself a Glenmorangie on the rocks. Lighting a small cigar I enclosed myself in a fragrant cloud of smoke.

As I was about ready for a refill, the loving husband of the lady I had just fucked this afternoon suddenly appeared on my patio.

"Got time for a talk?" John asked.

"Sure," I replied, getting up and filling a pitcher with water.

John poured his single malt and added a careful measure of water.

"I need some more help," he said.

What is this about I wondered? I was already helping him by keeping his wife's sexual appetite satisfied, but I doubt that's what he was talking about.

"How can I help you?" I asked.

"How the hell did you learn to fuck?" He asked, bluntly.

I chuckled remembering his wife's comments on my bedroom skills this afternoon. John had not talked to me about the sexual counseling but I sensed he was not happy with his progress. I wondered if I could help him?

"It was all due to an ugly girl." I said remembering my senior year in high school.

"An ugly girl?" John asked astonished.

"Yeah," I said. "An ugly girl. I was a good-looking guy but I had no luck at all with the gals in my class. A goodnight kiss and the next date I'd reach for an ass or a tit and that was the end of that."

"There was this ugly girl down the block. She was a year older than me and kinda ... well ... kinda fat. One night I sneaked some liquor out of the house and the two of us walked over to a quiet place in the park and got a little drunk and played around."

"Played around?" John asked.

"I got her tits out and played with them," I said, remembering that night like it was yesterday. "Then I started to play with her pussy and she yelled at me, 'NOT THAT WAY' and I couldn't figure out what she was talking about."

"What had you done to make her react like that?" John asked.

"All I did was shove two fingers into a dripping wet pussy," I replied. "She grabbed hold of my hand and said, 'Up here dammit. Up here.' And I had my first introduction to a clitoris."

"Yeah," John said. "I been learning about those damn things the last few weeks. Real important things."

"Very important things," I said emphatically. "She showed me how to stroke it and tickle it and said different girls were turned on by tickling it in different places and some liked it very gentle and other girls wanted it a little rougher and it was all very complicated. But you had to do it right."

"Yeah," he said. "I learned that you have to do it right. That's not easy. It's hard to think and fuck at the same time."

"Anyway," I continued, "I gave her an orgasm with my fingers. Then she showed me how to use my tongue and I gave her another one with my tongue. Then the next week after I got some rubbers I fucked her and she showed me how to rub her clitoris with my pubic bone when I fucked."

"That's very difficult to do," John said. "I been practicing that all week."

I remembered Diane talking about all the trouble John was having trying to stimulate her clitoris when he fucked her and chuckled silently.

"Yeah John," I replied. "That's very difficult to do but it is an absolutely essential thing to do when you fuck a woman. Position is everything! Sometimes you just fit together easily but other times you have to work to make it fit."

"After that experience I quit grabbing tits and ass and simply danced close and made sure that my thigh was rubbing very gently on a gal's clitoris as we danced. By the time I got the gal to a nice dark parking place you would be amazed at how friendly she was."

John had a second and then a third drink and when his speech was nice and slurred he finally asked me the question that I knew he was eager to ask.

"Fred, do you think I might fuck Trixie again?"

Trixie was a horny trophy wife whose elderly husband fell asleep quite early in the evening and who entertained visitors in the pool house. The ladies of the club called her a whore, which I suppose was, technically, accurate. John had fucked Trixie at my suggestion and when she told him he was a lousy fuck he decided he needed professional help and began counseling.

To make a very long story short, he DID fuck Trixie again but I had a brief talk with her first. I persuaded her that this particular fuck was in the nature of a therapeutic intervention and urged her to work carefully to position her clit for maximum pleasure. She did her part and John did his and for the first time in his life he gave a woman an orgasm with his dick.

As we walked back to my place I said, "Well John you gave a woman something that her husband couldn't give her."

He didn't respond and I could tell he was lost in thought.

Finally he said very softly, "When a husband can't satisfy his wife it's hard to blame her for finding satisfaction elsewhere."

I didn't say anything as we continued to walk.

Finally in helpless resignation as though reaching a conclusion he said, "I guess it's better not to think about that."

"You're right John, it's better not to think about that," I said, remembering that I was gonna fuck his wife tomorrow afternoon. I felt glad he had decided not to think about things like that.

When we got back to my place we had another drink to celebrate and John couldn't stop describing the feeling of those contractions on his pecker. He left for home with an enthusiasm I had seldom seen in a man. 

I sat there remembering the first contractions I felt years ago with that ugly fat girl. Then I called Diane and explained to her what had happened. She was very happy about her loving husband's triumph.

"How did she do it?" Diane asked.

"She's a more experienced whore than you are my dear. She's fucked a lot of guys who didn't know how to fuck and she's experienced at getting her clit in the right position."

"Thank you for helping him Fred. But I'm NOT a whore."

That, I thought, was a matter of interpretation.

I fucked John's wife again the next afternoon and she told me how she had tried, unsuccessfully for weeks, to get an orgasm when John fucked her. The good news was that she had "come close" as she described it.

Meanwhile I got lucky again!

At happy hour on Thursday I saw Rachel Barker the wife of Doctor David Barker munching delicately on some celery. Watching her diet, I thought. Rachel was forty-five years old and starting to gain weight. Now at one hundred thirty five pounds, she was heading for one forty, but naked she was something to behold! She had sexy handholds and big tits and a great ass to grab hold of when she was doing you cowboy. She was a fun fuck!

But Rachel was very careful who she fucked because the good doctor had no idea that his loving wife was giving away pussy. I was one of the lucky few and I could tell by the way she smiled at me that I was about to get lucky again tonight.

"David is in Tallahassee at the state medical convention," she said with a big, warm smile. "Are you busy tonight?"

I told her I was not but even if I had been I would have canceled what ever it was because I didn't get many opportunities to enjoy this horny bitch. She was a special treat because she wanted to be teased until she got so horny she begged for it like a slut.

It was fun to watch this dignified lady beg desperately to get fucked but that's the way she got her jollies – being reduced to a begging slut. She had told me I was one of the very few guys who had the patience to do that to her the way she liked.

We had an early dinner at the club and I rode in her car to her house where we had cocktails in the living room. I went to extremes to treat her like a decorous lady because I knew it was the transition from lady to whore that turned her on. I kissed her several times in a very proper manner, careful not to put my hands on her breasts or butt.

We engaged in polite conversation. I felt that the time was about right after several drinks when her speech got a little slurred. We were sitting on the couch and she had unbuttoned the top button of her blouse so I could see a bit of cleavage.

I said harshly, "Okay bitch get naked!"

"Don't you DARE speak to me that way," she protested strongly.

It was all pretense of course but the effect on her was instantaneous. Her nostrils flared and her face became flushed as her sexual arousal suddenly increased.

"Get naked." I said again. "You're the one that wants to fuck."

"YOU BASTARD," she screamed. "Nobody talks to a lady that way."

I continued the playacting saying, "You're not a lady, you're a slut and you're gonna beg for it before I'm finished with you."

Then I reached over and started to strip her down. She pretended to resist but really didn't and where necessary she actually helped me undress her, all the time protesting that no lady should be treated this way. 

When she was naked I pulled her roughly to her feet and started her towards the bedroom.

"My shoes, my shoes!" She screamed.

Obviously she wanted the taller and thinner look that spike heels gave her.

"You're fat baby and shoes won't help," I said. "You're just a fat whore who wants to fuck."

The bedroom was dimly lit and I pulled back the bed covers and shoved her onto the bed. She lay there pretending to cover her nakedness with her hands but not doing a very good job.

I took my time looking over her body. Her heavy breasts rolled around on her chest like two big water filled balloons. She still had a good waistline but her hips were filling out a bit – great thighs though.

However her most impressive feature was her beaver. It was jet black to match her hair – a thick mass of short curly hairs obscured her clitoris and grew up on her belly to a point like a man's escutcheon. Her spread legs revealed hair growing down on each side of her labia and around between her pussy and asshole, covering completely the cuckold's chin-rest. There was a full inch of curly black hair growing down on each thigh.

Her labia minora were engorged and wet with arousal, spread open, and they hung out a full three inches. This pussy had seen some serious use. The good doctor was her second husband and I suspect it got that use during her first marriage. The size of her pussy made me suspect that her first husband had had some help pounding it.

She had told me once that the good doctor was a muff-muncher and I imagined him burying his face in this wet, hairy thing. This was a four course meal!

I stripped and lay down next to her, my fingers parting that thick bushy beaver to get to her clitoris. It was as hard as a rock and almost the size of my thumb. I began to stimulate it but I had to maintain a delicate balance between arousal and orgasm. I did NOT want her to cum. I wanted to drive her wild with the DESIRE to cum.

Give the bitch credit! She was working with me. She KNEW what I was doing to her because I had done it many times before. This was the reason she had invited me over tonight. This was her big thrill.

Her body was responding to my teasing. Her hips were humping regularly and she was panting like she was working to cum but I was not gonna let that happen. When she got close I took my finger off her clit and played with her dripping labia. I looked at the bedside clock. It usually took about ten minutes of torment before she got fully into the begging mode.

Right on schedule she started to beg, softly at first without the dirty words. I knew that would change and it did, going from, "Please do me," to, "Fuck me dammit I need it," and finally as she lost all control to the pathetic pleading obscenities of a foul-mouthed slut. I looked at the clock and let her beg, bringing her several times to within seconds of orgasm before taking my finger away from her madly thrusting pelvis.

Finally when her body language told me she couldn't take a minute more I rolled over between her legs and slipped my cock into her and began a gentle fucking as she pumped her hips furiously trying to get her clit against me. After a few minutes I put my pubic bone against that humping clit and let the horny bitch bring herself off. Then I fucked her till I had my orgasm.

I lay on top of her sweating body resting and listening to her say thank-you over and over. And telling me I was the only man in the world who could do that, which I knew was a bit of an exaggeration.

We were well rested when the phone rang and I heard her greet her husband and tell him how much she loved him and missed him. All the time she had the phone in one hand and my balls in the other. Why do women do that? I asked myself for the hundredth time! After she hung up the phone she rolled over and did me cowboy with those massive breasts hanging down in my face and my hands grasping two big hand-fulls of fat ass.

I fucked her again the next morning and then played the begging game again Friday night. I enjoyed another wife's side of a husband-wife conversation before I fucked her again. I got one last fuck Saturday morning before her loving hubby got back that afternoon. All in all, a very satisfying two nights.

The next week Bob Lafferty was in Tampa for several days on a complex case and Margie asked me to show her several houses that were for sale and tell her what I thought about them. Late in the afternoon we checked out a nice place with a pool and hot tub. 




Ladies of the Club Ch. 03



Margie and I had had a lot of hot tub sex when we were dating at Florida State. This pool area was very private and I suggested to Margie that we take a swim and enjoy the tub.

She gave me a crooked grin and chuckled, "I was wondering how long it would take you to make a play you horny bastard. I could see your old horny self when you stared at my nipples that day at the club."

"You have big, beautiful nipples," I said. "They're standing up now."

"As I told you before," she said, "I have absolutely no control over my nipples. They come and go on their own initiative."

I slipped my golf shirt over my head and started to loosen the belt on my shorts.

"My husband is a good friend of yours," Margie said seemingly outraged. "I can't imagine you're trying to fuck me."

As my shorts and jockeys came down and my pecker flopped around semi-hard, Margie started to laugh.

"It's just like at college you bastard! You think every gal in the world wants to fuck you," she said laughing.

I dived into the water and swam to the other side of the pool. Looking back I saw Margie naked to the waist and I admired her erect nipples on a pair of magnificent breasts. Her shorts and panties came off and kicking her thongs off she dived into the pool and swam toward me.

I got out of the pool and helped her out.

"Let's get in the hot tub," I said and we did.

I checked the temperature and it was 104° which is exactly what I like. I took Margie in my arms and kissed her warmly. The water was perfect for us.

"You're wrong," I said. "Not every gal in the world wants to fuck me. Just the beautiful ones."

"You horny bastard!" She chuckled. "I have NO IDEA why I'm doing this and my husband must NEVER find out about it."

"He won't," I replied. "But you should know that he fucks around a lot."

"You got names?" Margie asked.

"If you need 'em," I answered. "But you won't need 'em."

I fucked her on a soft pad by the hot tub and then spent the night at her place sleeping in the master bedroom. Her loving hubby called and I listened to one side of a husband wife conversation, wondering as I had done in bed with both Diane and Rachel how a wife feels telling her husband she loves him while playing with another guy's balls.

Diane was gonna enjoy hearing about Margie because Margie had stolen her lover Bob from her and she wanted nothing better than to get even by having me cuckold Bob. I was gonna be very busy taking care of the wives of Lafferty and Miller, Attorneys at Law. I lived in a damn busy neighborhood – complicated but busy.



Ladies of the Club Ch. 04



Pussy makes the world go round. When you get it you're happy. When you get a lot of it you're happier. I am happier. Three wonderful ladies have told me how wonderful I am in bed. I have reconnected to a former college girlfriend Margie, married to a friend of mine who travels on business; my regular girlfriend Diane is married to another friend of mine who also travels on business; and a third gal, Rachel the wife of a doctor, tells me I'm the only guy who can meet her "special" needs.

I got it made. Life could not be better! I keep reminding myself that this cannot last forever. For weeks I have had this haunting premonition that something bad was gonna happen. Every morning waking up I worried whether this was the day I was gonna discover that I was right!

My name is Fred Clarke and I am manager of a luxury golf club in Orlando. I'm married but recently separated. My wife, the bitch, went back to live with her rich parents in Palm Beach. I live in this exclusive gated community in a lovely home, walking distance from the club. I drive a brand new BMW convertible. I got an AmEx black card with unlimited charging and my wife's estate pays the bill every month.

This afternoon I am leaving work early to get ready for my date with Diane this evening. I'm keeping her company while her husband is consulting in Miami. I am walking briskly like a happy man should, thinking about pussy, and then suddenly it happens. My premonition was right!

As I approach my house I see a large pile of luggage on my front porch. Expensive luggage. Unfortunately, the luggage is familiar. Shit! My wife has returned. I hope for only a short visit. But that's a fuckin lot of luggage!

As I went in the front door Thelma got up to greet me. She was wearing shorts and a T-shirt and my eyes flashed over the woman I had fallen in love with -- great legs, nice ass, narrow waist, large tits, beautiful blond hair, and the worst personality in central Florida. She was a good-looking woman but the problem was that she was just like her mother. She was a bitch!

She walked up to me smiling and offered her cheek for me to kiss. I gave her a short peck, which is what she expected.

"Fredrick, mix me a drink," she ordered in her usual commanding manner that almost made me salute.

"Let's go out on the patio. We need to talk," she said.

When she said we needed to talk I figured it was bad news. Bad was not the half of it.

I went to the bar and put napkins, two glasses, a bottle of Macallan 12, and one of Glenmorangie on a tray. Then stopping off in the kitchen I got some ice and a bottle of water and carried the tray outside. I put the tray on the patio table, where my wife had settled into a chair.

"Frederick, please get a pitcher for that water. It's gauche to pour out of a plastic bottle."

It had begun! I did as she asked. Then I poured Macallan and water on the rocks for Thelma and Glenmorangie on the rocks for me.

We made a silent toast -- my silent toast being a wish for a short visit -- and then we sipped our whisky. After a few moments of contemplative silence my wife began.

"Frederick I had a long talk with Mother," she intoned. "And we have reached some important decisions. I intend to move back in with you. We are going to have a good marriage. A long marriage."

Well, I thought, that deals with my wish for a short visit. Thelma was exactly like her mother. A woman in charge! She had the voice of a commanding officer in the Marine Corps.

Thelma's mother had inherited a three-figure million-dollar fortune and the men to manage it. By now it had to be nine figures -- making the Forbe's list. Her husband served the purpose of social escort, sire of her heir, and powerless figurehead of her company. Thelma was an only child and no doubt planned to live her life just like "Mother Dear." The script for my role was already written. Her daddy was living it.

Thelma continued in her commanding voice.

"Now we need to deal with some little things first. Mother had some of her people keeping an eye on you while I was gone. There's the wives of those two lawyers and that Rachel person, the doctors wife, we have to talk about briefly. You won't be seeing them any more. All is forgiven of course. But in the future if the need arises you can accompany Daddy to Vegas for gambling and ... well ... It's so easy in our jet to get there non-stop. And Vegas is ... shall we say not so conspicuous. Here we absolutely must keep up appearances."

Oh my God! The bitch -- that is the mother bitch -- had had me followed! No fucking except in Vegas. Shit! I hate hookers. They don't have orgasms. They just go "ka-ching" like a cash register. What a deal! I can fuck whores in Vegas but at home I need to keep up appearances? Shit!

I sat there in shock but there was more to come.

"Mother said I should get something out in the open. Mother said, 'Up front.' Mother said she wasn't sure you understood what exactly would happen to you if you lost your job here at the club and had no references to find another one. And if you lost this house and payments were no longer made automatically on our American Express black card. Mother said you'd probably be eligible for some sort of welfare program, maybe unemployment, but she didn't know how much it would pay. And what else? Oh yes - Mother said I should remind you that the BMW is in my name just like this house."

If I heard one more "Mother said" I was gonna piss my pants!

"Now the next thing Mother said was that we should talk about your future job."

I looked down to be sure my pants were still dry.

"My ... my future job?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes Fredrick, your future job. We don't need the money of course but it will look much more respectable -- appearances you know - if you have a job title. Daddy is President of the company."

Shit! Daddy had a job title all right but no job! All he did was go to an office once a week and sign papers that "Mother Dear" had ordered people to write for him. It was a farce. He was a farce.

"Mother said you should come to Palm Beach two or three days a month so her people can instruct you on Daddy's job. It's only a short flight in our helicopter. Mother said Daddy will be stepping up to President Emeritus in a few years. Of course you will be acting president at first."

Shit! I would have a job as Acting Farce when Daddy became Farce Emeritus. And her mother said my alternative was welfare. I could change my name and move to California, of course, but not many other options seemed viable. My nuts were in a vice and Mother Dear had her hand on the crank.

The bitch pulled a small card out of the pocket of her shorts and looked carefully at it. Oh shit, she's got a checklist! I could see her mentally checking off the things her mother had told her to tell me.

"Mother said it's important for you to smile when we are in public and tell all your friends how happy you are that we are back together again. And in a month or two Mother will pay us a visit to be sure everything is okay."

"Now dear, please go out and bring in my luggage. I need to unpack. Then we can go to the club for a nice dinner. I haven't arranged for any help yet to cook and do things."

I worked up a sweat carrying bags. Then I sneaked a call to let Diane know what had gone wrong. Then we went to dinner at the club. I made an effort to smile. It was not easy.

It was three weeks of absolute hell before I was able to have a private talk with Diane. We sat at an inconspicuous table on the far side of the club pool where we had some privacy, sipping a couple of tall rum drinks.

I recapped my initial conversation with Thelma and as I did so Diane actually began to smile and then to chuckle. She was amused. I failed to understand why.

"The bitch has got your nuts in a vice," Diane said. "A few phone calls to the board members of this club and you're history. You'll have no job, no house, no car, no income, no references, and your credit card won't work."

"I know, I know," I said.

"Is the bitch friendly?"

"Aside from explaining to me how she could destroy my life, she's very friendly," I said. "But underneath she's just like her mother -- all business all the time."

"Do you fuck her?"

"Well," I said. "Sorta."

"Sorta? How the hell do you "sorta" fuck somebody?"

"It's kinda hard to describe," I said, thinking that this was so embarrassing I didn't want to talk about it. This had never happened to me before. Girls didn't treat me this way.

"Try," said Diane with a grin.

"Well ... ah ... you see ... she has an orgasm real fast and then she ... ah ... she ... kinda pushes me off the top of her and ... ah ... rolls over on her side and goes to sleep."

I thought Diane was gonna break up laughing. People on the other side of the pool looked over at us and stared.

"Do YOU cum?" Diane asked, still laughing.

"No," I said very softly, shaking my head.

Diane laughed again and then collecting herself she asked, "Does she fart?"

That was crazy! What the hell did farting have to do with anything?

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

Controlling her laughter, Diane said, "All across this great land tonight millions of wives will see their husbands come home from work, enjoy a fine dinner, have several drinks and go to bed. Hubby will crawl in the saddle and pound his loving wife until he ejaculates. Then he will roll off of her, turn on his side, fart, and go sound asleep leaving his loving wife frustrated and playing with her pussy like a high school girl. That's why I asked if the bitch farted before she went to sleep."

"Stop laughing. It's not funny! And she doesn't fart," I said.

"It is funny. If I could write an article about this for the Atlantic or the New Yorker, I would have women all over the country convulsed in laughter and writing to ask if the bitch farted. You're just a vibrator without a battery that she puts back in the drawer when she's finished with you."

Controlling her laughter once again Diane asked, "So what do you do laying there with a hard on?"

"Well the first time I started to masturbate," I said, remembering that ugly night.

"Did she get the hint?" Diane asked.

"She said she was trying to sleep and if I wanted to do that I should go into the bath room."

Diane doubled over in laughter and then said, "You are married to a genuine bitch."

"I know but she was so beautiful and sweet when we were dating."

"She was on a mission to get you to marry her," Diane said. "And she succeeded."

"And now there's nothing I can do about it," I said sorrowfully.

"Oh but there IS something you can do about it," Diane said. "You are the most skillful man in bed with a woman that I have ever met. If any man can do it YOU can. What you need to do is to fuck her but not bring her to orgasm. Just tease her."

"It's hard to fuck a woman and not bring her to orgasm," I said.

"Oh?" Diane said with a chuckle. "My husband did it for years."

"I don't know," I said.

"Look Fred, you just naturally feel the way a woman is responding and you give her what she needs. It's automatic. That's why you had pussy lined up outside your bedroom door. I don't know how you learned to fuck but whoever taught you was an expert. You can do this if you try. Your instinct will tell you what she needs. All you gotta do is NOT give it to her."

I instantly remembered that ugly fat girl who taught me so much my senior year in high school. Diane was right. If I could keep my head and be careful I might bring it off. Diane's husband had said that it was difficult to think and fuck at the same time but I was gonna have to do exactly that.

"So then what?" I asked.

"If you did that to me I'd do exactly what that doctor's wife does -- I'd beg. I'd beg like you can't imagine. You make Rachel beg for it don't you? How'd you like to hear Thelma beg?"

"Thelma will NEVER beg," I said emphatically.

"Fred, you'd be surprised what a horny, trembling woman thirty seconds from an orgasm would be willing to do to finally get herself off. Even a certified bitch like Thelma."

So I tried it. The first time I teased her for about ten minutes and then let her cum. The second time I teased her until I was able to ejaculate and then I quit fucking her and as she lay there I pretended to sleep. She went into the bathroom and I heard her vibrator running.

After a few more times I teased a while, then pretended to stop fucking and she whispered, "Please don't stop."

I did that a few times and I was starting to make some progress. Then I had to leave town on a planned trip to the Ocean Reef resort on Key Largo. I was checking out some club policies and procedures and this was probably the most successful resort in Florida. If you wanted a successful operation to learn from, this was it. I learned a lot in that week and when I got back Diane had some important news.

I had flown back on an early flight and was home shortly after noon. Thelma was not there but there was a note from her on the table by the door. It said, "Fred, please call Diane Miller first thing." I called her and we met at the club. 

We got a couple of tall, cool rum drinks and sat in our usual secluded table on the far side of the club pool.

"What's this big news you said you had?" I asked.

"Guess who invited me over for evening cocktails twice last week," Diane said.

"Who?"

"Thelma the bitch," Diane said triumphantly.

"What was she mad about?" I asked. "You and I haven't been together except to talk out here by the pool."

"She wasn't mad about anything. She wanted to talk."

"Talk? What the hell did she want to talk about?"

"Fucking," Diane said. "Somehow she had the idea that I was an expert on fucking."

"What did the bitch want to know," I asked.

"First of all Thelma is NOT a bitch ..."

"Stop right there," I said trying not to yell. "Thelma is a certified bitch just like her mother."

Diane shook her head no emphatically.

"She's trying to ACT like her mother but you wife is not a bitch. She's a scared little girl, pretending to be a bitch."

"Scared little girl my ass. I don't know what she said to you but she's in a position to destroy my life. She's got my nuts in a vice and she's ready to squeeze."

"Will you shut up and listen to me! Your wife and I talked to each other for hours late into the night on two occasions last week. John was out of town and I stayed overnight on Thursday. I KNOW what I'm talking about."

I shut up and listened to a story that turned my life around.

"First of all it took hours to work through everything and it didn't come out in any particular order. It was all confused and jumbled up and she cried a lot. Let me rearrange it for you so that it makes sense."

"What you did to her in bed before you left turns out to be VERY important. It was the first time she had ever asked a man for more sex. She fucked several guys in college and they were all just like my hubby John used to be, wham-bam-thank-you-mam. She talked to her mother about it and learned that ALL men were that way ALL the time. What a woman had to do, her mom said, was get off as fast as possible. Her mother said that a man is just a vibrator without batteries."

"Jesus," was all I could say.

"So I told her the story of my husband and how I was so frustrated that I looked for pleasure elsewhere. I told her about you and me. She knew we'd been fuckin but she didn't know why I needed you or what you were doing for me that my husband couldn't do. I told her how John went to you for help and you helped him and persuaded him to get counseling."

"I told her that John was improving -- giving me orgasms sometimes. Not the nuclear explosions in my pelvis that you give me but orgasms and maybe they would get better. I told her that what a woman gets from the right man is so much better than what she gets from her vibrator that it's like comparing a hand grenade to an atom bomb."

"Did she talk about me fucking her?" I asked.

"She did and then she talked about how you changed recently. Like you were losing interest in her, she said. It scared her. She asked me if I thought you didn't want to fuck her any more and she told me how difficult it was for her to ask you to fuck her longer. That's when I took a big risk."

"Big risk? What big risk did you take?" I asked.

"I told her you thought she was a bitch just like her mother and that you thought she was a lousy fuck. And I said I told you to tease her and make her want it more and she might turn out to be a much better fuck - maybe what she needed was lessons I said."

"What did she say then?" I asked.

"She was real quiet for a long time and I got worried. I was afraid I'd said too much. But finally she said that she had been fuckin you just like those guys in college had fucked her. I think she had learned an important lesson about fuckin. Fucking is a two-way street. Then she asked me to tell her about you fuckin ME."

"The details?" I asked a bit shocked. "And you told her?"

"The details! Every dirty little secret! How sometimes I lost control and just climbed on and did you thinking only of myself. How you owned my body and sometimes made me beg for it. How you ALWAYS brought me off exactly when and how you wanted to. How a woman has to give herself to a man before she can really enjoy sex. How you were the best man I had ever been in bed with."

"And then I told her she was the luckiest gal in the world and if she had any interest at all in sex she'd never let you go. You were the best guy I had ever had in bed. I said that if I had your testicles in a vice like she did I'd keep 'em there and never let you get away. And I'd fuck your brains out."

"She said she loved you and didn't want to keep you that way and so I said, 'Then you damn well better learn how to fuck!' And we talked about fuckin for hours."

"Oh and one more thing. She started out calling you Fredrick but before we finished she was calling you Fred."

Suddenly remembering, I said, "The note she left for me was addressed to Fred."

As I said that I turned and there was Thelma walking out of the club towards us. She had on shorts and T-shirt and I once again admired her figure, only this time I was thinking about fucking her tonight. If what Diane had said was true she might turn out to be a great piece of ass -- or at least good on her way to getting better.

"May I join you?" She said as she reached the table. "Welcome home Fred."

She leaned down and kissed me on the lips, then joined us and signaled a waiter.

"I hope you two have finished talking," she said. "I thought we might have dinner at the club tonight and then go to our place for after-dinner drinks. John is in Miami and there's nothing to keep Diane from visiting with us for a while. We can talk some more. I think we need to."

After these talks between Diane and Thelma my life was never gonna be the same. I had fallen in love with Thelma on her good behavior. But her mother had conditioned her to be a bitch. After we got married the bitch came out and we began having our problems. 

But maybe now we could start over again. Her attitude toward sex has to change. Maybe I can teach her how to fuck or Diane can help her learn. I helped John and now maybe Diane can help Thelma. Both John and Thelma still have a lot to learn. We didn't say it directly that night but there were several broad hints of exactly HOW they might learn.

The talks between Thelma and Diane while I was in Ocean Reef had changed everything in my relationship to my wife. That bitchy tone of voice had vanished. Our sex was improving. Thelma still had a difficult time relaxing and making love because what her mother had taught her about men had a crippling effect on her sexuality. But I had no doubt that things would get better.




Ladies of the Club Ch. 04



Things were getting better but then her mother arrived on a visit. It was a nightmare! Thelma tried to keep her from cross-examining me on a variety of things designed to tell me how she expected me to take care of her daughter. I was, of course, on my good behavior. Scared shitless!

Her mother's presence even seemed to affect Thelma's behavior in the privacy of our bedroom. Our modest progress in sexual relations came to a halt and started to reverse.

All in all, that visit was a disaster and I was very happy to help her with her things the day she was set to depart for the airport. 

The uniformed chauffeur carried the suitcases out to the limousine and we prepared to say goodbye to Thelma's mother. That limo, I remembered, had been used exactly twice. To transport the old bitch from the airport to our house four days ago and now to take her back to the airport. The limo would then be driven back to Palm Beach. The family helicopter would transport the old lady the hundred and fifty miles directly to her beachfront home. What a way to live I thought.

Thelma kissed her mother on the cheek but it was obvious that she had something else to say to her before she left. With the three of us standing in the living room Thelma began.

"Mama you need to know something before you leave. And I'm only gonna say this once," Thelma said in her dominant commanding voice. She had not used this tone in speaking to her mother during the entire visit.

I almost snapped to attention, but then kept control of myself and stood there as a silent observer. I had no idea what Thelma was gonna say. Her mother's expression became stern and she stared directly at her daughter, surprise registering on her face.

"You NEVER have to tell me something more than once," she replied, haughtily.

"In two or three years," Thelma continued, "Fred and I are going to present you with a grandchild."

Her mother's face seemed to soften a bit and she nodded.

"Please notice Mother that I said FRED and I."

Jesus, I thought. Listen to that voice! Thelma can be as much of a bitch as her mother. She had been taught well by an expert. It oozed out of her in her voice, her manner, and her gestures. Suddenly my sweet wife was a bitch!

"Fred has been patient with you in spite of the way you have spoken to him," Thelma continued.

"The way I have spoken to him? I don't think I quite understand what you mean."

"You know perfectly well what I mean," Thelma said, harshly. "He is NOT an employee. He is my husband. And I do NOT expect to hear him spoken to like that again in the future." 

Thelma paused for emphasis and then speaking slowly and distinctly with each word standing alone she said, "That is if you wish to participate in the raising of your grandchild."

The old bitch blinked. She dropped her chin a bit and examined the pattern of the carpet. Her daughter had used the equivalent of a weapon of mass destruction to make her point.

"You see Mama," Thelma said softly, almost lovingly in sharp contrast to her previous tone of voice, "I want your grandchild to see LOVE between you and the members of our family.

Wow! I thought. That old lady expected Thelma to take her place running the company and her grandchild to serve in turn after Thelma. Helping to raise that grandchild was very important to her -- perhaps important enough for her to be nice to this philandering nobody her daughter had married. If mama raised her daughter to be a powerful bitch, she must be proud of Thelma at this moment.

The old bitch turned to me and in a soft, motherly tone said, "Fredrick I'm sorry if I was somewhat abrupt in talking with you. I've had a lot on my mind lately. Business matters, you know."

"I understand. That's quite all right Mother -- may I call you Mother?"

The old bitch smiled and nodded. The smile looked so genuine. She was obviously a very astute business person, I thought, to look so sincere when I was sure she viewed me as little more than a otherwise useless inseminating device for her daughter.

We waved as the limo drove away and I turned to Thelma and said, "I'm very impressed. You can turn it on and off like there's a switch."

"Turn WHAT on and off?" Thelma asked.

"Being a bitch," I replied. "I'm never gonna take you seriously again when you're a bitch."

"You bastard! If I didn't love you so much I'd get mad at that. But I can't get mad because John and Diane are coming over for cocktails this evening and you'll learn about your big surprise."

"What surprise?" I asked.

"Diane and I have planned a surprise for you and John and I hope you will like it."

We barely had time to get the house ready for our company before John and Diane arrived. We served them drinks on our patio and then Thelma and Diane together began a discussion of their plans to celebrate John's birthday and mine. Both of us had birthdays later this month.

"We have planned a weeks vacation to celebrate your birthdays," Diane began. "Your birthdays are later this month of course but close enough. Thelma has arranged all the details. Why don't you tell them Thelma?"

"We're taking you to Mother's island in the Bahamas," Thelma said smiling triumphantly. "It's close enough to use our chopper if we refuel in Palm Beach and although the jet is quicker the chopper can take us directly to mama's island, with a brief stop at Lynden Pindling Airport in Nassau for the passport stuff."

"We'll have a week to ourselves. I've arranged for the staff to set the house up and then stay at their quarters on their side of the island where the generator is so the four of us can be alone. We can live in bathing suits the whole time."

Then she chuckled suggestively, "Or go without them if we want to. It's our private island."

Then she laughed and blushed.

I looked at John. It was hard to tell with his deep tan but I'd swear he was blushing too. Diane smiled suggestively as her eyes went back and forth from John to Thelma. The sexual tension between the four of us was palpable.

"My God," I gasped. "What the hell does something like that cost?"

"I haven't the foggiest notion, darling," Thelma said. "Our people take care of that. When you start your trips to Palm Beach to see how mama's business works maybe you can find out. Check it out carefully because you're gonna be more than just a figurehead."

Suddenly, I thought of the four of us alone for a week and I remembered that suggestive conversation we had had the night I got back from Ocean Reef -- the hints about both John and Thelma needing to learn more about sex techniques. And the references to the sexual skills that Diane and I had.

Four naked people alone for a week on a private island! What were these girls planning? I can't believe that these two girls planned this trip for the four of us to be alone so we could ... No! I ... I can't believe that!

On the other hand ... well ... you never know what women will do when it comes to sex. Shit! I thought! Diane and Thelma have two of the best bodies in central Florida -- especially when they're naked! I can show John a lot that he needs to know. Diane and I can show Thelma ... oh shit! I gotta remember to pack some high protein bars.



Ladies of the Club Ch. 05



When I married Thelma I knew her daddy was rich but I had no idea HOW rich. And actually it wasn’t her daddy. It was her momma that was rich. I also never suspected her momma was a bitch and had schooled her lovely daughter in the fine art of bitchery. Her daughter had decided she wanted me for a husband and she had caught me with an art and skill that few women possessed. Before I realized it my nuts were in a vice and she had her hand on the crank.

My name is Fred Clarke and I am manager of a luxury golf club in Orlando. I live in this exclusive gated community in a lovely home, walking distance from the club. I drive a brand new BMW convertible. I’ve got an AmEx black card with unlimited charging and my wife’s estate pays the bill every month. My wife went back to live with her rich parents in Palm Beach for a few months but decided that she would come back and make our marriage a success.

I had no choice and after a stormy first few weeks of reunited non-bliss, my wife decided that our problem was sex. She was right. In a move so unlikely that most readers would consider it happening only in badly written porn fiction, my wife invited my mistress and her neglected husband to join us in a foursome on her momma’s private island in the Bahamas.

So Thelma’s family helicopter picked us up at a small private airport outside Orlando and we were off – the four of us, me and Thelma and Diane and John. That chopper pilot was obviously afraid of my wife and even the passport people at Lynden Pindling Airport in Nassau seemed to treat her with discretion.

When we unloaded our stuff at momma’s private island the house was all set up with a weeks supply of food and booze and the staff were over on their side of the island making sure all the utilities were working to supply water and electricity. We were alone in paradise!

“Let’s get our robes on,” Thelma said. “And don’t bother with anything underneath.”

She wasn’t wasting any time, I thought, as we sat on the patio looking at a private beach and what, it seemed, was almost a private ocean. A light early supper and a couple of drinks were followed by a lot of silence.

All four of us knew what our problems were. John had an average dick but didn’t know how to use it. Diane needed an experienced lover to satisfy what, when properly treated, was a very user-friendly pussy. But John couldn’t do that job. Thelma was a bitch who had trouble being tamed as a loving wife and I, of course, was married to the bitch I couldn’t tame.

Thelma thought a week naked on a private island might get us on the road to solving our problems. So here we sat in silence waiting for something to happen. Thelma had been in charge all day and now, finally, she took control of the sex.

“Okay you two. You’re the experts. John and I are here to learn. Show us what we need to know.”

“Just like that?” Diane asked. “Just get naked and fuck?”

“Yeah just like that,” Thelma said. “You two are lovers and you been thinking about fuckin each other since we got on the chopper this morning – I’ve seen it on both your faces. We’ve had a couple of drinks. The sun in on its way down and we’re naked under these robes. That pad on the sand is soft and comfy. John and I can sit here relaxed, drinks in hand, and watch you two do it. And learn! There’s nothing to stop you.”

I looked at Diane and she looked back at me with that “Fuck me” look I’d seen so often. Thelma was right, as always. We hadn’t fucked in a long time and Diane and I were both horny. We’d never done it “in public” before but there’s always a first time.

What he hell I thought. I know exactly what both these horny broads want – one wants to fuck and one wants to watch and learn so let’s do it! Dropping my robe I lay on my back on the soft pad and started stroking my pecker.

Diane looked at Thelma and then at her husband and saw permission in their eyes. So she dropped her robe and got down beside me on the pad and grabbing my cock in her hand she took the head of it in her mouth and I felt that electric tongue sweeping around my glans, under my foreskin, and then with her tongue on the bottom of my cock she seemed to swallow the whole damn thing down her throat till her lips were buried in short curly hair.

“Jesus!” Thelma said. “I need to learn that.”

I felt myself get hard and I was too long for her to keep her lips in my pubic hair so as my dick enlarged it slipped back out of her mouth until only the head was being tickled by that electric tongue.

“I been wantin to do this for a very long time,” Diane said as she took my erect dick out of her mouth and mounted me cowboy, guiding me into a wet pussy.

Then she started pounding me in that selfish way of hers as though only HER pleasure mattered – just like the first time I fucked her. Her tits were bouncing vigorously in the air above my face and I reached up to play with them but she didn’t notice.

Her head was arched back and her eyes were glazed over as though she were enjoying a private pleasure, as indeed she was. None of her selfish efforts were directed at pleasing me. I didn’t matter at all.

“My God,” Thelma said. “Look at that horny bitch fuck! She’s fuckin for herself. She’s using him like he was a sex toy for her own enjoyment. That’s the way a real bitch fucks her man – like he was there to please HER and she has no need to please him. That’s what Mama would do! Hell! I can do that.”

“Come on Diane,” she shouted. “Use him. Have your fun with him. He’s all yours!”

I looked up at Diane and saw uncontrolled, selfish passion on her face. This was the way she fucked when she had been deprived of satisfying sex for a long time - when all she had had was John’s little peter to please her.

She couldn’t fuck John like this. A few minutes of this with John and she’d wear the poor bastard out – he’d pump his pathetic load and get soft. It took a man to let her get off like this. You had to hold it. That’s why she needed me.

She’s havin her fun. My turn will come in a minute, I thought. This bitch would get herself off and all I had to do was lay here, keep calm, and let her pound me. Suddenly I felt her pussy start to contract around my cock and her grunts changed from the dominant sound of a bitch in control to the pitiful submissive moans of a woman rendered helpless by her mounting orgasm.

It’s MY turn now I thought as her humping eased. Before her orgasm had finished I took control and violently threw her off of me onto her back.

As I rolled over on top of her I heard Thelma shout encouragement, “That’s it Fred! Show that selfish bitch who’s really in charge!”

“Spread your legs bitch it’s MY turn now,” I yelled as I mounted her and slammed my cock so deep into her body that I felt the head of my dick hit her cervix.

Diane screamed in helpless submission as I took control but almost immediately her ass started pumping to match my thrusts and she put her arms around my back and pulled me close. In that moment she lost control!

“Do me baby!” she screamed. “Do me! Make me feel it!”

“Jesus,” Thelma said. “He’s got her! She’s his! Listen to that bitch beg for it!”

Diane matched me eager thrust for eager thrust.

And then we fucked! Ignoring everything and everyone around us. We fucked like lovers lost in time and space. Eyes closed, sweating bodies glistening in the red light of the setting sun, we fucked steadily. With our bodies merged together as one body we made the humping beast of the orgy – that wild, insatiable beast with two backs.

John and Thelma could only watch in awe as their spouses enjoyed a passion neither of them had ever imagined possible. But pleasure this intense could not last forever. We worked steadily toward that ultimate, explosive climax.

Loud grunts accompanied a final frantic pounding, as two eager bodies out of control, banged together with all the force we had – grunts that were at last interrupted by a loud scream as Diane felt her contractions begin to squeeze my throbbing cock. Then I began to hump powerfully like a bull as I pumped spurt after spurt of thick, creamy jism deep into her trembling body.

When we had not a shred of energy left, we collapsed helplessly together, panting.

Diane and I lay there exhausted, chests heaving as we gasped desperately for air - two naked, sweating bodies entwined in a lovers’ embrace. Diane’s legs were no longer wrapped tightly around my waist her heels helping my ass pump harder, but were loose and spread wide, uselessly, with me collapsed in the saddle between them like a used up stud.

Thelma, her eyes frozen on the satiated lovers, leaned close to John and I heard her whisper in his ear, “My God. Can I be that good for him? Can I give him what she just did? I damn well better if I wanna keep him.”

John stared helplessly at his sated wife and I saw his sick realization that he could never give her the ecstasy he had just watched her enjoy with another man. He needed my help.

Then John pulled Thelma close and spoke softly in her ear.

“How can a man who loves his woman, I mean really loves her, deny her that pleasure? Until I can give her that, I have to let her fuck him whenever she needs to.”

Thelma looked down at us and spoke to a sweating Diane who heard nothing and could only clutch me tightly in her arms.

“Jesus Diane! I see now why you had to have him. My God if only you can help me learn to give him what you just gave him and teach me how to take it like you just did, I’ll be grateful to you for the rest of my life. Meanwhile you can have him Diane. Any time you need him, he’s yours. I can’t deny you that kind of pleasure.”

We lay there resting for several minutes and then getting up slowly we sat down silently at the table with Thelma and John and sipped a refreshing rum punch. The sexual tension seemed to lighten a bit and finally Thelma broke the spell with a joke.

“Well John, you got a week to learn to do that,” she said. “Can your pecker handle it?”

We four laughed and then she got serious.

“You were a bitch in charge at first Diane – I can do that. Being a bitch comes naturally to me. But then how do you just give yourself to him like you did?”

“Honey I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Diane said. ‘I didn’t give myself to him. He just took me! I had no choice in the matter.”

“Yes, but how … “

“You’ve never surrendered to a man before Thelma. Your momma taught you to be a controlling bitch. When you feel what he can do to you then you’ll surrender. Your body will tremble and … trust me honey … that is a really sweet surrender.”

“And then … “

“And then you’ll see Thelma,” Diane said. “He’ll take control of you too and when he does you’re your inner whore will come out.”

Diane continued, “Inside every woman is a whore Thelma, striving to get out. Fred has a way of getting your inner whore out to have her fun. Not many women can resist that once they find out what he can do to them. That’s why your loving husband had pussy standing in line back at the club.”

Thelma sat there thinking about what Diane had said. I remembered that look on John’s face and decided I needed to say something to make him feel better.

“John, the first thing we need to practice is handling your wife’s lust when she’s a bitch. You saw her. She’d pop your cork before she even got close to having her own orgasm. I got some cream that will numb your dick a little. I think it will let you get used to handling that pounding pussy long enough for her to cum.”

“But, well what I mean is … I’m not … I mean,” John stumbled trying to ask his question.

I knew immediately what was troubling him. He’d seen the size of my cock. I had to give him reassurance about that.

”And John, remember, she’s not feeling the size of your dick when she’s doin that. All she feels is her clit pounding your pubic bone. You got five inches and that’s enough equipment to do the job if we can just keep you from losing control of your plumbing. And the way to start is with a numbing cream. Later on we’ll work on what’s in your head.”

He seemed reassured but then he asked, “But what about taming the bitch in a woman?”

“We’ll work on that after we get your endurance improved. You can’t tame a bitch with a floppy dick. And remember – excuse me for saying this Thelma darling – I got a bigger bitch to tame than you do.”

There was an instant flash of anger on Thelma’s face and then she laughed, “But if what Diane told me is true the bigger the bitch the more fun the surrender.”

The four of us laughed and I felt positive for the first time. We just might bring this thing off. Maybe Thelma was gonna become a loving wife after all.

We stayed naked the rest of the week. We fucked when we felt like it. We fucked who we felt like fuckin. It got comfortable. Thelma got to be a much better fuck as I got control of her – taming a bitch is fun and hard to describe unless you’ve done it yourself. There’s something about an ugly dominant bitch that becomes very soft and loving when she finally surrenders. You have to experience it to understand what I’m talking about.

It was the experience of a lifetime. Sleepin and eatin and swimmin and drinkin and fuckin day after day. And naked from morning to night. We learned to love each other. And we got better as we became more accustomed to each other’s needs.

Our last day was exactly like the rest. We woke up, went swimming, and then fucked on the pad next to the patio – trading off as the mood struck us. We had a long way to go yet but we’d get more practice when we got home. Taming the bitch was more fun than I had ever imagined and I was proud of John who had learned to take Diane’s selfish pounding until she got off. He still had a long way to go in taming her but he was making real progress.

I saw it first cruising toward our beach.

“What the hell is that?” I shouted.

“That’s Mamma’s yacht,” Thelma yelled. “Isn’t it pretty?”

It was more than pretty. It was magnificent! I saw an officer in white giving orders to several crewmen who were lowering a launch to come ashore. My God, I thought, what the hell does it cost to live this way? The launch made its way to a small harbor several hundred yards down the beach, where three small luxury cruisers were docked. We had been too busy to make use of them, but Thelma assured me there’d be other trips.

“Quick!” Thelma yelled. “Get some clothes on or robes or something. We can’t be naked any longer.”

An officer and three crewmen joined us on the patio and the officer literally reported to my wife like he would report to a commanding officer. The transformation in Thelma was instantaneous. The bitch returned and began giving orders. Just like at our house the first day she came back. It was very comforting to know that there was a loving wife under that armored shield.

“Yes Mam,” the officer said. “The men will get your bags to your cabins and we’ll be ready for you onboard whenever you wish. I assume you and your husband will be in the starboard master suite. I’ll put your guests’ bags in the larboard suite.”

As he prepared to leave Thelma said to him, “Lieutenant, we’re gonna have another drink. You can come back for us in a half hour.”

“Yes Mam,” he said.

With that he headed into the house and began directing the seamen to handle the bags.

We sat at the patio table. I noticed that Thelma had switched from rum drinks to scotch. She poured Macallan and water on the rocks for herself and Glenmorangie on the rocks for me and looked at me lovingly as she did so. Scotch! Not rum punch! We were leaving paradise and entering the real world again.

Was it too soon to think I had a loving wife? Maybe not. What a man does to a woman in bed is a very important and all-too-often underrated factor in a marriage.

I looked at John sipping his Glenmorangie and water. He couldn’t tame Diane the way he needed to every time but frequently he met her needs and he was making progress. The nice thing from my point of view was that Thelma wanted me to fuck Diane whenever she needed it. We had formed a loving pair of couples!

The last thing Thelma said to us as we headed for the launch to take us out to the yacht was, “Remember guys, no swapping on the boat. Mother would find out about that for sure. And there’d be hell to pay!”

Looking back at the island as the launch delivered us to the yacht I told myself I would remember this week a very long time. I had a wife who loved me and we didn’t have to lie to each other any more. I was gonna do my best to keep her, even if I had to pass up an occasional pussy or two.

The Captain met us as we climbed the ladder to the deck. He actually saluted Thelma and spoke in a broad English accent. I later found out he was a retired British naval officer. He introduced his wife to our guests and me. His wife served as a hostess and directed the staff that looked after the stateroom guests.

“After dinner,” Thelma said in her formal commanding voice, “we’ll sit on the fantail and sip some scotch. My usual but we’ll need some Glenmorangie for my husband and our guests. It should be a clear night and we’ll want a good southern view of the stars.”

“Yes Mam,” the Captain said. “I’ll keep the ride smooth. You’ll be home tomorrow evening.”

A formal dinner served in the dining room, with vintage wine and uniformed servants, was followed by after dinner cordials and then we sat on the fantail under a crescent moon and bright stars and cruised slowly back home. I made tender love to my wife in the privacy of the master suite and we slept the sleep of lovers as we remembered a dream vacation. We were gonna make it! I was sure of it now.