Over the years, I have gathered a wealth of inside information regarding business transactions and deals, as well as pillow talk, or what Ken calls ‘inside-her trading’. This, together with our combined earning power, has greatly benefited us to the point that our investment portfolio is impressive. However, pillow talk works both ways. John, one of my regular clients, and I were chatting post-coital, when he mentioned a Gentleman’s Club that only allowed women in on the understanding that they paid the entry price, which was the use of their bodies by any or all the men who wanted to use them.
“That sounds fun,” I said blithely.
The reality of what I said hit me as soon as he suggested going there.
“Really! Would you like to come to the club with me and take a look? Not right now, of course. But perhaps the next time I am in town. I’d pay you extra if you would. Especially if you let them fuck you,” John stammered excitedly.
My inner slut took over, and I agreed on the condition that I could leave if there were too many men, I wouldn’t mind three or four, or if I didn’t feel safe.
The club is in Bermondsey in south London, just over Tower Bridge, and we plan to be there around nine o’clock tonight. When we arrive, John will park the car, hand me the keys, and then enter the club first. I’ll follow him ten minutes later, after locking the car. It’s the middle of the week, so it shouldn’t be too busy. If I feel overwhelmed or want to back out, I will walk out and back to the car, and John will join me a little later.
We meet in the hotel bar at eight o’clock and have a quick drink. Not something I usually do when working, however, I know that a bit of alcohol frees my inhibitions, and I might need a little freedom tonight. It certainly helps when I go dogging!
“You do look rather drab. That coat does nothing for you,” John complains worriedly after passing me my drink.
Tapping the side of my nose, I reply. “Wait and see; I don’t want to look like a common tart.”
My knee-length beige Puffa coat is one I wear in my other life. It’s sensible and boring, featuring a zip-front design with a press-studded storm flap over the zip. The zip is not done up; only the studs. What lies beneath is a black, quarter-cup bra, suspenders and stockings, and nothing else. My nipples peep cheekily over the bra. I’m also wearing very little make-up, have my hair straightened, and am wearing glasses, just as I do for my day job. I look every inch the forty-five-year-old woman I am.
It’s twenty minutes past nine when I walk into the club and look around. There are not too many men—six or seven is all I can see—and I walk up to the bar. The silence is deafening as I order a gin and tonic.
“Sorry, Madam. I think you must be in the wrong place. This is a Gentleman’s Club, and women are not allowed unless they are prepared to pay the entry fee,” the barman informs me.
“Oh, and what would that be?” I query innocently, looking around the room again.
“You have to agree to let any of the men here have the use of your body,” He answers boldly.
“You mean fuck me?” I ask in an astonished voice.
“That’s right,” he answers as he walks away.
I turn around, head to the exit, get halfway, turn back to the bar, and yank at the front of my coat. Un-popping all of the studs, shrug it off my shoulders, catch it in one hand, walk back to the bar, and sit at a stool. It’s not so silent now as I sit at the bar in just my underwear.
“Then I’m in the right place. I’ll have that drink now,” I say to the grinning barman as I place my coat on the bar.
“Let her have her drink first,” the barman shouts as two men prepare to drag me away.
“It’s on the house,” he winks as he places my drink down.
Sipping at it demurely is winding the men up, and they are getting impatient.
Putting my empty glass down and turning to the guy on my right, I’m just about to say I’m ready when he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, slapping my arse as he carries me into another room, where he flips me down onto a table.
“Time to pay your entry fee,” he cheerily declares as he pushes two fingers into my pussy, pulls them out, and waves them in the air.
“She’s wet and ready. What a slut,” he announces.
“You’d better go first, Ned. That skinny cock of yours won’t touch the sides later,” someone laughs.
He isn’t wrong, as the skinniest cock I have ever felt slips into my hole and proceeds to fuck me. The poor chap needs some help, so I squeeze my pelvic floor as hard as I can, tightening my vagina around his cock. Much to his delight, as he whoops.
“The fucking sluts squeezing my cock!”
Ned pumps hard and fast, making the best use of my tightened hole. I don’t know how long I can hold it, but I don’t have to worry as Ned shoots his warm juice into me.
“Thanks, lads. I might try again later if she can repeat that,” he sniggered.
All the while he was fucking me, others have been pawing at my body, ripping my bra off, destroying it in the process.
Spinning me about so that I am now lying width-wise across the table, my head drops over one side, and my pussy is open and exposed on the other; my legs and arms get tied to the table legs, securing me firmly in place, ready for their pleasures.
Quickly, there’s a cock in both holes, mouth, and pussy, pounding me in unison. Giving me no chance to tease with my tongue or lips, the cock in my mouth uses it like a vagina and uses me hard, his balls slapping into my nose and tickling it with his pubic hair. Being so preoccupied with the cock in my mouth that I barely notice the one in my pussy until he pulls out and unloads all over my belly. His warm juices splash and run over my skin. He is quickly replaced, and I try to feel for this cock, but the one in my mouth is too distracting.
Eventually, the cock in my mouth cums, too, half in and half out of my mouth. I swallow some and use the remainder for a facial.
A guy climbs onto the table and straddles me, sticking his cock between my breasts as two men squeeze them together, trapping him. Not that he’s complaining, as he starts pumping between my breasts. Lifting my head, I can just see his cock peeking out on each forward thrust. That is, until my head gets pulled down, and another cock finds its way into my mouth. This one is less frantic and lets me play my tongue around and along it, pleasuring him without him having to make any effort.
“Fuck you,” the guy with his cock in my mouth suddenly shouts as he pulls out of me.
Oops, the tit wanking guy has just ejaculated and covered his mate’s belly and pubes in cum. I’ve even got some on my neck!
“You could have warned me.”
He bobs down a little and rubs his pubes and belly over my face, using it to clean himself. I try to help by sticking out my tongue before he sticks his cock back into my mouth. He’s pissed off now and rams his cock down my throat, making me gag on each stroke until he shoots his load. He holds himself at the back of my throat, forcing me to swallow every drop before he pulls out.
I think the cock in my pussy has finished and been replaced, too, but I can’t be sure. However, I am confident that at least eight men have used me, and that my entry fee should be paid.
Yes, It is. My arms and legs are released, and I get sat up; a drink is handed to me, which I swallow in one gulp.
“Time for the ‘A’ team now, lads. Bring her over here,” someone shouts, and I get carried over to the other side of the room, where a lot of guys are streaming through the back door. Someone notices the surprised look on my face.
“You’ve only paid the deposit, luv; this is the balance,” he guffaws.
“Let’s clean her up a bit first,” I hear as someone shoves a Coke bottle, previously shaken, into my sodden hole. It’s cold, sticky fluid erupting inside me, flushing out my cum filled interior.
“I’ve got an idea,” a voice announces. “How about musical cunt, strap the slut over the table again, and we’ll all take turns at her cunt, two strokes each until the music stops, and whoever is inside at the time gets to finish the job.”
“Make that five strokes, and I’m in.”
A chorus of approval and amusement ensues.
“And we keep going till we’re all done.”
“I’ll do the music, seeing as I’m the only queer in tonight,” someone volunteers.
Strapped back on the table, legs up in the air, and pulled back this time, exposing my gaping maw, I wait for the music and the cocks, to start.
One, two, three, four, five. One, two, three, four, five, and repeat time after time. The music stops, and the winner takes all, enthusiastically performing as he makes the most of his prize, quickly filling me with his warm seed.
The music starts. One, two, three, four, five. One stop. Damn, that was quick. The guy now taking his turn is not. He is enjoying his turn, taking long, lazy strokes, plundering my depths, and enjoying himself. Is it fun for me? I haven’t had an orgasm, but the quantity is proving to be as much fun as I knew it would, and I can’t wait for each cock to take me.
Number two also finishes inside me, two loads of cum mixing and swirling about in my vagina.
The music continues playing, and cock after cock has its five strokes. Squashing and blending the juices in my hole, forcing them out to drip down my arse. Fuck me, this one is big. It’s stretching me as wide as I can remember, and it’s long, too, like cervix pounding long. The music stops.
“Don’t ruin her, Joe. We all want a piece, you know,” some wags laugh.
“She’ll just have to squeeze as she did for Ned,” echoes a reply, met with a chorus of laughter.
Joe does his best to ruin me, pounding against my cervix painfully, stretching me wide wonderfully. But even if he doesn’t give me an orgasm, he does fill me with cum. His balls must be the size of melons.
“Clean up time,” and another bottle of something is shoved up my pussy. Erupting and cleaning me out.
“That was a waste of good lager,” someone shouts.
“Na, it was only Bud,” is the laughed reply.
Music, five strokes, and repeat several times. Stop, pound, cum, and repeat, and yes, I do try to squeeze my walls tight, with some success.
Eventually, the music comes to an end, as does the invasion of my sex. The men released me from the table and gave me another drink, which I downed in one gulp—signalling for a refill, which I duly got. Four alcoholic drinks in one night! What am I thinking? I want more cock is the answer to that. But not before going to the loo; I’m dying for a pee and perhaps a proper clean.
Seeing John nearby, I ask him to show me to the toilets.
“You’ve been marvellous. Never in my wildest dreams have I come up with what you have done tonight,” John gushes when we are alone outside the loo.
I relieve myself by sitting and letting everything drain away, washing my face and lower regions in clean, cool water. I remove my shredded stockings and suspender belt at the same time. Drying is problematic; hand dryers are not suitable for the job!
Walking back to the bar, I noticed that most men had left.
“I see the lightweights have left; I hope you lot are up for seconds,” I announce, standing proudly naked before walking around the remaining men, squeezing the odd crotch as I go.
“I like being a cowgirl. Anyone up for being ridden?” I ask with a leer.
“Fucking slut! I’ll have some of that,” a middle-aged man leaning against the bar utters.
He walks toward me, undoing his flies on the way and letting his trousers drop to the floor as he gets to me. He pulls me close to his body and lowers us both to the ground. Straddling him, I wait while he fiddles with his briefs and releases his cock, then let him place it at my entrance. Grinning while sliding over his rampant pole. Squashing myself into his body, forcing his cock deeper into me. Then let him take over as he humps up and down, sliding his cock along my silky walls.
“Come closer, lads,” I invite and beckon over the remaining men. I point to my vacant mouth and gesture with my hands. They get the idea, and I now have a cock in each hand, one in my mouth, and one pounding my pussy. Full house!
The one in my pussy is the only one I want to cum, so I treat the others with caution. I want them to cum in there too!
A few grunts later, and a wilting cock slips out of my body.
“Who’s next?” I ask after spitting the cock out of my mouth.
Two guys quickly lay on the floor; choosing the nearest, I straddle him, take hold of his cock, and stick it in my wanton hole. Sliding over it eagerly and again, letting the cowboy do the work.
A limp, dirty cock gets thrust into my face. Ahh, my first man wants to be cleaned. No problem, and I run my tongue along and around his shrunken length. Lapping up his spent juices, all the while gently stroking two cocks with my hands.
A second load soon fills my welcoming body, most of it draining from me when I slip off my erstwhile cowboy, dripping onto his crotch.
My third victim is holding his cock skyward in preparation for my arrival; nice. I turn around and take him into me in reverse. Allowing him to watch his cock disappear inside of me. Now you see me, now you don’t! I do the work this time, moving my hips up and down to slide over his cock. Leaning forward and changing the angle, slipping my pussy to the very end of his weapon before sliding down it again. Enjoying his rampant cock sliding along my sensitive and silken inner sanctum.
Another pussy full of cum is my reward.
Straddling skinny Ned next, his cock doesn’t touch the sides of my well-used hole as I slide over him.
Lying flat along his body, glancing over my shoulder, and saying.
“Get another cock up there; there’s plenty of room,” I instruct like the whore I am.
Whoa, I have never asked for two cocks up there before! Although I have had two cocks on a few occasions.
Oh, yes. That’s better. My pussy is stretched nicely now as two cocks slip and slide over each other and push against my vaginal walls. Who cums first? I don’t know; there’s not much in it, as they both empty themselves into me.
That’s it, all finished, and I sit at the bar, naked, sipping at another drink. Luckily, I’m not driving tonight; that’s my fifth or sixth. John’s nowhere in sight. He can’t have left; I’ve got the car keys.
The barman produces my coat, and I check the pockets. The keys are there. John must be waiting at the car.
“Come back anytime,” the barman says as he helps me put my coat on and escorts me to the door.
I am in a euphoric state as I walk to the car, as is usual after a gangbang, for me anyway. Cum running down my thighs, nipples rubbing against my coat, recalling every cock that has used me tonight. Glorious!
“These lads missed the show,” John shouts when I am near enough to hear him. “What do you reckon to an encore?”
His voice breaks me out of my reverie, and the two lads come into view.
“What, they want some of this?” I asked, unzipping and flashing my coat open, exposing my nakedness. “It’ll cost you.” I tease.
“Really?” one queried incredulously.
“Of course. A generous deposit or two into my charity box would be welcome,” I confirm, lying back over the car’s bonnet, opening my legs, and pointing to the entrance to my charity box.
It’s not the first time I’ve been in this position, waiting to be fucked. It is my first time on a road in the middle of London, within sight of Tower Bridge, and underneath a street light! What a slut, I giggle to myself.
They are more than willing to make a donation and quickly make their deposits as they fuck me one after the other. Oh, another cock enters me. Looking up, I see it is John.
“Seconds then?” I ask.
“Yeah,” he grunts as he pounds into me. It’s his second time, so it takes him a while to complete the task, but he manages it in the end—if not filling me, then draining him.
“What’s going on here?” a voice queries.
“What does it look like?” John replies as he pulls his drained cock out of me.
“How much?” asks the voice.
“Twenty quid a pop,” John answers.
“Fuck, that’s cheap. We’ll have some of that,” and looking up, I see several men ogling me.
“She’s been well used if that bothers you,” John informs him.
“She’ll be used some more now,” the voice replies as he struggles to push his semi-limp cock into my sodden pussy. It’s just as well my pussy is wet and gaping open!
“Fuck, you weren’t wrong. How many cocks has the slut had up there tonight?”
“I’ve seen her take six in a row over in the churchyard,” John lies easily. “Then she walked up to me here.”
“Fucking whore slut,” the voice stammers in surprise.
“Yep.”
True to his word, once his cock had risen to the occasion, he soon emptied his balls inside me, pulled out, and was quickly replaced by another eager client. I simply lie back and earn my wages like a proper street whore. Not for long, though, as I get pulled off the bonnet, spun around, and my coat is removed before being pushed face down onto the bonnet, and a cock takes me from behind. As do several more in quick succession.
John pulls me up, slips my coat around me, and ushers me into the car when everyone has gone. It’s only now that my body responds to the cold, and I start shivering violently. John turns the heating right up, and we drive back to the hotel in silence, apart from my chattering teeth.
When we return to John’s room, he pushes me into the bathroom. Thirty minutes later, a clean, warm, but naked me walks into the lounge.
“How many men used me tonight, then?” I ask John.
“In the club, seventeen guys fucked you; five used your mouth, and one tit-wank. You were fucked twenty-one times, as some of them had you twice. Then, of course, you came out and asked for seconds; that was another five. ” The two guys outside the club, me, and of course, the paying clients.” John throws some cash into my lap; “There’s a hundred quid there from your street clients.” I make that a total of thirty-four,” John droned out confidently. “So I owe you two hundred and sixty pounds, as agreed, ten pounds each cock that fucked you. I’m not paying for the times I had you, and the last five paid for themselves. I never expected so many men there,” he continued with little concern.
“Would you like to go back again sometime? Perhaps give them some warning and get more men in?” John asks.
“In where?” I jokingly reply and make no further comment.
