When Gemma and I started working at the strip club, we thought it was just a hoot. We talked together about our antics, bursting into fits of laughter like some giddy teenagers. We were convinced that our time there would be very short because we were total amateurs and had our studies to complete. We could not guarantee to appear each Friday night as the owner, Brian, soon tried to persuade us to do.
As a result, our appearances were slightly sporadic, but we found them great fun, and Brian accepted that our University courses prioritised our striptease acts.
It was very early in our time working at the club that Brian almost casually suggested we might make much more money by entertaining some of the clientele privately. As twenty-one-year-old students, we thought he meant being invited to perform at private functions. Although such requests were forthcoming, Brian inferred that we could be paid to perform sex acts in one of the club’s private rooms after our performances.
The suggestion was yet another cause for Gemma and me to fall about in fits of mirth. The whole thing sounded ludicrous.
After the fourth stripping session, Brian approached us again to tell us that several guys were asking if we would be prepared to offer our services in exchange for payment. Again, we laughed, but Brian was deadly serious.
‘It’s entirely your decision, but you could earn double or triple what I pay you if you wanted to,’ he gushed.
Gemma and I discussed the proposition during the next fortnight, usually in hysterics; however, we were more than a little interested in the idea.
‘It’s alright for you, Rach,’ Gemma commented one day, ‘You’ve already had lots of experience, but I’ve only had two boyfriends. I’d never know where to start.’
‘This will be your chance to catch up with me then,’ I laughed. I knew that Gemma possessed two unique attributes that were very much lacking on my own chest. I was convinced the men would be queuing at her door while I sat in my room, brooding and twiddling my fingers.
Finally, after much discussion and laughter, we agreed that it would be fun to give it a go on one occasion to see what happened. I nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Having informed Brian of our decision before our next appearance, he agreed to make a little announcement before we took to the stage.
As we danced, cavorted and stripped that night, there seemed to be an extra buzz about the place. Gemma had performed her act first, and I was sure she would bag the lion’s share of any would-be studs available.
After our performances, Brian told us, much to our surprise, that the men were queuing to meet us. Again, we laughed at such a thought.
‘I’ll choose two for each of you,’ Brian responded,’ I’ll make sure I know them and that you will be safe and enjoy their company and…’ he paused, winked and added, ‘cocks.’
Before we had an opportunity to reply, he was off.
‘I guess we had better go to our rooms,’ Gemma suggested. ‘Are you nervous?’
‘Yes, very,’ I replied, forcing a little laugh.
‘What about you?’
‘I think I’m about to wet myself,’ Gemma replied, pulling a face.
Once inside my room, I sat nervously on the side of the bed, contemplating what I was about to do. Gemma and I had learnt a lot in the two months since we had accidentally joined the club. Stripping naked before fifty to a hundred people was one thing, but getting intimate with total strangers who were prepared to pay for the privilege was another.
My mouth was dry, and my heart was racing as I heard the knock on the door. My first client had arrived. As I got up to open the door, I wondered what sort of a man was standing waiting at the other side. I hoped he would not be old, short and fat.
When I opened the door, I was stunned to see a handsome-looking man, around thirty, smiling sheepishly back at me.
‘Hello,’ I croaked through my parched throat.
‘Hello,’ he replied, giving me a nervous smile.
We stood looking at each other momentarily before I invited him into the room and closed the door.
To my great delight, it was evident that he was as embarrassed as I was about what we were both about to do.
‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ I explained to break the awkward silence, ‘I have never done this before.’
He breathed deeply, smiled and replied, ‘That’s such a relief. Neither have I. I’m Colin.’
With the introductions over and both of us feeling much more comfortable, I ventured towards him and asked, ‘Is there anything I can do for you tonight, Colin?’ It was a well-rehearsed line that I had been practising all week since deciding to chance my arm at making a little more money.
‘I’d love to fuck that pussy of yours,’ Colin replied, obviously feeling more confident. I’ve already paid the man seventy-five pounds.’
‘Seventy-five pounds?’ I retorted in such surprise that Colin backed away and looked disappointed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he replied, ‘It was what he asked for and all I could afford. If it’s not enough, I could pay you more when I receive my salary at the end of the month.’
‘Not enough,’ I repeated, ‘It seems way too much to me. You should ask for a refund,’ I laughed, ‘I’m sure you will think you deserve one after we have finished!’
Once again, I approached Colin and, lifting his hands to the buttons on my dress, motioned to undo them.
Wearing the dress was Barry’s wife’s idea. She initially taught me the correct type of clothing to wear when I performed my striptease act. On my first attempt, I had made a complete fool of myself by wearing tight jeans that were not easy to remove. After that debacle, I discovered that loose-fitting dresses, skirts and tops were the order of the day when performing at the club.
When Barry’s wife had heard that Gemma and I might be ‘entertaining’ clients, she had helpfully told us, ‘Wear just a long zipped or button dress and nothing else. Make sure it’s easy to remove. Let the guys undress you. It will arouse them and allow you a little time to feel what sort of men they are.
It was good, helpful advice. However, I did wonder though if she had insider information.
Colin tenderly undid the buttons on my dress and, slipping it off my arms, commenced to fondle my breasts before sucking on them hard. I guided one of his hands between my legs to allow him to stimulate that most sensitive and arousing area.
I could feel that his attention was working as moisture between my legs started to flow. For a minute, Colin stopped paying me attention so that he, too, could undress.
As soon as he was ready, he guided me onto the bed, where I lay down and opened my legs.
He was on me in a flash, and after a quick repositioning of his manhood, he slipped it deep inside my waiting pussy. It seemed no time after he commenced to thrust that his body became taught as he pushed in deeper and groaned with ecstatic pleasure.
I was a little shocked at this sudden conclusion to our intimate time. I had thought I might have enjoyed an orgasm myself at his hands, but he never gave me a chance.
‘Wow!’ I commented, ‘You came quick.’
‘I couldn’t control it. You’re so damned sexy!’
‘Thank you,’ I replied, a little embarrassed, ‘Would you like me to play with your cock and balls and then give you a blow job.’
‘Do you think I’m made of money?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Your friend, who took my payment, told me it was seventy-five pounds per act. I told you I couldn’t afford anything more.’
‘He told you that?’ I questioned in total disbelief.
‘Yes. If I wanted a BJ and a pussy fuck, it would be one hundred and fifty pounds. I guess if I wanted to do your arse too, you’d want another seventy-five quid?’
‘I’m sorry,’ I replied, ‘Barry never discussed any rates with me. I had no idea what he wanted to charge. Lay here, and I’ll play with your balls at no extra cost.’
‘What about time?’
‘What do you mean?’ He said I had to be quick about it because of time.
‘Who Barry?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll speak to him later,’ I commented as I got to work on his balls and cock until he was again rock hard, and I commenced a long blow job on him.
Just as I got going, there was a rap on the door. I stopped and shouted, ‘Whose’s there?’
‘Barry. Hasn’t he fucked you yet?’
‘Yes, but I’ve just started giving him a blow job?’
‘He only paid for a pussy fuck.’
‘He told me. This one is on the house.’
‘Oh, for crying out loud. You can’t do that; there’s someone else waiting.’
‘Tell them I’ll be as quick as I can. I’ll be even quicker if you skedaddle!’
I got back to my work, and once again, with apparent delight, Colin fired his load in my direction.
As he dressed, Colin was very appreciative. ‘Can we do this again, Rachel?’
‘Yes, of course.’ I replied, ‘I just need to get Barry to sort the pricing out.’
The door rattled again once Colin had left, and I had been given five minutes to clean myself up.
Nervously, I opened it to find a reasonably attractive middle-aged man with a full head of slightly greying hair.
‘Hello,’ he offered, ‘I’m told you’re new to this?’
‘Yes indeed. You’re only my second visitor.’
‘Client,’ he corrected as he stepped into the room.
‘You’re a gorgeous young woman. I have watched you here twice. When it was announced that you were open to offers, I just had to try my luck.’
‘Thanks,’ I said, smiling.
‘I want to fuck your arse. Is that allowed?’
‘I guess so,’ I responded, ‘as long as you have paid?’
‘Yes, yes, I have. I could not believe how cheap you were. I mean seventy-five quid is nothing to use someone like you?’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘No. Not for class like you. I’d have paid double that to fuck you.’
‘Oh.’
I knelt on the bed and hitched up the skirt on the dress to allow him access to the part he wanted. I pointed to the lubricating jelly on a shelf along the wall of the room.
He took the tube and seemed to greatly enjoy lubricating my bum hole liberally, pushing plenty of jelly deep into my anus.
Suddenly he thrust in with his cock causing me to gasp in shock and let out a little scream of surprise and pain.
He pounded away before stopping and asking if he could slap my bum. He added smacks of various degrees to his ever-increasing thrusts when I replied positively. Eventually, I felt his body stiffen against my arse as he pushed up and fired his load deep inside my bum while letting out a groan of pleasure.
After thanking me profusely and, as with Colin, asking if he could visit again, he left.
The door rattled as I was wiping my backside, and Barry called out.
‘All well, Rachel?’
‘Yes, thanks. You can come in if you wish.’
‘I’ll just check on Gemma.’
A few minutes later, he was back with Gemma at his side. ‘Good work, you two. Fantastic. Those guys were so impressed,’ he gushed, handing each of us a small wad of notes.
As I come from Scotland, we tend to be a little, we say ‘canny’ about money, so I quickly checked the amount.
‘There’s one hundred and fifty pounds here.’ I exclaimed in surprise.
‘That’s right,’ Brian replied, ‘Seventy-five from each guy.’
‘What about your cut?’ I asked suspiciously.
‘Don’t be daft lass,’ he replied, trying to mimic my accent, ‘You earned it, you keep it.’
‘So what do you get out of this?’ Gemma enquired, entering the conversation for the first time.
‘Footfall,’ Brain responded, ‘People coming in, paying, buying meals, telling others. It all brings trade through the door. You may be only twenty-one, but you have great character and great bodies. Already, I have folks phoning to book the nights you are performing.’
‘Really?’ I asked.
‘Yes. Absolutely. You’re both quite a hit. Best decision I ever made to hire you two. Now, how did you cope tonight?’
‘I thought seventy-five pounds was a bit steep for what would have been only ten minutes with me. You can’t fleece your customers, you know,’ I replied, smiling.
‘I was amazed anyone would pay that to fuck my pussy,’ Gemma added. I expected about twenty-five per err…’ Her voice trailed away as she tried to find the right words.
‘Client?’ Brian added helpfully.
‘How long do you think those wanting to meet us would be prepared to wait?’ I asked.
‘An hour at the most.’
‘Then why not pre-book?’ Gemma said.
‘How’d you mean?’
Other performers appear after us. Why not allow guys to meet us while the show is still active? Therefore we don’t have to wait until the show’s over. The men can have a time set to come and meet us. That way, there will be no waiting for them. They turn up at the appointed time.’
‘Come and meet us?’ I laughed, ‘Don’t you mean to come and fuck us, Gemma?’
‘Yes. That as well.’ Gemma retorted, still thinking about her brain box of an idea.
‘Okay,’ Brian replied thoughtfully, ‘I agree in principle but will have to check with the wife. How many can you handle a night?’
‘Four.’ I replied, ‘But fifty pounds for half an hour. I may be Scottish, but I’m not happy to fleece the guys.’
Gemma agreed, and we left Brian to get the idea past his wife.
Over the next three months, whenever Gemma and I agreed to perform a night at Brian’s club, we were never short of men desiring our services in one way or another. The two hours after our little performance seemed to fly by as we sucked, fucked and bucked with the guys paying to have access to our bodies.
About two months after commencing our ‘extra’ duties, Brian approached me, asking about my bondage and punishment fetish.
I was still relatively inexperienced at the time, but I explained, as best I could, what I enjoyed about it most and what aspects turned me on.
‘How about some paid bondage sessions?’ Brian suggested, ‘In the bondage room?’
‘Great,’ I enthused, ‘That’s right up my street.’
‘I thought it might be right up somewhere else,’ Brian quipped. ‘What about Gemma? Would she be interested?’
‘I’ll ask her, but I don’t think she is so interested in whips, chains, and ropes,’ I explained.
It turned out that I was correct. Gemma was happy enough entertaining her clients in her room one at a time. Meanwhile, ever looking for more exciting adventures, I was thrilled with the idea of getting paid to entertain in a way I truly enjoyed. I looked forward to whatever may be in store.
Gemma and I agreed that she could take the more vanilla-type individuals while I would take those wishing to try something a little more binding.
The announcement the following Friday was changed slightly to accommodate the new arrangements. I was somewhat taken aback when Brian told me that twelve guys wanted to use my services in the bondage room.
I call it a bondage room, but it was very crude and basic, almost as though the room was chosen as an afterthought to everything else at the club. It was large enough, about twenty-five feet square, with a big solid wooden table occupying the middle. Into this had been screwed some large hooks at various strategic places. On one wall was a wooden frame that I discovered later used to be a climbing wall at a local school. Along another wall was a series of coat hooks that hung the usual BDSM equipment of cuffs, whips, crops, paddles, canes and ropes.
I knew that there would be enough in the room to occupy anyone with me for half an hour.
The first night I entered it, Brian informed me that he had managed to get the twelve guys to agree to visit in four groups of three with a bit of persuasion and a small discount. I had no idea how this would pan out.
I decided to wear a very short black dress with puffy sleeves that came to my elbow. To me, it struck the right balance between sex and bondage.
When the knock came, I opened the door, and Brian ushered in the three men. As we had previously agreed, he handed me a piece of paper upon which was written what each of the men wanted to do.
I read it out loud.
1) Whip her back
2) Barehanded spanking
3) Flogging
I was relieved as I was pretty sure I could cope with these requests.
‘You have ten minutes each, but I suggest we divide everything so you all get two five-minute sessions with me.’
The three men, who ranged from about twenty-five to forty, seemed happy with that arrangement, and each helped the other put me in a position for what they required.
Brian had already agreed that each man playing with me would be told my ‘safe’ word. It was nothing inventive, just a simple ‘Stop.’ I am pleased to say that in nearly twenty years of BDSM practice, on only two occasions has anyone ignored my safe words!
The first was in this club, and the second was at an arranged Gangbang and Bondage session some ten years later. Both times, others came to the rescue and plucked the damsel in distress from the over-enthusiastic attentions of those who did not seem to appreciate the efforts I was making to give them a good time.
Thankfully, the whips Brian had obtained were pretty loud on noise but soft on pain, so even inexperienced hands did not cause me any lasting damage. The barehanded spanking was the most painful.
After the first night, we realised that for the BDSM sessions to work, those involved needed to be placed in groups of two, with the least taxing requests taking first place.
Some men just wanted to have sex with a woman who was tied up; others wanted to play in some way with my tits. This included whipping, pegging, slapping and sucking them while I was bound and helpless. Others had fantasies about inserting objects into my pussy while I was unable to stop them. I was happy to try everything that was requested during my time working there.
Gemma and I were both amazed at just how much some men were willing to pay to either have sex with us or, in my case, do some fairly basic BDSM on me. I think we could easily have kept to Brian’s original seventy-five pounds a session without too many complaints.
Brian did, however, put the price up for those over fifty who were desirous to make use of our sexual services. He explained to Gemma and me that most guys should be financially stable when they reach fifty so they can pay a premium rate for a premier service.
To the men he asked to pay the extra rate, Brian explained it slightly differently. I heard him on one occasion.
‘You’re fifty-five. That is thirty-four years older than these two lovely young women. How would you like to fuck an eighty-nine-year-old woman? Get my drift? You have to pay for the privilege that two young ladies like this are prepared to allow you to make love to them.’
I smiled when I heard this explanation, but I could see sense in his argument.
Brian’s wife kindly showed us how to keep accounts in case we needed to file tax returns for the income we made. Thankfully we never reached the tax threshold; otherwise, we would have had to state our occupation; Working Whores, Practicing Prostitutes, Female Fuckers, and Stripping Sluts were all possible job titles!
Not only did we have the opportunity to earn a little extra after each show, but we were also regularly approached to participate in other events away from the club. Gemma was always much more cautious about these offers, whereas if I was free and the arrangement excited me in some way, I’d be more willing to attend.
There was no doubt that I could easily have left my course and gone into full-time sex work with abandon. The opportunities it seemed for an attractive young woman with a happy, outgoing personality were endless. During these sessions, we, of course, met many different people with sometimes interesting personalities.
Gemma and I made up nicknames for some.
Mr Nasty
He came to visit me twice. He was in his late thirties and, although attractive and fit, looking for his age, was incredibly demanding and arrogant. I cannot remember seeing him smile, but I remember the first time I opened the door to him.
Â
‘I’ve paid good money to fuck you, so you better be worth it.’
‘Thank you. I’ll do my best to please you if I can.’
‘Why are you wearing clothes? I wanted you naked?’
I thought, ‘Oh Boy,’ as I quickly removed my dress under his watchful and unflinching stare.
‘Get on the bed slut.’
‘Would you like me to undo your trousers?’
‘No, I fucking wouldn’t. I am old enough to do that myself. I just want you to lay on the bed and open your whore cunt so I can get my money’s worth.’
I sighed as I obeyed. I tried to enjoy my little job of selling my body for cash. I attempted to make every experience fun for those paying. I sensed, though, that I was on a looser with this guy from the start.
‘I hope you cleaned yourself out before I came in. I don’t want to catch anything from anyone else who has fucked you tonight.’
‘Yes Sir, I clean between each customer. Do you mind if I ask your name?’
‘Yes, I do. If I’d wanted you to know it, I would have told you. I just want you to open your fucking legs.’
Again, I sighed and complied as he fell on top of me and pushed his manhood into my prone body.
‘You’re dry as the Sahara Desert down there bitch,’ he commented as he sought to push further in. ‘Don’t you enjoy this work? Don’t you want my cock to send you into ecstasy like every other woman I fuck?
I decided not to respond. If he’d been more pleasant on arrival and given me time to ‘enjoy’ his company before trying to shag me, I knew I’d have been much damper and may even have given him the thrill of an orgasm. I lay back, said nothing and let him do his stuff.
He pulled out to fire his load over my tummy and pussy hair. ‘Don’t want it mixed with anyone else’s. Mine’s too precious.’
As soon as he was done, he pulled up his chinos and, without even saying a thank you, left. I breathed a deep sigh of relief as he closed the door. Then suddenly, it opened again. ‘You’re a useless fucker.’ He stated as he stuck his head around the door. ‘The professional prostitutes in town are much better than you. I suggest you spend a night with them to see how they do it. You might learn something. That wasn’t worth even half what I paid.’
The door closed, and for a second time, I breathed out in relief. ‘Some men!’ I said under my breath.
Brian kept a list of good and bad clients based on reports from Gemma and me, plus, of course, his other more professional staff. However, a few weeks later, I was stupid enough to agree to see the man again despite Brian’s warning and against my better judgment.
I must have thought I had enough feminine charms to break his attitude down into something more compassionate and loving. They say being forewarned is to be forearmed, so when the knock on the door came on the second occasion, I answered it naked.
‘Hello again,’ I cooed with all the coyness and sexiness I could muster.
‘Still titless, I see?’ was his curt response.
I knew from then that I would not win whatever I tried. I knew too that Mr Nasty would most certainly enter Brian’s little book — on the banned pages!
Mr Roses
This older man was in his sixties and was just the perfect gentleman–the total opposite of Mr Nasty.
The first time he came into the room, he apologised for his age and the fact that he wanted to have sex with someone as young as me. We sat on the bed for the whole half hour as he poured out his life story to me. Evidently, he was lonely and, more than anything, just needed someone to chat to, having lost two wives, both in sad circumstances.
When the half-hour was up, I gave him a big kiss and a cuddle after undoing my dress to make it more exciting for him. I was at a loss as to what to do. He had paid for sex, but the only thing that had happened was he had talked, and I had listened. I did not want to charge him for something I had not done.
As he left, he reached onto the floor outside the door and handed me a large bouquet of roses. The act and the man who performed it were so sweet. As I thanked him, I suddenly had an idea.
‘Let me have your number, and I’ll send you a text. If you ever want to chat, you can call me.’ Of course, it never occurred to me that he might not have a mobile phone! He did, however, leave his home number.
On Monday, I gave him a call that resulted in us meeting for coffee after lectures later that day.
Afterwards, he invited me back to his place, and once there, I felt I should take the initiative.
‘On Friday night, you paid me for sex that we never had,’ I explained, ‘Would you like me to strip naked for you now?’
The dear man could hardly believe what I was offering. He put some classical music on his Hi-Fi, which was not the easiest to dance to, but I managed. Once I was naked, I unzipped him and, after playing with his balls, gave him a blow job that I hoped he would enjoy. I was surprised when he said he was going to cum and he was just as surprised when I told him to aim for my face.
After wiping away the results of his erection, I stood up to hug him; he had tears in his eyes.
The next day at University, I was called into the foyer and presented with another big bouquet of roses!
Mr Mystery
This man was of Asian descent. He was incredibly striking, and I had spotted him on a few occasions when I was performing. Gemma had seen him, too. He was immensely good-looking and smiled a lot as I moved between the tables, trying to ensure anyone who wanted to get an eyeful of pussy and bum.
Gemma told me she’d love to be laid by him as he looked super hot and, therefore, she thought, would be supercharged in bed.
On one occasion, I was waiting in the bondage room when the knocking on the door informed me that the last client of the night had arrived. As I swung the door open, I was stunned to see the man standing before me.
‘Hello,’ he smiled, ‘I’ve watched you a lot.’
‘I know,’ I replied a little breathlessly, ‘I’ve seen you.’
‘Can I come in?’
‘Oh, err yes, sorry?’ I was acting like some teenage fan who had come face to face with their film idol.
‘May I call you Rachel?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘Rachel, you’re very sexy. So sexy, I want to fuck you, but not tonight.’
‘Oh!’ I managed in a disappointed manner.
‘Tonight, I whip you for being such a bad girl.’
‘Thank you,’ I smiled.
‘I have my own restraints,’ he explained, producing some silk handkerchiefs from a pocket and flicking them open much like a magician. ‘I bind you with these.’
With my hands bound above my head to the wooden frame facing the wall and my legs spread apart, I was ready to be whipped.
‘You’re obviously into BDSM?’ I stated just as he was going to commence.
‘That’s a mystery,’ he replied before unleashing his first blow between my shoulder blades.
‘Do you have a girlfriend?’
‘That’s a mystery?’ he answered as the whip struck across my bum.
No matter what I asked, his responses were the same, ‘It’s a mystery.’
Later that night, as Gemma and I drove back to our accommodation, I told her about my encounter. We had a bit of fun rivalry between us over who had entertained whom and in what way. I was pretty chuffed that it was me who had been the attraction to the guy Gemma considered super hot.
As I cheekily told her of my encounter, she remained impassive. I warbled on about his silk handkerchiefs and how he had whipped me. Last of all, I told her how he had wanted to whip my back and replied to all my questions with the same phrase, ‘It’s a mystery.’
‘Did you get laid by him?’ Gemma queried.
‘Do you mean did we have sex?’
‘Yes.’
‘No, we didn’t. He just wanted to perform some basic BDSM on me. Why did you ask?’
‘Because he came and fucked me first,’ Gemma replied, ‘And he is super hot too.’
‘You’re having me on, Gemma,’ I responded, laughing at her joke.
‘No. I’m serious. He paid to fuck me and then paid to whip you. I think I got the better deal, don’t you?’ She giggled.
‘Seriously?’
‘Yes. But don’t worry. Everything was a mystery to me, too. I never even got to know his name. I got his cock, though, which was the best bit. He can certainly shag a woman.’
After the disappointment of my oneupmanship (or should that be oneupwomanship) on Gemma passed, we both laughed at his strange mystique.
Mr Mystery visited us on numerous occasions, each with the same mysterious persona and every time, paying for a double session with Gemma and me. It took a while, but eventually, I was able, with some persuasion, to get his cock into my cunt.
Gemma was right — He certainly was ‘Super Hot!’
Laurel and Hardy
These two gentlemen reminded me so much of my childhood watching the black-and-white antics of those two masters of slapstick comedy.
The two men were in their late forties. One was well set, the other skinny. They appeared to be the best of friends, always together. Either Gemma or I would see them about every six weeks as they would visit us alternately. They were never really into BDSM, apart from spanking my bum. Each time I saw them, it was to make up a threesome.
It wasn’t just their stature that reminded me of the 1930s characters. They were between them actually rather clumsy, and they went and did their own thing while their wives did theirs!
The first time I met them, I was wearing a V-necked red dress that came to just above my knee. It was a little puffy and quite flouncy. Brian’s wife had commented that night on how sexy it looked on me. To remove it, you had to unzip it at the back.
Laurel (The small one) went to unzip the dress so that Hardy (the larger one) could pull it down to expose my breasts. Laurel commenced pulling the zip. However, it stuck. He couldn’t get it up or down. Hardy chastised him and went to assist.
The two tugged and pulled until I suggested lifting the dress off over my head to allow proceedings to commence properly. Once I was naked, they set to with gusto on my arse and pussy. They always paid to use two holes!
It must have been six months later that I was again entertaining them in my room. I was on my knees offering a blow job to Laurel while Hardy took me hard up my back passage. As Hardy pounded me roughly, there was a loud crack that stopped proceedings. We all looked at each other with puzzled faces. As nothing happened, we continued until one of the bed’s legs gave way with another crack.
I had Laurel’s rigid shaft firmly in my mouth, and it was a mercy I did not bite him as I sought to stay on the bed. We all fell about laughing at the calamity that resulted in Brian purchasing a new and much more comfortable bed for my next session.
On another occasion, I was out doing some shopping when I spotted the two men walking towards me in the distance. Leading the way about five meters ahead were two women in deep conversation. I guessed these were their wives.
As we came closer, the two Gentlemen waved at me and smiled, greeting me with a cheery, ‘Hello Rachel.’
I reciprocated with a ‘Hello, Gentlemen’ and a smile of my own.
As Laurel looked at me, he walked straight into a trolley pulled by a little old lady. The trolley and Laurel went sprawling to the ground. I wanted to burst out laughing but managed to contain myself as I went to help pick up the contents of the trolly while Hardy helped his apologetic friend to his feet. Thankfully, the old lady was none the worse for wear despite her near miss.
While all this was taking place, their wives continued walking down the street, oblivious to the chaos that had taken place behind their backs.
When I got back to the car, I laughed uproariously at what I had witnessed. You could not have made it up.
The next time they visited looking for a sexual encounter, I reminded them of the incident.
‘You always did have too much of an eye for a pretty girl,’ Hardy told Laurel.
‘That’s rich,’ Laurel replied. Turning to me, he explained, ‘A couple of years ago, he saw a pretty female police officer and walked straight into a glass window while looking at her! The dear lady officer came to his aid and helped him, having heard the ‘bang.’ It made his day despite a bleeding nose.
Maxamillion
He wasn’t called Max, but he must certainly have been worth a million or even two. Over time, he came to know the nickname we had given him, and he liked us to use it when we were with him. Max is what we always called him from then on.
He first approached Brian, asking if Gemma and I would be willing to visit his house for sex. Brian knew him well through various business interests and was happy that we would be safe if we went.
One Saturday, I drove Gemma to the address we had been given. It was in the area of the city nicknamed ‘Millionaires Mansions’ by the locals. I had never driven through it previously, but I could see where this name originated. The houses were all large with long sweeping driveways.
We found the address and pressed the button on the keypad at the gate. After explaining who we were over the intercom, the gates swung open to allow us in. As I parked my little car, I thought it looked somewhat out of place in such grand surroundings.
I was expecting a butler to open the door and show us in, so I was surprised to see Maxamillion himself. He had been to a few of our performances, so we knew him immediately. I expected a rather pompous, self-opinionated type of guy; however, he was pretty ordinary and considerate. He lived alone. We never knew what had happened to his wife, and we never asked.
However, he did enjoy his sex, especially having the company of two attractive young students who gave him unfettered access to their bodies. He seemed to have unlimited libido as he took first Gemma and then me time and again.
He enjoyed us rimming him best of all. Maxamillion had us swap places to keep performing this one act on him. He was not unattractive, was always clean, and the bedroom we played in was like something from a Hollywood movie. We always enjoyed our time with him.
He was generous, too. On each visit, he always gave us more than we had agreed. We tried, though, never to feel we were taking advantage. If a session overran by thirty minutes, it never bothered us. Max always took the extra time into account.
On several occasions, he took us shopping. Gemma and I could never work out if it were because he enjoyed being seen with two hot young females in tow or because he loved to please us by purchasing us clothes that a typical student could never afford.
As we walked back to the car after a shopping session, I saw what I considered a fabulous dress in a shop window.
‘That would be great to wear when we do our striptease act,’ I suggested cheekily to Gemma. She agreed. We went into the shop with Max and, having looked around, saw several outfits that would have worked well in our show. Unfortunately, the price was even more extravagant than the dresses. We left still happy with the fruit of Max’s generosity in our bags.
The following Friday, when we went to dress for our part in the club, we found two dress bags with our names in the changing room. When we opened them, we discovered the dress from the window for me and another Gemma had looked at when in the shop. We were mortified. Never in our wildest dreams did we expect Max to purchase them for us.
When I walked out in the new outfit, Max was sitting at a table with some friends. He looked up at me and gave me a smile and a wink. Gemma and I ensured that his table received special attention that night!
The highlight of these shopping trips, for me at least, was travelling in his Range Rover. It was a car that had everything, including a TV! Max even let Gemma and I drive it, which was so cool. I’m sure that many a person watching us park his expensive car looked on and thought, ‘Spoilt brats!’
Before one visit, Brian took us aside. ‘Your millionaire friend wants to try BDSM on you.’ Gemma’s face froze. She was not keen on bondage. ‘It’s alright, Gemma. He wants you to perform it on Rachel.’
Gemma’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh! That’s great. I’ll enjoy giving you a good thrashing,’ she teased. ‘You can beg me for each stroke I give you and kiss my toes to thank me when it’s all over!’
We all laughed at her joke. We had no idea at the time just how true to life her anecdote would be.
Maxamillion did indeed want me to beg to be whipped, and he wanted Gemma to be a very strict disciplinarian.
To be fair to him, he had purchased all the equipment we could ever require. He watched intimately as Gemma used velcro cuffs to secure me to the bed, face down, bum and back exposed.
‘Now use this,’ he said, passing Gemma a long, thick leather whip.
I could see that now everything was ready, Gemma was uneasy.
‘Please whip me,’ I pleaded, looking at Maxamillions trousers for signs that our actions had the desired effect.
Gemma flicked the whip at me, and it landed rather tamely on my back.
‘Harder!’ he ordered.
‘Yes, Gemma,’ I added, ‘I need a good hard flogging.’
Gemma tried again but was greatly afraid of really hurting me.
‘Would you like to whip me, sir?’ I pleaded, looking at Max.
‘No! I want Gemma to whip you and you to whine,’ he said, smiling a little sadistically.
‘Please, Gemma. I need whipping. I’ve been a very naughty girl.’
Again, Gemma tried, but bless her, BDSM just was not her thing. Then, a shaft of inspiration flashed into my head.
‘Gemma, I need to confess this to you. Roger, your boyfriend, has been fucking me for the last month.’
Gemma laughed, ‘You know I can’t do this, Rachel. It’s just not me. I’m sorry. I love sex but not giving or receiving pain. Even you trying to provoke me won’t work.’
‘Roger has the cutest little mole up his bum, and I love rubbing my tongue on his crown in his mouth.’
I watched Gemma as she frowned. I could see a little ray of uncertainty cross her face. She and Roger were close, and she was incredibly protective of him. He allowed Gemma to play the harlot, but he was only to mess with her. I knew why. He was about the best-looking guy in the University.
‘He loves me sucking his balls, Gemma. He says I do it better than you. Then I take his cock and lick it as he likes. Nice and slow from the balls to the nob. Then…’
‘Have you been playing with Roger?’ She asked, now very serious.
‘Not just playing I smiled. You need to keep a closer eye on him. He’s been fucking me behind your back. I wanted to tell you, but…’
I could see Gemma trying to comprehend what I had told her. She was putting all the things together.
‘Last night, he had to go to an extracurricular event. Right?’
Gemma paused, ‘Yes.’
‘That’s what he told you,’ I explained, ‘But he spent the night with me in my room. We fucked until gone two.’
Then the light came on. I could see I had got Gemma as we say ‘hook, line and sinker.’
‘You little tart. You bitch. You…’ Words seemed to fail her as her anger grew.
Suddenly, she let fly with the whip.
‘I thought you were my best friend. How could you?’ She was fighting back the tears as she used the whip time and again over my back. She held nothing back. She was furious and was letting me know.
She was screaming at me, ‘You dirty fucking whore! You total bitch!’
As she lashed my back and bum, I screamed out with every blow that landed across my exposed body. I was in tears at her unremitting barrage.
Suddenly and thankfully, Max stepped in, ‘ENOUGH!’ He shouted, grabbing Gemma’s arm to stop another painful blow.
‘I can’t believe it. I can’t believe that my best friend and boyfriend have been fucking each other behind my back. I bet you have been laughing at me all this time, too. I’ve been such a fool.’
‘Gemma,’ I said when I could get a word in. ‘Don’t believe a word I said! Roger has been faithful to you. I just made all that up.’
‘You’re only saying that now to try and patch things up. How did you know all those intimate things about Roger?’
‘Gemma. Calm down. You told me. You told me about how he loves you to suck his balls and lick his cock like ice cream. It was you who said to me about his mole.’
Â
‘What about last night? How did you know about that?’
‘I must confess on that one. Roger told me.’
‘Roger?’
‘Yes. Last Monday in the cafeteria. You nipped back to get something, and he told me about Friday. Simple as that.’
‘Then why did you say all those things?’
‘Why do you think Gemma? To get you angry and use the whip on me. Max didn’t want you just to tap me. Did you, Max? He wanted to see me in pain.’
‘So you made up that story just to get me angry.’
‘Yes! I had to do something. Clever or what?’
‘I could have hurt you.’
‘Could have,’ I laughed, ‘You flipping well did. Gemma, you could be a dominatrix anytime you want.’
‘I agree with Rachel on that, Gemma. When you were mad, you were fantastic,’ Max added.
‘It was a rotten trick to play on me,’ Gemma replied.
Max paid us our usual rate, plus he added a bonus. Whenever he handed us the money, he would say, ‘Well ladies, here is your ‘Cash for Cunt’ money. On this occasion, he called it our ‘Pain Payment.’
If Max wanted to engage in some form of bondage on future visits, he would use whatever equipment he desired himself. He would Fuck Gemma and Flog me. It was an arrangement that worked well until our days of study were complete.
We met with other clients during our time of stripping off our clothes and selling off our pussies. All are tales worth telling. Mousey Man, Gorilla Guy, and Lion King are three names that immediately spring to mind. There were my solo trips, usually to Group Sex events, that I was often invited to attend. Maybe I will write about these, but they really are for another account.
Â
