Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Fa/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Reluctant, Coercion, BiSexual, TransGender, Oral Sex,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Snooping around a bisexual girls club leads to uexplored sexual paths.
I sell insurance, industrial, liability, all kinds. I know. But it's a living, if you work at it, and it's a product people need, so they buy it. If they luck out and it turns out they didn't need it they feel cheated. So they figure I'm a sleaze. My wife Jane decorates interiors, stores, homes, anything. She has good taste, so everyone loves what she does, and they love Jane too. She gets and gives customer satisfaction without effort, or so it seems. I know better, and sometimes I help her figure out how to finesse her problems. Still, nobody knows what she saw in me when she married me. Someone to come home to, at best. Insurance. Even now, not too many people can guess what she sees in me.
All day long and lots of nights we're in and out of different homes and offices, seeing people and drawing up plans for them. We work irregular schedules, but we like it that way. We've been married a half-dozen years or so, time enough to get to know each other and get used to each other. We're... well... comfortable. No surprises. No upsets. The usual pattern -- house in the suburbs, no kids yet, Golf and Tennis Club membership, hang out with other people like us, clients, potential clients, a few friends.
To tell the truth, I've played around a little. Without Jane knowing. Not deliberately. I'd flirt, and sometimes it would get out of hand. Charm and flattery is useful in my business, especially when you're dealing with a woman. You have to listen to what the prospect says she wants, be attentive and sympathetic. You're always selling yourself, you know? With women sometimes send them little gifts and take them to dinner. Chat them up, you know? Then when they sign on the dotted line, it turns out they expected more than a counter signature where the dotted line ends.
But it's hard to keep things quiet in a small community like ours, where everyone knows everyone. So I'd never go out looking. Jane might have noticed. I'd bed down mostly out of town women mostly for one nighters, women who could appreciate someone companionable and not too bad in bed, but with no strings. There are lots of motels on the edge of town, and no one was ever the wiser.
So I never expected we'd end up together like this, Jane and me, in this whole new kind of marriage. It was all happening under my nose the whole time, but who knew?
It started out innocent enough. One morning Jane said to me, "Craig, drop these plans off at Alice's for me, would you? She'll be home around one. I've got an appointment then. We've got to get this project under way today, tell her. Gotta go! See you! Kiss!"
And she was gone before I could ask why she didn't just drop them off herself, Alice lives only a block or so away. Sometimes she doesn't think.
Well, I spent the morning making calls and catching up on my paperwork, then on my way to the office I stopped off at Alice's. The drapes were drawn, and I would have thought she and Roy were away for a few days, except there were cars in the driveway, and in front too. So I rang the bell, and who answered almost right away but Alice?
But Alice dressed like I've never seen her. In a kind of draped gauzy nightgown with her tits hanging half out, her nipples visible through the fabric. There was a dark shadow where her bush should be, and probably was. But I couldn't take my eyes off those nipples!
"Oh, hi, Craig!" she said. She just stood there in the doorway. Anyone on the street could have seen her, if there'd been anyone, though there never is. "You here to see Roy? He's always at the office this time of day. You know that."
"Not exactly, Alice," I said a little awkwardly. Trouble, I'm thinking. Big trouble. Don't do it. But would just a little messing around with Roy's wife get me into trouble with Jane? That depends. "Jane asked me to bring you these," I told her, and I handed her the package Jane gave me. "She says get your project going today. Whatever that means." Then I just stood there. Finally I looked up at her face. She 'd been watching me eyeball her boobs the whole time, and seemed amused. "I better be going," I finally said.
In reply she swung the door wide open. "Today?" she asked me in a loud voice. I nodded yes. "She say anything else?" I nodded no. One tit had come completely free, and it was just hanging out there in the open!
A woman's voice way back in Alice's living room called out, "Anyone we know, Alice? Let's see her!" Someone entered the far end of Alice's hallway from the living room, then stopped stark still, and said, "Well!" Another woman, completely naked! Wearing nothing, not even the next-to-nothing Alice was wearing! She was thin, with hip-bones poking like harps on each side of her flat belly, with ribs clearly visible under huge globes of breasts. I mean, huge! My god, on such a thin girl, why didn't she fall over? She shook a heavy head of black hair back behind her shoulders, and I could see she was staring at me calmly, not surprised to see me at all, just standing there. Her mound fully exposed too, curly dark hair in a dark V.
I suddenly realized I knew her. Tim Peterson's wife, he's an accountant, she's the doctor in that new medical arts building. I'd seen her a lot at the Club, and I'd been meaning to stop by to see if all her insurance needs have been met. What was her name?
"I'd better be going," I said again. "You ladies don't seem to have had time to get dressed yet this morning."
"This afternoon," said Alice. "You haven't had lunch yet? Why don't you come in, now, Craig, and let's see what we can fix up on short notice."
She stepped to one side, and now the doorway and hallway led straight back to the thin Peterson woman with the big hair and tits, still standing and looking at me from the far end. I was still checking out those enormous boobs when she turned her head and looked back into the living room as if there were more people in there. Also naked?
"Can you close the door, Alice?" came another woman's voice.
That one was familiar! Our across-the-street neighbor, "Dottie" Jane calls her, "the Widder" I call her, her husband having died a few years ago. She's some dish! Luscious mouth, huge eyes, curves everywhere, a knockout dresser. Guys in and out of her house all the time, and now and then someone's car spends the night in her driveway. Jane once caught me staring out the window at her house, and said "Off limits!" in a tone of voice that stopped me so cold I couldn't even begin to pretend I didn't know what she was talking about.
The Widder's voice again. "Alice! It's getting chilly in here, and we're all wearing nearly nothing! Come in or go away, whoever you are."
"You'd better come in," Alice said, this time more commanding than inviting. I stepped inside.
Alice shut the door behind me and gestured me toward her living room, just past the nude doctor, who'd shifted her weight to one leg and cocked her hip, and folded her arms under those enormous tits so they bulged up over her forearms, and was still looking at me steadily. Now even her nipples were staring at me. I walked toward her trying hard not to look, and when we were about to bump I turned to walk into Alice's living room. Then I paused again!
The place looked like a harem! Everywhere were women's legs and arms and bodies! A few women were sprawled on the two couches wearing some kind of diaphanous something, those wrappers that cover nothing. Another was doing stretching exercises along the wall, naked, little tits and a thin bush, but thighs that looked like they could crush a horse. Another was standing with her back to me, studying some statue on the fireplace mantle, bare except for thin, high-cut lace panties not quite covering the cheeks of her ass, two small, pert watermelons perched above her legs. As I looked she glanced at me over her shoulder, then turned away again. At the end of the room I saw two women entangled on the floor, one of them moaning aloud. They were having sex of some sort with each other, and they were not concerned at all to know who had just walked in. Not anything else either.
"Ladies," I tried to say politely, though my throat only let out a yelp at first. "I see I've interrupted something. I'd better go."
"No," Alice said. "Why don't you come in and sit over there, and make yourself comfortable while we decide what to do about you."
"I'd rather not!" I said, and a little pleading crept into my voice. Or maybe it was genuine reluctance. "Jane... uh... Jane... wouldn't like my being here like this."
"Craig, sit down!"
"Alice, I don't think I should, exactly," I replied. But I was already walking toward the overstuffed chair in the center of the room, and I turned and sat down. Now I could see there were maybe nine women in the room all told, counting the lady doctor in the hallway, and Alice was the most overdressed of them. A few were utterly nude. A few wore negligees or wraparounds. One was wearing only a flimsy bra, which left her bush looking all the more exposed. I didn't know where to put my eyes, so I tried to look at Alice. Both of her tits were now hanging free.
"Don't worry about Jane. We're all Jane's friends, and we're certainly not going to upset her. No, you're the problem. You know how it is. Little boys who see things like to tell other people, and need to be told what will happen to them if they tell. We certainly don't want you gossiping all over town about us."
Well, I had already decided two things about what I had stumbled into. One was that it was what it looked like, some kind of ladies' sex club. There was still a chance it was one of those lingerie parties women have, where some saleswoman shows them some naughty things to turn on their husbands, and they giggle a lot and buy a few. I figured I'd say that's what I think it is, at least until I got out of there. But this had a different smell about it. The women weren't giggly, they were serious, as if they'd been eager to get on to something, and I'd interrupted them.
The other thing I decided was that these women looked distantly familiar. I bet they all belong to our Golf Club. It's a small town. I wouldn't have any real problem finding out who they were. No problem calling on them, one at a time, to ask them to help me sell their husbands life insurance, or other kinds of insurance, I was sure. Or I could sell them insurance. Given what this looked to be, this could be a really good thing, I decided, if I played it right.
"I won't tell anyone anything, Alice," I assured her.
"No, you certainly won't," Alice said. "But first off, we're going to need some insurance."
"Exactly!" I said. "I couldn't have said that better myself." She was going to buy my silence without my even asking! But I hadn't heard her quite right.
She continued as if she hadn't heard me at all, "Meg, what do you think?"
"I've already thought it," a woman on the couch replied. This was another one with really great tits! She was the one with the brassiere and the bare beaver, the most delicate lace thing you can imagine. It barely covered the aureoles surrounding the big nipples on her huge, pendulous breasts. Maybe it pulled her up a little in front, just a little. "We're lucky I came here straight from a shoot. This'll do fine."
She held up what I recognized was a state-of-the-art, high-gadget camera of some kind. That's who she was, Margaret whatsername, "Portraits by Meg," the fashion photographer who did a lot of dress catalogs and advertising around town. I'd met her at a party, and thought she was a Dyke who probably played around with her models. Good looking enough. Were these her models? Now what kind of insurance would she need? Malpractice? First of all, for her equipment.
"Meg is it?" I began. "I've been meaning to talk to you about a policy...".
"No, we'll arrange our own insurance, Craig," Alice said. "Thank you. Are you comfy in that chair, now? Good. Dottie?"
"Gotcha, Alice. Love to."
Before I knew what was happening, the Widder was kneeling in front of me, and had unzipped my pants and taken out my cock, and was holding it in her hand. "No problem," she said, looking it over. "Not too big at all." It was still limp, but I could feel the first stirrings of an erection as she palmed it gently and then ran her red-manicured fingertips over it. "Not at all!"
Suddenly she bent down and put it all in her mouth, and there it was, warm and wet, imprisoned, and I could feel her tongue move. I didn't dare move. Then even before it got past its first stirrings and began to harden up, Meg started to leap and crouch around us like a ballet dancer, her camera tight against her face, taking shot after shot of the two of us. Me supposedly getting a blow job. Me actually getting a blow job. I was now as big and hard as I get, and Dottie was licking up and down the vein on the underneath part of my cock, then pursing her mouth over my cock head, then running her lips down me. "Mmmmmmm," she said as if to encourage me.
Meg talked the whole time. "Higher, Dottie... that's it... beautiful... just gorgeous... face away from the camera please... you, Craig is it, can't you look a little more pleased, there's this beautiful woman blowing your horn for you... that's it... lift your face higher... not you Dottie... and smile... that's OK, that expression will do it just fine.". I wanted to say, "I'd better go" yet again, for show, but I couldn't. I wanted to come. I'll leave when she's done, I thought. And later I'll get some pictures myself of these broads dressed up in nothing playing footsie with each other, and it'll be a standoff.
Meanwhile there was this gorgeous feeling growing in my cock, and growing bigger, and Dottie wasn't slowing down at all. Her head rose and fell, and she seemed to be trying to suck me inside out.
Then Meg leaned way over me and I saw that those massive mammaries had come out of their cage and were flopping around. "Open wide," she ordered, and I don't know why, I just did. She stuffed a huge tit into my mouth and with one hand holding the camera extended an arm's length away she clicked off four or five more shots. My eyes bulged, but reflexively I began to tongue those big nipples, they were the size of the thimbles on my wife's sewing table. As she pulled away Meg got a shot of my tongue curling toward one of them. Meanwhile down below, Dottie kept up the pace, and that ripening sensation outgrew the base of my cock and moved out over my loins. I began to clench my ass.
When Meg took her tit back out of my mouth, I groaned "Don't!" and I realized I meant it both ways. I tried for a moment to bring my erection down by sheer force of will. I tried to remember if the Mets had ever fielded a triple play, or what was on an actuarial table I'd been looking over only that morning. But all I saw was Dottie's red lips gliding up and down my saliva-slicked bone, and my breathing got shorter and shorter. Then I lunged my hips into Dottie's mouth a few times and started to come.
The first spurts she swallowed, then the next few she took on her face, smiling as if delighted, then the rest she gathered into the palm of her hand. When I was done, she held her hand to my mouth as if she were feeding me a handful of honey. And I lapped it up! My own cum, out of the palm of her hand! Salty sweet, was it?
"Got it all?" she asked. I realized she was talking to Meg. All the while I was rising and spurting, Meg had been clicking away, chatting us up, building up my climax as if it were her own. "Oh, yes, yes, give it to her, give me more, more, that ecstatic look again, again please, yes, more, yes, that drop of cum on your lips glistening now, beautiful, open wider please, yes, now lick it!" When I'd blown everything I had in me and come down to earth, Dottie tucked me back into my pants. She patted my crotch as if it were a pet dog, stood up, and walked away. Meg waved her camera in the air and said "Yes, yes. Wonderful, Dottie. Got it all."
I realized I was in serious trouble now. But I thought I could still handle it. They were only women. "You can't do this!" I shouted. "It's blackmail! It's against the law! You'll be arrested!" Threats like that seemed called for. In fact I couldn't wait to get out of there and tell some of my buddies about what had just happened, maybe get one to shoot photos just like these through an uncovered window, or at least to take a registry of all these women coming and going. Even one of the blow job photos, if I could get hold of one, would mean that the Widder Dottie was going to spend a lot of time on her knees in front of me, trying to save her reputation from ruin!
"No," Alice said. "It's blackmail only if, say, we were to threaten to show these pictures to Jane as evidence that you've been getting it on with Dottie for months now, and that we took them because you've been extorting favors from her to gratify your perverse tastes, in exchange for your silence about who visits her when. In further evidence there's that life insurance policy you sold her last month, threatening to ruin her reputation if she didn't buy it."
"She asked me to..." I practically shouted.
"Of course she did. She wanted a life insurance policy. Still, how does it look, with these pictures and that story? But all we want is for you not to tell anyone anything about what you've seen here today. Then there's no problem, and no blackmail. Is there?"
I glared up silently. I could still figure something, I felt pretty sure. Not sure what.
"These pictures of you forcing Dottie to her knees are our insurance. Moreover, if you try to tarnish the reputations of any one of us here, if you threaten to tell our husbands about us, we'll just deny everything you say, and support each other's stories. We'll see to it that no one we know has anything further to do with you. Or with your insurance company. Who would believe you, against all of us? Spreading a fantastic cock and bull story, that you saw us all here naked. You'd be laughed out of business. So these pictures aren't blackmail. They're insurance against your getting foolish and trying to blackmail us.
"I better go," I said, one last time.
"In a moment," Alice said. "Now, Craig, one more thing you need to know. This group meets bi-weekly, every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon. Our husbands and the neighbors think we play bridge or something, I'm sure. We call ourselves the BiGirls. We are all of us bisexual, and we are delighted to have found each other. As you've seen, we enjoy giving pleasure to each other as well as to our husbands or boyfriends, and we take pleasure from each other the same way, and we see no harm in it. But our husbands might not understand. So we don't want you snooping around here Tuesday and Thursday afternoons to take pictures of us to use to blackmail us into not blackmailing you, so you can blackmail us into selling insurance to our husbands. I know you, you're as transparent as glass. From now on, when we're meeting, we'll want to know exactly where you are. And that'll be right here. Safely with us. Craig, save all your Tuesdays and Thursdays for us from now on. You aren't bi, that I know of, but now you're one of us anyhow. An honorary BiGirl. I'm sure we'll enjoy each other. Welcome to the Club! Now you can go."
As I left Alice's living room, the couple on the floor at the far end of the room were still getting it on -- I don't know if they ever even knew I was there. One had this enormous cock strapped to her!
Alice added as she let me out, "Oh, yes, Craig. You'll need to fit in, of course. For next Tuesday's meeting be sure to shave off all your body hair. Then use a depillatory. Everything below your eyebrows. We want you as smooth and ladylike as we are. A little patch of pubic hair will be all right. It might even look cute."
"Why so sad? You're invited to have sex with nine good looking women twice each week! It isn't as if you've been absolutely faithful to Jane these past years -- we know better, and of course so do you. We'll help you with Jane, don't worry, about where you're spending your afternoons, or later on why you can't get it up with her, when you're fucked out. So what is there to feel sad about?"
That night Jane asked me if I'd brought Alice the plans and delivered the message. I said yes, and didn't say anything more, and she didn't ask anything more.