Dear Reader. I'm an Australian writer and use English spelling and Australian slang. If you can't with the fact that at times words will end in 're' or that there will be a 'u' in colour, please stop reading now. (Yes, we've had complaints.) CUCK WARNING! This story also contains married folk enjoying sex with other people. If that subject matter offends, stop reading now. If you've read that warning and still choose to send us an anonymous email, our response to you is at the end of this story.
Sharon couldn't believe what she was looking at. After saving over $7,000 her bank balance had dwindled down to only $950. Although her income was bolstered by the government's student allowance and the occasional part-time job, she had one more year to complete her teaching degree and hitting the workforce as a fully qualified English teacher.
She needed another job, preferably one that paid cash and wasn't traceable by Mr Taxman. The classifieds revealed nothing and she sat forlornly in her inner-city flat pondering her looming financial crisis. With the cost of her rent, food and transport her money would be gone in three months. Her flatmates Jodie and Christine both came from wealthy farming families who, thanks to some creative accounting seemed to always be broke, therefore allowing the girls even greater government support and frequent family handouts.
One Saturday night though the three of them were stumbling in a drunken daze down a street in Surry Hills when Sharon noticed a sign looking for wait staff posted outside a small wine bar. With great concentration she entered the number into her phone and saved it.
The wine bar looked nice enough, not so big to be crazy busy, but not so small to be dull.
The night ended as usual, one of them would pick up and the other two would bitch and moan until they came home with tales of sexual action. Then they would spend the Sunday dissecting the evenings events and whinging about men.
Sharon was no prude when it came to sexual exploration. Since leaving home she'd had quite a few partners both long and short term. At one stage she had two men playing for her affections, and her pussy. It ended in disaster of course when one of them came to visit on a Sunday morning only to find her lying on her bed with one of her vibrators lodged in her pussy and the other guy fucking her mouth.
As soon as she saw the other guy standing in the door way Sharon wanted them both to fuck her there and then, but after a very brief shouting match the intruder left, followed soon after by the man she'd been sucking off. Neither ever spoke to her again.
Being an English teacher in the making, Sharon was a lover of literature, especially well written erotic fiction. The more graphic the sex scenes the better and if the stories had pictures to help tell the tale it was a bonus. Eventually this lead to her perusing the internet looking for stories, videos and images that appealed to her.
With a startle she awoke on the Sunday morning as her phone chimed out a reminder about the position vacant advertisement that she had seen taped to the front window of the wine bar.
Fortified with caffeine and a bowl of cereal she called the number and completed the shortest job interview in history.
The conversation was brief to say the least and as for applying for work it didn't come much easier. After her introduction and a few invented work experience tales, he asked her to come in for a trial for a night. Before she even asked he told her yes, she'd be getting paid $125 cash for the night if she got the job or not.
The owner of the wine bar was a slight, neatly dressed Italian man called Vince who turned out to be a rarity amongst business men. Vince genuinely cared for and looked out for his staff. All of the staff spoke fondly of Vince and his generous spirit and most of the casual waitresses had all been there for years.
Sharon soon discovered though that not all was as it seemed at the wine bar. When she arrived she was told by Vince that the room up at the top of the stairs was for a private function and that she didn't have to go up there. All she had to do was serve food and drinks to the small gathering of customers downstairs many of which, it soon became obvious, were all invited to the private function upstairs. Many of the guests downstairs came in either wearing or carrying masks for the party that was kicking along only a few feet above. The guests were just your normal, common, ordinary folk. None overly glamorous, but none hideous either. So average in fact that Sharon thought nothing of them.
At the end of her first shift, at midnight on a Saturday night, Vince passed her the $125 cash and sat her down in the office out the back. Once he'd told her that she had the job he told her exactly what was upstairs.
"It's a swingers club," he said.
"Sorry?" Sharon said in disbelief, "A what?"
"It's a swingers club," he laughed, "Where people swap partners and have orgies and things like that."
"I work at a swingers club?" she said.
"No, not at all," Vince said, "You work here in the bar and that's all you have to do."
"How long has the room upstairs been a swing club?" she asked.
"About three years," Vince said, "Happened by accident after a small group of them booked it out."
"They couldn't help themselves and began having sex in one of the side rooms," he said to a fascinated Sharon, "Then one of the waitresses told me and I confronted them about it."
"Wow," Sharon said.
"Then one of them made me an offer of becoming a part-owner in a new business venture."
"Is it legal?'
"Certainly," he said, "Its not a brothel or anything like that."
Sharon just sat back and looked up at the ceiling.
"So there are people up there right now shagging each other?"
"More than likely," he said, "But as I said you are under no obligation to do anything and if you see anyone acting inappropriately downstairs, or if someone approaches you downstairs that you don't want to, just let me know."
"Ok," Sharon said before following with a statement that steered her life in a direction that lay towards her future husband. "Can I go up and have a look?"
Vince was shocked "Really?"
"Yeah," she said, "I'll only be wondering about it if I don't."
"Ok then," Vince said, "I'll get one of the girls upstairs to come down and take you up rather than you just walking in like a single girl."
"There are girls upstairs as well?"
"Yeah," Vince nodded "Kay and Julie do exactly as you do but their uniform, pay and working conditions are somewhat different."
He reached for the phone and hit the autodial for upstairs.
As he chatted on the phone Sharon tried to recall some of the people she'd seen going up the stairs. There were a few women and quite a lot of men is something she recalled.
The term 'Swingers' made her uneasy. Desperate men and dirty sluts is what she immediately thought when she heard the word 'swingers'. Sad couples trying to add a sparkle to the relationship, men forcing their wives into sex, perverts, sado-masochists. They were all terms that she immediately thought of as soon as she heard the word 'swingers'.
The stories that she'd read about swingers though usually painted a different picture. These stories were normally about couples enjoying the swinging scene, about the rules in swing clubs and the relaxed attitudes that swingers had about sex. It was these two contrasting notions of swing clubs that had her thinking that a first hand account was the only way to clarify her thoughts.
"Kay," he said, "Could you go make yourself decent and pop downstairs please."
The term 'make yourself decent' intrigued Sharon who could feel the combined beating of a thousand butterflies in her stomach.
"Now don't be thinking that you have to work upstairs or do anything that you don't want to OK?" Vince said. "Kay and Julia get paid well because they work well and enjoy the job."
"How much do they get paid?" Sharon had to ask.
"I pay them $500 plus they get to keep all the tips."
Sharon was silenced. $500+ per night was damn fine money.
The sound of a pair of high-heel shoes clicking on the steps drew their attention and soon a lady in her late thirties appeared in the doorway. Her hair was mousy brown, shoulder length and curly and she wore a short black coat. Fishnet stockings clad her legs and the high heels weren't the cheaper brands that Sharon could only afford. She smiled at Sharon and rose an eyebrow as a greeting.
"Kay this is Sharon," Vince said, "Sharon this is Kay."
They both nodded and waved.
"Sharon has decided that she would like to, in her own words, go up and have a look at what happens upstairs."
"Really?" Kay said, "Well it's a good night for it because it's a birthday party."
"Perfect," Vince said. "Now remember Sharon you don't have to do anything up there other than just look around OK. Some people can be very persuasive."
"I'm a big girl," Sharon said as she stood up. She wasn't sure if what she was doing was right or not but her mind and body were humming in anticipation.
"Let's go then." Kay said.
Sharon followed her up the back flight of stairs and when they got to the top Kay stopped and turned to her.
"Vince collects their entrance fees and such and checks them out just here," she nodded towards a small room before they entered the venue, "This is the bar area so just follow me behind the bar and watch from there okay?"
Sharon just nodded and as Kay opened the door the smell of sex, booze and decadence wafted out.
.... There is more of this story ...