Neighborhood Sex Club - Book 2
Copyright© 2025 by Wolf
Chapter 54: New York
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 54: New York - Due to the waning sex in their marriages and busy lives, three ‘hot’ neighbors create some sexual challenges, with some requiring people other than their spouses. As the games go on, others besides the three couples join in, forming a Neighborhood Sex Club. Many adventures occur, especially for Melissa, the wildest of the group. Book Two! The sexual challenges, initiated in the first book by Melissa (Mel) and her friends, continue on!
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic BiSexual Heterosexual Fiction Sharing Incest Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Anal Sex Exhibitionism Masturbation Oral Sex Voyeurism
DAVE
All weekend long, whenever the kids weren’t nearby, I’d tease Mel about being Warren’s ‘escort’ or ‘call girl’ that he was taking to Manhattan for a night of wild sex, maybe even with some of his friends. I reminded her of the cruise on the Prentiss yacht that was a lot of fun and real fuck fest.
I asked how much she was being ‘paid’ and then learned she was being given a lavish shopping trip. She really was into being an escort. I also used a few derisive terms for what she was doing. I urged her to get her money’s worth on her shopping expedition along Fifth Avenue with Warren’s credit card.
Oddly, I was not bent out of shape in any manner about her going off and playing the role of escort for Warren. I’d become inured to her having copious quantities of sex with other men, even multiple men, and even simultaneous multiple men. I could care less whether she got paid for it or not. For this situation, she was really excited about the shopping part of the trip and less about the sex.
Further, I’d still have Cindy, Trish, and Wendy at home, and we were all as lusty as ever. Other female friends were only a call away. It had become a rare night that I didn’t fuck some or all of them, including Mel. I did tease Wendy about ‘putting out’ for the teacher (me) to ensure a good grade in my class. We went back and forth on that one for a lot of laughs.
I emphasized to Mel, knowing Warren as I did plus what we’d found on the yacht, that she should expect to be the sex toy not only for Warren, but also for other men and possibly women in the evenings she was there. One side-effect of that was that she might not get any sleep on the trip, except on the plane. Even then, there was the Mile-High Club that Warren might like to invoke. Who knows, maybe there’d even be other passengers on the plane.
Always informed, both Anne and Monica came and casually asked whether Mel was ‘really’ going on the trip with Warren. I chided them for the apparent moral judgment that I heard in their question and tone, and got apologies back. I emphasized to them the tenets of the people in the Sex Club about loving open relationships.
I told the two of them, “Mel has not only a need for sex, but also a need to be naughty. Taking the trip will give her both, and she can trust that those of us at home, where it counts, will not hold her behavior against her. We love her unconditionally. Most relationships are conditional.”
They both explained that they were really kind of jealous and wanted to do something like Mel was doing; specifically, going off and playing escort for Warren. I’d misread their interest completely.
I asked, “Do you want me to communicate your wishes to Warren? It might mean some pretty wild sex like you know happened on the yacht a few months ago.”
Both women nodded enthusiastically.
I told them to also talk to Ron at one of our gatherings about their desires if they wanted to branch out beyond the Sex Club. He seemed to have lots of contacts on the seamier side of life that he rarely talked about. I mentioned to Anne that she might want to mention her need to Carl. “I bet he meets a lot of needy people when he’s on the road giving concerts. Maybe he wants a ‘hot girlfriend’ or ‘hot wife’.”
Monica asked, “Back up a minute, could you explain the difference between conditional and unconditional love, maybe with examples. I’ve heard those terms so much but I’ve never understood where the dividing line is.”
I said, “Suppose you were in a ‘traditional’ marriage – husband, dog, cat, one-point-eight children, and house with a picket fence. Now, suppose you went away for two nights with one of your male friends, knowingly to have sex and be wild for a bit. What would you find when you got home.”
Anne smirked, but allowed Monica to speculate. She slowly said, “Divorce papers, I suppose.”
“Quite probable, I think. The love the couple had was conditional on her staying around her husband and not going off with another man, and certainly about not having sex other than with her man. The love requires that she be exclusive with her possessive husband. His conditions might also include her not seeing certain friends of either sex that he doesn’t approve of, having dinner always ready with nice cleaned up kiddies, and at least two sessions of sex a week.
“I think most marriages are based on conditional love. ‘I’ll love you if... ‘ might be the operating premise. ‘If’ you’re exclusive, faithful, adhere rigidly to our ‘rules’, don’t have sex with other people, act like a whore in the bedroom and a maid otherwise, keep giving blowjobs, and so on. The list could be endless.”
Anne said to Monica, “I know Dave loves me Unconditionally. When I got interested in Carl, all he did was support me and help arrange for us to be together when he could. We still love each other, and would move planets around if that would help the other. I know his love for me is not contingent on my friendships, lovers, behavior, beliefs, or history. He just plain out loves me.”
Monica teased, “So, why don’t you make love in the office?”
Anne winked at me and quickly said, “Who says we haven’t?”
Monica looked appropriately shocked, but also interested.
MEL
The flight in the private jet that really belonged to the corporation, reminded me that I should never fly commercial again. I teased Warren that the only security check I went through was when he kissed me and ran his hands all over my body just before we boarded the sleek corporate toy.
On the plane, after we were in the air, Warren talked about the business he was involved with for the Prentiss Foundation. Dave was on the organization’s board, but I suspect he wasn’t involved in these kinds of tactical moves to encourage specific donors to make outrageous pledges to the Foundation.
Warren said, “Do you remember Mark Tynes and Doug Parsons from our little sex cruise around part of the Gulf of Mexico?”
I grinned, “I certainly do. Nice gentlemen.”
“Well, my business is with the two of them starting this afternoon. I could also arrange for one or the other or both to spend some time with us – with you, if you’re interested?”
Warren was being so polite. I translated that somewhat coarsely into ‘I need a hooker to help convince these guys to give up a shitload of money’.
I grinned, “Oh, this trip just got better. Yes, both of them. You just made my pussy all wet.” That was accurate, despite the ‘business’ side of things.
Warren said, “Well, we also still have over two hours before we set down at Teterboro outside Manhattan. You ever join the club?”
I really did want to belong to the Mile-High Club. I knelt in front of Warren, and pulled his cock from his slacks. I gave a very credible blowjob with some deep throat adventures for him, before he stopped me.
Warren stripped my clothes away as we made out, and then his own. I lay back in one of the luxury leather seats, and he ate me out for a few hundred miles of forward progress by the plane. He wasn’t as good as Dave, but he was satisfyingly good.
Warren wanted more, so he plunged a nice chunk of man meat into my horny little cooter. I asked, and he estimated we were over South Carolina at about forty-one-thousand feet. Ho hey, I was now in the MHC – the Mile-High Club. I’d have to tell the girls about this.
I had Warren use my cellphone to take some selfies of the two of us fucking. I asked him to make sure the window of the plane was in some of pics so that I could prove that we were at altitude.
After our fuck, I used the tiny potty in the rear of the plane to clean-up. Even I had to bend my head down to use the space, and I’m only about five-feet tall. I ended up with a tampon inside to staunch the flow of Warren’s fluids out of my body. We redressed and then sat back and enjoyed the rest of the flight.
We landed in Teterboro, shifted to a limo with our luggage, and drove into Manhattan. Our suite was at the Four Seasons. Nice digs. Big bed. I cleaned up some more and put on my shopping shoes. Warren went off to his meeting after giving me a black metallic Visa card. By five o’clock, I had three new cocktail dresses, a load of Victoria’s Secret underwear, two new designer handbags, and some new CFM shoes to match the dresses that made me look everything from chic conservative to sex on a stick and ready to fuck. I planned to wear my ‘sex-on-a-stick’ dress that evening.
Warren arrived back at our hotel room at six-thirty. I was wearing my sexy new dress and shoes, and had my make-up done to perfection. He stopped as he came into the room and studied me to the point that I felt slightly embarrassed.
He said, “You are without doubt the hottest, sexiest, and most desirable women on the planet. Wow, you and that dress were made for each other. I am blown away by you, yet again. I hope you know I am falling for you in a big way. I should probably say ‘have fallen’.”
I went and kissed Warren. I said, “Just remember the rules. I have Dave and other men and women that I love. I’m glad you’re one of them, but our love will always exist in that context.”
“Oh, I know, and I’m happy that I can be with you like this – now and forever.”
We kissed some more. Warren finally said, “We’re meeting Mark Tynes for dinner at a little place a short taxi ride away named Le Bernardin.” Mark was waiting for us in the small bar at the place, and I willingly gave out a barrage of hot kisses to the nice older man. After all, I’d spent quite a few hours with him on the cruise begging him to fuck my lights out – or on – or whatever.