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Ever increasing circles. Chapter 2.

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Thank you for the favourable remarks. Yes, there is more to cum. I will keep writing for as long as you keep liking. But it’s a slow process, so please be patient. The next day I thought of a possible way. The parlour where I had taken Alex’ two shaggers, held a ‘swingers club’ on Saturday nights. I took a long lunch break and visited the place. Yes they did. Yes we would be welcome. There were rules: It cost £50 for a couple, £100 for a solo male. We had to pre-book, so that numbers could be evened up by using professional girls from the parlour. They met at seven for drinks and to meet any newcomers. Anyone could leave at any time, in case the potential partners did not appeal. But for the remainder, the action started at eight o’clock. At that time, either the men or the women, it changed each week, drew numbers. Lowest number had first choice of partner, next lowest second choice, and so on. Condoms were obligatory (And provided!) for ‘penetrative sex’. There were only three bedrooms, two with showers, but there was also a shared bathroom and ‘encounters’ in the reception area were allowed, encouraged even, as there would be spectators waiting for a room to become free. There was a time limit for room usage, 30 minutes per session. It seemed rather a short time to me, but it was to prevent couples hogging the rooms, and I found out later that it was to also encourage group sessions in the ‘lounge’. (Certainly the reception/lounge area was big enough for group activity; it contained three large leather couches as well as a bar and other seating.) The party finished at eleven, or when the men ‘ran out of ammunition’, whichever came first. Membership cost £25 for a couple, £50 for a single male, £10 for a single female. I thought that it might be interesting to try, but would it appeal to Alex? She was doubtful at first, what if it was all ‘smelly pervs’? The eight o’clock escape route would cover that. She decided to give it a try. We were there dead on seven. By ten past there were four couples, including ourselves, two solo males and one professional girl from the parlour. There should have been two ‘pro’s’, but one did not turn up. The owner/organiser, Vicky, was angry. The truant would be fired. Vicky was probably late fifties or more. Very presentable though. “Twenty years ago I would have made up the numbers.” She said. “Did we want to proceed with the numbers we had? Or call the evening off?” Nobody said no, in fact one rather extrovert woman, Joanne, went as far as to say; “You can’t have too many cocks. I would be happy if the rest of you were all men!” It broke the ice. Drinks were flowing, which also helped. Alex and I were the only first timers, all the others were regulars. Eight o’clock came; Vicky asked if we were all staying. Ten pairs of eyes were on Alex and me. Alex nodded, we were staying. Vicky produced a black bag, inside were six golf balls each with a number. As the only rookie male, I got to draw first, I was told not to show the number just yet. It was number six. I had a slight sinking feeling. Six men, five women. I would get last choice of rooms and females! However the rest of the draw went, I would spend at least half an hour waiting for a vacant cunt. All the numbers had been drawn. With a wide grin, Vicky announced; “Gentlemen, you may show your balls.” No-one laughed, they had all heard it before. Alan, the man who had drawn number one, chose Alex and they disappeared upstairs. Numbers two and three made their selections and followed them. In the lounge, all was silent except for the grunting coming from the porn film running being projected onto a large screen fixed across one corner of the room, from a projector TV. State of the art back then. For about ten minutes we watched the on-screen action. My mind was on what was happening upstairs, was my wife already impaled on Alan’s cock? Joanna broke the silence. She stood and peeled her dress off over her head. Underneath she wore a red leather cupless basque which supported red stockings. Red shoes completed the ensemble. Nothing else. “I hate waiting for second sitting, I need cock now. Who is going to fuck me?” I looked at the man who had drawn fourth. It was his decision. He turned out to be Joanna’s partner. He deferred to number five, Peter. Peter stood up. He sat Joanna down onto one of the couches and knelt in front of her, parting her legs, giving the rest of us a good view of a cunt ready for action. He bent forward and pressed his mouth to it. “Oh you darling man!” Exclaimed Joanna, placing her hands behind his head and pulling him into her. I could hear his slurps. Joanna moved her hands to her own body and began to squeeze her large tits, her stiff nipples peeping between her fingers. She really had been gagging for it, she started to climax, gasping out her passion. As she came down from her peak, Peter stood up. Her juices glistened on his face. He quickly undressed. He was quite a small man, but muscular and well proportioned. But as he removed his pants he revealed a part quite out of proportion. Standing out from a mass of black pubic hair, was a monster cock. I watched in admiration as he produced a condom and rolled it onto his huge stalk. He must have had the rubber with him; there was no way that he would fit into a standard size. I did know that it was possible to buy them in large sizes. I had not had much use for them, being in a stable relationship, but back when I did, I had always found them to be uncomfortably tight. I would have to have a word with him, though my own little boy part did not compare with his! Joanna turned round and knelt on the sofa, leaning over the back, presenting her large but shapely arse for our enjoyment. Her cunt was a wet gash, widespread and waiting. Her red lips almost matched the whiplash ribbons of her suspenders. Peter presented his oversized tool to her offered slot and drove home in one thrust. Joanna let out a little yelp as he stretched her. He held still for a few seconds for her to get used to his massive girth, then began to fuck her with long slow strokes. This was the sight that met Alex and Alan as they re-entered the room. Alex’ jaw dropped and her eyes widened at the debauched scene. She was not allowed time to enjoy it though, as number four, Jim, Joanna’s other half, claimed Alex for his own use. She managed a quick smile at me as she was led, back to the same room, for another round of shagging. I was in desperate need of relief, I looked across at the other female, Gemma, the only professional. Jim had made his choice, Peter had jumped the queue, Gemma was mine by default. Gemma was gorgeous, about twenty, by far the youngest there, dark skinned, of Asian ancestry I imagined. She looked to be straight from the centre pages of an up-market girlie magazine. Very fuckable. I was surprised that she had not already been claimed, the only reason I could think of was that the other men had all done her already, at previous parties. But did I want to perform in public, in the full glare of the ‘group’ room? My testosterone fuelled brain told me that it was that or going to the loo for a wank. No brainer. I stood and held out a hand to Gemma. I was saved from a public performance by the return of number two and his chosen mate. Gemma led me to their now available room. It was the ‘spare’ room, the one without a shower. It did not have a bed, but a massage couch instead. Higher than a dining table and narrower even than a single bed. Ideal for massage or oral sex, but not much room for phallic frolicking. Still, room enough for one on top of the other. I quickly undressed. Gemma removed the wrap she had been wearing in the lounge, short enough to show off her long shapely legs right up to her stocking tops, but long enough to conceal the treasure above. This was now revealed as she took off her lacy bra and the wisp of nylon that covered her pubes. She was completely shaven, her cleft dividing her bare mound. The idea of spreading that cleft with my cock almost had me coming on the spot. She pressed herself against me, firm little tits pushing at my chest. I put my arms around her and took hold of her delectable arse. She reached down and took hold of my straining cock and kissed me on the mouth. Breaking the kiss, she asked; “Would you like me to suck you first?” As so often with Alex, I wanted everything at once, to fuck her and suck her and be sucked by her, all at the same time. I made a decision. “If it’s alright with you,” I replied. “I would like to lick you first.” She smiled, climbed up on the couch and spread those lovely golden thighs, her flower blossomed to welcome me. I bent and kissed the place where her clit was still concealed, then used my tongue to find the sweet bud and tease it to erection. Even now, many years and many partners later, I am never quite sure if a woman is faking orgasm. Sometimes it’s obvious, but not always. If Gemma’s was faked, she could add acting to her long list of accomplishments. She cried out and convulsed in a way that certainly convinced me, but when I eventually stopped sucking, she immediately stood up and encouraged me to lie down and take my turn. She wanked it a few times, not that it could have been any harder, then bent to her task. Her lips closing over my knob was sheer bliss. And it got better, she was very good at this. I moved her slightly so that I could caress her lovely bum, then allowed my fingers to find and to paddle in the brimming well that was her cunt. I could feel my climax quickly approaching and told her so. She released my boner, looked up at me and said; “You can come in my mouth if you like.” I do like. But I wanted to feel the heat of her cunt around my cock. Which option to choose? I chose her mouth. She moved so that she could look up at me while she sucked. Left hand around the base of my shaft, wanking gently, she moved her mouth up and down the rest, sucking hard as she did so, her brightly painted lips pouting on the upstroke, her large brown eyes locked onto mine. Whether I had chosen mouth or cunt, I was not going to last long. It was one of those slow motion ejaculations. I could feel my load beginning its journey from where ever semen is stored, along my shaft until bursting into Gemma’s vacuuming mouth. It seemed endless. Spurt after spurt pumped from me and she took it all. When she had milked me dry, she straightened up. There was cum on her lips. She parted them to show me her cream filled mouth. But she did not swallow. She moved to the hand basin in the corner of the room and spat out my gift, then rinsed her mouth. Very professional. She handed me some ‘wet-wipes’ to clean myself up, then reached for her knickers. We had been in the room less than twenty minutes, ten more to go before our time slot expired, so I slowed things down by chatting to her as I slowly dressed. She was a student at the nearby Uni, two years into an engineering degree. ‘Whoring’, (Her word.) allowed her to enjoy a good lifestyle without running up an otherwise unmanageable debt. It was fairly common practice among the better looking female students. She did not bother with her wrap, choosing to return to the lounge in her scanty underwear. The lounge had become noisy and like a scene from a roman orgy. Joanna was still performing publicly, this time cowgirl style astride a different stud. On a straight chair, another man sat with a woman mounted astride him, facing him with her arms around him, pegged in position by his rigid cock. One of the other men was also present, naked and gently wanking, enjoying the show, along with the omnipresent Vicky, beaming like a proud parent at the licentious scene. No sign of Alex though, she was being kept busy. The soundtrack of grunts from the porn film had been replaced by loud, thumping rock music. The screen now showed a live picture of the rutting couple on the couch. I looked for it, but could not see the camera. Gemma and I took seats on the high barstools. Vicky offered us drinks. Gemma chose juice, I asked for a spritzer, my chosen tipple for the evening. I had driven here, I did not want to get even remotely tipsy. Gemma was only allowed one swig at her drink before being claimed by the wanking man. He followed her enticing, virtually bare arse up the stairs, back to the room and the couch that we had just used. I felt slightly jealous. He was going to fuck her. I should have fucked her instead of allowing her to suck me off. But that had been nice too. I was hard again, I should have taken her back upstairs and finished the job. Testosterone was affecting my thinking. I watched for about ten minutes or so. The performers changed positions once each, but there was no sign of an end to their couplings. Another couple came into the lounge having finished their business upstairs. They accepted drinks. The woman, Clare, wore a dress, but certainly no bra beneath it, her nipples formed little tents on the front of the dress. The order of play seemed to have been abandoned. Here was someone to take my rapidly building second delivery. And there was a room free. A room with a bed! I drained my drink and invited Clare to join me. There was a bed in the room and a big one at that. Clare peeled off the dress. I was right, no bra. No knickers either. She was slim, athletic looking with a fine firm arse and small, firm tits, but with nipples you could hang your coat on. All she wore now was earrings and the, almost obligatory, high heeled shoes. I quickly undressed and we came together, standing, for a first kiss. “What do you like?” She enquired. “Everything.” I replied. We got onto the bed and I explored her fit body with my hands and my mouth, chewing on those stiff, rubbery teats. She moved down the bed and took my knob into her mouth. Then, looking up at me mischievously, took my entire length into down her throat until her lips were on my balls and her nose was buried in my pubes. Deep throat! My first time ever! She spent a long time sucking me and not just my knob. She slurped on each of my balls in turn, then did something that was also a first for me. She ran her tongue around the rim of my arsehole then pushed it into the hole. I yelled in surprise and pleasure. She was an Olympic standard fellatrice. She knew it and revelled in the act. Time and time again she brought me to the edge then let me slip down again until I begged her to stop. I did not return the compliment by licking her cunt, I was not sure how many cocks had been up it that evening. But if oral/genital contact was a bit one-sided, we made up for it when it came to genital/genital by boxing the compass in the variety of our fucking positions. I eventually lost control and shed my second load when she was mounted on top, cowgirl style. The mood had changed again when we arrived back in the lounge. Heavy metal had been replaced by a jazz combo accompanying a gravel voiced female singer whose voice alone was enough to cause a hard-on. The big screen was back to showing porn. Still no sign of Alex, Joanna was also absent. Gemma was kneeling on a sofa being fucked from behind by one of the males. The fifth female, Corrinne, was seated nude on another of the sofas with a man either side, each fondling a tit. Peter was seated at the bar, facing away from it, also naked. His remarkable appendage now dangled over the edge of the seat. One of Corinne’s tit-gropers disentangled himself and took Clare back upstairs. I sipped my drink and watched the show for about fifteen minutes, during which time Gemma and her partner completed their business. I felt ready for another round, so when Clare and her date returned from what must have been a quickie, I invited Corinne to join me, quickly staking claim on the big-bedded room. Corinne was the same sort of build as Joanna – ample. Not really my type, but swinging is all about variety. I was not sure that I could manage another ejaculation, but keeping it up has never been a problem for me, so I was sure that I could keep Corinne entertained. Besides, I wanted the comfort of the bed. We coupled in all positions, she sucked my cock nicely and was able to wank me vigorously without fear of me spilling accidentally. She delighted me by giving me a display of female masturbation which was educational as well as stimulating. She eventually suggested that I “Fuck her tits.” Which I did with pleasure, rewarding her with a small pearl necklace of watery spunk. It was almost eleven. Party over. Even if there had been more time I was out of juice. When we returned to the lounge, only Corinne’s partner Tom and at last, Alex, remained. The rest had gone. On the drive home, as with our previous ‘swing’, Alex was quiet. And again it was me who broke the silence. “Well?” I asked. “Well what?” “How did you get on.” “You mean, how many pricks did I have.” “Alright, how many pricks did you have?” “All of them.” “What, all six?” “Five.” She corrected. “You were the sixth and I don’t remember you taking a turn. I thought that was the idea, to taste all of the dishes, like a Chinese meal. I did have one of them three times though, so if we are going by numbers, I had seven. Did you not have all the women?” She knew perfectly well that I could not have managed that many ejaculations. I said so. “You did not need to come every time, you could have dry poked them.” She countered. She was right of course, it had not occurred to me. “Did all of yours come?” I asked. “I can’t be sure, they were all bagged up.” Bagged up? Where had that come from? For the rest of the journey, it was me that was quiet. I was jealous. And a bit annoyed that she had outscored me. I knew that it was not a competition, but I was still peeved. Later, in bed, I asked if she had found a prospective threesome partner. After all, that was why we went in the first place. She had. She thought that Alan would be suitable. He was the one who had fucked her three times, so he was obviously keen. He was also available. He was married, but his wife had been badly injured in a car accident. She could not have sex. The ‘club’ was the only place he got it. His wife had a nurse during the daytime, he looked after her evenings and nights, his only break being when her sister took over for one evening per week. Club evening. The problem was, Alex had not asked him for his number! The next day, I rang the parlour several times from work, but it was always engaged. The day after that it was the same. I decided to finish work early and call in. Vicky was in attendance. She laughed at the idea of giving me the number. “Three reasons why not:” She said. “1: We do not keep records. 2: Alan was probably not his real name, most people used a ‘Nom de fuck.’ 3: Even if records were kept, it would be unethical to reveal them.” (An ethical brothel?) However, he rarely missed a club night, why not come next Saturday and ask him myself? I accepted the offered cup of coffee and sat sipping it at the bar. Two of the ladies of the house were in the lounge, it being a bit early for the evening rush. One of the two was Gemma. She did not normally work days, but the girl who let us down on Saturday had been sacked, Gemma was standing in until a replacement could be found. Both of the girls were scantily clad, Gemma in a white basque, stark against her dark skin. The other girl, of similar build, was wearing a black basque. Both equally enticing. The big screen was showing a white girl being ‘spit-roasted’ by two massively endowed black studs. Suddenly, I felt horny. Why not? I thought. The girls were there to be fucked and I still felt the need to catch up on Alex. I paid my £50 and chose Gemma. This time I chose to finish in her lovely cunt and after she had sucked me almost to the point of no return, fucked her vigorously from behind, standing. I told Alex that we would have to pay a return visit if we were to make contact with Alan. She did not fancy going again, although she had enjoyed the sex, she had found the place a bit shabby. But I could go alone. Besides, she said, I had some catching up to do. I never did tell her that I had already started.
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Written by Robinson

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