Club Crème

by Primula Bond

  Mr Hall was standing behind his blonde ‘sister’ now, one hand in his trousers, and I could see the thick bulge of his erection straining at his zip. There were only the three of us present, and the barman, who was staring into space at the other end of the bar, polishing one wine glass over and over again as if he was hypnotised.

  ‘Better and better,’ the woman breathed. She turned to look at her brother. ‘The people here are high quality, aren’t they? I’m getting horny. Is it OK to talk like this, do you think, Jezzie? After all, you are the new boy.’

  Mr Hall’s eyes veered past me for a moment, as if he was casing the joint, or as if he was checking the score with an invisible umpire. A flicker of uncertainty went through me, and I fingered my lapel to pull it closed. I wondered if I should consult the barman, or check the club rules, if there were any. Then again, although I knew the woman had mischief up her sleeve, I didn’t yet know what exactly she meant by ‘fun’. So long as it didn’t involve drugs or disaster, what was there to stop?

  In any case I wasn’t one to back out of something that looked intriguing, and these two had a plan. As if in answer to my thoughts, Mr Hall’s grin stretched wider and he nodded again.

  ‘Quite all right, sis. I’ve got the OK from on high. We’re free to do whatever we like. It’s why I joined this particular club.’

  The woman’s tongue poked between her white teeth as she stood up again and brushed very long, white fingers across the swell of my breasts. Her tongue slicked back and forth across her lips, her hard blue eyes sparking with excitement.

  ‘Then those on high should think about changing the club’s name to Liberty Hall,’ she remarked very quietly, stretching her hand towards my tits. ‘Because I intend to take every liberty going.’

  ‘That would give it away, though, wouldn’t it?’ the barman observed from his end of the bar, and we all jumped. We’d forgotten he was there. The blonde woman snatched her hand away from where it had been about to caress my left nipple.

  But she’d started something now. There was a devil hopping about inside me. And the weird thing was that the barman’s sturdy presence, and his only comment, just excited me more, gave me the green light to carry on where the blonde had left off. I wasn’t about to stop now unless someone marched in and arrested me.

  ‘Oh, don’t mind him. He’s here to pour drinks,’ I said, pulling my camisole aside and refusing to catch the barman’s eye. I knew I was echoing the woman’s imperious tone, and I liked it. ‘Please feel free to continue.’

  One nipple popped out. Still nobody moved, but all eyes were on me now. I took another risk. My other nipple tipped over the edge of lace. The blonde and Mr Hall leaned towards each other very slightly. I pinched my nipples out into red points, relishing the unveiled lust in their eyes. My nipples were still sore with rubbing against Mimi’s earlier, but the soreness made everything all the more intoxicating. The barman carried on polishing his glass.

  ‘You never told me the club was this good,’ murmured the woman to her brother, half clinging to his sleeve, but straining at the leash as well. Then she turned to me. ‘So, who are you?’

  I inched my bar stool closer to hers and, as I did so, my groin rubbed against the seat, sending a shock of excitement through me. Tentatively, hoping that no one would see, I rubbed myself across the seat again while I decided what to tell her. There was the shock again, hotter this time, urging for more. My tight skirt rode further and further up until the suspenders and then my knickers were visible. The other woman tottered slightly on her high heels, and balanced herself on her own stool.

  ‘I’m here to keep an eye on things,’ I told her. My voice was thick with excitement. ‘And to make guests and members all feel welcome.’

  Still challenging her, in amazement at myself more than anything else, I started rubbing myself very slowly back and forth across the leather seat, locking the heels of my shoes on to the foot bars. This way I could raise myself slightly off the stool so that my pubes were only just making contact. This was private pleasure. This was something I could and did treat myself to whenever and wherever I wanted: on a plane, on a bus, in a cab, in a restaurant, in the library, wherever there were people close enough to see.

  Usually no one could tell what I was doing – that was half the fun – but now I saw that the ice woman was watching the slow sliding of my fanny.

  ‘Ah, so you belong here. You’re a member of staff. An employee. A servant, even. In other words, you’re paid to allow us carte blanche to do whatever we please,’ she said. Her voice petered out in a little gasp as she grabbed the seat of her own stool, and started to copy me, pushing her bottom hard back across the seat, and forwards again. The tiny muscles in my pussy were really convulsing now. I wondered if in fact they’d ever stopped twitching since I had left Mimi’s bedroom.

  ‘A servant? I can be a servant if you want me to be,’ I said, my voice sinking lower. My brain wasn’t interested in engaging just now. Everything was focussing far, far lower down. ‘But it’s more accurate to say I’m certainly at your service. Night and day.’

  Dampness started seeping through my knickers as the silk wrinkled away from my pussy. The blonde liked my answer. She nodded and bit her lip hard as she rubbed herself faster. I felt the cool leather meeting my sex lips and I nearly squealed out loud as they spread open, my little clit peeping out and retracting as it, too, made contact with the hard seat. I knew the blonde woman could tell what was happening. I wanted her to see my knickers in the shadow of my skirt, and she was gyrating her own hips on her seat, grinning at me, both of us in a private circle of excitement.

  All at once she jerked upright. ‘Oh, I’m so horny now, Jez. See what she’s doing to me? Is she doing it to you?’ she said.

  Mr Hall, standing behind her and watching me, had stopped grinning. He was breathing heavily and I wanted to match my breathing with his, match it with the pulsating rhythm tantalising my cunt.

  ‘Yeah,’ is all he could manage to say. ‘I’m ready.’

  ‘Jez? Now’s the time. Tell him. I need fucking.’

  I thought she was talking to me. ‘Jez. The lady needs fucking,’ I yelped obediently. ‘But Jez? So do I.’

  Her precious Jez had been lusting after me, surely, not her. But he looked away from me, undid her white jacket and pulled it open. She was wearing nothing underneath, not even a bra, and her small breasts were like white apples, cute against her thin frame. He lifted her off the stool so that she was standing, and edged her trousers down her hips. His hands were round in front of her and, with two thick fingers, he parted her startling, completely shaved pubes so that her crack was a sudden red. One of his fingers disappeared inside her and I gasped, rubbing myself more frantically as droplets of desire moistened the stool.

  ‘What are you doing, Jez?’ shrieked his supposed sister as Mr Hall pulled the ice blonde woman round behind her stool and bent her over it. ‘I meant him, not you!’

  ‘Who are you talking about? There’s just the three of us, so I shouldn’t complain if I were you,’ I murmured as she kept jabbing her finger in my direction. ‘You’re the lucky one. I’ll just have to do this for myself.’ I grabbed my crotch and thrust my fingers against my clit, desperate to bring myself off.

  ‘OK, OK.’ The blonde’s voice was shivering as Mr Hall started mercilessly to finger-fuck her. ‘Do whatever you want, Jez. But I want to see her getting it, too.’

  My fingers, circling across my pleasure button, were an echo of what his were doing to her and were stirring up delicious tremors of excitement. I would frisk myself in front of them, I thought, pleasure myself while they went at it. That would be almost as exciting as getting myself properly seen to.

  But there was someone else in the room with us after all. I thought she’d been hallucinating but now whoever she’d been pointing at was behind me, taking me and pulling me backwards by the waist, making me slide wetly off the seat. I was forced to tumble backwards. I couldn’t see who was man
handling me. As I tried to grab on to something to get my balance, I looked up and down the bar. The barman had been the only other person in here. One clean glass and his cloth lay at the far end of the room, but the barman had vanished.

  ‘Who is this?’ I tried to ask, twisting about. I realised I didn’t know the barman’s name. ‘It must be you, barman?’

  There was no answer. The blonde didn’t hear me. Mr Hall couldn’t help. I was roughly pushed forwards. My sore nipples brushed the leather seat, then my breasts were squashed as someone bent me further over so that my bottom was tilted in the air, my skirt right round my waist. My silk knickers stuck unevenly to me, dark and soaking with my own juices.

  ‘I’d say you’re the lucky one, lady,’ my new friend whispered to me as Mr Hall bent her over in the same way.

  My face was up close to hers, close enough to kiss. Why am I the lucky one? I wondered. I looked at her mouth, her madly staring eyes. I didn’t want to kiss her. Kissing Mimi, the first woman I’d ever kissed, had been too glorious to repeat so soon. But I still wanted to see what was going to happen to the blonde. The music seemed to be getting louder. All I could see were my two companions, the wooden bar and my stool. Mr Hall still had one hand rubbing at her pussy, but the other was unzipping his trousers. I couldn’t wait for him to take his suit off. I wanted to see him naked, or at least in a pair of muddy shorts.

  ‘Because you’ve got the jackpot, bitch,’ she said, as a colossal cock came thumping out of Mr Hall’s flies, already pumping and jumping. He grabbed it as if to quell it, and held it lovingly for a moment as he rubbed the round, purple knob over the ice woman’s bottom. She moaned, biting her lips and stretching her throat.

  As I gaped at the enormous cock about to plunge into her and wondered where this jackpot was coming from, my knickers were suddenly peeled aside and my own warm, throbbing sex-lips were pulled open. I felt a smooth long shaft nudging under my buttocks and edging towards my cunt. I gripped the stool as the unseen prick circled blindly round. It brushed over my clit, making me jerk backwards. I wasn’t going to stop him. I was ready to take the milkman, the traffic warden, anyone.

  ‘Promise not to tell,’ I said over my shoulder, as the invisible cock nudged at me. ‘I’m sorry if I insulted you earlier, but you are just here to pour the drinks. God knows what Mimi will have to say when she hears I’ve been screwed by the barman.’

  He didn’t reply, just shoved harder.

  ‘The barman! Oh, that’s good. That’s very good,’ the other woman said and started to cackle, but then a hectic flush suffused her white cheeks as she was suddenly thrown forwards, her face brushing mine. Mr Hall slammed into her.

  ‘And that’s very good, too,’ I said breathlessly, slowly gyrating my hips, the hidden cock following my movements, hovering just outside my crack. ‘Talk about in your face. Brother and sister, didn’t you say? Doing it, right here in the club . . . Perhaps I should be putting a stop to all this. What do you think, barman? It’s all getting pretty kinky.’

  ‘And who started it, eh?’ she breathed into my ear. ‘Butter wouldn’t melt a minute ago, would it? But now look at you. Who are you to put a stop to anything?’

  And then she was pulled back as if sucked by a tide. I watched her bucking back and forth across the hard little stool, her small tits bunching and swinging over the edge of the seat. Her mouth was open and her eyes were blue and unblinking, fixed on mine. Mr Hall tensed his buttocks as he started to fuck her in earnest. Her face was eerily calm, but there were high, keening cries coming from her as he pumped her, his hands round her waist, his jacket, shirt and tie still tidy, though his neck bulged as if it wanted to burst out of his collar.

  As he speeded up his rhythm, his sister suddenly looked up at the invisible man behind me and said at him, ‘What are you waiting for? If I can’t have you this time, she may as well enjoy it.’

  I’d been so aroused by watching them rutting that I was only dimly aware of the shaft of male muscle edging its way carefully inside me, getting deeper and deeper. All at once the man behind me grabbed my hips and pulled me against his groin. The force of his action made me realise that my legs had become like jelly. I couldn’t have resisted or got away even if I’d wanted to. My knickers, which kept sticking to various parts of me, were wrenched aside, and then a long hard cock was at me like a missile, pushing over my eager clitoris. Then, cruelly, he pulled back again, leaving spirals of hot desire in his wake. He circled his knob around me, teasing me, then plunged straight in, throwing me forwards.

  ‘Gotta keep up,’ gasped the ice blonde, as we rocked towards each other.

  ‘Just watch me,’ I flashed back.

  The metal feet of my stool scraped across the floor as my legs were spread wider. My forehead knocked against her bare shoulder. I could hear her starting to groan as I raced to catch up with her. Wild, fierce lust climbed through me, jagged and sharp and violent, goading me onwards in this wild display. I heard myself crying out like she had done, my hands scrabbling to keep a hold of the madly rocking stool. Her cheek rubbed my cheek before she started to build towards her own climax right into my face. The sight of her must have spurred on my unseen lover, as it was only a couple of seconds before he reached his own, spurting climax.

  The two men withdrew as if by a secret signal to pack their sated cocks back inside their suit trousers. The ice woman and I remained slumped on our elbows across our stools, close enough to kiss as the pleasure faded and our energy struggled to return. I closed my eyes eventually and let myself collapse for a moment, my legs splaying out like a colt’s, my arms still imprisoned in my jacket.

  ‘Bravo, lady.’

  I stood up. The woman was sitting up on the stool again, her bare legs crossed and the champagne glass in her hand. She had the white jacket on, but not the trousers. Mr Hall was leaning his arms on the bar, his shoulders heaving as if he’d run a marathon.

  ‘On the house,’ I replied, rather pleased with my retort. I looked eagerly round. The barman was back, flicking cocktail glasses into a pyramid formation as if nothing had happened.

  ‘Meet your fuck for the night,’ the woman said in a brittle voice, waving her glass and looking past me. Mr Hall’s head swung up, and he tapped her on the shoulder to hush her. I swivelled round. The man who had taken me from behind was not flicking cocktail glasses. He was fiddling with the knot of a red silk tie, and reaching for a champagne glass. He nodded slowly at me, his blue eyes like lasers. His face had no expression, neither approval or disapproval.

  Bang goes my job, I thought. Blown it on my first night. A trickle of juice tickled my inner thigh. My knees were threatening to buckle completely beneath me. I clutched the stool for support.

  ‘Er, good evening, Sir Simeon,’ I mumbled, falling backwards on to the seat and yanking my skirt back over my legs. How silly. He’d just shot his load inside me. What was the point of trying to hide my legs? I racked my brain to remember Mimi’s instructions, but there was nothing there about shagging. Shagging anyone. Shagging club members. Shagging the staff. Shagging the boss . . .

  I scrabbled for my shoes. I thought I’d better make my exit before I was thrown out. Sir Simeon leaned towards me. I thought he was going to bawl me out.

  ‘Please, finish your drink,’ he said in my ear. I wanted to die with gratitude.

  The ice blonde woman wasn’t smiling at me any more. She tipped the rest of her champagne in a pale shower straight down her throat and tapped her glass on the bar for more. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife. The barman looked from one to the other of us hopefully, no doubt expecting fireworks and, on an unseen signal, he popped the cork of another champagne bottle.

  ‘I didn’t have her down as your type, Simeon,’ the woman remarked sharply, as Sir Simeon took the champagne from the barman and started to recharge our glasses with another bottle. ‘I didn’t know you liked them red haired and busty? Exhibitionist hussies, who don’t even look round to see who’s doing them?’
/>   I flushed then, my cheeks burning.

  ‘I’m not like that at all,’ I started to say, buttoning up my jacket. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before.’

  ‘You could have fooled me, encouraging us like that, showing us your wares,’ she snapped. ‘You looked like a pro.’

  ‘You wanted me to go on,’ I retorted, because it was true. ‘You can’t deny the lust in your eyes when you saw me. I thought you and I – I thought we were in it together. You told him to fuck me.’

  There was a nasty silence. She couldn’t deny it, surely?

  ‘And anyway,’ I ploughed on, ‘what does it matter what part I played? You got your brother. I would have thought that was enough for anyone! So we all got something out of it.’

  She tossed her head and bit her lip for a moment as she glared at me. ‘I don’t think you should speak back to your clients, sorry, your members, like that, do you?’ she asked.

  ‘Avril, you can cool it now,’ Sir Simeon said. His voice was calm but deadly. The effect of a gunshot. ‘Everything Miss Summers does in my presence is with my approval. I gave your . . . Mr Hall the nod earlier, too. As Miss Summers says, surely everyone is happy? A little flabbergasted by events, perhaps, but happy?’

  My heart lurched as the penny dropped. Avril . . . the woman at the meet. She was a member, or at least the wife of a member. Mrs Grey. The special guest. But what was she doing here without her husband? Mimi had said nothing about this.

  ‘I’m sorry, Simeon. I was just carried away. It’s the atmosphere of your marvellous club, you see. It’s magical.’ Avril was starting to grovel. She took out a silver compact and widened her eyes into the mirror. She glanced at me over the top of it. ‘And you were carried away, too, Simeon. You were supposed to ignore my command. I thought special guests got special privileges? And you were the special privilege I had in mind.’

  ‘I had other plans, I’m afraid,’ Sir Simeon replied, tapping me very lightly on the cheek. ‘This one was ready for her own initiation, you see. I understand that someone prevented her from carrying out her duties properly yesterday at Symes Hall. How is your foot, by the way, Miss Summers?’