My Boyfriend's Boyfriends

by Primula Bond

  Tony raised a single eyebrow. It gave his face the questioning expression that always reminded her of Roger Moore. Even the tone of his voice had the sardonic twist that she associated with the star of her favourite old Bond films.

  ‘I thought you were doing the red room last month?’ Tony asked.

  ‘That was my intention –’

  ‘And you’d said you were going to do it the month before –’

  ‘– it’s not always easy to stick to a plan at Club K –’

  ‘– and the month before that, if my memory serves –’

  ‘I’m doing the red room tonight,’ Helen broke in. She spoke with enough finality to end the conversation. ‘It doesn’t matter what I’ve said previously. And it doesn’t matter whether or not I’ve stuck by what I’ve said. I’m definitely doing it tonight.’

  The abruptness in her tone was measured. She didn’t want to cause an argument as they entered Club K. Few things were more likely to spoil the pleasure of a night’s swinging than a bout of pointless matrimonial bickering prior to entering the premises of their favourite club for adventurous couples. Prior experience had taught her that much and she wanted Tony to know that the subject was no longer open for debate. She had made up her mind that she would be visiting the red room this evening and she had no intention of discussing the matter further, especially if he was going to cast doubt on her plans.

  ‘You look absolutely radiant tonight,’ he told her, after signing the guestbook at the door. His smile was conciliatory. His tone was softened by the suggestion of an apology. ‘If you get up to the red room this evening I’m sure you’ll have a wonderful time, and I shall want to hear all about it afterwards.’

  Graciously, Helen kissed her husband’s cheek. Had she still been in a mood to bicker, she might have pointed out that he was wrong to use the word ‘if’. There was no doubt in her mind that she would be visiting the red room this evening. She fully intended to go there and tell him all about the experience on the way home. Instead of arguing for the sake of arguing, Helen ushered Tony to go to meet the friends he had promised to contact, and she urged him to enjoy his evening. It seemed only fair to wish him that much because she was adamant that she would enjoy her night in the club.

  The air inside Club K was rich with perfume and anticipation. Helen thought it would be possible to get drunk on the heady cocktail of fragrances that she caught with every breath. She could almost taste of the excitement of two dozen aroused couples desperate to break boundaries and explore like-minded peers. She glanced around the milling couples, and the occasional stray single, and decided she wanted a vodka before she took herself up to the red room. She believed the familiarity of the drink would help to soothe her nerves and calm the fractious mood that had been brought on by her near-argument with Tony.

  ‘Are you here alone?’

  ‘I came with my husband,’ she admitted, before looking up. ‘But he and I try to experience this place without each other.’

  The question had come from a swarthy stranger. Tall. Dark hair. Dark eyes. A smile that was confident without being arrogant. He gallantly paid for the vodka she had ordered and appraised her with a slow smile and a languid gaze.

  Helen patiently sipped at her drink, enjoying the experience of being studied. She reflected that it was only at a swingers’ bar that a man could spend his time openly examining a woman without the attention being considered unwanted or intrusive. It was one of the many features that made Club K her favourite venue for a night out.

  The stranger’s gaze went from her smile, to the cleavage displayed by her low top, to the cinched waist of her skirt and then the shapely length of her stocking-clad legs. Helen knew he was considering whether she was sufficiently attractive to be a casual sex partner and she felt confident he would find her desirable. The thought sent a small jolt of pleasure flourishing through her veins. Her smile grew steadily broader.

  ‘You and your husband come here together but you play separately? How does that work?’

  Helen shrugged.

  She wondered if he was genuinely interested or simply making polite conversation while he worked out the best way to make a move. She supposed she didn’t mind why he had asked the question: he was going to get the same honest answer.

  ‘Tony likes to play with couples. He’s hung, so most couples enjoy having him play with them.’

  She held her hands sixteen inches apart. It was an exaggeration but only a slight exaggeration. Tony was one of the largest men she had ever met.

  The stranger grinned.

  ‘Personally, I come to Club K because I get bored easily,’ she confided. It was the reason why she and Tony had first decided to consider swinging. The chance to meet new people and try new things had held an irresistible attraction for Helen. ‘Whenever we come to Club K, I try to experiment.’ She grinned shyly at the stranger and said, ‘I try to do something a little different from what I could expect to enjoy at home.’

  He smiled as though they were sharing a joke.

  ‘And neither of you minds the other playing out of sight?’

  Helen shook her head. ‘We’re only fucking people,’ she explained. ‘It’s not like we’re being unfaithful.’

  He grinned with her, his gaze returning briefly to her cleavage.

  His eyes seemed to grow wider as he studied her chest.

  If they played, Helen knew this man would give her breasts unmitigated attention. His mouth would devour her nipples and she guessed he would suck and nibble and tease until the pleasure was unbearable. The thought made her inner muscles clench with wanton hunger. Even though that wasn’t what she wanted this evening – she was adamant she would enjoy the pleasures of the red room – her stomach still tightened into a knot of raw desire.

  Casually, she led him towards the comfortable collection of armchairs and settees in the dimly lit corner of the club, away from the over-bright illumination of the bar. It was early in the evening but there were already a few of the familiar Club K clientele occupying the seats.

  Helen was pleased that the stranger chose to sit next to her. His unfamiliar body pressed close. She could smell him and was refreshed by the scent of his clean flesh and the undertone of warm, musky arousal. If they were later naked together, Helen knew that aroma would be more intense as their bodies writhed in rhythmic unison.

  ‘How were you planning to experiment this evening?’ he asked.

  She hesitated and then glanced towards the doorway at the far end of the bar.

  It led to the stairs and the rooms on the floor above.

  It led up to the red room.

  As she watched the doorway two couples slipped out of the bar and started up the stairs. Even from across the room, Helen could see the shine in their eyes and the nervous excitement tightening their smiles. Familiar with the environment, she realised she was staring at two pairs of newbies. Her knowledge of Club K told her that they wouldn’t be braving the orgiastic chaos of the red room. More likely they would be going to one of the private rooms on the upper floors for the open intimacy of a foursome.

  Her pussy throbbed in empathy. She remembered the fun of her first experiences at Club K. Although she no longer got the same thrill from playing with couples that Tony still enjoyed, she hoped the newbie couples she was watching got the same level of satisfaction she continued to reap from playing at Club K. It was a lifestyle that was so pleasurable it bordered on being addictive.

  ‘This evening?’ the stranger prompted.

  Helen realised she hadn’t answered his question. She graced him with an apologetic expression.

  ‘How were you planning to experiment?’

  ‘I wanted to take a trip to the red room.’

  He whistled soft approval. ‘Have you been there before?’

  She shook her head. ‘I know what goes on in there,’ she added quickly. ‘I’ve heard all the stories.’

  He paused for a moment, considering her with the same intensity that had m
ade her shiver earlier. He raised a finger, as if to say something, and then let his hand fall in silence. His fingers lay against the rise of her stocking-clad knee. The sensation of his lightweight touch inspired a tingle of delicious electricity. Helen could feel her nipples grow taut inside the restrictive confines of her bra.

  It was not an unpleasant sensation.

  She smiled for him.

  ‘I can picture you in the red room,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Is it a good picture?’

  He chuckled. His hand inched slightly upwards, gently stroking the silk of her stocking. The pressure of his fingertips alternated between a caress that was whisper-soft and a grip that was powerful and possessive.

  ‘In the scene that I envision, you’re naked and being pleasured by a dozen different men and women. I think that’s a pretty exciting picture.’

  Helen was momentarily lost for words.

  She could easily conjure up the mental image he suggested and it was surprisingly vivid. She wasn’t completely naked. She was still wearing her hold-up stockings. But otherwise she was laid bare on the crimson sheets of the red room’s massive bed. A stranger’s mouth suckled her right breast. A woman’s hand teased her left. Rutting bodies beside her made the bed undulate in a gloriously slow and mechanical rhythm. An unknown cock ploughed between her legs. Unseen fingers stroked and caressed her naked skin. Her mouth worked wet magic around another stranger’s length. The image was so rich in detail she could smell the mildly acidic scent of perspiration and almost taste the chemical flavour of the condom’s lubricant.

  Helen took a sip of vodka to disguise her rising excitement.

  As the drink slipped down her throat she tried not to think about other things she would be swallowing before the end of the evening. That thought inspired a crimson flush to colour her cheeks.

  The stranger’s fingers, she noticed, had almost reached the top of her stocking. They rested just beneath the elasticated band of thick, dark fabric.

  ‘I think you would really enjoy the pleasures to be had in the red room,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll bet it’s something you’ve been longing to experience.’

  The muscles inside her sex throbbed with a sudden and urgent need.

  She adored Club K for many reasons. It was a stylish swingers’ club – the most prestigious she and Tony had ever visited. The presence of the red room invariably made her desperate to sample the manifold pleasures she knew lay on its crimson sheets. But the real reason why she adored Club K was because of the conversations it was possible to enjoy. Nowhere else – nowhere outside the bedroom she shared with Tony – was she able to have such honest and open conversations about her desires and experiences. This was the one place where she could talk frankly about the type of sexual satisfaction she craved.

  ‘I’ve done the occasional threesome,’ she admitted.

  Saying the words made her sex lips wet. Helen never wore panties when she visited a club. Not only did it make some things more convenient and accessible but she had lost too many pairs to think it was worth bothering with panties. On admitting that she had done the occasional threesome, the sudden rush of arousal made her sex moist.

  The air touching her bare cleft turned the liquid cool.

  The sensation was like being kissed by a lewd angel.

  She was sharply aware of the stranger’s fingers teasing their way past the tops of her stockings and touching bare skin. Her heartbeat raced. The residual desire inside her body became an urgent and demanding need.

  ‘Tony and I have hooked up with couples now and again,’ she continued. She struggled to say the words without sounding breathless. Each casual admission brought with it a reminder of powerful and passionate encounters. The first time she’d kissed another woman. The memory of seeing Tony thrusting his massive length into that same woman. The pleasure of having another man push into her anus whilst Tony filled her pussy.

  Each memory was so rich and vivid it drove her close to the brink of climax.

  ‘How about you?’ she asked.

  The stranger’s grin remained unwavering as he shook his head. ‘I’ve been involved in a couple of threeways,’ he admitted. ‘But never a real crowd scene …’

  Helen didn’t know if he said anything after that.

  His fingers had smoothed their way up the bare flesh above her stocking.

  His fingers had traced their way across her upper thigh and lightly touched the molten centre of her sex. She had thought the initial contact of his fingers on her knee had been electric. But it was nothing like the rich thrill of his fingers brushing against her pussy lips. She snatched a staggered breath and savoured the rush of desire flooding her body. The ice in her vodka tinkled musically against the sides of the glass.

  ‘Say again?’ she muttered, sure he had spoken whilst her thoughts had been distracted.

  ‘I said I have a couple of friends who’ve visited the red room. I asked if you wanted me to introduce you to them. I’m sure they’d love to get to know you.’

  His fingertip twitched against her pussy.

  Helen struggled not to be shaken by a paroxysm of pleasure. She briefly considered the idea of telling him to forget about the red room and simply take her upstairs to one of the vacant private rooms so they could explore each other fully for the next couple of hours. But, because she was resolved to experience the red room, Helen resisted that impulse.

  ‘Are those friends of yours here tonight?’

  He raised his free hand in the air. The movement made him apply extra pressure to her sex. While before he had only been teasing the hidden lips, she now felt one finger penetrate the velvet folds. Her pussy muscles clenched hungrily around him as his finger slid inside.

  The jolt of arousal was so strong she had to suppress a groan.

  Three people took the settee facing them.

  Helen flexed a smile of perfunctory welcome, noting a pretty, petite woman sitting between two broad men. As soon as they were seated each of the men placed a hand on the woman’s thigh closest to him. It was possessive, Helen thought, but she was also aware that she had seen much more peculiar behaviour at Club K.

  The woman wore dark leather jeans. They were tight enough to show off her svelte, athletic figure. It was, Helen thought, an impractical outfit for the club. From personal experience she knew that a night at Club K would always be more pleasurable if she was wearing clothes that could be easily removed or conveniently pushed to one side. Whilst tight-fitting leather jeans looked sensational, they came with stiff cumbersome buttons that turned undressing into a frustrating and time-consuming chore.

  ‘We were just discussing the red room,’ Helen’s stranger told the newcomers. ‘You three have been there, haven’t you?’

  ‘It’s the only reason I ever come here,’ the woman said with a giggle. She studied Helen in silence for a moment. ‘Were you wanting to try it out?’

  ‘I was thinking about it.’

  The woman eased herself away from her escorts. She knelt casually on the floor in front of Helen, urged herself between Helen’s spread thighs so she could get closer and pressed her mouth close to Helen’s ear.

  ‘Do you want to know what it’s like?’ she whispered.

  Helen swallowed twice before finding the necessary words. The woman was attractive and dressed in a revealing leather vest that matched her jeans. The black material moulded to the contours of her lithe frame like a second skin. The perfume of her light perspiration touched Helen’s nostrils at the same time as she was struck by the warmth of the woman’s breath against her earlobe.

  A shiver of raw arousal tickled down Helen’s spine.

  ‘I’d like that very much,’ Helen sighed.

  From the corner of her eye she saw another couple had joined them. They were standing because of the lack of seats. But they were watching intently, as though Helen and the woman were involved in an intriguing show.

  ‘It’s like nothing you’ve ever experienced before,’ the wom
an breathed. ‘You’re laid naked on those silky crimson sheets. They’re so soft and smooth you can feel your backside and shoulders sliding against them with every movement. But that’s not the main thing you feel. You feel every gorgeous sensation that’s thrust inside you.’

  Helen tried not to gasp.

  The image was shockingly clear and maddeningly desirable.

  The stranger’s finger remained at her sex, one digit sliding gently in and out, the others teasing the febrile lips of her labia. His thumb brushed lightly over the pulsing surface of her clitoris.

  The leather-clad woman kneeling between Helen’s open thighs was pressed close. Intimately close. Close enough for her chest to be squashed against Helen’s breasts. Helen felt as though she could taste the sexual hunger emanating from the woman’s body. It was a taste that she wanted to savour.

  ‘The last time I was in the red room,’ the woman continued, ‘I was being manhandled by a dozen people. I was being kissed by men and women. I was sucking cock and I was eating pussy.’ She drew a heavy breath and lowered her voice to a sultry whisper. Her lips close to Helen’s ear, she added, ‘There were hands touching every inch of my body – squeezing, stroking and teasing. And I was penetrated. I was penetrated and penetrated and penetrated.’

  Helen closed her eyes and shivered.

  When she opened her eyes she saw that there were more people surrounding them. Another couple stood and watched. A handful of single men waited guardedly on the outer circle of the gathering crowd. One or two of the guys rubbed absently at the erections distorting the front of their trousers. She glimpsed smiles of encouragement and approval, as though everyone around her knew what the woman had whispered.

  ‘I had cock in my mouth,’ the leather-clad woman continued softly. ‘And I don’t think two consecutive minutes went past when I didn’t have a cock between my legs. I even had one sly bloke slip his length into my ass.’

  She shivered and drew herself closer. Helen’s nipples were tormented by the pressure of the woman’s breasts against her chest. It was taking an effort of absolute willpower not to melt against the woman, embrace her and fall into a passionate and promising clinch.