WHATEVER THE LADIES OF the Fantasy Guild (adjunct group to The Ladies Naughty Book Club) thought the first sex report might be in their newly-formed organization, it wasn’t what they got from Jasmine the night she delivered up her account of the high stakes poker game. It was seriously, exponentially better.
Not a member was absent when Jasmine settled into her easy seat of honor and began her tale, nor were they likely to be in the future, not if other reports were as titillating as this one proved to be. Even the members who expected to be scandalized and appalled couldn’t manage an iota of indignation. No. Jasmine’s story was far too arousing for that.
Their naughty books generally excited them, but those books were nothing to this true story from someone they personally knew. And the idea that they themselves could partake, if they dared, in something similar, was enough to send them racing home for some attention from their husbands, boyfriends or vibrators, as the individual cases may have been.
Jasmine was an excellent storyteller. She described the men in great detail, what they looked like, how they acted, how they were different and each one lovely and fuckable in their own way. Some of the ladies lusted inside for the young pair, Kyle and Sean, others for the commanding and dominant Sir, some for the mysterious Michael. No one really considered Geoff.
Geoff had gotten short-shrift in Jasmine’s recount of her suitors. It wasn’t that she didn’t appreciate the role he played. No, in fact, he was her headliner. She simply didn’t speak much of him, or describe him too fully, because she didn’t want the other women becoming too interested in him.
She glanced around the avid group of women, continuing her sexy story. “Then I said, ‘Hold me, and don’t let me go.’”
Several women sighed.
“Oh, and did they ... let go?” asked Cynthia, her eyes sparkling.
“They did not,” answered Jasmine. “I can’t describe what it’s like to have two men hold you down while another one fucks you and another one is touching you all over. It’s beyond anything.”
Ooh, was the response from more than one woman.
“And you weren’t scared?” asked young Layla.
“No,” said Jasmine. “Not once. Maybe I should have been, but it just wasn’t frightening. They always made me feel protected, even when they weren’t all that gentle.”
“Just the right balance of rough and tender,” said Cynthia, practically swooning.
“Exactly,” said Jasmine.
“What happened next?” asked Margie.
“They fucked me.”
“All of them? Again?”
“No, all of them except Geoff and Sir.”
“Good God!” said Margie. “Were you able to walk afterward?”
Jasmine laughed. “Yes, I was sore, still am some, but I can walk fine.”
The room fell quiet as the ladies recalled everything Jasmine had recounted about her evening. Some imagined they had the nerve to do what she had done, others simply imagined they were her.
As for Jasmine herself, she drifted off into her own thoughts, her own memories of what happened after Michael, Sean and Kyle finished fucking her that final time.
She lay on the bed, sprawled in an utterly unladylike heap of satisfied wantonness. After the men got dressed, they said their goodbyes.
They kissed her gently on the lips, one after another, their hands straying over her well-handled breasts and mound, her stomach and ass. They parted with reluctance, it seemed, though a satiated reluctance.
Sir was next-to-last to leave. He brushed her hair from her forehead and smiled at her.
“You know,” he said, “I’m available should you decide you want to do this again.”
“You’ll be the first one I call.”
He glanced over at Geoff who sat leaning against the headboard. “Most likely, you mean the second one you’ll call.”
She followed his gaze to the resting, handsome man. “Yeah, you’re right. Second.”
“I’ll take it.” Sir leaned down over her and kissed her softly, sweetly. He touched her lower lip and lightly pinched its plumpness between his thumb and forefinger. “Perhaps next time I can acquaint you with some more new pleasures. For instance, have you ever had a thorough spanking?”
She shivered slightly and shook her head.
“Then,” he said, “we should make that a priority.”
He kissed her once more, said his farewells to her and to Geoff, and quietly left the room.
She lay sprawled on the bed, and neither Geoff nor she spoke until they heard the door of the suite close behind Sir.
“Come here,” Geoff said.
She turned lazily toward him. “I don’t know if I have the strength.”
“Find it.”
She smiled and did indeed find the strength to scoot up the bed and flop down on her side next to him, her head resting against his warm, smooth chest. He held her close, one arm wrapping around her, his hand cupping one of her ass cheeks.
She wrapped her own arm around his waist. She looked down at his crotch, at the rock hard cock standing up proud and solid.
“I don’t know why you won’t take me again,” she said.
He took a long breath. “You’re sore.”
“It doesn’t matter. I want to.”
“You only think you do. You’re in a sex fog right now.”
She giggled. “A sex fog? There’s no such thing.”
“The hell there isn’t. You’re lost in the middle of it.”
“Oh, well, in that case, I had no idea that fog is so much fun.”
He snorted lightly. “You’re obviously not thinking clearly.”
“If I’m so far gone, why didn’t you stop me from fucking the others again?”
“I thought you’d be okay.”
“But not okay enough to fuck you again.”
“Hell. You’re right. Maybe I’m the one not thinking straight.” He riffled a hand through his hair. “Maybe I should take you right now.”
“Mmm. Yes, please.”
“It would serve you right if you couldn’t walk for a week.”
“I’m fine. Fuck me, Geoff.” She looked up at him, the innocent look of a supplicant on her face.
He groaned. Then his expression changed. He grew, what ... naughty?
His hand, the one that had been cupping her ass, slipped lower, passed over her crack and down between her legs. She was still sopping wet, she knew. He dipped into her moisture, gathering it on his fingers.
She fidgeted in consternation as his hand rose a critical inch or two and his fingers dived into her ass crack, seeking her asshole. This again? Damn. Without other stuff going on, she didn’t know about this.
He held her gaze, his eyes a dark pool of mischievous lust. His fingertips probed at her clenched hole. “You’re pussy may be sore, but you’ve hardly been used here.”
“No way. You’re not fucking me there. I’m not —”
His barking laugh cut her short. “You should see your face.”
“It’s not funny. I’m serious.”
“So am I.” And, without further adieu, he rammed his two, slick fingers inside her ass.
She squeaked, twisted, tried to push away. He held her firm, though, his other arm coming around to hold her in place.
“Don’t get upset,” he said. “I’m not going to fuck your ass. Not tonight anyway. Or at least, not with my cock. But you can’t complain about a few fingers can you? That’s not so bad and you did say you wanted me to fuck you.”
“My pussy. I meant my pussy.”
“Is this really that bad?”
His fingers slid inside her, a gentle motion which, while unfamiliar and vaguely disturbing, was not uncomfortable.
“I guess not,” she said.
“Good. Because it’s hot as hell for me. You can’t imagine what you feel like. So tight and hot, smooth. It drives me crazy.”
A twitch jerked in her belly. “You like it that much, huh?”
“Absolutely. I’d like it more if I could see it.”
She knew what she would do then, what would make him happiest and what would please her, too. So she changed positions, careful all the while not to dislodge his fingers from inside her.
In a few moments, she crouched over him, her lips mere inches from his cock, her ass in the air, facing him, his fingers stretching her ass.
She cherished his groan as her mouth closed over the head of his dick.
“Yes, baby. Oh God. Yes,” he mumbled, his fingers moving inside her, his cock twitching against her lips.
She licked off the salty drop of pre-cum and kissed her way down the sides of his shaft. She cupped his balls in her hand and gently rolled them against one another.
His free hand found her clit and rubbed it.
When she took him into her mouth and sucked him as deep and as far as she could go into the back of her mouth, she reveled in his groan of delight.
“That feels so good,” he said. “And you should see my fingers in your ass. God. I see it and all I can think of is how my cock is going to look, pressed up against that tight hole of yours.”
She shuddered. How it is going to look, as if it would happen some time, not that it might. That it definitely would.
“You have the prettiest asshole I’ve ever seen,” he said. “And I’m going to stretch it wide. I can’t wait. Your ass spreading open for me, forcing my way into those tight depths. Fuck!”
His fingers pistoned in and out of her. She sucked his cock down and moaned at the sensations of him inside her, of his other actions over her sensitive bud of a clit.
“We’ll need an audience, of course,” he said, his voice gravel-like in quality. “How many men will be enough witnesses for you? You’ll love it then, that I’m fucking your virgin ass. You’ll love it if others are there to watch. Hell, I’ll love it, too.”
He was right. She would love it. She felt a fresh flood of dampness between her legs at his words. How many men? Watching him fuck her ass? Oh God.
He fucked. She sucked. And soon, they both came hard, both in the moment and somewhere else at the same time. Both imagining and yet appreciating this time and these actions for what they were. Yearning and satisfied all at once.
She shook her head and shifted in her chair, remembering where she was. Not in bed with Geoff. That was the past.
Right now, she was in a room full of women, all present and accounted for, all staring at her with quizzical looks on their faces. The Fantasy Guild.
Cynthia frowned. “You’re not telling us something. I know it. You were a million miles away.”
Several other women chimed in, agreeing with her.
Jasmine waved her hand at them. “I told you everything you need to know. That’s enough.”
“Ooh,” said Margie. “A mystery. What does it mean?”
“It doesn’t mean anything. Well, actually, it means that I gave my report, but that not everything is for public consumption. Some things, believe it or not, are private.”
“Damn, that sucks,” said Freya.
They laughed. Deep down, they understood that some things were private. In reality, most of them were in awe of how open Jasmine had been, how much she admitted.
“Okay, it’s getting late,” said Margie. “Let’s have a last word from our tester. What is your final analysis of your first and only gangbang?”
Jasmine smiled and considered the question for a moment. It was a tough one because of everything the experience had been, and because of what it might still prove to be. With Geoff.
“I think,” she began, “that it was one of the best things I’ve ever done. I feel lucky that it went the way it did, that the men were who they were. They never made me feel dirty, or at least, not dirty in a bad way.”
The ladies grinned.
“I felt desired more than I ever have,” she continued. “I didn’t once think about how I don’t like my thighs, or my stomach, or any of that sort of stuff. Who could think about not measuring up when it was so obvious that these men, all of them, found no fault with me? They seemed to think I was flawless. That alone was beyond price”
Her hair had fallen over her forehead and she brushed it away. “But what I’ll recall most is the way they said goodbye. They didn’t think worse of me because I fucked them all. They accepted me, as a sexual person. Like themselves. No judgment. No hang-ups from another age. They were happy and grateful, and they adored me. That’s my last memory of them, and what I’ll remember forever.”
The ladies watched her with soft expressions. A few small sighs sounded around the circle.
Jasmine was content that she had given an honest accounting of her night. She may have left out a few details, but the last part there, about what turned out to be most important to her, that was everything. The crucial point had been made.
She thought about what waited for her after the meeting.
Geoff was holding a table for them at a nearby restaurant. It would be their second date since the poker game. If it went anything like the first, then she would be having a delightful evening.
“So,” she said, clapping her hands together once in finality, “it’s time to bring this first meeting of the Fantasy Guild to a close. There’s only one question left to answer.”
She looked at each woman in the circle. They watched her with curiosity, awaiting the final question, the one that required an answer if there were to be a second meeting of the Fantasy Guild. The ladies leaned forward, expectantly.
And Jasmine asked the question.
“Who’s next?”
If you enjoyed this short story and would like to receive information about Anwen’s new releases, please sign up for her newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/BHn1n
Read on for a sample of
Pamela and the Hired Hands