Book Club Orgy - Illustrated

"I need some more wine," Christine said, then looked around to see that everyone's glasses were empty. "Looks like we all do."

She went to her kitchen to grab another bottle, then came back to pour drinks for all her guests... realizing her costume made performing this service very appropriate.

Patrick quipped, "Thanks, Miss," as if she weren't a close friend.

"Your humble maid is here to fulfill all your wishes, sir," Christine joked back.

"I just bet you are," Tori quipped.

"You wish," Christine shot right back.

"Yes, I do wish that," Tori agreed, then after a beat, she added, "So who's next?"

"Not I," Tracy said.

"Patrick, then," Christine decided.

"Why not you?" Patrick countered, nervous about reading the story he'd written.

"Because it's my house, my rules," Christine shrugged.

"That's not very hospitable," he joked, as he pulled a few sheets of paper from of his trousers pocket.

"Read," Tori ordered.

"Fine," he said, shaking his head. "This one isn't as detailed or as nasty as Tori's."

"If it gets too boring, we can make up some smut for you," Tori teased.

"Then why don't you just write it for me?" Patrick complained.

"Just read," Christine said, her pussy still quite wet from the first story, and looking forward to hearing another.

Patrick sighed, "Okayyyy... here goes nothing."

I was mowing my lawn, when Erica pulled into her driveway. She opened her trunk to a bunch of groceries, so I offered, "Need a hand?"

"Sure, darlin'," she said, dressed in a fun, flowery dress and mocha-colored pantyhose... which made her dark legs glimmer.

I grabbed half of the groceries and followed her inside. I placed the bags on her kitchen table, and she offered, "Thirsty?"

"I little," I said, wiping some sweat off my forehead. The day was 90°, and the sun was pounding down.

"I bet that sun won't be the only one doing some pounding," Tori interjected. She'd be happy to spread her legs for him!

"Hey, this is my story," Patrick objected.

"Sorry, just saying," she shrugged.

She poured each of us a cold lemonade and said, "Thanks for the help, you sweet man."

"Oh, it's no problem," I said, automatically glancing down at her nylon-clad legs and feet, as she slipped out of her heels.

"Sorry, but my feet are killing me," she explained.

I offered, "They are? I can give them a massage, if you like."

"Really?" she asked, surprised.

"Yes. I've taken some reflexology courses, so I not only know how to massage your sore spots away, but also how to make all your various organs and other parts of your body feel better, just by addressing your feet," I said, which was true.

"Why have you never told us that?" Tori interrupted again.

"Yes, my feet are always sore, after a long day at the bank," Christine added.

"I always love a nice foot massage," Tracy said, which her husband had done back in the good old days.

"I'll give you each one, if you wish," Patrick offered, since administering three hands-on massages to these three hot nylon-clad women was a very appealing idea.

"Me first," Tori said.

"Me second," Tracy said.

"Let him finish the story first, you vultures," Christine said, before adding, "and since I'm hosting, then I'm the one who gets the first massage."

"Bitch," said two soft female voices in unison.

So we went into her living room. I sat down on the couch, and she sat down, placing her feet in my lap.

I massaged her feet for a few minutes as we chatted about life, before she asked out of the blue, "So Patrick, you have a nylon fetish, right?"

"What? Um, what?"

"You're pretty obvious about it," she said. "My last boyfriend had one too. That's why I started wearing them all the time."

"They do enhance a woman's legs," I said.

"Agreed," she nodded. "They help at work, too."

"I bet," I said. "I bet those tips just come flying in."

"Exactly. Ever had a nylon-clad foot job?" she asked. She placed a foot on my crotch and began rubbing my hard-on through my shorts.

I groaned, "Nooooooo."

"Mmmmmmm," she said, as she spun around and fished out my cock, "I bet you'd really enjoy one."

My eyes went wide as this black beauty grasped my cock and said, "Such a nice cock," before she took it into her mouth.

I groaned, as a woman who wasn't my wife took my dick in her mouth for the first time in over two decades, and nobody at all had for five years.

She bobbed for a couple minutes, before she backed away and wrapped both of her nylon-clad soles around my throbbing penis and said, "Just relax and enjoy, Patrick."

"Okay," I agreed, in awe of both the feeling of her nylons feet on my penis, and because of who was doing it... a beautiful woman, half my age.

"It's either a dick or a cock," Tori interrupted his reading for the third time. "And since the girl is black, it's definitely a dick."

"Unless it's really small," Christine added. "Because small ones aren't very sexy, and neither is the word 'penis'.

"It's not small," Patrick informed them.

"So give us some specific details in your story, and call things by their appropriate names," Tracy added, since just like the other two, she was curious to know how big their lone male really was.

"So size matters?" Patrick joked.

"Definitely," all three responded in unison.

"Good to know," he said, and he continued.

"Such a nice big dick," Erica said, as her ebony black feet, encased in her mocha-coloured nylons, moved up and down on my eight-inch dick, that had a nice left-hand swerve to it.

"Eight inches?!" Tracy gasped. That was almost double the size of her ex-asshole's!

"No way!" Tori added, imagining eight inches inside her mouth... or in her pussy... or her ass... or given enough time, all three.

"Eight and a quarter inches, actually," Patrick shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal, when he knew that it was.

"Show us," Tori demanded.

"Maybe later," he said, glancing at her nylon feet.

"You're reading us a fantasy, so it must not have really happened. So would you like an actual nylon foot job?" Tori offered, wiggling her toes at him again.

"Maybe later," he repeated, as he imagined the thrill of receiving one of those from any of these three beauties.

"Okay, but for now, back to your story," Christine directed. "And this time, not so many details; you went a bit overboard there."

"Thanks," I moaned, having always known I was pretty well-endowed, although nobody but my wife had known about it during the past twenty years.

"If you're going to give me a facial, we should remove our clothing," she said a minute later, as my breathing got heavier, from her amazing nylon-clad foot job.

"Do you want me to give you a facial?" I asked, astounded by the possibility.

"Yes, please."

I'm going to cum soon," I warned, this feeling way too good for me to hold back much longer.

"Then we'd better strip."

"Please leave your stockings on?" I begged.

"Of course. I'll sit down this time, you stick your dick in my face, and let's finish this."

She grabbed my dick, wanked it vigorously right in front of her face, and soon I gasped, "I'm gonna come... right about... NOW!"

"Then spray paint my face with your cum, boo," she urged, as her right hand furiously stroked my dick with smooth precision.

"Oh fuck," I grunted, as my load shot onto her forehead like a five-star fountain, then it dripped down her nose and onto her tits.

"Mmmmmmm," she purred, and as she kept stroking my dick, even more cum dribbled out, coating her hands.

"That was amazing," I said, as she milked out the last of my cum.

"So yummy," she said, taking my dick back into her mouth, and nursing on it for a while.

"I could do that," Tori bragged, "maybe even later this evening."

Everyone laughed, and Patrick said, "That's all I wrote down. Although in real life, since I'm always a perfect gentleman, once I'd recovered, I would have made sure she was satisfied, with a lengthy tongue exploration."

"Gentle or not, you really are the perfect man, Patrick," Tracy said.

"I try," he shrugged, having always made sure his wife went to sleep completely orgasmed.

"Well, we need some more wine, and some appetizers," Christine said.

"I am hungry right now," Tori said, looking at Patrick.

"You're always hungry for we all know what, you shameless slut," Tracy teased, "but tonight, so am I," an escalation which didn't usually occur in this group's flirtatious interchanges.

"Oh? You thinking tag team, or threesome?" Tori shrugged, again giving Patrick a look that could only be taken as: I want to fuck you.

"Come and help me, Patrick," Christine called out, rescuing him from the circling sharks.

"Sure," Patrick said, as he went off to help her, and to escape from this high-tension situation... and en route, adjusting his cock, which was seriously throbbing.

In the kitchen, Christine said, "I'm pretty sure you won't leave here tonight without getting laid."

"I dunno, we've been flirting like this for months," Patrick said, even though it had never gotten nearly as blunt and tense as it was tonight.

"I think Tori has decided she's more than willing to break her wedding vows," Christine said. She'd be more than willing to assist Tori in achieving that, and Tracy was obviously on that same page.

Patrick shrugged, "It's all just talk."

"I'm not so sure this time," Christine seeing more lust in Tori, and to a lesser extent in Tracy, than she'd ever seen in either of them before.

"Did you girls agree to wear nylons just to tease me?" Patrick asked, gazing down at Christine's red-painted toenails, looking so captivating, framed by her black stockings.

"Yes. That was Tori's idea," Christine said, as she finished plating the appetizers.

"I thought so," he said.

"You're not actually complaining. I think you like the idea," she said, noticing him checking out her legs.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "It's my weakness."

"We all have at least one weakness," she said, handing him a tray of appetizers.

"I'm looking forward to hearing your story."

"It will include something that yours and Tori's didn't," she said.

"Lesbianism?"

"Yes, including pussy licking," she said wickedly, before heading out.

"Hey, Part Two of my story would definitely have included that," he said defensively, as he followed her.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," she teased, as they returned to the shark tank.

"About time," Tori said. "Did you two fuck in there, or what?"

"Yeah, he really banged me good," Christine said, not at all fazed by the question.

"We were in the kitchen for four minutes max. I'd definitely roger her longer than that," Patrick defended himself.

"Good to know," Tori said, as she grabbed a handful of snacks. "Christine, it's your turn to appeal to our prurient interests."

"Only if I get that foot massage Patrick promised me," Christine said.

"I was kidding," he said, "well, kind of."

Christine sat down where she'd been sitting before, and snapped her fingers autocratically for Patrick to sit beside her... where Tori had been seated.

Patrick, being the gentleman he was, but also wanting to feel up those sexy sheer nylon-clad feet, hurried to seat himself beside her.

"Hey, that's my spot," Tori protested, as Christine swung her feet into Patrick's lap.

"Let's see what kind of magic you have in those hands, Patrick," she said. "Sit down anywhere else you like Tori, it's story time."

"Fine, but this'd better be fucking hot," Tori said semi-resentfully, sitting down where Patrick had been.

Patrick took Christine's right foot into his hands as she began reading out her story.

Maggie, the branch manager of the bank where I work, and thus my boss, called me into her office. The terse wording of her email told me she wasn't happy, and when I entered her office several minutes after the official end of the day, it was obvious that she wasn't... although she never seemed happy. She was always all business, and you shouldn't waste her time with any damn pleasantries.

Oddly, she was sitting on top of her desk, as I went in.

"Close the door," Maggie ordered, dressed like she always did, in a knee-length black skirt, black nylons and a loose, long-sleeved poufy white blouse. It seemed to be her only look.

"Yes, Mrs. Hamilton?" I said with pro forma courtesy, closing the door, and walking the few feet towards her.

Her legs were crossed, and she said, "Do you know why you're here?"

"Not at all," I replied. As always, I felt nervous around her. While she was incredibly pretty, she was equally scary.

"I require a new secretary," she said.

"Oh," I said flatly. That position wasn't remotely a promotion, but a de motion from being the branch's loan manager.

"You're not flattered?" she queried archly, as she uncrossed and recrossed her legs... it wasn't quite Sharon Stone in Basic Instinct slowly, but it wasn't a normal leg crossing either.

"Sorry, I wasn't expecting to hear that," I said, still standing awkwardly in front of her.

"It's an important position," she said.

"Of course. Whatever you say, Mrs. Hamilton," I said like I always did, while I admired her long, shapely legs.

"And I'm certain you'll be perfect for it," she added.

"Are you dissatisfied with my performance as your loan officer?" I asked. I was astonished that she thought I'd be willing to step down to being her secretary. Daisy, her current secretary, was a ridiculously pretty blonde-haired bombshell, who was barely old enough to drink, and her professional competence didn't even approach mine!

"You've been doing just fine," she said, in a tone that wasn't overly flattering; and one's performance being called 'just fine' is never a compliment. "But I think you'd be great in this new role."

"I've never had any schooling for being a secretary," I argued cautiously, still quite baffled by this conversation. ( Is there schooling for becoming a secretary? I was grasping for straws, and possibly imaginary ones.)

"But your new position is definitely a learn-on-the-job one," she said, as she uncrossed her legs, hopped down off her desk, and came to stand immediately in front of me.

I was speechless.

"You're a cunt muncher, right?" she asked, as birdlike, her hands soared up to land on my shoulders.

Patrick's eyes went wide upon hearing Christine use the verboten 'C' word (even though the always outspoken Tori had already used it in her story), while he continued massaging her sheer-stockinged feet.

"P-p-pardon?" I stammered, shocked by her insulting assumption, as I felt her firm hands pushing me downwards. Technically I was not a 'cunt muncher', but only because I'd never had an opportunity to become one... apparently until now.

"I believe you heard... and understood... me quite clearly," she said, as I felt myself being forced down to lie on my back on the tiled floor.

I was speechless again.

She removed her skirt to reveal she was wearing crotchless pantyhose, and she was completely shaved. She said, "Your principal role as my new secretary is to fulfill all of my needs. And in case you're worried about the money, your new position (typically on your back or your knees) comes with a 10% raise in salary."

I stared at her pussy... captivated!

Like it or not, satisfaction of my secret lesbian curiosity was now being offered right in front of me. Only visually for the moment, but...

Her hand went to the back of my head, and she guided me upwards to my glistening wet destination. Then while I began licking, her hand fell away while I continued, now completely of my own volition.

Just like the first time I'd sucked a dick, I had no idea what I was doing with her pussy, but instinct took over as her scent enveloped me... and I simply extended my tongue and continued licking. She was delicious!

"And that description came only from your imagination? I bet you'd make an amazing pussy muncher," Tori praised.

"I bet I would too," she said, as she offered her other foot to Patrick. "Kindly switch feet, dear servant."

"Yes, ma'am," he said, taking the other foot in his hands.

"That feels so good," she said, giving us the softest of moans.

"When do I get my turn?" Tori asked, frustrated that she wasn't getting any of Patrick's pedal attention.

"Right after mine," Tracy spoke up, having been quiet for quite some time.

"I'm definitely next," Tori said with attitude.

"Nope," Tracy said, doing what she rarely did, standing up to Tori, "If I'm telling my story next, I get my foot massage next, too."

"What? That's not even logical!" argued Tori. "What does..."

"Ladies, please," Patrick interrupted, enjoying being the prize being argued over, and this chance to administer three foot massages, "I'll do both of you."

"You will, will you?" Tori asked playfully. "Do us?"

"Maybe that too," he shrugged, and Christine resumed her story.

Her snatch was like fireworks on my tongue, and I knew in an instant, I was no longer straight. Her taste was amazing, and I couldn't get enough of it!

Maggie moaned, "I knew you'd be the perfect replacement for Daisy."

I couldn't fathom how she'd known I'd had these fantasies, or that I was a natural submissive, but as I licked and explored, I knew I'd do anything she told me to... anything at all... to be allowed to taste her sweet nectar again and again.

"Sweet nectar," Tori laughed. "Are you kidding?"

"Actually, sweet nectar is a pretty good descriptor, from my experience," Patrick jumped in, as he massaged each of Christine's toes individually.

"You've got a big dick and you eat pussy," Tori said. "Oh yes, and you're a real hunk. You've got to marry me!"

"No, marry me," Tracy objected.

"Maybe it's time for this Book Club to become polygamous," Christine joked. "Does anyone know of a good book on the subject?"

"I'm not sure I could possibly keep up with you three," Patrick worried. "Is that the end of your story, Christine?"