Boys' Club

For a few seconds, she didn't say anything, she was just frozen, a statue of ecstasy, the pleasure rushing through her too intense to express on even a subconscious level. But then she began a low, guttural moan, a deep noise that was a mixture of words and primordial gibberish. Her whole body began to shake violently, her muscles contracting and relaxing in rapid-fire succession. She had totally lost control of her mind in the same way she had given over control of her body.

She finally regained the power of speech and she found herself shouting "ohmyGod, ohmyGod, yes, yes, fuck, John, I'm cumming, I'm cumming, ohmyGod." She continued rubbing, not wanting anything to bring an end to this feeling. Her whole body ached as hours, weeks of sexual tension and anxiety were released in a tidal wave of pleasure. It was one of the longest, most powerful orgasms she'd ever had.

As she came down from the high, her arms fell to the sides and her body slumped into the chair. Her breathing was still shallow and she struggled to regain her breath. There was no sound at all in the room; she could tell, even with her earplugs in. After a few moments, she was able to manage to lift her head slightly and say "thank you for coming, all of you. Thank you." And you're welcome, she thought.

She heard rustling and muffled voices. Chairs were moved and footsteps headed for the door. Gradually, the room fell quiet again.

She couldn't move, she couldn't speak. She was paralyzed by pleasure. Her whole body felt as if it were a cloud, a ball of energy that had just achieved some higher plane of existence and was relaxing and enjoying the accomplishment. She took several deep breaths and adjusted herself in the chair, soaking in the relief of having so successfully accomplished what had worried her for so long, to say nothing of the carnal pleasure that accomplishment had brought her.

She heard footsteps returning, which she assumed meant John was coming up after letting the men out. But she didn't hear him saying anything, and he was approaching fast. She managed the strength to reach up and remove her earplugs as he reached her.

"So, what did you think?" she asked, reaching up to remove the blindfold. "I thought it wen-"

His hand stopped her before she could take it off. He grabbed both of her arms and held them firmly by the wrists. Suddenly, panic shot through her. Is this John? she asked herself. Surely he wouldn't have let one of the other men back in, surely he wouldn't let them touch me again. But why isn't he saying anything? Why is he making me keep the blindfold on?

With the other hand, he lifted her up out of the chair and half placed, half threw her naked body onto the couch. He climbed on top of her, and Leigh could feel his naked skin on hers.

Leigh could not tell if it was John; despite years of his touch, she'd just spent over an hour being touched by almost a dozen other men, and his hands felt familiar yet strange in a way she imagined another of the men's would at this moment.

He's going to rape me, she thought. Now she felt convinced it was not John, but she didn't know what to do. Her body was not responding to her brain's commands, it was so spent from her orgasm. She was powerless to stop him. Whoever it was had clearly become consumed by lust, he was like an animal, forcefully pulling her legs apart while still holding her wrists, taking what he'd been wanting all night.

"Please," she said, finally building up the strength to say something. "Please stop. I don't know who you are, but this is not right. You had your fun, you followed the rules, please."

There was no answer, and Leigh could feel a cock pressing against her pussy. It was rock hard and big, she could tell that much as it began sliding inside her. But she was so wet that it slid inside her easily.

She found herself again beginning to wonder if it was John. Sure, other men at the party might have large cocks, but this felt familiar and natural in a way that sex with no other man had ever felt. And she certainly never pictured rape feeling as right as this cock did in her tight, wet pussy.

By now he was fully inside her, whoever he was, and he had begun thrusting with abandon. If it was John, he had completely lost control, he seemed to have no care for how she felt. She of course felt amazing, but as her sore and sensitive pussy was being pounded by this hard cock, streaks of lightning flashed in her blindfolded eyes with every too-deep, too-hard thrust.

He finally released her wrists in favor of grasping her shoulders with both hands, and she quickly reached up and pulled off the blindfold. It was John, she saw, his eyes closed, his face contorted in a mixture of exertion and pleasure. He was now truly pounding away at her, the head of his cock slamming into her cervix with each trust. She could barely handle the mixture of pain and ecstasy that was shooting through her body and she cried out, not sure whether she wanted him to stop or go harder, whether she wanted him to cum or hold out just a little while longer.

She felt a second orgasm building inside her and she knew her answer. John couldn't hold out much longer, given how hard he was going, but she desperately wanted to cum again, this time with him inside her. She hoped that the built-up energy and lust from the evening could power him long enough to bring her over the edge again. But she also hoped that he wasn't worried about her, that he was taking his reward and focusing only on his own pleasure.

She was almost completely out of breath, barely able to think, but she managed to gasp out "please, baby...I'm so close...please, baby...give it to me...give it all to me...cum inside me...reward me for what I just gave you...show me that I'm yours...show me..."

He closed his eyes and opened his mouth. For the first time in hours, she heard his voice, and the sheer pleasure he was experiencing was palpable in it. "I'm cumming!" he shouted. "I'm cumming, Leigh! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming." His whole body jerked as he thrust forward as hard as he could, slamming his throbbing cock into her. He came hard, filling her pussy up with his seed. She could feel it shooting inside her, and that's what sent her over the edge, too.

Her arms were wrapped around his back, and her fingernails dug into his skin. "Me, too!" she screamed, almost at the top of her lungs. Her pussy tightened around him and she pulled him into her as hard as she could with her arms as well. Her back arched, pressing her chest harder against his. Her whole body shook and trembled, her back and legs bucking. She felt him emptying his balls inside her and she wanted every drop of it. She'd earned it.

As the two lay together, both trying to regain their breath, their muscles spasming and their bodies quivering, neither said a word. They just soaked up each other's presence, felt their bodies pressed together, connected in a way neither could explain or really understand. Leigh's mind was a blur, she could barely remember her own name, but she could accutely and powerfully feel John inside her, on top of her, loving her, cherishing her, owning her, and she felt profoundly the same. She loved him more than anything in the world and knew that he loved her back just as much.

She heard him whisper "I love you, Leigh. Thank you." She didn't know whether the thanks was for the sex or for the whole evening, but she didn't care. No thanks were necessary, of course, she had done it for herself as well as for him. But the way he always thanked her after sex, something that initially had bothered her, had become a welcome and gentle reminder of his care for her, his appreciation and love for her. She said nothing in response, she just placed her hand on his head, tilted it towards her, and lightly kissed him.

As she lay there, her husband on top of her, his cock and his cum inside her, his needs fully satisfied by her and her body (and her own satisfied by his), her thoughts were not on the men whose hands had just explored her body, whose lust and desire had sparked this passion. Nor were they on those mens wives, whose bodies had provided such pleasure and enjoyment for John in the past and would do so at the next event. No, her thoughts were filled with the same thing as what filled her arms and and her heart. She was deeply, truly, uniquely lucky, and while she'd of course known that before this evening, she knew it now all the more.