tagLoving WivesLadies of the Club Ch. 02

Ladies of the Club Ch. 02


By the time John got back from Miami, his wife and I had developed an excellent relationship in bed. She was looking forward to sneaking into my place in the afternoons for something extra. John and Diane had dinner at the club a few days after he returned. I walked over to their table as they were having an after dinner drink.

"Did you have success defending that cruise line from their angry passengers?" I asked.

"Join us Fred and I'll tell you all about it," John said.

I pulled up a chair and sat down next to the gal I'd been fucking several times a day while her husband was out of town. I'd probably fuck her tomorrow afternoon while John was at work. She was a whore, I thought - a beautiful, warm, friendly whore. If John stopped fucking her like a lady and started to fuck her like a whore she wouldn't need me at all.

John told me all about how he was gonna defend the cruise line against the angry passengers. Not being a lawyer I was not so sympathetic to the technical details about the case and felt a bit sorry for the passengers whose toilets had spilled feces all over their cabin floors. As he finished his story he looked up at the entrance to the dining room and smiled and waved.

Looking over my shoulder I saw a smiling Bob and Margie enter the room and head for our table. I glanced at Diane who had quickly started to smile. I could tell it was a forced smile. She was still pissed at Margie for stealing the guy she had been having an affair with. Women!

"Pull up a couple of chairs and join us," John said.

I signaled a waiter to take their drink orders and then watched Diane analyze every detail of Margie's dress and hair, jealousy just oozing from every pore. I thought about how men and women were so different. A woman takes it very personally when another woman steals her man -- a guy just shrugs and starts looking for another gal with big tits.

Margie looked across the table at me and smiled.

"Hi stranger. Long time no see," she said.

Well THAT required an explanation! I explained.

"Margie and I knew each other at Florida State a while back. The Lambda Chi house was across the street from Sigma Kappa."

I got a very strange look from Diane as I said it.

Bob listened with interest as John brought him up to date on the cruise line case. I was bored hearing the story over again in more technical terms. Margie and I exchanged glances and Diane eyed us suspiciously, almost as though she were afraid of losing yet another man to the gal she called a bitch in private.

I think what pissed off Diane the most was the size of Margie's tits and a bra that let them jiggle as she moved around. Her nipples were hard enough to visibly show through her blouse and I remembered when I used to date her she said that when her nipples decided to make an appearance there was not a damn thing she could do about it.

Then the conversation turned to houses. Bob's condo was not big enough or private enough and Bob and Margie told us their plans to buy a house. I got a nasty look from Diane when I offered my help. She was less than enthusiastic about me driving Margie around our resort. I think she was jealous!

As the months went by Diane and I settled into a comfortable routine. We fucked two or three afternoons each week at my place and Diane said it was great not to get horny and grumpy between John's trips. Of course I slept with her when John was out of town. Servicing her regularly seemed to make her a very happy wife. John even commented to me on how cheerful she had become.

Then after several months Diane drove up to Birmingham for a week to celebrate her mother's birthday. It turned out to be a very eventful week.

The day she left I got a really strange call from John. He wanted to talk. I invited him over to my place that night.

We sat on my patio next to the pool and I poured him a glass of Glenmorangie and moved a pitcher of water to his side of the table. I poured some for myself adding some ice and remembered drinking Glenmorangie with his wife the first night I fucked her. We each took a sip and then he made a very strange request.

"Fred you've fucked a number of women in the club and I want to ask you something that will sound strange. I've been worried about it for several months. The thought won't go away and you're the only guy that can help me."

Jesus! Yeah I'd fucked a lot of women in the club -- trophies and non-trophies. What the hell's this all about, I thought. I tried to stay calm and nodded.

"Bob Lafferty told me an interesting story," he continued. "He said he was fucking a gal who was married to a guy in the club who was not performing his husbandly duties properly. He called her Gail, which was not her real name. And said that he was gonna quit fuckin her after he married Margie. He laughed about how Gail was gonna get her needs met. Her husband was not taking care of her in bed and she was gonna have to find somebody who could."

I nodded as I listened to the story trying to conceal the anger I felt. That bastard had told John about fuckin his own wife! Told him stories about fucking Diane but called her Gail. What a perverted sense of humor!

John paused and took a sip of his single malt. I waited.

"Do you have any idea," he asked, "who Bob was fucking?"

"Let me think a moment," I said, looking off into the night.

My mind was racing. Obviously something had happened to make John suspicious of Diane. Why else would he ask that question? Never mind that! Was he suspicious of me? I doubt it -- otherwise we wouldn't be having this talk. I had to point him in a harmless direction. Trophy wives! That's it! I'll tell him about trophy wives. But maybe I'll need more than that -- something he can't easily check out.

"May I speak in complete confidence? You won't repeat anything I say?"

"I'll keep your secrets," he said.

"Not just MY secrets John. I'll be talking about fucking other guys wives -- wives whose husbands don't know they're fucking somebody else."

"I swear I won't say a word," he said.

"Okay," I said. "There are six or eight trophy wives in the club that fuck like minks. I'm sure you've heard about some of them. Trixie is the best known. She's fucked a lot of guys."

John nodded his head.

"And several more trophies, not so well know, that are available to the right man."

He nodded again.

"Then there are some other wives, non-trophy wives that is, that I know for sure fuck around. Bob might have been fucking one of them. Two in particular come to mind right away. The first gal that comes to mind is Beth, who is married to Walt Higgins. Walt is impotent. Beth fucks a lot of guys. The second wife is Rachel Barker who ..."

John interrupted me, "Doctor David Barker's wife?"

I nodded.

"Oh my God!" John exclaimed. "Rachel Barker fucks other men?"

"Yeah. I fucked her. Fucked her a lot. She's a damned good lay for a gal forty years old. Huge tits and a real talented tongue -- a tongue that goes back where the sun don't shine. She's very careful because hubby doesn't know she's giving away pussy. And she's particular. Doesn't fuck very many guys. If Gail was a regular for Bob then my guess is that Gail was Rachel Barker. Otherwise, and probably more likely, it was one of the trophy wives, in which case it's hard to say which one."

"Jesus," John said. "How many of these gals have you fucked?"

"Over a dozen," I replied. "There's a lot of pussy available in this club -- some of it prime stuff."

John seemed bewildered by what I had told him. I still couldn't figure out why he was asking these questions unless he suspected that his own wife was Gail. Was he wondering about that? Then I thought about Bob. He was a real bastard to get his jollies telling poor John these stories.

John continued, "I talked to Bob about marrying Margie. I asked him if he was gonna keep fuckin Gail and he said probably not. I asked him what Gail was going to do. Bob laughed and said, 'She's one horny bitch. She'll either do without or put the make on the golf pro. The pro's got a really big dick -- and I told you how much Gail needs a big one.'"

Jesus, I thought. When you care about a woman you can fuck her but you don't talk about her that way. Poor Diane was trapped in a marriage that gave her everything except the sexual satisfaction she needed. She'd been getting that from Bob. It was not something to laugh and joke about. Bob was an asshole!

I could tell that John was upset. He had refilled his glass several times and his speech was getting slurred. Somehow I need to get him away from this entire line of thought - bring this guy down to earth. Give him a look at the real world.

And more than that! John needs to know that he's got a problem in bed. But if he figures out he can't please Diane in bed then he might think maybe she really IS Gail. What the fuck do I do? Then I had a really crazy idea.

Maybe I need to walk him over to Trixie's swimming pool, I thought. She might be out tonight. Yeah! I'll do that. He's drunk enough. I don' know for sure but ... well ... you never know. Stranger things have happened.

"Let's go for a walk John," I said. "I want to show you something."

Drinks in hand we walked the three blocks to her pool and we lucked out. Trixie was swimming around naked in the moonlight.

I waved at her. She waved back and her big tits jiggled as she did so.

"Hi Trix," I said. "May we join you?"

"Come on in," Trixie said, giggling.

I think she was happy to see me again and John was new -- fresh meat so to speak. I got naked quickly and John undressed down to his undershorts. Then he just stood there embarrassed. I reached over and jerked them down and pushed him into the pool. Then I joined him.

We played around in the water and I introduced John to the joy of Trixie's tits.

"They float," I said. "Look at 'em floating like big balloons in the water."

Wonder of wonders! Strictly moral John began to play with Trixie's tits. We were laughing and joking and it was only a few minutes until we went into the pool house.

Trixie locked the door with some comment about John being new.

John had a hard on.

He fucked her first. Five minutes of nothing till he grunted and ejaculated. Trixie had a puzzled look on her face when I mounted up. I took my time and did her right and worked on her clit till her contractions began and then I pumped my load. John was eager to go again and it was the same as before -- five minutes of humping.

Trixie had the strangest look on her face the whole time. I gave her a second worthwhile fuck and she said a smiling thank-you when I finished her off. John stood there, drunk, as if nothing unusual were happening. We went out for a brief dip in the pool to rid ourselves of bodily fluids and secretions. Then John and I started to get dressed.

I leaned down to Trixie who was still in the pool and whispered, "Tell him the truth Trixie. He needs to hear it."

Trixie looked up at us as we waved goodbye and said, "Thank you Fred for a really fun time. And John, that's the worst fuck I've had since high school."

John said nothing as we walked back to my place. When we sat down at the table on my patio he poured himself a Glenmorangie straight and belted it down.

Then he looked at me and almost shouting said, "She's a whore!"

"Yeah," I said. "But she's a whore who knows a good fuck from a bad one."

"I'm drunk," he said. "Can I come back tomorrow night when I'm sober? I'd like to ... to ... well ... talk to you some more."

To make a long story short, John joined me the next night and I introduced him to another trophy wife. This time stone cold sober. He was as bad a fuck as before and the whore told him so.

We went back to my place to talk and drink. I told him straight that he was a lousy fuck -- drunk or sober. Both gals said so and I asked if he noticed that I was careful to bring each gal off before I pumped my load. Then I told him in no uncertain terms that fuckin wasn't just for guys -- it was for gals too.

It was a long talk but when it was over John had come to understand that he didn't know how to fuck. That's a difficult thing for a man to accept but I think he finally did. The Glenmorangie helped a lot. I hoped he'd remember our conversation when the booze wore off.

The next day John visited his Urologist who sent him to a pair of qualified sexual councilors. A husband and wife, trained in St. Louis, who worked with couples who had sexual performance problems. It was a long consultation, he said. And the most embarrassing conversation he had ever had in his life.

John stumbled into my place the next day uninvited and looking shocked and sad and bewildered and scared as hell.

"They won't help me unless my wife is there. I love my wife but I can't talk to them in front of HER. I just can't! The stuff they talk about you would never believe! And it's not just talk! They want to ... I mean they want me to undress and ... I can't do that with my wife. When I told 'em that, they offered me a surrogate. That's a whore you pay to teach you how to fuck."

"A surrogate is NOT a whore," I said. "She is a legitimate part of sex therapy. But I think you're better off with Diane than with a surrogate."

"How do I tell Diane? I can't talk about sex with my wife," he shouted, agitated.

"John that's the biggest part of your problem," I said. "You can't talk about sex with your wife. Diane's coming back Monday and with your permission I'll talk to her first."

"You'll tell her what I did with those whores?" John almost shouted, visibly distressed.

"I'll tell her what you DIDN'T do very well with those whores."

"And what they said about me being ... a lousy ... well ... a lousy ... you know?"

"I'll tell her exactly what they said."

"This is gonna be embarrassing," he said. "Very embarrassing!"

"Not half as embarrassing as the alternative," I said, thinking about Diane fucking Bob and now me.

I don't know if John got THAT message but he seemed to calm down a little. I could see his mind working fast and furious. I hoped he was reaching the right conclusions.

If I could convince Diane to work with John I'd lose a regular piece of ass. But when I thought of the supply of available pussy remaining in our club, I realized that I'd have no dry spell at all.

Sitting with Diane on my patio the night she got back I told her what had happened to her hubby while she was gone. She listened patiently as I began the story but when I mentioned Trixie she suddenly screamed loud enough to wake up the whole neighborhood.


"Actually," I said laughing, "it was TWO whores."

Diane did not think it was funny -- not at all funny.

Then I told her what Trixie had said.

"Oh my God," she moaned shaking her head from side to side. She loved him so and was distressed that he had been hurt that way. She'd always pretended with him. Now she was thinking that John knew it had been pretense.

Almost in tears she said, "Poor John! What did he say when Trixie told him that?"

"Nothing to her but he told me later that he was drunk and he wanted to come back sober."

"And another whore told him the same thing the next night?" Diane asked. "When he fucked her stone cold sober?"

I nodded. She was distraught.

Then I calmed her down and outlined for her what had happened and the plan John had worked out with the therapists.

After I finished she sat in silence for a while and then she asked me a question very softly.

"Do you think he knows I fucked Bob?"

"He didn't say and I don't know," I replied. "But I think he wants to forget all about it because of what he said when we talked about Walt Higgins and Beth and Dr. Barker and Rachel."

"What did he say?" Diane asked.

"He said Walt and Beth were a sad couple and they would be a lot better off if Walt was like Dr. Barker and didn't know what his wife was doing."

She thought for a minute in silence and finally replied, "He said almost the same thing to me a few months ago -- a few months? Shit! It seems like years. But my life seems to be changing for the better."

"He's gonna try Diane. He's really gonna try. It won't be easy for him. Or for you! He has buried his normal sexual expression deep inside himself for a lot of years. You and his councilors are gonna have a tough time bringing it up the surface where it belongs. He will be very uncomfortable when that starts to happen. Just like a closet cuck reading a porn cuckold story."

She looked at me tenderly.

"You know how much I love my husband," she continued. "So Fred, I'm gonna try to make this thing work out. Of course I won't be ... you know ... seeing you any more. You understand."

"I understand. I won't be lonely. I'll have lots of companionship."

"You horny bastard," she chuckled, "you'll have more companionship than you can handle. And that reminds me. The other night when you said you knew Margie at Florida State. Was that the 'Biblical' knew?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, I guess you could say it was Biblical," I said. "But only for a few months."

"I saw you staring at that bitch's nipples." Diane said. "Well, Bob travels just like John so maybe you'll get reacquainted with Margie now that she's so close and ... so convenient."

"And if you do," she continued, "there's no need for that bastard Bob to know anything about it. And it couldn't happen to a more deserving husband."

Then she laughed. It was a dirty laugh. Women! They take losing a man to another woman very personally. She'd like nothing better than seeing me make a cuckold out of Bob Lafferty using the wife who stole him from her. I'd have to tell her of course and I can see her now throwing her head back and laughing loudly. Then I thought about the way Bob had talked to John and figured Diane was right -- Bob deserved it.

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