The Book Club

I erupted so forcefully that it must have shot up Nikki’s bare back. In my mind’s eye I saw my pearly gism hit her back in ropes and drizzle down along her spine and through the cleft of her ass to my chest. I felt it hit my chest and Nikki dismounted my head and hands massaged it into my belly and chest. Fingers kept coming into my mouth and I realized they were going to feed me every drop of my own sticky ejaculate. When the activities subsided I lay across the cushion on top of that low square table sprawled and spent. The ladies laughed and said goodbye as if they were leaving a museum luncheon. The last thing I heard was a litany of, “Thank you Charlie.”

And that is how it all began. They still call it The Book Club. I don’t know if it is a dig at my naiveté or just a convenient name. I do know there actually is a book. It is a photo album and journal for the club. We husbands don’t forget that the ladies have each of the parties well documented.

Oh yes, Since there is one open month in the party schedule the ladies are discussing a grand slam end of the year weekend retreat party with all of us waiters present at the same time. The tentative theme for that night so far is Ï’ve Got Milk.” I’ll keep you posted.