tagGroup SexThe Fantasy Club

The Fantasy Club

byNorfolk Boy©

This story starts where 'Party Games' left off and charts the further adventures of four couples - Dave & Holly Sutton, Steve & Sarah, Pete & Rosemary Taylor and Paul (Me) & Diane James.


"Mr. Taylor?"

Peter dropped the magazine he was reading and looked up. He recognised the attractive, medium height women with honey blonde hair that addressed him, but not the starched white uniform that clad her elegantly slender body.

"Yes?" he replied.

Oddly, despite the circumstances, he felt nervous. He had never had a full body massage before so, even though he had been briefed, he did not know exactly what to expect.

"Good Morning Mr. Taylor, will you follow me, please," she turned to walk down a dimly lit corridor. He followed her slim form until she reached the end where she opened a door onto a small, cell-like, room and was met with subdued lighting and relaxing music. As soon as they entered, she closed the door and turned to him with a reassuring smile,

"Have you had a massage before?"

"Only once," he answered truthfully, " It was some time ago," and added, "we were abroad on holiday."

"It's a full massage, isn't it Mr. Taylor?"

"Please, strip down to your underclothes and lie, face down, on the table." Her instructions were given in a matter of fact voice as if all the men she met were expected to strip and lie down, almost naked, for her.

He complied obediently, glad that he had worn his most fashionable underwear for this occasion.

She asked, in a professional way, about his aches and pains and he told her of a shoulder that gave him some discomfort as she began to rub the warm scented oil into his upper body. She began to knead and roll the knotted muscles of his shoulder and upper back in a most enjoyable way and as he lay, looking at the floor through the hole in the bed beneath his face, he began to enjoy the feel of another person's hands on his body and drifted into a half sleep.

Her hands moved down into the small of his back where she rolled the waist band of his underpants down onto his buttocks revealing his rear cleavage. The thought of being so exposed started to arouse him and, as her expert fingers teased out the tension in his lower back, sweeping in and out of his rear cleavage as they did, they only added to his state of arousal.

When she had completed his upper torso she covered it with a warm towel and began to massage his legs.

The massage of his lower legs and feet was pleasant and stress relieving and allowed him to relax a little, but when her attention switched to his upper thighs it became much more erotic. As her oiled hands slipped deftly from his knee to his groin they un-knotted the tense muscles in his upper thigh, but only served to increase the tension in a singularly sensitive muscle in his groin.

He squirmed uncomfortably on the narrow table as he tried to adjust his position to accommodate a particularly unwelcome erection. Meanwhile her hand glided effortlessly between his legs, sliding inside the leg of his shorts and brushing the sensitive ridge between his scrotum and anus. When she had completed both his legs she asked him to turn over and he complied reluctantly.

At least by lying on his stiff cock he was able to hide it, but now he was to lie on his back with his excitement visible.

She stood holding a towel in front of her as he assumed the new position but his state of sexual arousal was manifestly obvious. However, she ignored it and draped the towel over his midriff and upper body and then began her administrations to the front of his legs and feet. Once again she completed massaging his lower legs before folding the towel back over itself to allow her access to the top of his legs.

Her hand glided slickly up and down the length of his thigh only pausing when she added more scented oil. Each pass grazed the hem of his shorts and, occasionally, but very gently, the tip of his penis as it poked out from the leg of his underwear. She worked purposefully and silently as he lay on his back with his eyes closed and his hands holding onto the edge of the narrow table rather that dangling uncomfortable down.

It was imperceptible at first, but his heightened senses became aware of her white uniform brushing against the back of his right hand on each upward stroke of her hands. As time passed he began to feel the edge of her thigh pressing ever so softly against his fingers whilst her own fingertips continued to tease his scantily clad groin.

Her calm voice broke into the heavy silence.

"You know I can relieve that tension for you, Mr. Taylor, if you wish," and, as he opened his eyes to look at her pretty face, she nodded, smiling towards his erection.

Peter closed his eyes again and replied, "Oh please, be my guest."

She rolled down his shorts carefully from the top revealing his straining penis inch by thick inch until it was completely exposed whereupon she removed his shorts completely.

"Ummm, very nice," she said involuntarily and took a tight hold of the straining shaft with her oiled left hand and then cupped his weighty balls with her right hand.

After a few seconds she released her tight grip and started to masturbate him with a half open hand.

However, rather than move the outer skin of his shaft up and down in the conventional way, she crooked her hand and, by barely applying any pressure, allowed it to skim over the surface of his prick. This produced an exquisite sensation, which made Pete groan and writhe with pleasure.

After a few strokes she moved her own position, replacing the thigh that was pressing against his hand with her firm little mound and he started to rub it gently through her coat with his fingers.

For the next few minutes he laid and enjoyed the twin pleasures he was experiencing -the feel of her plump mons in his hand and her talented fingers on his prick. Eventually, he extended his fingers and lifting the hem of her white coat, so that he could slid them between her parted legs and rub her pouting slit. Her skimpy knickers were wet to the touch and, as he slipped a finger inside and plunged it into a deliciously sloppy vagina, she gasped and stayed her hand.

She stood still, her eyes closed as she chewed her lips and then she dropped her head down to his penis, which quickly disappeared, into her mouth. Her soft lips surrounded it and, whilst she was sucking powerfully, he felt an extra thrill as she pressed her tongue against its fleshy underside. Meanwhile her tiny hand continued to hold and pump the wide base of his cock.

Between her legs, his fingers were driving in and out of her pussy and her love honey was running freely onto his hand.

"You feel as though you could do with some of that as well," he said patting his stomach, "Hop up on here."

She nodded, opened her white coat and slipped off her panties stepping, first, onto the chair beside him and then onto the table where she straddled his chest with her own slim form to face his feet.

When she bent down to take his penis into her mouth again, her starched white coat rode up her back and her own, swollen damp pussy lips were at the tip of his tongue. Whilst Peter would have said that he prefers his women 'au naturelle' her neatly trimmed cunt made his mouth water. He raised his head and pulled that wonderful pink fig towards his waiting tongue and licked its fleshy outer lips from stem to stern. She wriggled and pushed herself down onto his extended tongue and he drove it deep inside her, over and over again.

By now, her surprising large clitoris had emerged expectantly from its hood and he sucked it quickly in and out between his lips and then gnawed gently upon it.

As her own arousal increased, she stopped sucking him and opened her mouth wider so that she could pant more quickly. In so doing she bathed his throbbing length in a stream of her deliciously hot breath.

Her pelvic movements told him she was cumming and she took over the stimulation of her own clitoris against his mouth. She ground her pussy harder and harder against his face until suddenly, her body froze and her vagina spasmed erratically on the end of his tongue. Seconds later she collapsed, like a rag doll, on top of him.

He let her rest a while and then said, with a grin, "I believe you were supposed to be relieving me, young lady"

"Oh, I am so sorry, Sir " she offered apologetically.

Recovering her poise, she repositioned herself astride him and faced him with her wonderfully wet little tunnel poised purposely over his straining penis. She maintained eye contact with him as her hand delved between her legs to grab his stiff shaft and push it upright, so that she could stroke its glistening end along moist vulva lips that waited to be penetrated.

She lowered herself allowing, slowly but surely, his taught length of flesh to slide inside her until he was fully buried and at that point she closed her eyes, tossed back her pretty head and let her long blond hair cascade about her shoulders. He was astounded at how easily his, not insignificant length, had disappeared so quickly and completely into her slight body leaving only their pubic bones to grind together.

Once her tiny wet hole had become accustomed to his girth she began to rotate it slowly around his cock. He thrust upward, her rotation was pleasant, but would not release the tension building up in his balls. She raised her rear quarters almost allowing his penis to slip out of her, but then she impaled him again - exquisitely!

She repeated this movement again and again and again and, as her juices ran freely they began to emit a satisfying slapping and slurping noise. Her white coat now hung open and he reached up and cupped her tiny, but firm, breasts in both hands. He felt the taught little nipples stabbing into his palms. Her excitement built and she began to moan quietly, letting the friction she was generating bring them both towards a climax.

"Faster, please," he said breathlessly and she responded with vigour. He could feel his own release building at the base of his shaft and his balls tightened for the final push of seminal fluids into this gorgeous creature's deepest recess.

He held his breath for a second then gasped loudly as his floodgate opened. Her natural reflexes sensed that he was coming and her, already tight, vaginal muscles contracted around his swelling cock. On each upward stroke her sexual siphon milked his pulsing prick as he moved, ever closer, to his ejaculation. Then, with one final thrust, up into her depths, he sent the heated contents of his balls deep inside her womb.

To his surprised, the impact of his hot sticky ejaculate on the inside of her vagina caused her to orgasm again and she gave a silent cry of pleasure.

Exhausted, she slumped forward on top of him where her head lay beside his and he could hear her laboured breathing as it slowly quietened. He put his arms around her and held her until her composure returned.

After a minute she pushed herself up and kissed him on the lips and said, "Well Peter, thank you for fulfilling my fantasy?" before climbing off him to re-arrange her clothing.


It had been almost six weeks since the party when our small group had explored an uncharted sea of erotic pleasure. It had all started as a joke - a flirtatious joke, but a joke none-the-less and then developed into a night of consummate sexual pleasure.

When the next dawn broke, none of us had any regrets: in fact the prevailing feeling was to hasten a re-run.

As 'Organiser' of the party game I was tasked with coming up with a sequel and the others relied upon me to be original.

I pondered the challenge for a couple of weeks before incubating the germ of an idea. It needed developing so I decided to put it to the rest of the group at another garden party which Diane, my wife, and I arranged.

Some years previously Diane and I had bought a run down rectory, which we had renovated to our taste and in which we felt very happy. We especially enjoyed the garden - a secluded combination of lawn, and orchard that, whilst easy to maintain, afforded us endless outdoor freedom.

As luck would have it, the Saturday I had chosen for our garden party turned out to be a quintessential English summer afternoon with balmy heat, butterflies and the buzz of harmless insects.

Whilst Diane prepared the food, I lit the barbecue, filled a clean plastic dustbin with ice and beer and brought the garden chairs from the garage to arrange in a circle under a large geriatric Bramley apple tree.

I had said three o'clock so, by three thirty, everyone had arrived and were chatting together with their drinks as the cremation smoke from the barbecue drifted away into the branches of the nearby fruit trees.

By four thirty everyone had eaten and had consumed enough units of alcohol to inhibit prudence, especially Holly who, despite her ardent efforts, seemed doomed never to raise her alcohol tolerance threshold.

It was Holly who opened the discussion with a loud question.

"OK, John. What have you come up with?"

I had been reclining in my Great Yarmouth Corporation deckchair, chatting to Pete on my left and his wife Rosemary on my right - a stunning Redhead with shoulder length hair who had selected the most shaded part of the garden to protect her alabaster skin from the sun.

Holly's outburst caught everyone's attention and they, unanimously, stopped their own conversations and stared at me in anticipation.

"Well," I started.

"I have still to sort out some of the details but the basic idea is this...."

I looked from face to face and thought fleetingly what an attractive bunch they were, then I continued,

" I propose that we form a "Fantasy Club.."

"You mean like a key club?" interrupted Sarah, her eyes glinting.

I recovered my ground.

"Oh! I hope we can make it much more interesting than that, but for the idea to work each of you is going to have to trust me."

"I am old enough now to know that we all harbour a special fantasy or fantasies. Some of us have never even spoken to our partners about it, but I propose each of us will be allowed to fulfil a fantasy. Clearly, I am assuming that no one will get hurt and I believe that we should restrict the 'cast ', as it were, in every fantasy, to this group - if that suits everyone."

"As I said you are all going to have to trust me as I am going to ask each of you to email me and tell me your fantasy. I will then organise for you to live out your fantasy."

"What a great idea I would like...."

I cut Steve off short, " Not here Steve - and anyway, I want your fantasies to be realistic - I am sure your all realise that I will not be able to organise a F16 Fighter and Holly whatshername, will I, Steve?"

Everyone laughed knowing his obsession with the TOP GUN movie and I continued, " I know I'm not alone with a single recurring fantasy and in due course someone will help me fulfil it. Remember that we all have our limits and I am not sure what they are. I would like to think that I am broad minded and will make sure that no one is asked to step over their own line."

Holly, disappointed that the new game would not be starting soon, asked,

"So we write our fantasy down and email it to you and then you will arrange for it to be fulfilled?"

"Yes, that's it - what do you all think?"

"I think that you are going to get a lot of horny emails - that's what I think," said Dave with a huge grin on his face, "Can I help you sort them?"

I replied, " I guess, ideally, we need an independent organiser, but, if you are happy to trust me, I am happy to do it."

"Sounds fine with me," said Pete, "will our fantasies stay secret?"

"You have my word," I answered solemnly then added, "Oh, one more thing. The first fantasies we will do will be the ladies fantasies, if that is OK with everyone?

Everyone agreed.


Holly was nervous as she alighted from a smelly cab in a poor part of the town. The directions she had received said to get a cab to the town-end of Nelson Street and walk the twenty yards to the Ace of Clubs pool hall. She was dressed, as instructed, in a short leather skirt, knee length boots and a low-necked red silk top that displayed her feminine credentials to their best advantage. Her heart beat furiously as she approached the dimly lit doorway, but her anticipation drove her up the steps and through the battered door.

The inside was small and dim - the only light coming from the bar and the low slung fitting that illuminated a nearby pool table. Behind the bar a red haired girl was drying glasses in front of two punters who sat draped over their seats with drinks in their hands. A single player potted balls at the table.

Holly's heart trembled with anxiety, but she straightened up and walked across to the bar where she ordered a Vodka and orange.

"I'll get that," said the nearest of the two men at the bar and added, " and make it a large one."

Holly did not object, downing half the drink the moment it arrived, replacing her glass on the counter and smiling at its purchaser.

"Thanks, she offered simply.

"You on your own?" he asked, a naughty grin twisting his mouth.

"Thought I'd look for a little fun," she moved closer until her thigh brushed his knee.

"How about you?"

"Oh, I'm always up for a little fun but I'm with these two guys."

He cocked his head over his shoulder and then nodded towards the pool table. Each of the other men smiled and nodded.

"Great! We have a four for Bridge... or something?" she quipped.

The 'or something' hung in the air for a couple of seconds before Holly held out her hand limply to the stranger, "By the way, I'm Holly. What do they call you?"

He shook her hand and introduced himself,

"Hi! I'm Steve - this is Pete and the pool ace is Paul," pointing at me.

Holly looked from one to the other and thought, "Nice lookin' fellers." then spoke to me," So you're the pool ace are you, Paul - fancy a game?"

I moved to the front of the table and rested on my cue before replying.

"I only play for money."

"Well, I only play for love," challenged Holly, sidling over to my side and staring me straight in the eye.

"Do you mean 'love' or do you really mean 'sex'?" I asked.

"Whatever!" shrugged Holly, collecting the balls and setting them up on the table.

When she had finished she took the cue from me saying "Ladies first - I'll break."

Holly took her place and bent over the table with her cue. She leaned over very slowly to take her shot and this motion raised her short leather skirt, like a theatre curtain, up the back of her slim legs revealing the merest peak of her white thong as it peeped out from between her parted thighs. Not an eye in the room watched the cue strike the ball.

Holly put up a brave performance and only lost the frame on the black, but I had been handicapped by having two long woods to carry throughout the game.

"Double or quits?" asked Holly innocently as the black disappeared into the far right pocket.

"And what precisely does 'double' mean?" I queried.

Holly nodded towards the men at the bar.

"All of us?" I questioned, hardly able to conceal my excitement.

"Well, only if I lose - if I win....."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," I interrupted her then collected the balls and offered the cue to Holly once more, "Mugs away."

"Your thinking of darts," said Holly, but took the cue anyway and scattered the balls all over the table. Unfortunately for her, none went into a pocket, so I spent the next ten minutes clearing the table and potting the black with a flourish.

By the time the black had disappeared the others had drifted towards the table eager to be included in any debt repayment.

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