The Saturday Night Club

When he had said that he would send a car for me, I knew that it wouldn't be a rust bucket, but I hadn't expected a Rolls-Royce. And what was just as impressive, was what the chauffeur was wearing. A full uniform, including a peaked cap. When he got out of the car, and opened the door for me, I nearly saluted him.

In a formal tone, he said, "Mr. Henderson, I am Mr. Grant's chauffeur."

It was blatantly obvious who he was, and I wanted to laugh, but with some difficulty, I managed not to.

I was now inside the car, and I was trying to act as if this was my normal mode of transport. Playing it cool. But what I really wanted to do, was to press every button, and open every compartment.

Two days ago, I had received a call.

"James, I'm Rupert Grant. You don't know me, but I understand that you are looking for a part time job. I have one that you might be interested in."

He wouldn't give me any details over the phone, and that had made me suspicious. But he had got my number from Margaret Vardy, so it should be OK meeting him. With hindsight, my brief relationship with Margaret had been a mistake, and it had ended with lots of tears from her. However, I knew that she wouldn't give my number to somebody that she didn't trust.

And that's why I was on my way to see him now.

It took us forty minutes to get there, but I wish that it had been longer. I had enjoyed all the envious looks, when we were stopped at traffic lights. One day, I would have a car like this. In my dreams!

When we turned into the drive, and I could see his large mansion in the distance, I lost my composure.

"Fuck me!"

That didn't get any reaction from my driver, and that impressed me. He was a professional.

We were met by a young maid, in an equally impressive uniform, who showed me into the drawing room.

"Mr. Grant will be with you in a few minutes."

She then left me alone. A few, ended up being fifteen, but I didn't mind. In the room were a large collection of books, many of them first editions. I could have happily spent all day there.

"Hello James, I'm sorry to keep you waiting."

"Hi Mr. Grant."

As we shook hands, he said, "Please call me Rupert."

Half an hour later, I was back in the Roller. And I now had a job. A very unusual one, and I had got it because of Margaret's recommendation.

When I got home, I was bursting to tell someone about it, but it couldn't be my parents. It would have to be Ryan. We have been best friends since we were five years old. I knew all his secrets, and he knew mine. He could be trusted.

I called him from my bedroom, with the door closed. This was a conversation that I didn't want any of my family to overhear.

When I had finished telling him, he responded how I expected him to, with one of his favourite expressions.

"No fucking way!"

"It's true, every word of it."

I was now waiting for him to speak again, and I was smiling, because I knew what he was going to say.

"Will he give me a job?"

I was right. However, I was going to have to disappoint him.

"Sorry, he was only hiring one person."

Mr. Grant hadn't told me that, but even if he had more vacancies, the answer would still be no. He was old enough, but he didn't meet the criteria. Telling him the truth, would be embarrassing for both of us.

When I woke the next day, I groaned. It must have been a dream. The job was too good to be true. But it was real, and on my phone, I had a text confirming my start date.

I was now working for Mr. Grant, as an 'Entertainer', at his Saturday Night Club.

I had thought that he would interview me, but he hadn't.

He started with, "The job is yours if you want it."

Then he told me about it.

"On the first Saturday of each month, I wine and dine my friends here. For obvious reasons, we call it the Saturday Night Club."

So he wanted a waiter. No problem, I've done that before.

"The club is strictly for adults. All the guests, and all my staff, must be over eighteen, because after we have eaten, we fuck. Mostly among ourselves, but I provide men and women, who are twenty one or older, for those who want something different."

Then, to make it clear what my duties were, he said, "I want you to have sex with the women guests."

He had surprised me, even shocked me, but I could still manage a witty riposte.

"All of them?"

I thought he would laugh, but all I got was a weak smile. Making a joke of it, had been a mistake.

"Yes or no?"

I gave him a quick yes, even though he hadn't told me what the pay was. I was twenty one years old, being paid to fuck, even if it wasn't much, was my ideal job.

When he did tell me, I nearly hugged him. It was only one day a month, but it paid as much as full time bar work, including tips.

And I had Margaret to thank for recommending me. I had met her six months ago. She was twenty years older than me, and married, but that didn't stop us having a passionate affair. It was very good at first, but after a couple of months, it started spiralling out of control. She wanted to leave her Husband for me. I just wanted some fun. Nothing serious. When we split up, she was heartbroken.

From what he had said about her, sometime after we had parted, Margaret had joined the club. And she had talked about me, or more specifically, about my big cock.

Don't get me wrong, I'm very happy to have nine inches, but I don't like it defining me. I'm in my final year at university, studying Physics. Quantum Mechanics is my speciality. However, it wasn't my high IQ that had got me the job.

"James, I've given you the job because you meet two important criteria. You have a very big cock, and you know how to use it."

And that's why I had to say no to Ryan. His five inches was never going to pass the audition!

On Thursday, I met up with him.

"When's the big day?"

"This Saturday."

"So, you just turn up, and then the fucking starts."

I laughed.

"It's a bit more subtle than that. I drive there myself, before the guests arrive, and then I park at the rear of the building. I will be met at the back entrance by a member of staff, who shows me to a bedroom. That's where I stay until the party is over."

"And all the women wait outside the door until it's their turn?"

I laughed again.

"No. It's only one or two. There will be other men there that are doing the same thing as me."

"It's unlikely to happen, but won't it be embarrassing if it's somebody you know?"

"You mean your Mother, or your Sister?"

He didn't find that funny, and I now wished that I hadn't said it. But I wasn't worried about being recognized.

"I will be wearing a mask at all times. And I have been told that the room will be dimly lit."

"And will you have a cape, like a superhero? And will they call you Fuckman?"

He was getting his own back, after my jibe about his Mother and Sister.

"No cape, but I will be known as, The Stallion."

Ryan was now laughing hysterically, and clutching his sides while he was doing it. Why had I stupidly told him that? It would be a long time before he stopped finding it funny.

On Saturday, we all had breakfast together.

Looking at my Sister, Mother asked, "Are you out tonight?"

When Bethany shook her head, I was surprised. She had stayed in yesterday as well. It wasn't like her to have a quiet weekend. Perhaps she was still recovering from celebrating her nineteen birthday, three days ago?

"And you?"

It was my turn.

"Yes," then I quickly added, "With Ryan."

I felt guilty for telling her a lie, but the truth would have freaked her out. Ryan was my cover story. Tonight, I was The Stallion!

As instructed, I took the back road into the estate, and I parked at the rear of the building.

While I waited for the door to open, the nerves kicked in. Would I be able to perform, or would I get stage fright? Then it opened, and what I saw, didn't ease my nerves. In front of me was a stout woman. Her hands were on her hips, and she didn't look happy.

"You're late."

I wasn't sure that I was, but it was obvious that she was somebody that you didn't argue with.

I mumbled, "Sorry."

She then took me to my room, via the back stairs.

"Have a shower."

I nodded. It wasn't a request, it was a command.

"When you have finished, call the kitchen for food. The number is in the phone."

She then pointed to an iPhone that was on the bedside table. After giving me a stern look, she said, "Your first guest will be here at nine. Make sure that you are ready to receive them."

Then she was gone. I looked at my watch. I only had an hour to get ready, so I needed to be quick. Ten minutes later, I had showered, and I was ordering food.

At eight forty five, I had finished eating. The food was exceptional, worthy of a top class restaurant. However, no alcohol, just fruit juice. That was sensible. If I had been given vintage wine, then I would have been tempted to overindulge.

When it got to five minutes to nine I put the mask on. It was made of silk, and plain in design. It was functional, rather than decorative. I looked at myself in the mirror. It was perfect, only my eyes and mouth were exposed.

Even though I was expecting it, when the knock came, it startled me. Before I could respond, the door was opened, and a maid entered the room. Behind her was another woman. After dimming the lights, she said, "Jennifer, meet, The Stallion."

The second woman stepped forward. She then gave me a nervous smile. I offered her my hand, to put her at ease, and she took it. As I led her towards the two chairs that were in the corner of the room, the maid discreetly left.

We were now sitting, facing each other.

"May I have a glass of water?"

"Of course."

While she was drinking it, it gave me the opportunity to have a good look at her.

My guess was that she was early fifties, but she could have been older. Her stylish clothes, and very expensive jewellery, said money. Lots of it.

"This is my first time."

She had blurted it out, and it had taken me by surprise. Without thinking, I responded with, "You're a virgin?"

That made her chuckle.

"Far from it. I have been married three times, the first time when I was only eighteen. I meant the first time here."

She was now more relaxed. It was time for us to start.

We were now sitting on the bed, still fully clothed, and kissing. It was tender at first, but it quickly became passionate. When I pushed my tongue into her mouth, she greedily sucked on it. I responded by groping her small breasts.

While still kissing, I managed to unbutton her blouse, and then take it off. She then reached behind, so that she could unhook her bra. As soon as it was off, I was on her nipples.

Her tits might be small, but her nipples weren't. And they were very responsive. I was sucking on one, and tweaking the other, and she was moaning, almost continuously.

I was being paid to do this, but I was enjoying it as much as she was. Her tits were nice, but I now wanted her pussy. And I needed to get my cock out. It was trapped inside my trousers.

Her skirt was now off. She was naked, except for a small pair of white panties. She was a slim woman, with hardly any hips. I prefer my women to be curvier, but I would still enjoy fucking her.

When I started to take my trousers off, she stopped me, so that she could do it. She was now kneeling in front of me, as she did it. When they were off, she gasped. I still had my underwear on, but she could tell from the bulge, that my cock was impressive. When she lowered my Y-fronts, it sprang out, and she squealed with delight.

Then, in her posh accent, she declared, "That's a fucking big cock!"

It certainly was, and then, so that she didn't need to ask, I said, with pride in my voice, "It's nine inches."

That made her giggle, but then her face changed, becoming more serious.

"I only have a small pussy, so I am not sure that I will be able to take it all."

Then she smiled.

"But I am going to try."

I was now smiling as well. A big cock and a small pussy, is a winning combination. Especially when, like her, the woman is eager to be fucked.

Her panties were now off, and I had two fingers deep inside her. And her hand was slowly moving up and down the full length of my cock. She was right, her pussy was small. I would struggle to get another finger in. She was worried that she might not be able to take my full length, but I was now worried that she might not be able to take any of it.

I waited until she was highly aroused, before asking her if she wanted to fuck.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes, and my pussy is."

It was. It wasn't just wet, it was dripping.

I wanted to take her from behind, but that would be too much for her.

She was now on her back, and I was pushing her legs apart, as I tried to enter her. It took three attempts. I had wanted to stop after the second one, but she wouldn't let me.

"Keep trying. I want your big cock inside me."

After giving her six inches, or possibly seven, I stopped. She was now breathing heavily. She needed time to get used to my cock, before I started fucking her with it. She would let me know when she wanted me to continue. And shortly after, she did.

"Take it easy. My pussy has had its fair share of cocks, especially when I was younger, but none as big as this."

I started slowly, and with shallow strokes, but soon after, they became faster, and deeper. I couldn't help it. This was a nice pussy, well lubricated, and tight. Just as I like them.

It was a good fuck, but it ended too soon for me. Before I could give her all of my nine inches, she started to climax.

"Fuck, my pussy is going to come."

It then did, and she writhed about. I didn't bother continuing, because mine was a long way off.

It was a while before it ended, and when it did, I pulled out of her. She refused my offer of a shower.

"My Husband prefers me to come home with my pussy filled with spunk."

She didn't say, but I bet that he then goes down on her.

While dressing, she apologized for her foul language, but then she jokingly blamed me.

"It's really your fault, for giving me such a big climax. It made me lose control."

I was happy to take the blame!

Before leaving, she gave me a kiss on the cheek, and then she took out an envelope from her handbag.

As she handed it to me, she said, "It's against the rules to give a tip. So don't tell anybody, especially Rupert."

I had only just got into the shower, when the bathroom door opened. It was the maid. She could see everything through the glass, including my big swinging dick, but it wasn't bothering her.

"Your next guest will be here in twenty minutes."

"OK."

Then, as she was leaving, and with her back to me, I heard her say, in a low voice, "He has a horse's cock. So that's why they call him, The Stallion."

I had wanted to come inside Jennifer, but now I was glad that I hadn't, because I had another guest to service.

I was now showered, and ready for her. While waiting for the first guest, I had been nervous, but now I was just excited. What would she be like? Would she be as old as Jennifer, or younger? A beauty, or a dog? This was Christmas Day, waiting to open a present, but not knowing if it was something that I would like. If I could choose, she would be nineteen, very pretty, and blonde. Her tits would be impressive, and she would fuck like a rabbit. But she might be geriatric, ugly as sin, and with dog's breath. But whatever, I was being paid, so if she wasn't attractive, then I would just have to knuckle down and make sure that she enjoyed it.

This time, it was a different maid. It was the one who had greeted me when I arrived. And the expression on her face hadn't changed, she was still miserable.

As before, the light was dimmed, before the guest entered.

"This is Alison."

Then she left, without introducing me. I opened my mouth, to tell my guest who I was, but when I realized who she was, I froze. Fortunately, she spoke for me.

"And you are, The Stallion."

Then she giggled. I had heard her do that lots of times before, but not like this. This was heavy with sexual overtones.

"I need to freshen up my makeup. I want to look my best for you."

As soon as she was in the bathroom, I slumped into a chair. My head was spinning, and I felt sick. What on earth was I going to do? Ryan would find this funny, and interesting. He was majoring in Statistics, so he would try and calculate the odds of it happening. And he would conclude that what had just occurred, was extremely unlikely.

The attractive blonde, with impressive tits, and a curvy body, who was with me now, was my Mother!

She had now been in the bathroom for five minutes, and that was enough time for me to compose myself, and decide what to do. I was going to tell her that I wasn't feeling well, and that she would have to go. It was unlikely that she would complain to Mr. Grant, but if she did, I might lose my job. But that was of secondary importance. My only concern now, was to get her out of the room, and as quickly as possible.

When the bathroom door opened, I was ready. But then I saw her. The tailored blouse, and stylish skirt, were off.

"What do you think? Not bad for a forty three year old Mother of two."

Then, before I could agree with her, she twirled around, so that I could see all of her. It was something that a child would do, to show off their clothes. But she was a mature woman, doing it to show off her sexy body, that was only covered by matching bra and panties.

If she had kept all her underwear on, I might have been able to stop now. To tell her that I was sick. However, taking off her bra, was a game changer.

"Have you ever seen bigger nipples than these?"

I could hear the pride in her voice, and I knew that she was expecting me to say no. So, even though I had, I wasn't stupid enough to say yes.

I shook my head, and then I said, while smiling, "No."

We still hadn't crossed the line, but we were standing on it. It wasn't too late to back off. Then she started to pull her panties down. By the time they were around her ankles, my cock was doing its best to burst out of my trousers.

After stepping out of them, she walked towards the bed, wiggling her hips in an exaggerated manner. I couldn't take my eyes off her. Then it got better. She was now lying on her back, with her knees high, and her legs wide apart. She was showing off her prized possession, her juicy pussy.

Despite the low lighting, I could see it clearly. I knew that I shouldn't be looking at it, but I couldn't resist. And surprisingly, I wasn't feeling guilty. Perhaps it was because she didn't know it was me. And if she didn't know, then was there any harm in it?

She had given me the opportunity to inspect it, and I was making the most of it. She had neatly trimmed hair, that framed nice lips. And her clit was already out of its hood. Her pussy was slightly open, revealing the pink interior. And, unless I was mistaken, it looked as if she was already wet.

"I want you to entertain me."

She had said entertain, but she didn't want me to sing to her, or recite poetry, she wanted me to have sex with her. I was now like a deer caught in headlights, unable to move. This wasn't fight or flight, it was fuck or flight. But what should I do?

When she put a hand between her legs, so that she could play with her pussy, all my willpower left me.

I was now on the bed next to her, and we were kissing. We had kissed before, but just as a Mother and Son, and not on the lips. This was the real thing, full of passion.

When I went for her tits, she unzipped me, and her hand went inside. But she couldn't get my cock out. We stopped, so that I could take my trousers and underwear off.

She was now looking at it, and it amused me to see that she was licking her lips.