The Swingers Group Pt. 02

The Swingers' Group, Part Two: The Pleasure Table

It was only on our second visit to the swingers' group that we heard about the pleasure table. This was basically a massage couch, raised up so that you could work on it comfortably. To be more exact, so we could work on whoever was lying on it comfortably. It didn't happen every time, but occasionally someone -- almost always a woman -- would ask for some special treatment. It could be a massage, perhaps involving several people; it could be a gang bang; it could be anything she asked for.

We had only just arrived, when our host Miles came up. He did the usual polite stuff, like asking how we were, and whether we enjoyed our previous visit. Considering he had celebrated our joining the group by having sex with Mary I think he already knew the answer to that one. Anyway, we had returned for more, which speaks for itself!

"I don't think you've experienced the pleasure table," said Miles. "I'm hoping you'll help out, because not everyone's here yet, and Diana's keen to get started."

Diana, it turned out, was a tall, athletic-looking redhead. Our first sight of her was unusual, to say the least, as she was lying on the pleasure table face down and stark naked. Miles's wife Julie was in charge of events, and explained what was needed.

"Diana is a great fan of sensual massage," she explained. "We have massage oils there on the side table, and so far one other volunteer to be a masseur. She would like at least two, if not more. I wondered if you might oblige, Rant?"

"Go on, love," said Mary. "You do it extremely well, and I'd like to watch you doing it to somebody else. It'd be sexy."

I didn't need to be asked twice. However, I did bend down to introduce myself to Diana and offer my services.

"Sounds great," was all she said. "I'm ready and waiting."

Across the other side from me was a man called Greg. We introduced ourselves briefly, and agreed between ourselves and Diana that we would take it very slowly, and build up to what we hoped would be a pleasurable climax. Diana wriggled with pleasure at the prospect, and we picked up the massage oil dispenser and squirted a few drops on her back. She giggled.

"That's a bit cold," she said. "You have to spread it around quickly so it warms up."

That wasn't difficult to do. Greg and I simply took the side nearest to us and spread the oil around, giving a slow but firm rub to any muscles we could feel. We worked our way up her back to her shoulders, and down her upper arms, which seemed to be helpful. Then we reversed the path, rubbing down over her back and towards those muscular buttocks. I ran my fingers down into her bum cleavage a little way, but then diverted to give the nearest buttock a lot of attention. Greg was doing the same thing on the other side, and we worked down to the backs of her thighs and eventually to her calves.

"This is lovely," she said. "It's so relaxing."

We went over the whole of her back again, and as we got down to her thighs she parted them, almost like a reflex. Accidentally or not, this gave us a fine rear view of her pussy. The labia seemed to have swollen, and parted, showing a little pink wetness between them. I glanced at Greg, and we both moved to stroke the insides of her thighs with one hand, still massaging her buttocks with the other. Diana made a noise that was a little reminiscent of a purring cat. After we had carried on like this for a few minutes, she raised her head and looked at me. Her face was flushed, which I always think is a good sign in the circumstances, and without a word she turned herself over onto her back. She had lovely round breasts, large nipples, and a sweet little pussy with hair trimmed into a neat triangle. I do like to see pussy hair that has not been messed around with too much, much less shaved off altogether, as many women seem to do these days. An adult woman should have pubic hair, and shaving it off tends to make a pussy look a bit like the rear end of a plucked chicken. Besides, I'm told it's actually unhealthy, and renders a woman more liable to infections. Be that as it may, proper pubic hair is my preference, and I admired what Diana had.

There is no doubt that the massage was about to get a lot sexier, bearing in mind the easy access to all the crucial places now that she was on her back. We poured a little oil on her breasts, and then began to massage them in slow circular movements. I steadied her breast with my left hand, and use the other to move across it, gently running it over her nipple. Greg followed my lead, and we gave her a lot of stimulation this way. She must have liked it, because the nipples soon stood up very firmly, and seemed quite swollen up. This enabled us to run our oily fingers around them, gently pulling and teasing them and stroking their tips.

"Oh God," said Diana. "This does make a person very relaxed, and randy as hell."

"Patience," said Greg. "I'm sure we'll get to where you want to go."

"God, I hope so," she replied. "I wouldn't want to be left dangling."

We laughed, and Greg said there was no chance of that. But we did begin to move down her body and took the massage right down to her legs. She parted them even further, giving us a full view of the ultimate destination, now wide open with wetness beginning to run down her perineum. I reached and scooped some of it onto my finger. She looked startled.

"Waste not, want not," I said, and smiled. Then I slipped the finger into the crease at the top of her thigh. Greg was doing something similar on the other side. Each of us still had a hand on her breasts, still moving and stroking the nipples. With our free hands we stroked the insides of her thighs from the front now, and tantalisingly slowly we moved towards her excited pussy. When we finally reached it, and stroked her labia, she cried out with pleasure. Several people turned round to look.

"Oh yes," she said. "That's fantastic."

Her labia were now fully open, and her clitoris was pushing out from under its hood, her eagerness fully apparent. We decided it was time to go for it, and gently ran her fingers up and down her labia and across her clitoris, bringing excited cries from the woman we were massaging. She began to raise her hips rhythmically in response to our efforts, and was clearly close to orgasm. Greg and I exchanged glances, and slowed our stroking, trying to prolong the moment.

"Do you want us to stroke inside?" I asked.

"Not really," she said. "I mean, you can if you like it, but you're doing just great as it is."

So we contented ourselves with running her fingers up and down her labia, just slipping them far enough inside to tease the rim of her vagina, and stroking that beautifully excited clitoris. In the end it was more than flesh and blood could stand. With a loud cry, she threw her head back and raised her hips, panting and shuddering in the grip of an energetic orgasm. Greg and I stroked faster, trying to intensify the feelings for her. Her orgasm seemed to go on and on. There was actually some applause from the onlookers.

"Oh God," she said at last. "I think that's enough. Too much, too much."

"There's no such thing as too much," said Greg, "only too soon."

I entirely agree with that sentiment, especially where women are concerned. In fact, we hadn't entirely stopped our ministrations, just eased them off and moved our fingers away from the most sensitive areas. Within a short time Diana was panting and shuddering again, and we brought her to a second loud and clearly satisfactory orgasm. Once again we followed the same pattern, and within a minute or so she was approaching a third. This time she threw her arms down, gripped the sides of the couch, and thrust her hips so high her buttocks left the cushions. She bounced up and down several times, crying out with pleasure, until eventually she subsided, panting and smiling.

"Ooooh. That really is enough for now," she said. "Thank you so much. I haven't had such wonderful orgasms in a long time."

"My pleasure," I said, and Greg agreed.

"No it wasn't," said Diana. "But it was great."

"Well done," said Mary, taking my hand, and went on quietly as she led me away "Diana's on her own, you know. Apparently, her husband left her, but she's carried on coming to these meetings and getting some pleasure where she can. I think you've done something good there."

She reached down to feel the front of my bathrobe.

"Now, it's high time that you had some reward for your efforts. I think there are several women who saw what you were doing and got very interested in you. Let me introduce you to some of them..."