Too Much of a Good Thing Ch. 09

Too Much of a Good Thing: A Fantasy of Excess.

Chapter IX An offer he can’t refuse!

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I had lost all sense of time and place. I was aware only of the sensation in my fully erect cock and balls which seemed to be stimulating themselves! Only gradually did I become aware of the nubile, bronzed female form that was spread out beside me and of the long flowing black hair that was spread out over my stomach. Slowly memory returned and with it the ultimate wonderment that even after such a night my cock could experience sensation. And how! It was as though it had not been ministered to in months!

I don’t know whether you’ve ever had the good fortune to check this out, but it seems to be the case that once those hormones really get a grip on you innards, they hang around for as long as you can keep the stimulation going -- or rather, for as long as someone can keep stimulating you! Well if you wanted proof, here was me, having been the night before through at least 8 hours of continuous stimulation, having come at least six times, losing in the process what seemed like pints of semen, reveling in a blow job. My cock was iron-hard, it felt just wonderful, and I was the King of Arabia!

I lay still for a long time, not believing that this was real. A dream, surely? But as my senses revived and full memory returned, the gentle motion of the girl’s head as she worked my cock, the touch of the fine hair on my belly and the long, long legs, crossed at the ankles, knees bent, that swung in and out of my field of view, impressed upon me that this was for real. I must have made a slight movement, for the girl paused in her ministrations and turned her face towards me. An oval face, very pretty, unknown to me. “Hi!” said the face. “I’m Jill. I hope you don’t mind! I just love to service men, and your cock looked so inviting, I couldn’t resist!”

Hell’s bells! What was I to say to that!

Jill ‘serviced’ me for quite a while. I was in no hurry and she didn’t seem to be, so we made the perfect pair. As I became fully awake I began to pay more attention to her body, fingering her gently, finding her soft, moistening. By some mysterious mode of communication she understood what the pattern of stroking and stimulation my left hand was making on her pussy and inner thighs was intended to convey, and she edged over until she was straddling me and I could take her pussy lips in my mouth and play with them, as she was playing with me. She was very good at sucking cock, just enough, never too much and I followed her guide, sucking gently on her pussy lips until they began to swell, and running my tongue around her clitoral area. Occasionally I would flick her clit with the tip of my tongue directly. This Jill obviously liked very much.

For how long we maintained this soixante neuf I could not say, only that as far as I was concerned it could have been for ever! Her sucking became more earnest, as her breathing became heavier, and eventually I began tonguing her clit seriously. Her grunts and moans as she continued to work my dick told their story and it was not long before she was seriously aroused. She would raise her head and arch her back, thrusting her pussy into my face, then she would go back down to work on my cock. We went through these cycles for a long time, our increasing arousement palpable!

As the tension increased I could feel Jill’s legs begin to quiver. Then she clenched her thighs tight around my head, at the same time driving down so her entire genital area was in my face with her clit and upper vaginal lips clamped tight against my teeth and gums. A series of violent shudders accompanied by pronounced vaginal contractions announced Jill’s orgasm, which seemed to last for ever. And, wonder of wonders, as she came, her head closed down even deeper on my cock. I felt a massive groan welling inside me, kept locked in there by the pressure of Jill’s flesh, filling my mouth and nose so I could neither breathe, nor utter a sound. I was drowned in cunt, wondrously drowned! Jill clenched her teeth and lips firmly around my cock, clamped her hands around my balls, and she sucked the juices out of me, sucked and sucked as though her life depended on it. Together we rocked and spasmed in seemingly eternal mutual orgasm.

Eventually, the spasms subsided, but still Jill kept me in her mouth, sucking and licking, as I licked and sucked her dripping vagina. It was as though we wanted that long, long moment to remain for ever. Gradually, our organs and bodies grew limp and we collapsed together, a dormant inextricable, satiated pair.

Jill was the first to speak.

“That was good!” she said, sighing wistfully, as though sorry it was over.

“Holy Christ!” was all I could manage, spread-eagled beneath her. If that was only ‘good’, what would ‘fantastic’ be like!?

When she recovered her composure she said,

“Well that was a good start to the day! How about some coffee?”

Coffee, eggs, Canadian bacon and English muffins opposite a gorgeous, stark naked woman with whom one has just engaged in the most fantastic soixante neuf -- well, let me just say, if you haven’t had the pleasure, I’d definitely recommend it!

Jill was Candy’s ‘estate manager’, she said, and Yes! Candy had appointments ‘in town’ this morning and had asked Jill to ‘look after’ me. Er-hem!

“So what are your duties as estate manager”, I asked innocently.

There was a short pause.

“Let me see. How much do you know?” “About what?”

“About what goes on around here?”

My turn to pause! “Obviously not much! I was just asked by a good friend to stop by here yesterday evening and, well, it turned into something a bit more than I expected.” “Ah! Marie-Louise, I assume,” Jill said. “What a beautiful girl.”

“Certainly! And not without experience!”

“No! I would imagine not!” Jill said. “Though if she were my daughter, I don’t think I’d be sending her off to those hounds in the modeling industry!”

“Prior to last night I would have thought, like everyone, I guess, that a career in modeling would be rather glamorous.”

“Well it can be, Ron,” she said. “But most models pay a heavy price. It does affect them emotionally. They may make a lot of money, but most of them end up emotionally --- well, injured somehow. Only few escape to live a ‘normal’ life. Often they retire into themselves, become somewhat reclusive.”

“I see!” said I, not really quite seeing. “Well, anyway, you were going to tell me what is expected of Candy’s ‘estate manager’. Forgive me for being blunt, but you do not look like someone who mows the lawn!”

At which Jill gave a delightful giggle!

“No indeed!” she said. “ I do not mow the lawn.”

After a pause, she continued, “Well, I might as well be up-front with you because, why not? I’m not so much an estate manager as a manager of the Club.” “Club? What Club?”

“Yes. Good question. Well it really does not have a name, but it’s a bit difficult to explain. I know, why don’t we take a walk around the ‘estate’. That should make it pretty clear. Fancy some air?”

“Absolutely!” I said.

And so stepping out into the open air as naked as the day I was born, I began a new adventure. Somehow, though, our nakedness seemed very natural. The ‘no clothes’ rule, it appeared, was in force not only in the house, but in the entire estate! As we stepped out of a side door onto the grass, Jill took me by the hand and smiled up at me.

“I hope you are not easily shocked!” she said.

“Er No!” I replied, though considering! “I have seen something of the world.” “What we have up here,” Jill continued, “is probably not very common.”

We were walking on a plush lawn, like a soft velvet carpet, though it was cool to the feet. There was extensive shrubbery, trees and bushes, almost like a maze. It was a glorious day, warm and sunny. And the birds were singing.

“Now,” Jill said, “as we turn the corner, we will see some other people. I need just to explain that here, whatever you see, however the people are behaving, the rules are quite explicit. Everyone is free to do what they like, within bounds, of course, but equally, everyone is free to watch. There is no such thing as privacy out here.”

At which she pointed through a gap in the hedge. My ear had already caught the faint sounds, and now my eye registered there meaning. Two women lay side by side and head to toe and they were eating each other avidly. Their moans and sighs mingled with the sounds of the birds, seeming a part of nature. I watched in fascination, but if the women noticed they did not register it, they just continued sucking at each other’s groins and stroking each other.

“There are no real rules about this,” Jill said, noting my fascination with the women, “but an unwritten one seems to have evolved naturally. The estate is pretty much sectioned off. What you are seeing now is basically the lesbian section. Not that hetero’s or bi’s are barred, or even discouraged, but people seem to gravitate to their own areal and pretty much to stay there.

“I see,” said I, clearing my throat as I became aware that the couple I had originally spotted was only one of several, all engaged in more or less the same activity, and that in addition, there was a fringe of onlookers, women all, who were also, shall we put it ‘their own way’ enjoying themselves. Gradually the moans and sighs from the couples became mingled with those of the singles, the buzzing of vibrators, cries, gentle, urgent.

We passed along between two bushes and found ourselves in a clearing, a kind of amphi-theatre. The lawn was terraced over almost a full circle with the center lowered, a kind of natural stage. As everywhere on the estate, the grass was plush and thick. The terraces of the amphi-theatre were sparsely populated with women in reclining mode. Some were doing just that, simply reclining. Others were actively stimulating themselves, yet others were being stimulated by partners, male and female, one step down on the terrace. The terrace height and width was arranged optimally for stimulator and stimulated alike, both reclining comfortably, in for the long haul, as it were. And at the center of the amphi-theatre, on stage, was a bronzed young man of perfect build. His penis was truly huge, and fully erect and he was working at it with a powerful right hand, alternately stroking, fingering, massaging and wanking. His gaze seemed sometimes fixed on something in the far distance, sometimes on that monster of a cock, throbbing and bobbing as he released it to hang free and proud. Sometimes he would look directly into his audience, maintaining eye-contact with a specific woman, or switch between two or three in sequence.

“That’s Charlie,” said Jill nonchalantly. “Cute isn’t he!”

“Erm….” I suppose I let my surprise at the spectacle show through.

Jill laughed. “Many women,” she said, “get turned on watching a guy jack off. You’d be surprised!”

“So erm Charlie is erm entertaining the ladies?” I managed to get out.

“Sure is!” Jill said. “Can’t you tell!”

And looking around I could see her point. Most of the women were visibly turned on -- not a limp nipple in the house. And some were very aroused. And as if on cue, the involuntary aural signature of orgasm punctuated the general air of sighing and moaning like a harsh crow’s cry on the gentle cooing of doves. This cry seemed to catalyze more and in no time half a dozen of the women were writhing in ecstasy. One nearby held a mans head clenched between tight thighs. Her entire groin from mound of venus to anus seemed clenched between his jaws, which he worked from side to side in time to the shudders of her taut body. It reminded me almost of a shark and its prey! After an age, the prey collapsed backwards on the terrace, seemingly dead. And the ‘shark’ rocked back on his knees on the lower terrace, turning out to be another golden Californian boy not unlike Charlie.

“That’s Bill,” said Jill, catching my gaze. “He likes to work the crowd!”

“I’ll bet he does!” I muttered under my breath. Then louder. “Does he belong to the er – the er establishment?”

“Sure. He’s a house boy. We have about 25 of them under contract. College kids for the most part. Quite hard to find suitable guys. They have to have impeccable references. Doesn’t always go with good looks and a big dick! Big dicks are ten a penny, but discretion, you know, is difficult to buy!”

“I can imagine,” I said, though only guessing what she meant.

“How long can Charlie keep that up?” I asked innocently. “I mean, without coming.”

“Can’t say I really know. Couple of hours, maybe. I saw him come once. He’s pretty good at it. But it doesn’t do much for me, so I’m only here when I’m needed. The guys spell each other. Everybody has a good time.”

She took me by the hand and we meandered onwards through the shrubbery. Shortly, we reached the fringes of a clearing and paused. The clearing was also the source of much moaning and sighing and I rapidly saw why! It looked at first sight like the ubiquitous fitness center you see everywhere, always open to the outside so that you can see the sweating toiling glistening bodies. Here too, amongst the deep green of the foliage were sweating, glistening bodies --- except that certain parts of the body were exercised, shall we say, preferentially! There was also much apparatus lying about, some of which was in use, but one thing all items had in common was a phallus or selection of phalluses on which the exerciser impaled herself, either from above, from the rear, from the side. As you can imagine the poses were erotic in the extreme, and none more so than the variety of straddle apparatus, where the woman impaled herself on the phallus. Some were to be straddled in a kneeling position, others standing, with legs spread wide, but the most interesting of all were genuine trellises where the women could not reach the ground with their feet, but lowered themselves from a beam. They were impaled upon the phalluses with their full weight taken by their arms and their cunts. For good measure, a number of ‘Doms’ circled the group, occasionally lashing out with wicked looking multi-lash whips and sometimes stopping by one particular woman and laying on a pattern of lashes. 25 I counted on one woman, ten on her back, five on each breast, five on the stomach, each lash leaving behind a characteristic pattern of welts and weals. The women cried out with every lash --- ecstasy or pain? Probably both. Pleasure through pain. Candy’s motto.

Jill’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“All voluntary, you understand. Masochists paradise here! Can you hear that humming sound?”

I nodded, suddenly becoming aware of it, and in the same instance understanding its origin. The phalluses were ‘alive’. They were vibrators.

“The Doms control the vibrators. They can make them hot or cold, too. The Doms control everything here. Once you step into that clearing they decide. You have your safe word, but if you use it you are banned for a month. The Doms love to take you to your limit.”

“Sounds a bit gruesome!” I said.

“Well if you go for that kind of thing,” Jill replied. “But I’ll bet it turns you on Ron?” My silence was eloquent!

Again, Jill seemed to read my thoughts. “It’s not serious S&M, Ron, “ she said. “But many women enjoy, shall we say, mild chastisement. For them it’s not only pain….” “I know!” I interposed. “It’s pleasure through pain!”

“Aha!” Jill said. “Of course, you have already been introduced to Candy’s World.”

“Er Yes! Last evening I was assisting Candy with Marie-Louise’s ‘training’.”

“Yes! So I understood. And according to Candy you assisted very well, and even” -- I swear there was a twinkle in her eye --- “enjoyed yourself quite a lot!”

The memory flooded back. The sight of that waif of a girl being cunt-whipped to the limit of her endurance. I had to be honest. Shocked, Yes! But excited, even thrilled too. As subsequent events proved all too dramatically, I had been royally ‘turned on’.

“I tried it once,” Jill said nonchalantly, “but it didn’t do anything for me. I used my safe word pronto, and never went back for more.” She laughed delightfully. “Let me show you what I do like.”

We continued our promenade to a quieter part of the estate. As rapidly became apparent, this was the ‘hetero’ area and we encountered, shall we say, conventional couplings. Here and there scattered about were seats, swings and hoists, each tailored to allow maximal enjoyment of all the positions in the Kama Sutra. I recognized several ‘house-boys’ -- they all seemed to be clones of one another --- and one of these was particularly vigorously laying into a dark-haired, masked woman who sat prone, almost lay, on a strategically placed bench with her legs wide apart almost parallel to the ground and her groin thrust over the edge of the seat so that the boy’s large cock could enter her to the hilt, as it were, and he could thrust in and out of her in the standing position. This he did, with the tempo of youth and exacting a grunt with every thrust. He was sweating profusely.

“That’s Mary. She’s quite insatiable. She’s a regular. I guess she must be the closest thing we have to a nympho. She has them fuck her like that one after another. All day. ‘Mary duty’, the boys call it, and hard she makes them work too!”

“I see that!” I said, meaningfully!

“So you will have gathered what we run up here.”

“Yes! It does seem fairly self evident!”

“It’s unique. A “Sex-Club” run by women, for women. Everything that happens here is tuned to one focus and only one. That women should have the opportunity of expressing themselves sexually and exploiting their potential for sexual enjoyment to the full.”

“Well I can definitely see here and there that the opportunity is being taken advantage of,” I replied emphatically noting that Mary’s grunts were taking on a more urgent tone.

“How does it work, with the ‘house-boys’? Are they ‘for hire’, just like prostitutes?”

There was a pause before she answered. “You could put it that way, I suppose. But I have never heard any of them complain, and we have a waiting list as long as you can imagine. For every house-boy who works here there are a thousand who would willingly take his place. And of course, members are free to bring their own men to the club. They can bring as many as they want. Just have to be signed in by a club member, who is responsible for their behavior. The men are here solely to pleasure the women, not the converse as it is in most clubs. We’re probably the only club on earth where men are at the beck and call of women and not vice versa. If they behave badly, the member is first reprimanded, then fined and if she persists in bringing men to the club who behave undesirably, she can be expelled. I’m proud to say, though that we have never had either an expulsion or a fine.”

“I see.” I said. “And how does one become a member of this club – aside from being a woman I mean.”

“Ah! Now there you have it, Ron. It’s a very exclusive club. Money is the first requisite. Lots of it! But money alone is not enough. The members are very particular about attractiveness. They don’t insist on a woman being pretty if she is not, but she has to keep herself in shape. Everybody in this club is lithe and attractive. And any member who lets herself go rapidly comes under fire. ”

“So you have to be a woman, have an attractive body and be rich. What else?”

“Well you have to find out about us, Ron,” said Jill with that delightful twinkle in here eye. “We don’t exactly advertise, you know. It’s word of mouth and word of mouth only. The only people who know about us are the members and the people they tell. But enough…”

She took me again by the hand. “Let’s go where I like most!”

And so we continued our promenade into a region of the estate where the foliage thickened and the air became still and silent. Jill placed a forefinger over her lip motioning me to silence and pointed. Under the shade of a large poinsettia lay a couple side by side in the long grass. They were kissing passionately locked in embrace. His free hand stroked gently over the white skin of the girl caressing her back, her buttocks and thighs and disappearing into the cleft of her sex. The girl’s free hand fondled her lover’s cock and balls. She ran her nails up from the base of his balls to the tip of his cock, circled the head, then grasped the rigid shaft in her fingers, and wanked him gently. They repeated this pattern again and again, never ending, interminably. It was a scene of great serenity and extreme eroticism.