His face buried in her neck, breathing heavily. Her legs wrapped tight around his naked sweaty body, bringing him close to her. He thrust in and out of her, quickening his strokes as his breathing sped up. He inhaled quickly, moaning has he exhaled slowly. Knowing what he likes, she guided his hand to her heaving breast, which he grabbed willingly. She pulled his hair, exposing his neck, nibbling softly. He propped up on his knees, pounding into her; she felt herself tighten, preparing for climax. Gritted teeth, closed eyes, a firm hand on her big breast, he released inside her, out of breath and moaning. She squeezed him with her legs, pulling him closer, hoping for a few more thrusts to push her over the edge. His thrusts slowed, she felt him pulse, squeezing the last drops inside her.
"How was that baby?" she asked, running a hand through his sweat soaked hair.
He grinned at her, lost deep in her green eyes. "Amazing, as usual."
She kissed his forehead, nudged him out of her, and walked across the room to the bathroom. He sat up on the bed and watched. Each of their encounters she did the same thing, and he always watched her walk across the room. His manhood was soaked with their essence, two bodies locked. Getting into this "club" was the best thing that had ever happened to him; otherwise, he may not have ever met her.
"Listen, I know we've talked about not talking about breaking the rules..."
"LA-LA-LA-LA" she responded with her fingers in her ears.
He sighed and got out of the bed to go to her.
"Just hear me out, please."
She had just stepped into her panties and was pulling them over her butt when his hand grabbed her hips. Fingers dug into her hip bones and snatched the breath from her chest. She smacked his hands away and continued to dress.
"Everyone that's part of this thing has a reason to be here. We need this. The rules keep all this intact and I won't be the one to break the rules and shatter the whole thing." she said, pulling her pants up to her waist. Still naked, admiring her beautiful curves, he leaned against the opposite wall.
"I'm not saying we make it official, it's one function, and everyone will have 'arm candy'."
"One function?" she exclaimed, snapping her jeans and reaching for her bra. "This one function has how many members of The Club?"
"Probably all of them."
"Exactly!" She turned to face the mirror, adjusting her breasts in her bra. "What better way to be kicked out of The Club. I like it here, I need this. You do too. The Administrator has said its work..." she stopped suddenly. She had said too much. Speaking of the administrator was forbidden and only the B's spoke to her/him, never the A's.
The Club was formed several years ago by a Psychiatrist named Angela Benson. Dr. Benson had been seeing a young woman with a sex addiction who was finding it very difficult to quench her desire for sexual activity. Another patient was a young doctor who was a nervous wreck before every surgical procedure he performed. To her, she suggested a controlled outlet. A partner with the stamina to meet her needs, a clean bill of health, and unlikely to form an attachment. To him, she suggested a time proven method of stress relief. She gave them both disposable cell phones for discreet contact, and instructed him to contact her before surgical procedures, and her to wait for his contact to make it spontaneous. Neither partner had too many details of the other, and was told to keep conversation to a minimum. Their first encounter was an immediate success leading the young doctor to seek out advanced surgical procedures and skyrocketed his career, while the young lady found a healthy outlet to her urges and minimized the dangerous online behavior she had been doing prior. Dr. Benson saw this social experiment as an opportunity. What if sex before surgery was the key to reducing medical mistakes? This could save lives, greatly improve the quality of care given at her hospital, and as an added perk, decrease malpractice insurance premiums due to the much lower incident number at her facility.
"You brought her up! It is a woman, isn't it?" he asked her, eagerly.
She screwed up; he would not let this go unless he got something. "Yes, it's a woman. Not another word about it or I have to report it."
"Wow." he said with a step back. "That escalated quickly."
"We both know why we are here." she said, pulling her shirt over her head. "And I've said before, I won't be the one to ruin this for everyone else." She stepped into her shoes, put her keys in her pocket, and grabbed his hands. Still naked, he stood against her. Forehead to forehead they held hands silently for a second. She closed her eyes, fighting back the feelings she had tried so hard not to formulate. He stared down her shirt at her very full chest.
"Please don't jeopardize this." she said, eyes closed still, her thumbs rubbing the tops of his hands. "I need it as much as you all do."
He let go suddenly, "I'll leave it alone if you don't remind me that there are others. It's hard enough not thinking about it, I really don't need you bringing it up." He gathered his clothes and began to dress.
"I'm sorry, there's just more at stake than you and me." She said, leaning against the doorway, keys in hand.
"I have surgery soon. You know the rules, you go first." He said dressing himself with his back to her.
"Well I'm only available for another few days so if..."
He put a hand up, signaling her to stop speaking "I know what to do."
He walked across the room to her, grabbed her face gently, and kissed her on the lips.
"Thank you, Marilyn" he said with another kiss. "Until next time."
"Until next time."
Procedure dictated that the B's take the detached garage on the left, while the A's used the attached garage to limit exposure. She started her car, backed out of the garage, and headed home.
"We're not sluts." Vanessa said, finishing another colorful shot. "We provide a service; we are volunteers contributing to the medical community!"
Vanessa, a member of The Club, had introduced Marilyn to The Administrator almost a year ago, hoping to get her in.
"Would you be quiet about it? Let's get out of here; you know I hate this bar." Marilyn disliked nearly every bar. She was a homebody who preferred a bottle of wine and a good pair of sweatpants over expensive Martinis and heels.
"Fine." Vanessa said, downing the last colorful shot on the table. "You're driving."
Marilyn had known Vanessa since college. Both graduated with Communications degrees, but had difficulty finding meaningful work. Exclusive "Speak-easy's" tailored to Seattle's wealthy elite provided better pay than cold calling at local television stations, or filling coffee orders for the music producing industry. One of these places is where The Adminstrator approached Vanessa. She was tall, slender, with wide hips and a shapely chest. Hazel eyes and long straight hair from her Caucasian father, light brown skin from her Samoan mother. She was a 10, fit for any modeling industry, if she could contain her drinking. Vanessa was a registered member of The Club for over a year before mentioning it to Marilyn. Dumbfounded, Marilyn had many questions.
"So you just have sex with random guys...just because?" Marilyn asked one night at Vanessa's apartment over drinks and sappy Romantic Comedy movies.
"They are not random, and there is a reason, I just can't get into details" Vanessa said with a sly grin to her friend. Vanessa thought Marilyn would be a perfect addition to the B's.
Dr. Benson had recruited 4 local women to "engage" with the 6 doctors in her care. At her insistence, the hospital instituted a mandatory annual psych evaluation for the benefit of the staff. Positions below Charge nurse were excluded. She enjoyed being able to speak with the rest of the staff, but really needed a way to gather doctors.
"So who would it be? One woman? Many?" a doctor and perspective member asked.
"I have several women who participate. They understand the necessity of the task; have been vetted through background checks, references, under the guise of potential legitimate employment, and a thorough STD panel. All are negative; all are tested bi-monthly."
"And I just tell you I have a Laminectomy, or whatever may present itself, and you arrange a time and place beforehand?"
"I'm working on a calendar type procedure to align availability with the house and all the members, but for now, yes, I'm the middle-man, so to speak. For reasons I'm sure you'll understand, I can't provide references, no other member has been willing to do so. But I can provide results of my study over the course of a year before I started this invitation only club."
The doctor looked at the findings in the charts. Legitimate data, mixed with fictional patient details and locations did lead to a decrease in surgical deaths, post-surgery care, and a dramatic, almost total, decrease in surgical equipment left in patients.
"The reduction in retained surgical instruments alone is almost worth it." He handed back the study and sat down. "Ok, I'm in"