The Woman's Club

Foreword

Hmmm they say write what you know (I hope this doesn't get me into any trouble).

Preamble (get over it hehe)

Most of my attempts at "erotic fiction" have been essentially to amuse female icq friends. That much said my fiction won't will have the male audiences in mind much. Sorry guys. This is my first ever deliberate and intentional attempt to write erotic fiction. Please understand I am going at this from a newbie perspective (including inserting this silly disclaimer).

I thought this notion up the other day while reflecting on what I might write about. Part of it is actually based on my life (I will let you figure out those parts); part is the zany world I would think would be interesting to live in. I am actually appearing in the story though. With a little luck this will spawn some manner of follow up (I think a book is expecting a bit much currently). I don't write specifically short stories unless forced to. So this will explain why it's not a quick read.

I am going to call this work "The Women's Club". If this story succeeds I will just run with it, and add more eventually.

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Prologue

How it all began…

Zoom back to 1993….swoosh.

Bob was finally coming to grips with it all, and none of it looked promising. Life had been a steady string of personal let downs. So what, what's one more eh. Fybromyalgia; what a wretched word to try and get used to. And such a flaky sounding condition too. He still wasn't sold as he mused discontentedly.

"There must be something else wrong with me."

He just couldn't accept it all. No wonder the medical community was so skeptical.

Bob suffered through several years of depression, and the depression sure was real. Getting a disability pension based on depression though, that was somebody else's idea. He reeeeally didn't care. The process of getting accepted for the pension; what a pain in the butt all that was. Just an endurance contest apparently, it didn't seem important whether the applicant said this that or the other thing. It was all about whether the person would not accept no for an answer.

Several years of pointless counsel ensued. As well as several years worth of trying one damn feel-good pill after another; it was all pointless. Would it ever end? Oh it ended alright. Not how you would suspect though. And as you might suspect, they don't print any of this in the medical journals.

Picture a dreamy haze… an erotic event is transpiring. A woman clad in a soft flowing negligee all white and semi sheer. It's a floor length fashion, something that is more a wrap than anything else. Sleeves, and long flowing material to act as window dressing more than anything else. Soft and sensual to the touch, but in know way any manner of barrier to the contents within. She is sitting alongside the edge of a bed. The bedclothes disheveled and cast aside. Her attentions are riveted on the man lying there fully nude. He is sprawled as if tossed there upon the bed by some careless giant hand. His legs spread and head positioned as if he is not reeeeally present in the world. The man is in his own world of rapture currently. And with good cause, for the woman is performing some impressive miracles with her tongue. All along the shaft of the man's totally satisfied cock roams her delicate touch.

Lightly her tongue travels across his skin. Only the barest of contact is being made, but its clearly working. For from out of the opening of his cock flows a steady stream of fluids. One of her hands massages him below his balls, while her right hand, her best, encourages more and more fluids to rise forth. A steady grip is used, as she moves her right hand up and down his shaft. But oh god it's her tongue! She continues to flick and lick it across that portion just below the head. And wonder of wonders, she continues to insist on licking through the slit of the opening, not allowing any of that fluid to escape or go wasted.

It has been perhaps 20 minutes since she began her assault on his reserves of composure. He is quite immobile, just lying there groaning and murmuring constantly. A steady babble of pleasing sounds to her ears. His hips have stopped jerking, not quite as much in the last few minutes. It appears as if he has found his groove. Her pace has been maintained though through it all. Slowly it becomes apparent this won't last much longer. With suddenly great heaves his hips jerk upward. His arms become taught as they clench the bedding. The woman sensing it is nearing time slides his shaft into her mouth. She is ready for the last act. With several energetic pulses his warm sperm comes flushing out into her waiting mouth. He is clearly outside of communication, so she takes charge knowing what happens now is entirely up to her. Her right hand encourages his shaft to empty its contents. Each time that her tongue touched the head of his cock, he moans loudly. Finally it ends. The man lies there completely spent. He looks at his vision of loveliness, and watches. Slowly and with naughty intent, she proceeds to swallow down the contents of his lust just left in her mouth.

A giggle escapes from the woman as she adjusts her negligee so it isn't in her way.

"You are not finished dear" she softly speaks to him.

He adjusts his posture as she glides over top of him. With a flick of her arm the fabric is whisked away from her bottom. She nestles upon his lap as his shaft twitches.

"That was just a beginning. Now you owe me and owe me big. I intend to collect handsomely from you, my fine stallion".

Her moist charms glide along his shaft, positioning him till she reaches a comfortable position. His shaft returning to a rigid state effortlessly slides into her. Leaning over him, she begins a slow motion thrusting. He drives himself in and out of her. She lowers her head onto his chest to enjoy his warm feel, and proceeds to satisfy her own wants.

At this time the haze re-appears as the vision starts to fade away.

Bob wakes up and gets a surprise.

"Damn! Now that hasn't happened to me before?"

He looked into his shorts only to discover he has deposited quite a remarkable nice load of his very best sperm there overnight. Then it hits as he begins to wake up. He becomes quite agitated as he realizes he was that woman in that dream! And his shorts let him know he sure enjoyed himself. Bob is not at all impressed. Several months have gone past while on this latest batch of medicines. Slowly his desires or preferences have begun to wander. But this is the last straw damn it. There in begins a tirade through the house, collecting up any item that is pill shaped. It doesn't matter what the pills actual purpose is either. Tylenol, sinus medication everything.

"Damn bloody pills!!!"

Lucky for Bob's wife her birth control pills weren't around.

It took him 6 months before he was able to reflect that the medicines were seemingly gone from his system. He also distanced himself from the efforts of the psychiatry profession. The closest he wanted to come to including them in his life, was to hurl his very best invectives upon them. Then the moment of Bob's turning point came. It will seem odd to the casual observer, but so what it worked. Bob had long enjoyed chatting away the days on his computer. After several years of not having a great deal to do, it was likely inevitable. He was a great fan of chat software, one in particular was ICQ. He wasn't overly fond of it, but it worked to within his needs. He knew there were many differing ways to chat, but he never really strayed from ICQ. It was what he knew.

So it followed that Bob had a predictable list of contacts that he chatted with all the time. And logically they were generally all female. He had a few that he had known a great long time. Some better than you might normally expect was decent. Now in understanding the situation you have to take a step back. In the last year or so, he had been slowly recovering. The depression had lost its grasp, but he was still adjusting in many ways. Much of his behaviour while not entirely unique was being handled differently. He had, had a long chat with his wife. Finally coming to grips with something that had pestered him all his sexually active life. Bob you see liked to masturbate. Actually that might not be entirely clearly stated. He generally masturbated each day specifically till he was able to ejaculate. Not just fiddling with it. For years he was always hiding it and feeling ashamed by it. Bob had totally bought into society's dogmatic view that it was somehow wrong. But no more. Taking the bull by the horns as it were, he confronted to his wife. He made it plainly clear he did in fact do what he did. So that much done; the secret was if nothing else, sure no secret anymore.

It sure was refreshing, not being forced to spend so much energy on hiding his habit. He was now able to just be himself. And that meant he could and would do it openly if he felt a need. So there he sat most days. In front of his computer; bare assed; and happily chatting. And when one of his close friends was online, he was free to enjoy whatever response his friend caused in him. Most of his contacts in time were aware he sat like that. Not all were inclined to play online like that though. But he did have this one lass he enjoyed flirting with. And boy did she allow him to flirt.

Finally the silliness went to its furthest potential. She agreed to have cyber sex with Bob. Naturally he was amused, but this was something new to him. How is it done he pondered. Luckily Bob was blessed with a wondrous imagination. He had always had a fondness for ideal locales. For his personal favourite, he chose a quiet remote log cabin far into the Pacific Northwest. He decided to weave the perfect visit there with his cyber friend.

Sitting there as he was; nothing on below the waist; he was able to enjoy the perfect chance to please himself. What was perfect was his friend was at that moment getting out of her clothes. She was intending to do exactly the same thing. Bob weaved a passionate tale of a romantic encounter far from the trappings of civilized behaviour. She was spell bound by his musings. Bob was quite enjoying himself as well. The tale progressed for a long span of time. Both enjoyed freely masturbating, while indulging in a text based fantasy world. Finally the obvious conclusion arrived. He sat there wrapping up his imaginative story as he released himself onto a towel at his feet. His friend muttered about how her indulgences had the same satisfying ending. They chatted on after that for a time as if they had not been doing anything out of the ordinary for half an hour.

A couple of weeks after that encounter in cyber space, Bob was feeling unusually brave. He commented on how wonderful it would be, to hear her actually speaking his name while gasping through the throes of full orgasm. And wonder of wonders she actually granted him that wish. What a treat it was too. The .wav file was impossible to ignore. That was really her voice, and well who cared if it was genuine or not.

"Imagine a woman making those sounds, and saying those things". He mused to himself.

His name was all over the recording as well.

"Man what an ego rush."

Something very tangible snapped inside Bob's head that day. The dark gloomy thoughts faded as Bob felt manlier than he had in years. He had categorically pleased that woman enough for her to respond like that. And so began a journey that had no specific known ending. Other than the fact Bob no longer harboured any doubts.

That was then, this is now. A great deal of water has flowed under the bridge. Many things have been said and a good many things have been done. Bob's life is sure not what he expected it to be. But he doesn't seem to be complaining much. And that's when the notion of the Woman's Cub first entered into the picture. Comically enough, Bob cant claim to have thought it up either.