The E-Club

For the next week I thought about my new friend Colleen a lot, while I was away on a brief business trip. Actually, I'll confess I didn't think about much else. I turned over in my mind how I had met her on a commuter train and had her show me her breast before I even knew her name; how we had enjoyed seeing and touching each other's bodies, and those of others, getting acquainted at my friend John's secluded E-club; how vivacious and adventurous she was; and how we had talked frankly on the way back to the city. Her openness with her body and with her emotions had me hooked. Of course, being gorgeous didn't hurt.

We talked on the phone every night, and as soon as I got back home we arranged to meet for coffee downtown, where it turned out that we worked only a few blocks apart. When I arrived Colleen was already seated at a table against the wall, wearing a tight mid-thigh skirt and a simple blue cotton blouse that buttoned in the front. The way she bounced when she saw me, it was clear she wasn't wearing a bra.

I told her how glad I was to see her again, and what a wonderful time I'd had with her at the club. She said that she enjoyed it too. We leaned in close, across the tiny café table. I offered her some of the foam from my cappuccino on the little Italian spoon; she took it and got some on her lips and nose. "Do you like the way I look with white stuff on my face?"

I knew Colleen well enough by now to know that she would be titillated, not offended, when I answered, "I think you'd look even better with some of my own white stuff on your face."

Already the rest of the shop, the noise and bustle, had disappeared for us. I was lost in Colleen's overwhelming femininity. Her way of tilting her head and raising her eyebrows makes me melt and sizzle. Urgently she whispered in my ear, "I've got something to show you. Let's trade seats so I'm facing the wall."

After we moved, she looked me in the eye and slowly began unbuttoning her blouse. With each button I told her how sexy she was and encouraged her to keep going. When she was finished she took one of the button panels in each hand and pulled them forward and out like double doors, exposing her whole chest so that I could see everything, but no one else could. The setup was perfect. Colleen's nipples swelled and took form with her excitement, her chest heaving as she breathed hard. "I can't do this much longer - other people will start to notice, and they might give me a hard time."

The blouse closed, but Colleen left it unbuttoned. I was having a hard time already, so I adjusted my pants, unobtrusively I hoped. She noticed, with a subtle, uneasy smile. "Brad, I'm inviting you to come with me on a very special visit tomorrow."

Colleen left her blouse unbuttoned until we got outside. Even after all we had done at the E-club, and her exhibition a few minutes before, it gave us both a thrill. I spotted her bra, balled up in her purse. Then I told her about something she hadn't noticed - there was a mirror high on the wall of the coffee shop, and several guys had stopped behind her to enjoy her public display of bare breasts in the reflection. When I said that she shivered and grabbed my arm more tightly, thrilled at the display and the risk. "What's wrong with me? Why do I get damp when strangers see my tits, or my pussy?"

The next evening we approached a nondescript house in a nondescript neighborhood, not where I would have expected Colleen to take me. As we walked up the battered porch steps, she warned me, "It wasn't easy to get you invited. I had to vouch for you. It's way more extreme than your friend's club - the guy who lives here, Jake, specializes in having sex with strangers. I met him at another club. It might get pretty rough. I hope you can handle it."

Even if I couldn't, I wasn't about to admit it. "Let's go for it. But does that mean you'll be having sex in there, with that guy?"

"That's what it means. I'm sorry, Brad. For the rest, you'll see inside. And I'm getting horny already, just being at the door, I can't help it."

Colleen squeezed my hand, but let go when the door opened. We were greeted by a large, rough-looking man with a shaved head and lots of tattoos, the sort of guy you wouldn't want to meet in a dark alley. Barefoot, he wore a sleeveless t-shirt and black leather pants. He eyed Colleen, then me, asking her, "Is this your guy?"

"Yes."

"Ok, come on in, but he'll have to behave."

In the small, sparsely furnished living room we encountered two other men, equally rough and threatening. Colleen jumped when she saw them. "These are two of my buddies, babe. They're going to do you too."

Colleen shivered, but shook their hands. She didn't ask their names, and they didn't offer. I just stood there, feeling awkward. Jake offered us all a beer; we drank from the bottles in silence, the suspense thick and heavy. After a few minutes he and his friends sank into an old couch, and he said, "Ok, babe, it's time to start. Ah, stand in front of us, and have your friend there take your skirt off."

A little weak-kneed, biting her lower lip, Colleen tossed off her sandals and raised her hands above her head. Apparently she knew more about what was expected of her than she had told me. Dutifully I came up behind her, unhooked the catch at the back of her tight black skirt, and unzipped. Even in this situation, I couldn't help but admire her firm behind and the gentle flare of her hips. I held her hips at the sides as I slid the skirt down. Gracefully she stepped out of it, exposing tiny lace-edged bikini panties, red and nearly transparent, incongruously delicate and refined in this rough place. The three guys leaned forward to get a better look at her crotch; she hesitantly stepped forward to accommodate them. Jake sneered, "Look at you, bitch. Your panties are soaked already, we can all see the wet spot. You know what that means, bitch? It means your cunt is getting ready to get fucked, whether you want it to or not. Now take off that sweater."

It was the same pink sweater that Colleen had worn on that sunny, carefree day when I had met her. She unzipped and pulled it over her head, tossing it aside with her skirt. Now clad only in her panties and a matching bra, her breasts seemed larger than I had remembered them, pushed up and together. Her nipples, visible through the sheer fabric, strained with their miniature erections. "Ain't she gorgeous? Now, boyfriend, unhook the slut's bra. We want to see her tits."

I was getting into the thrill of display, and I knew Colleen was too, so I whispered in her ear that I was about to expose her tits to these men; she shivered as I unhooked and slipped the bra down her arms and into her pile of clothing. I knew how much she craved showing her naked body, but here it seemed reckless, risky. She might have gotten raped, except that she had already accepted that all of those men would fuck her soon. I saw her bite her upper lip, but she leaned forward to show these men her boobs. Jake got up and didn't push me aside as much as he completely ignored me, moving behind her and planting his rough brown hands on her white breasts, moving them around and pinching her delicate pink nipples. I didn't try to stop him because I knew she wanted it. He thrust a hand into her panties, squeezing her crotch. She doubled over, but stood again as he pulled up on a nipple.

"I'm gonna pull your panties down, so we can all see your cunt. I bet it's open already."

Unceremoniously he yanked as he had promised; Colleen was now naked, her clean-shaven cunt exposed to everybody, open and glistening with her wetness, obviously freshly shaved for this occasion. Her outer lips, swollen and starting to retract, betrayed her lust. Jake pushed her in front of his friends, inviting them to feel her up. She groaned, but let them do it, staring at me with an apologetic but resigned expression while their fingers penetrated her cunt. Sitting down again, Jake complained "I got a problem in my crotch, bitch. Unzip me and get it out."

On her knees, Colleen fished out his cock, then the other two. All of them seemed large and threatening. One had what looked like a huge mushroom on its tip, purple and angry. She licked their tips and squeezed their shafts until they nearly came. "I got another problem, bitch. I can't get a big peg in a small hole. We need to open you up."

Jake shoved three fat, stubby fingers up into Colleen's cunt, causing her to cry out. A sharp look stopped her. Then he spied her almost-full beer bottle and muttered, "I think I just got the answer to our problem."

He placed the dark brown bottle between Colleen's feet and motioned her to squat. She knew what was expected of her, staring at her tormentor as her knees bent. When her outer lips touched the bottle she grasped it and drew it along the length of her open redness, coating it with her juices, then pulled herself open and inserted the mouth carefully into her hole. Squatting further she pressed the bottle slowly in, stretching her sexual skin. When it penetrated her up to the widest part she stopped, panting and grunting. She had become a different person, yielding to Jake's kinky perversions and the laughing leers of his friends. He got up, pushed her onto her back, and twisted the bottle further into her outstretched cunt. "Ain't that beautiful, guys? We got us a bitch that drinks from both ends."

Tipping her further back, Jake poured the rest of her beer into Colleen's already-soaked cunt. "Ow, it's cold!"

She hadn't complained about the nakedness, or Jake's crude manner, or the hands on her body, or the fingers inside her, or even the bottle up her cunt, but now she shook and grimaced. As her vaginal walls warmed the beer it frothed and foamed out around the bottle, soaking Jake's carpet. With a final gush the bottle popped out, more foam spurting from her gaping cunt. "That's better, slut. Now you're ready."

We could indeed see Colleen's cunt gaping open as she laid back with her legs spread. Jake moved up to attack a tit. My friend squirmed as he sucked and chewed; when he released, her whole crotch looked red and swollen, glistening with his beer and saliva. He moved up on her body and gave one breast the same abuse, her nipple pulsing. Turning her body, she arched her back to get her other tit into his mouth; he treated it the same way. Now it was time: Without even taking off his pants, he grabbed her ankles to stretch her legs up and out, slammed his cock into her and started a vigorous fuck, forcing his whole length in and out each time. Colleen writhed and sweated under his undulating body. For the first minute or so she stared at me with a faraway look, struggling to hold my gaze as her head bounced and shook; then she was lost. Jake fucked Colleen without letup until he abruptly stopped, eyed her with a furious look, then pumped savagely with a roar. Her whole body shuddered. She was filled with his cum before he stopped, white goo leaking out around the ring of flesh where his cock met her cunt. She pushed up with her hips as though trying to get him to continue, but he was spent and withdrew. A gob of spunk oozed out onto the carpet, mixing with the spilled beer.

The other two guys had stripped in the meantime. They didn't bother with foreplay. One of them forced his cock into Colleen's mouth while the other knelt down, lifted her hips, and forced himself into her raw, soaked cunt. She was writhing, pulling on his ass with her tiny hands. He pulled out just in time to shoot a few streams over her whole body, up to her neck, before finishing himself off inside her. Immediately the other guy took over, flipping her over and yanking her ass into the air. He forced his mushroom-like helmet in from behind; we all watched him slide into her. He leaned back as she doubled over forward, laying her head on the carpet, so that we could see the point of penetration. A tall muscular guy, his cock was the widest and longest of them all, stretching her out even after the others had finished with her. We saw her flesh pulling out of her cunt on the out-strokes, clinging to his long shaft. After a long bout of continuous stroking he grimaced, grabbed her hips to pull himself all the way in, and came. Colleen's face turned bright red; she screamed and shook with her own release.

It was over. A thin, fortyish blonde woman with a hard-worn look appeared on the stairs to the second floor, holding a lit cigarette and wearing only a tight t-shirt that came down almost to her navel. She snarled, "All done, boys? Come on upstairs with me."

Jake looked up at this creature, probably his wife, and motioned his friends to follow her. Turning to me he said, "Go for it, kid. She's all yours, nice and ready." With that he followed the others up the stairs, leaving Colleen and me alone.

Colleen hadn't moved since the final fuck and her climax; she still had her head on the floor and her ass in the air. I stooped down and found tears in her eyes. "I'm so sorry, Brad. I know that was terrible, but I needed it so much."

I was just beginning to understand what made a seemingly sweet, vivacious young girl do these things. "Go ahead, Brad, take your turn. Fuck the shit out of me. Please."

I refused, even though my cock was like a pipe and she knew it. Colleen reached down and stroked it through my pants. "You don't want me anymore? I don't blame you, I'm sick and perverted and..."

Interrupting, I took Colleen's hand and told her that I wanted her desperately, but I had some entirely different experiences in mind for her. We heard male grunting and female moaning from upstairs. I helped clean her up, and on the way back from Jake's I asked her about her previous sexual experiences. She told me that she had lost her virginity to her uncle when she was 14.

"He and my mom's sister were visiting us for a few days. He was eyeing me a lot. I was flattered, and eyed him back. I was a skinny little thing, but I was starting to develop. He had a big bulge in his pants. Then when my aunt and my mother were out shopping, he grabbed me and forced me into a bedroom. He pushed me onto the bed, flipped up my little short skirt, and yanked at my panties. I guess I was asking for it, wearing that skirt. Before I knew it he was forcing his way inside me. It hurt a lot, but it felt so exciting too! It would have been rape, except that I let him do it. The next day he did it again, even faster, without asking. This time I was ready and I cooperated. I cried, but it was such a rush! Then they left, that was it. I never saw him again."

I took Colleen to my apartment and we talked for another hour, mostly her describing her previous sex life. After that first experience, she had stayed away from boys for over a year. She was still skinny, and didn't think she was that attractive. In high school it was mostly boys overpowering her in the back seats of their parents' cars, with her protesting weakly. Sensing a pattern, her parents had sent her to a protective private girls' college, one of the few left, but as a result her encounters with boys were always brief, sometimes violent, never particularly affectionate. She had never had a long-term relationship. Her father was domineering, her mother ineffectual. Tearfully she confessed that she had been to Jake's once before, a few months ago. "I had to go in just a tube top and hot pants. I looked like a slut. He stripped me naked and fucked me on his couch, then again on the floor. His wife stood there and watched the whole thing."

Then, sobbing, she broke down. "Why are you still talking to me? I'm a mess, I don't deserve you, but you can use me, strip me, fuck me, tie me up if you want, do what you want."

Finally I had my answer, why this sweet girl seemed addicted to rough sex. She was a virgin for real intimacy. Her compulsion for exhibitionism was her way of enjoying a sexually charged experience, though an incomplete one, without being violated. That confident, sophisticated façade couldn't hold in the face of her most secret sexual needs. I told her that I wouldn't fuck her that night; it was late, she would be sore for a week anyway, and I wanted her at her sparkling best, not like this. "When we fuck, it's going to mean something." She stared at me, mistrustful. I took her home.

I made a date with Colleen for the next weekend to see a movie, a light comedy, and come over to my apartment 'for a drink' afterward. She knew what that meant as much as I did. She wore a tight white top, a white miniskirt, and no panties, as I discovered when she placed my hand on her thigh in the movie and slid it up to her crotch. I subtly stroked her wetness, up to her clit. We were laughing at the movie, almost giddy, more with sexual excitement and anticipation than with the movie itself.

Back at my apartment I had set up everything in advance: music, candles, flowers, the whole romantic cliché. The second Colleen looked in she broke down again, sobbing uncontrollably on my shoulder. I just held her for a very long time, leaning against me and shaking. At the end she looked up, red-eyed, and told me that I didn't want what she was, what she had become. She half-expected me to violate her like all her other guys had done, thinking that the candles and flowers were just a cruel joke. To her all that romantic stuff was just a fantasy for other girls, or for the movies.

Gently I sat her down, got us glasses of champagne, and told her what I had concluded. She cried again, but this time it was different, and eventually her smile returned. It lit up the room. She tilted her head and raised her eyebrows, tentatively put down her glass as I put down mine, touched my face, and we fell into each other's arms with the most intense kiss of my life, and probably of hers. We stroked each other's faces, arms, shoulders, bodies and legs for a long time before I gently carried her to my big bed and unwrapped her like an expensive, fragile present. The urgent, degrading sex was over. We felt the magic of head-to-toe contact, skin on skin.

I told her, "Remember the day we met, at the E-club, when you told me I couldn't kiss your other lips? Now I can."

"Please. Touch me anywhere, do anything, absolutely anything. I want it."

I rolled Colleen onto her back, spread her legs, and slid down until my head was even with her pink-white nether lips. She was freshly shaved again, slightly perfumed. Gently, lightly, I licked the crevasse where her lips met. Slowly they opened, as I delicately licked her inner lips, then slid my tongue inside. Her head rocked from side to side; she cooed and moaned, her articulate language and intelligence submerged, drowned in overwhelming pleasure, leaving only the primal and the instinctive. I moved up to her swollen clit and sucked it into my mouth, working on its tiny erection while I explored her cunt with a thumb. Her hands pushed my head tighter in; when she could no longer stand it she pulled my head up toward hers.

The moment came; as I moved on top of her she snuggled my cock in between her inner lips, sandwiching its length along them. I asked her if she was ready.

"What do you think? I'm lying naked in your bed, on my back, with my legs spread, I pushed your cock into my pussy lips, and you're the most wonderful man I've ever known. I want you like I've never wanted anything in my life."

Entering her for the first time was a moment of discovery; we were both shocked, I think, at how the emotions and the lust melted together into something entirely new. Warm and tight around my cock, she held me in while we felt the surge of those feelings in what for her was a new way. It's strange that people don't smile when they are in the midst of one of life's most intense pleasures; instead the look is of pain, of struggle. We made love, real love, for the first time in her life. As I had hoped, that phrase 'make love' had a literal meaning for us that night. We used sex, long, slow, gentle sex, to create love out of our stew of fascination, infatuation, arousal and need.