My introduction to this club came during a stay in Manchester. I was on a business trip and as a way of passing time in my hotel room one evening I tried looking up some websites about Petra Marchant, a high society girl whose pictures had long fuelled many erotic fantasies. I had built up an enormous collection of photos on my computer, many of high definition and beautifully enlarged. And so I spent many gratifying moments masturbating over them.
As I trawled through the websites, one in particular caught my attention. It was advertising a club, in Manchester, going under the name of the 'Petra Marchant Appreciation Club'. I was intrigued. It sounded respectable and yet I suspected that the name concealed its erotic purpose. It gave a phone number and so somewhat nervously I dialled and waited, dry mouthed. A cheerful and somehow familiar female voice answered and prompted by my hesitant questions gave me details of the club's location and times of opening.
It was still early evening and having learned that the club stayed open till the early hours I made a decision to give it a try. My heart was pounding in anticipation of what the evening would hold as I stared out of the taxi window and took in the glistening dark streets. In only ten minutes or so the taxi drew up outside an ordinary looking suburban semi-detached house.
Having been assured by the taxi driver with a knowing smile that this was indeed the right place, I paid him and then walked hesitantly up to the front door. To my utter astonishment, and delight, the door was opened by none other than Brooke Sangster, one of the stars of a local TV soap. She looked radiant in a pink chiffon dress, which emphasised her lovely breasts, and she greeted me in her inimitable Northern accent.
I couldn't believe this was happening, for Brooke was another of my masturbatory fantasies. I loved her voice, her lovely face, her mane of soft brown hair and the firm breasts that had burgeoned during her teenage years. As I stood open mouthed in front of her Brooke broke the awkward silence and answered the question that was framing itself on my lips.
'Yeah, I know, you're wondering what I'm doing here when you normally see me on tele. Well, believe it or not, I've been a fan of Petra for ages and I fancy her like crazy – and yes, I'm a bit of a lezzy like in the programme – but I fancy being with blokes as well. And I know how much you blokes really lust for Petra. So, I thought I would set up this little place and then we can all be happy!'
She gave a delightful throaty laugh and looked at me quizzically. Despite my nervousness in this strange new situation, my cock was hardening inexorably in her presence as I took in the soft translucent layered chiffon of her dress and the firm breasts that seemed to strain for release. Brooke's searching gaze took all this in and she smiled softly.
'Is it me or is it the thought of a couple of hours with Petra that's caused a stir down there?'
She grinned as she brushed up close to me and let her hand linger on my imprisoned erection. Her perfume was intoxicating and I longed to kiss her but knew I must hold back.
'Come on,' she whispered, 'I can tell you're in urgent need of some Petra therapy.'
With that, she grasped my arm and led me up the stairs to what seemed like an ordinary bedroom but which was furnished with a large leather recliner chair and on the wall in front of it was a huge screen. The room behind the chair had items of projection equipment and next to the chair was a stool. As I took in the surroundings in more detail I noticed a variety of wall posters, all photos of Petra and draped casually over another chair were various items of lingerie – nylon panties, slips and glossy pantyhose.
'Make yourself comfortable...John, isn't it?' Brooke enquired. I nodded as she continued with a cheerful smile, 'I'm just going to the next room to see how Martin is getting on.'
With that, she left me in a waft of perfume and I then heard her talking to the guy in the next room. It was in that moment that I understood what lay ahead of me.
I could just make out what Brooke was saying and the words had an immediate effect on my already desperate hardness.
'Oh God, Martin, your cock's got really