(As I have previously told, I was in a group of wives who met each week, and had started giving handjobs to each other's husbands, with each man thinking he was the only one.)
***
We occasionally brought other girls along to our evenings, such as a visiting relation or someone temporary at work. The only problem was that we had to guard what we said. I suspect they guessed this and didn't usually ask to come back. That is until Delia.
It was Olivia's fault. She brought Delia along, a new girl at her work. Delia loved it, and said "You do this every Wednesday? Great, I'll look forward to it." And she did.
Now don't get me wrong. She was absolutely great. Everybody liked her, a wonderful addition to our little group. Except of course for the HJC which we now could not talk about.
Then she mentioned the H word and the fact that she was black. And she was, not a bit dusky, properly black, and rather pretty. We white girls all knew that our husbands would appreciate her. And we wondered what her husband was like in very particular respect.
She said "Do any of you have tips about giving handjobs, because I think Simon is getting a bit bored? I'd like to spice it up a bit." There was silence.
"Oh," she said. "I'm sorry if I offended you. I just thought we were all married women together, and with some of the other things you said... I should leave." And she was trying not to cry.
"No, no," said Clarissa. "No problem. We were just a bit surprised, that's all. I'm sure the girls here can make some suggestions." So we did, and she smiled weakly as she listened.
At length she remarked "Of course, what he really wants is a white woman." We were not only silent, but holding our breath. "Oh God! I've done it again. You'll think I'm a terrible person, but it's well known, isn't it? Black men want to have sex with white women; white men want to have sex with black women. Oh that is so racist, I didn't mean all men, I...er." And she got up crying, and left, despite our efforts to stop her.
Olivia was also in tears. "Sorry, everybody," she sobbed. "I've well and truly fucked up. With you and with her. I'll see her at work tomorrow and try and sort it out, but I'm afraid I've really spoilt things."
The meeting finished in gloom, and Clarissa said "Let's agree that the guys are getting no service this week. We should all have a think and discuss matters next Wednesday."
Next Wednesday we collected together, not very cheerful until Olivia arrived, smiling, along with Delia. "I've told her about the club, and she thinks it's a great idea."
"Yes," said Delia with a big grin. "No wonder you were surprised. I sorry I misunderstood, but I'm in if you'll have me. Simon can be jacked off by white woman, and I wouldn't mind holding a white dick for a change."
"Then that's easy," said Emma. "You can swap with Olivia, she's your friend."
"Oh no," said Delia quickly. "I see Olivia every day at work: I don't want to see her with my husband."
"Well," said Clarissa, "I think Fiona has had the fewest cocks of us all. Do you think Simon would like her?"
Delia looked me up and down. "Oh yes, with those tits, definitely. I hope your husband's a bit of all right."
"He's OK," said Alice, not as strongly as I would have liked, but probably quite accurate.
"And I wouldn't mind a go some time," added Emma.
"With Peter?" I asked.
"Oh, well him too. But I meant pulling a black cock, obviously." The others seemed to agree. I don't think we were racist, just shallow.
To persuade Peter to do a favour for a friend took such little effort that it is not worth describing. The fact that I told her Delia was black and pretty may have had something to do with it and also his performance twice that night.