Handjob Club

(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.

But we had to go through our own little theatre. I went round to her house and met Simon and their son, a lovely little boy. I had a low-cut dress and as I bent down to talk to him, I made sure Simon could see well down into my bosom. Apparently, when he was later told that my husband didn't like handjobs, he snorted that he must be an idiot not to want to come on tits like those. Which was something I hadn't considered. He was a little shorter than average but didn't have a belly and was overall pleasant both in appearance and in behaviour. In a different life I would have been glad to have him as a boyfriend at least.

I don't know what she said, but was not surprised to hear that he had agreed to her offer of a one-time handjob by me.

We decide not to do both deeds on one evening. Delia came round first. She was a bit like Clarissa - not spectacular in any way, but it all went together so well. She looked a picture in a modest print dress she could have worn to church. We had told her what to do, and she made the usual speech about a thankful woman, and he acted the reluctant gallant.

She took off her dress and laid it carefully on a chair back. Then a modest but rather pretty pink slip, and presented herself in white bra and panties. She had no tights. The HJC had decided that it was best if we did not undress completely so that the husband did not expect anything more than the handjob. It was very far from striptease; just a modest woman taking off some of her clothes. However, Peter looked as if his eyes would be coming out on stalks, he appreciated it so much.

He sat on the bed and she applied some lube then we all watched her little black hand moving up and down his straining cock. It must have been less than a minute before he erupted, going "Oh fuck!" in what I think was a mixture of pleasure and exasperation. He was mortified and we were sympathetic.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "If you could wait, we could try again later, and it would be longer for you," he continued in a voice of pathetic hopefulness. Of course, I had slightly forgotten it was supposed to be a favour to her. Also I had never thought about her doing it twice.

"No, I think we have to be going," I said briskly. "We..."

"It's all right," Delia interrupted. "I can wait. It's very kind of you, Peter. Perhaps we could have a cup of tea and relax for a while." She got dressed and sat there innocently, while Peter put on a dressing gown. So this was something new.

So we did have a cup of tea and a very pleasant chat. Peter told her about his job (which I always find boring) and she expressed interest. Probably not real, but she was very polite. Men usually think a good conversation with a woman is where they tell you about themselves.

Eventually he said "I think I am nearly ready."

"No," she said firmly. "We will wait till you are good and ready." It must have been an hour and a half before she allowed him, and he was good and ready.

She got undressed as before, then said casually "I hope you don't mind," as she took off her bra, and smiled so sweetly at me and then him. Were things getting out of hand? I smiled back, and it was clear that he didn't mind - nobody would. She had the kind of tits best described as cute. Not very large, but perfectly shaped, with nice firm nipples.

This occasion she had more time to vary her technique: one hand, two hands, up and down, twisting and so on. I appreciated her body as a work of art and enjoyed the contrast of their two colours as she manipulated him. It was a good while before three people achieved satisfaction in different ways. And I mean it was quite a while and it was good throughout.

"Thank you so much," they both said at almost the same time, and we all chuckled.

So that was a new experience, though not how we had planned. I was looking forward to my turn, though getting a little worried. However, before then we had the club meeting, where they wanted to know all the details.

When Delia related Simon's comments, Clarissa said "He's right of course. Fiona has great boobs. Any man would want to come on them," and the others nodded in agreement, which gave me a little thrill. Delia also described very well what had happened and was open about her own enjoyment. We were so pleased for her, but all agreed that it would be a one-off.

My experience was also not what I planned, though in different ways. Simon was, I suppose, somewhat more masterful, which I rather liked. I was in my bra and panties and he was sitting on the bed, erect in both his pose and his organ, and I got my first look and feel of a black cock. It was bigger than Peter's, about the same size as Clarissa's husband, but not mushroom shaped and with a foreskin. I think it may have been a tiny bit thicker in my hand. It looked and felt wonderful.

"For heaven's sake, woman!" he said. "Take your bra off!" and I meekly complied. He let out a satisfied grunt which I admit pleased me. He reached forward and Delia slapped his hand. "That's not allowed!" she said, and he meekly complied, which tells you something about their marriage.

He must have tossed himself off earlier (smarter than Peter) as he seemed in no hurry to come. Which was fine for me, as I got to luxuriate in the feelings both emotional and physical - and of course sexual. I was glad I had been smart enough to wear a pad in my panties, or they would have been embarrassingly wet. I had enough time to consider and decided that I liked having the foreskin, and the way the knob peeked in and out as I moved the skin up and down.

Then he started panting and was clearly about to come. I was wondering whether it would be thick or thin when he grunted "I'm going to come on your tits!" grabbed his cock and pushed it onto my chest where he proceeded to fulfil his promise. If he had already relieved himself earlier, then there was quite a lot. I am sure Peter would never deliver so much the second time. He spurted several times, and it was quite thick. I unconsciously rubbed it in, feeling satisfaction - flattered, I suppose - that I had caused a man to lust in this way. Peter was definitely going to do this next time.

I had a momentary fear that he was going to say something like "You're my bitch now!" as you get on the internet, but he was quite charming.

"That was wonderful," he said, "and you're a lovely lady. I really think you ought to encourage your husband. Please do try to get him to come on you. I am sure he will like it." I thought I would.

Turning to Delia, he said "And you, my darling wife! How can I thank you enough? I've had my fantasy at last, and I'm satisfied." They kissed lovingly, and he turned back to me.

"I know this is just one time, so I probably won't see you again. I do hope it was good for you, and I hope things improve with your husband. If they do, perhaps we could all meet up some time. I won't say anything, of course." I was fairly stunned but managed something like "Yes, that'd be nice some time."

I hurried home, grabbed Peter and wanked him onto my tits. He was puzzled but not at all displeased. "Wow!" he said. "So this is what seeing me with Delia does to you! Perhaps I should see her again." Whoops!

And that's when it started to go wrong. Both Peter and Simon made clear (with what males regard as subtle hints) that they wanted another go. Since I had actually brought other women to him quite a few times before, it was not unreasonable of Peter. So we arranged another session. And another. And another. Let's be clear, the two wives were getting a benefit as well. Peter enjoyed and was enjoyed by Alice and Clarissa as well, and I of course had their husbands. All the girls reported that the handjob club caused their husbands to be more attentive in both a sexual and a loving way, so it was win-win all round until one of the husbands worked out what was happening.

It was Delia who telephoned me. "I've told Simon," she said.

"You what? How did he take it?"

"Well, I didn't exactly tell him, he worked it out and I admitted to him." (See, smarter than Peter.) "Just about me and Peter, not about anybody else. He was actually amused and said he was relieved it wasn't something more. He said he was glad I had been getting the equivalent, because he felt guilty about fancying you. The fact that we both fantasized about black and white shows how similar we are. And he wants you and Peter to come to dinner."

So I told Peter that for every handjob he had had, I had given another one, and he laughed too. He said we had both been lacking in the variety of sexual experience that most people had, so it was good that we had now got it without actually having an affair. He had felt guilty that he was the only one and had wished I could do something similar, but didn't know how to suggest it. The night I made him come on my chest made him wonder if I was. And he would be delighted to have dinner with Simon and Delia.

So we did. A nice dinner it was too. We both admired their little boy before he was put to bed and we then relaxed in the lounge. Simon and Peter got on very well, especially talking about their jobs as the women raised eyebrows at each other. We talked about everything, except sex of course.

Then Simon remarked "Peter, my man. It's a great pleasure to meet you at last. You know your wife has great tits, and I love the way she tosses me off."

"I think Delia has cute tits as well," he responded equably. "She's so pretty, and I love the way she tosses me off."

Delia and I sat open mouthed at their casual bonhomie.

"Glad to hear it," came the reply. "Now, Peter. I would really love to screw Fiona. How would you like to screw Delia?"

"I would be delighted, Simon, but only if they want it too, of course."

"Naturally, but even if they don't, I'm glad to know that you fancy my wife, and I think you appreciate knowing that I fancy yours."

"Indeed," said Peter. "Whichever way, it's good to know. Shall we ask them?"

They turned to us. "Delia darling, how would you like to screw Peter as well as tossing him off?"

"Fiona, my love, how would you like to screw Simon as well as tossing him off?"

We now looked like goldfish, and with their capacity for speech, but turned to each other and looked. Then we nodded.

"That's settled then," said Simon cheerfully. "Anyone for another drink?"

We therefore arranged civilized wife-swapping within the friendship of two couples with happy marriages. Safe sex, of course. Simon was permitted to enjoy my breasts, which he certainly did, and I liked his attention. It was more than the novelty: I had the best of both worlds with a boyfriend and a husband, who both liked each other. Delia of course had the same and was equally happy.

Delia and I withdrew from the handjob club but still went to the meetings quite often to hear the latest developments. A couple of the husbands were told or worked it out and seemed quite happy to our great surprise. Eventually they all knew. Only one was unhappy, but apparently the marriage was falling apart anyway. A couple of the girls even followed our example with the other couple and the enthusiastic support of their husbands.

One day Clarissa approached me and Delia. "Look, it's shallow, I know, but several of the girls were looking forward to some black cock, and Fiona has still not had many. Now all the men know, there's no reason not to have the grand tour. What do you say for coming back for one last session?" We said we'd ask our husbands. Have a guess at the response.

So every girl still left in the HJC got to pull every cock, and every man had every girl to do it. We said only once, but I guess we will probably be persuaded at some time.

Delia wanted another child, and eventually had a lovely daughter. She said it was good to know that I was keeping Simon satisfied while she took a break. Handjobs continued to be popular, of course, and my tits had a lot of semen rubbed into them. I had my tubes tied and then enjoyed both men's spunk inside as well as outside, sometimes one after another. Perhaps even better, I got to be Auntie Fiona to a couple of wonderful kids. I was delighted to look after them while Delia enjoyed both men (and was enjoyed by, of course), or simply had time alone with Simon.

It was a great idea Clarissa had had, and it worked out even better than we could have dreamed.