The Needy Wives Club Ch 03

After he pulled me a couple of steps I yanked my arm free.

He turned, smiling.

"God," I said, taking a deep breath, "at least let me walk on my own terms."

His smile turned into a grin.

I took a deep breath, ran my fingers through my hair to get it under control, threw my shoulders back, and took his hand.

"Okay my conqueror," I said, "show off your spoils."

I have never felt more purely naked than I did as we opened the door and entered the main area of the Club. My hair was a mess, semen and my own natural lubricant were running down my thighs, my makeup was a wreck and my eyes had to be raccoon eyes with mascara running down my cheeks.

I realized, and was surprised to realize, that I was proud too. This handsome young man had wanted me. Had taken me. And seemed to be proud to be with me.

My brief reverie was broken by Arlene, of course, shrieking, "Well well well, look who lost her Club Cherry."

I giggled when she pushed the man who was playing with her tits away and came to enfold me in one of her warm, soft, embraces.

"Sooooo," she said in her loud, brassy voice, "what do you think of our little Club, Slutterella."

I giggled and said, "I think I'm in love."

Roger was back, then, offering me a drink, his own beer in a frozen mug.

"Did I hear the word love?" he asked.

There was absolutely nothing I could do to stop the blush that spread.

"Roger, honey," Arlene said, pushing herself against him, "you cannot monopolize the new girl. Now come with me," and she took his hand and led him to the dance floor where a few couples were dancing.

Leaving me at the bar, feeling awkward, naked, a mess, and sipping at my screwdriver without a clue what to do next.

Hell, I didn't even know where to look. Plus I was pretty drunk and still a bit high on whatever that white powder had been.

I jumped a little when his voice said, "welcome to this group."

I turned to look and almost laughed. There was no doubt in my mind that any ID he had shown proving he was 21 was false. Hell, I doubted he had a draft card. He was cute in that dark-haired, slender way that would either have him being asked to show an ID to buy beer when he was 40 or would have him looking 40 in about two years. But damn, he WAS cute right now.

"Well thank you," I said, raising my glass in a toast.

He grinned then, and I was reminded of Roger's grin, he obviously practiced in the mirror.

"You're my first too," he said.

Which made me giggle and ask, "first what?"

There was that Grin again.

"The first Club Virgin I ever saw deflowered," he said, and his intonation made the capitalization obvious.

I giggled at that.

He put his beer down and offered me his hand.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, quite formally.

I smiled.

"What is your name, dear?" I asked.

"Stan," he said with a smile so delightfully boyish I just wanted to take him home and feed him.

So I took a deep breath, wrapped my arms around his neck, pulled him down, and kissed him.

"Call me Judy," I said, and giggled, taking his hand and leading him to the dance floor.

I was surprised to NOT be embarrassed as I danced, naked, semen leaking down my thighs, with this man SO much younger than me.

In fact, I was proud that he had asked and when his hand roamed down to cup my ass I arched my body to meet him, offering myself. I felt naughty. I felt slutty. I felt more perfectly female and more utterly feminine than I had in years.

When the music ended I took him by the hand and found Arlene.

"Well, Sluterella," she said, grinning and kissing Stan, "how are you liking our little club."

I threw my arms around her and kissed her, pressing myself against her warm, soft body, drawing whistles from the group standing close.

"Thank you," I said, "any more of that wonderful white powder around?"

She laughed and looked around.

"THOMAS!" she called, and one of the more "mature" men in the place came over. He looked to be in his mid-20s.

"Judy'd like a little toot," she said and he grinned and reached into his pocket.

The spoon he brought out was much bigger than the one Roger had, but when he dropped it into the little brown bottle and offered it to me I didn't hesitate.

"Tequila," I said to Nancy who was still working the bar, "a double."

She sat the salt shaker and a slice of lime beside the big double shot glass.

I grinned at Arlene, kissed Stan, did the salt-shot-lime thing, and took a deep breath, snorting the white powder, a very deep breath, feeling the drugs work, listening to the music, Jerry Lee's "Great Balls of Fire" and I just had to dance.

"Come on, baby," I said, grabbing Stan's hand and dragging him to the dance floor.

I am normally pretty reserved but, well, let's face it, this had been a life-changing day.

I danced with abandon and when Jerry Lee finished and Ricky Nelson started whining about being a teenage idol he took me in his arms and it was like I was at the prom again. My arms were around his neck and his were on my ass and we were, basically, making out while moving slowly.

As we danced, I saw that one of the oldest women, my fuzzy mind came up with the name Marie, was up on the stage, on her knees, with a cock in her mouth and another waiting beside her. As I watched, she switched to the other one and I goddam near came just watching.

"Come on," I said, pulling Stan by the hand in search of Thomas. When I found him I asked for another "toot," giggling as I said the word, and Arlene appeared, as if by magic, and said, "put it on the Club tab."

I was a little unsteady on my feet as I made my way back to the bar and Nancy, bless her heart, had another shot ready for me.

After that, I was as drunk as I ever remember being and the high from the white powder was a new and unique experience for me.

"Come on," I said, and pulled Stan toward the stage.

My fingers were trembling as I worked on his belt and when he reached down to help I slapped his hand. "No, baby," I said, "let me do the work, please."

He smiled and kissed me.

I was drunk, no doubt about that. And I was, well, "stoned" is the word I guess. And I just HAD to have him in my mouth, up there, with everyone watching.

I finally got the goddam belt undone and then the fucking steel button on his Levi's almost defeated me. I broke a nail but got it undone. The zipper was easy then and I was on my knees, yanking his pants and boxers down and taking him into my mouth. The drugs and alcohol had me and I was frantic by then. Some part of my brain was telling me I was crossing a LOT of lines here and another part was telling it to get fucked.

I was aware of the applause in a kind of detached way, but my world was pretty much limited by then to his cock and my mouth.

My last clear memory of my first night at the Needy Wives Club was Stan pulling out, cumming on my forehead and in my hair, and a second man, whose name I had never caught, taking his place in my mouth.