I'm Helen, and I'm forty two years old. That's old enough to know about human nature. We all have desires, needs that we must fulfil. Most are harmless, or are kept under control, but sometimes they become an obsession. My Uncle is a good example of taking something to its absolute limit. He's a nice guy, but he's also a nerd. He's obsessed with computers. You have one, perhaps even two, but he has a garage full of them. Anything new and he has to buy it. He openly admits that it's out of control, but he doesn't want to stop doing it. It's his hobby, his passion, and it gives him a lot of pleasure.
I'm like him, not in looks, but personality. I don't just dabble, I do things to extremes. In my early teens it was stamp collecting. Within a year of starting, what I didn't know about philately wasn't worth knowing. But then I moved on to something else. And that was the pattern until I was eighteen. That's when I met Jeff, my future Husband, and he initiated me into sex. And since then, it has been my one and only obsession.
I met him at a party, and I was instantly attracted to him, even though he was a lot older than me. He was handsome and charming, and it didn't take him long to get me, the shy young virgin, into bed. He was a skilled lover, and when he'd finished with me, I knew what it was that I wanted out of life. It was to be fucked as often as possible!
You now know something about my personality, and what makes me tick, but what about my appearance? Petite is a good way to describe me. However, even though I'm not very tall, I'm still curvy, with breasts that men, even now, always take a second look at. You wouldn't describe them as large, but they are of a sufficient size so that they look impressive on my small frame. I'm proud of them, but in my opinion, they aren't my best feature. That has to be my face. It's angelic. Jeff always says that it's what got his attention when he first saw me. That might be true, but now that I know more about men, it's more likely that it was my tits.
But how have I aged? Very well. That might sound like boasting, but it's not. It's just a simple statement of fact. However, it hasn't been by good luck, it's been by hard work. All those hours in the gym, together with my sensible diet, have enabled me to keep my figure.
When we married, all of my friends were happy for me, but I knew what they were thinking. It's not going to last. They could see that we were in love, but they thought that the age difference was too big. But twenty four years later, we are still married, and I still love him dearly. However, Jeff being almost seventy is a problem. Age has caught up with him. Once a week, might be more than enough for him, but it isn't for me. I know what you're thinking. He can pop some blue pills, and we can then fuck more often. But the problem isn't that he can't get it up, it's that he doesn't want to.
When we married, the age difference wasn't an issue. And for a long time after, our sex life was very good. But I'm not stupid, so I knew that eventually his libido would decline. Over the years it did, while mine still remained high. Then, about five years ago, it became a problem, when I started to become frustrated. The sex was still good, but it wasn't often enough to keep me satisfied. I even spoke to him about it.
"Sorry Helen, but I'm not the young stud that I once was. There was a time when I'd walk over hot coals for sex. Now, most of the time, I'd rather sit on the sofa having a beer while watching a movie. But I'll try and up my game."
And for a while he did. However, we were soon back to once a week at the most, and I was frustrated again.
Six months later I had an affair. It wasn't planned, but it was something waiting to happen. It was with a younger man that I met in a bar while I was out with friends. We flirted, and as we were leaving he handed me a note. On it was his phone number. Three days later I called him.
The sex was wonderful, and I felt fulfilled. I thought I'd found the perfect solution to my problem. I was discreet about it, being careful so that Jeff wasn't suspicious. But unfortunately it didn't last. I only wanted sex, but he wanted a relationship, and he even wanted me to leave my Husband for him. That's when it got messy. So, after only a few weeks, I ended it.
Since then, I'd had other opportunities to cheat on Jeff, but I'd always resisted. I'd even managed, to some extent, to control my frustration, by the skilful use of my fingers and my trusty pocket vibrator. But it was costing me a fortune on batteries!
And, until just over six weeks ago, that's how things were. Then something happened that changed my life.
It was a Wednesday, and it was Jasmin's twenty fifth birthday. She was a colleague from work. I didn't know her that well, but on impulse, when she asked me to come to her party, I said yes. And I was glad that I had. It was at a local bar, and most of those that had been invited were close to her age, so it was lively.
At eleven, I called it a day. Then, instead of hailing a taxi, I decided to go for a walk. I'd drunk too much, so some fresh air might help me sober up. Half an hour later I was ready to go home. But then I saw it, a neon sign flickering in a dark alley, I just had to go and see what it was. If I'd been sober, I would never have done that. But I was curious, and the drink had made me reckless, so, without hesitating, I walked towards the light.
When I got to it, I was disappointed. It wasn't anything exciting. The sign was just the door number, 69. The owner must have thought that because they had such a suggestive number, it would be a good idea to show it off with a red neon sign. But it wasn't. Rather than being impressive, it was just sleazy.
Then the door opened, and in front of me now, was a man mountain. He looked mean. Like Mike Tyson, but even scarier.
In a menacing voice, he said, "Don't just stand there looking at the sign, come in," and then, after scowling at me, he added, "And hurry up."
His aggression should have frightened me, but it didn't. In fact, for some reason that I couldn't explain, I laughed, and that bemused him. This time when he spoke, he was a lot friendlier.
"You must be new. Who sent you?"
I didn't answer him, because I had no idea why he was asking me that. Instead, I just gave him my best smile.
After shaking his head, and then muttering something under his breath, he said, "I guess it doesn't matter who sent you. Now I'm going to tell you about the club. And you need to listen carefully because I'm not going to repeat myself."
He then did, and when he'd finished, I was shocked. When he moved aside, so that I could enter, I should have quickly walked away, without giving him a backward glance. But I didn't, because I knew that if I did, it would just be delaying the inevitable. It might not be tomorrow, or next week, but sometime soon, I would be back. So I might as well do it tonight and get it over with.
The room was brightly lit, but it would have been better if it wasn't. The paint on the walls was peeling, and there were cobwebs on the ceiling. There was quite a strong smell of disinfectant. I didn't dare speculate on why it was being used.
While I waited, I thought about what I had been told about the club.
"You don't get to pick, you get whoever is next on the rota. It's a fixed fee for each half hour. If you go over, even by a second, we charge for the full thirty minutes. And we never give a refund. If you have any complaints, we don't want to hear them. If you don't like the rules, then you can fuck off."
His first words hadn't sold it to me, but what he'd said next, had.
"All our studs are under thirty, and they must have at least a seven inch cock. We don't pay them much, because we don't have to. They don't work here for the money, they work here for the pussy. So you will find that they are very enthusiastic."
And that's why I was here, in a place that could only be described as a 'shit hole'. Very soon, a young man was going to enter the room that was on the other side of the wall. He was then going to stick his big cock through a hole, so that he could fuck my willing pussy.
When I heard him moving about, my heart started to beat faster.
"I'm Rocky, who are you?"
That had to be an alias, and I should have used one as well. But that was hindsight, because without thinking, I gave him my real name.
"Hi, I'm Helen."
"That's a nice name."
I might be drunk, but I wasn't naive. He probably said that to all the women, but hearing him say it, had still pleased me.
"Is half an hour enough for you?"
"Yes."
This morning, I'd fingered myself to quite a nice climax, but it had been more than a week since I'd had cock, so thirty minutes was plenty of time. Just thinking about what he was going to do to me was making me wet. If he was any good, then I wasn't going to last long.
"After you've paid me we can start."
What I had to pay wasn't that much. I'd spent more than that this evening on drinks. But I'd charged them to my card. With horror, I realized that I might not have enough cash. If I didn't, then it would be very embarrassing.
As I frantically searched through my handbag, I said, out of desperation, "Do you take American Express?"
