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Subject: {ASSM} At The Club Chapter 1: Act 1
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Date: Sat, 29 Oct 2016 03:10:02 -0400
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I hadn't closed the curtains and I hadn't turned on the light. The 
living room got gradually darker as I sat in the armchair waiting for 
Marilyn to come home. Anger alternated with pain and grief as my 
stomach turned again and again. How would I start the conversation? How 
would I broach the fact that she had been lying to me? Several times 
over the last six months my wife of eight years had said that she had 
spent the evening with her friend Kelly who had been going through some 
very hard times. By sheerest chance I met Kelly in Waterstone's on 
Oxford Street on one of my few trips into the capital and had offered 
my thoughts and prayers for her. She looked at me like I was an idiot. 
"What are you talking about?" she asked.

As it happened Marilyn knew there was something wrong when she came 
into the room. A question. Maybe two. Then I asked her straight out 
whether she'd been unfaithful and whether she had a lover. I'll try to 
get her words exactly, but I wasn't really in a frame of mind to 
memorise them.

"A lover? No. Darling I've never loved other than you since I met you. 
You are genuinely the most adorable person in the world to me. I don't 
want to be with any other man more than I want to be with you. It's 
just. Well. Well, it's sex." I don't know what my face betrayed at that 
point but she felt the need to clarify. "Don't get me wrong! Please! In 
all sorts of ways you're a wonderful lover. When you make love to me it 
feels fantastic. I feel like I'm being treated like the beautiful wife 
of a beautiful man and I love every moment of it. It's just.... It's 
just that I have other needs and maybe I should have talked to you 
about them."

Marilyn turned away from me, her gorgeously curved ass clothed in a 
figure-hugging dress. "Before we met I was a bit wild", she said. "I 
was, shall we say, promiscuous. Maybe it's that I'm getting older. 
Maybe it's that sex with you is great but a bit, well, "vanilla". 
Maybe...maybe I don't really know. About six months ago I got to crave 
for those times when I was younger - for those wild times. I found out 
about this club in the city. Going there takes me back to those times. 
Can you understand that?"

I nodded and said that I did. "Are you going again?" I asked. "If 
that's all right with you." she replied. And there our conversation 
ended.

About three weeks later she said she was going out to her club. I told 
her to have a good time and waited for a minute or so after she left. 
Then I slipped out of our front door and followed her. She walked down 
the road toward the tube station. I followed about twenty yards behind, 
my heart pounding in my chest all the way. The rest of the story of our 
journey should be obvious. A sequence of trains. A station where she 
got off and made her way up the escalators to the street. A walk and 
then an alley. A door. She went in and I followed her a few minutes 
later.

There was a bald potato-headed man just inside the door standing behind 
a small counter in a small foyer decorated in tasteful crimson. He did, 
however, have a body that no sane person would argue with. "Are you new 
here, sir?" he said. I nodded and he passed me a form. It asked me to 
assert that I did not, to the best of my knowledge suffer from any 
sexually transmitted disease and that I would accept legal liability if 
I passed on any such disease within the premises. Confident that I was 
clean I signed. The man asked for proof of identity and I handed over 
my driver's licence. "One more thing, sir. This club is by 
recommendation only. Who recommended it to you?" I paused for a moment, 
my heart pounding and my mind racing. He held my driver's licence so I 
said, "Marilyn Sheppard".

He stood impassive for a moment and reached for the computer that stood 
on the counter. "Wait a minute" he said. "Do you mean Marnie?" I 
nodded. Marnie was a name Marilyn had used before we had met. "You're 
in luck" he said. "She's in tonight". He looked again at the details I 
had filled in on the form and at my driver's licence. He shrugged and 
asked me for fifty pounds, which I handed over. "Have a good night sir. 
Here's your mask. It should be worn at all times". He handed me a black 
eye-mask that reminded me of the Lone Ranger and I  put it on. Then he 
handed me a small handset with four buttons and the number 17 painted 
on it and he gestured toward a pair of swing doors.

I walked into a room about the size of a small church hall. It was 
gaudily lit in pinks and reds. About twenty chairs surrounded an 
octagonal dais that was clearly padded and covered in a pink plastic 
fabric. Beyond it and above it was a platform about eight feet wide 
with three steps down to the dais. I sat in one of the last available 
chairs. Within a few minutes all the seats were filled and it was clear 
that proceedings were about to begin.

A voice came over a tannoy. "Good evening gentlemen. We hope you have a 
good evening tonight. Please remember that the ladies who step onto our 
stage want a good evening too. They are not paid and don't need to be 
treated as whores. Please treat them as ladies who want to get laid. 
First tonight is "Suck And Fuck" and first up tonight is an old 
favourite of ours. Please welcome Marnie. And no, she isn't that old. 
Marnie - for anyone new here tonight, please introduce yourself." My 
heart suddenly began to beat in my head - it was as if I could hear 
every pulse. 'Marnie'. Would this be my wife?

It was. She appeared on the platform and she was naked. I just gazed at 
her. I'm not sure I have ever seen her unclothed in this way. When 
she'd been naked with me we were usually up close so I didn't see her 
whole body. Or we were engaged in everyday tasks like getting dressed. 
It had been a long time since I had really appreciated how gorgeous she 
was. She is tall and elegant. She has long light brown hair and blue 
eyes that seem always to hint at naughtiness. She has a wonderful 
figure with wonderfully rounded D-cup breasts and hips that any man 
would die for. "Hi", she said. "I'm Marnie. I'm married and I'm here to 
fuck".

My stomach churned and I barely heard the voice across the tannoy. 
"Well, there you have it gentlemen. If you want to be the man to give 
Marnie what she wants then press button one in the ten seconds after I 
say 'Go'. The lucky man will be the one who recorded his interest most 
closely to the randomly generated time after that. Are you ready? 
Three... two... one... and Go!" I almost pressed the button. I almost 
paid fifty pounds to have sex with my own wife. The sense of excitement 
and expectation that pulsed through the atmosphere in that room was 
something I had never before experienced. Before I knew it ten seconds 
had passed and the tannoy spoke again. "Number eight. You were closest. 
Come and claim your prize."

Across the room from me a man got up from his seat. I guessed he'd be 
about forty - though I was surprised how much difference the mask made 
in estimating that. He was wearing a grey t-shirt which he was pulling 
off as he rose from his chair. He was fairly well-built and had 
obviously spent some time in the gym. Then I realised that I was 
thinking these things so objectively about a man who was, it seemed, 
about to screw my wife. As he approached the dais Marilyn walked down 
the steps from the platform and came to sit on the edge of the dais 
with her feet on the floor. The man came and stood in front of her, 
unfastened his belt and unbuttoned his trousers, then pushed them off 
taking his underpants with them. Then he, too, was naked. Clearly the 
atmosphere of excitement in the room had affected him too as his penis 
was at half-mast. It was a little longer than mine but perhaps not 
quite as thick.

Looking up at him Marilyn wrapped her long delicate fingers around his 
swelling member. Leaning forward she rolled her tongue over its head. 
I'm sure I heard the guy gasp. Within a few moments he was hard and 
erect. Marilyn opened her mouth and took his glans in. She paused for a 
moment. I know that pause. It's that pause that says 'I want you 
excited but I don't want you to cum'. Then she started to suck his 
cock. Slowly at first, but deep. She is very good at that. I could see 
her partner trembling as her warm soft mouth worked his manhood. 
Whenever he got close she would ease off. She wanted him hard. Her 
right hand was cupping his balls but her left was between her thighs. 
When the time came she would be ready.

And then the time came. Marilyn lay back on the padded surface of the 
dais. She opened her legs wide. Number eight positioned himself between 
them. She looked into his eyes and, audibly for the whole room, just 
said "Fuck me". I saw him guiding the head of his to the entrance of 
her pussy and then, with one smooth movement, he drove it deep into my 
wife. There was nothing I could do but watch the muscles of his arse 
hollowing as he drove again and again into her. I'm not sure if that's 
the moment - or when I noticed her wedding ring on her finger as she 
gripped his upper arm and panted convulsively. Maybe it was when her 
thighs rose up either side of his torso to let him get as deep inside 
her as possible. Maybe it was when I noticed her gasps and whimpers as 
he fucked her harder and faster. At some moment I realised that my own 
cock was getting hard.

I lost track of time completely. I lost track of the fact that eighteen 
other men were watching my wife being fucked by another man. I just 
listened to those familiar cries of passion and pleasure. I knew where 
they were going. I knew that she was close to coming to orgasm on this 
anonymous stranger's shaft. And then it happened. She shrieked and 
wailed as her body convulsed and Number Eight's cock drove her on into 
ecstasy. Those cries were enough, usually, to take me over the edge and 
I would cum inside her at pretty much the same time. Number Eight, 
though, did not respond the same way. As Marilyn came down from her 
orgasmic high he withdrew from her. He took hold of her hips and urged 
her to turn onto all fours. Then he placed his hand on the back of her 
head and pushed down. Then, her ass raised high and her legs apart, he 
presented the tip of his long cock to her entrance once more.

Then he was fucking my wife again. Now, though, she seemed to be in a 
state of constant pleasure. Her fingers flexed and clenched 
convulsively as this stranger ploughed into her again and again and 
again. Squeals, groans and guttural noises flowed from her mouth 
interspersed with animalistic cries of "Fuck Me! GOD YES!! FUCK ME!!" 
It was as if she were cumming over and over again. Sweat gave a sheen 
to her skin that made it shine in the lights that illuminated her 
stage. I could not see Number Eight's face, but I knew from the pace of 
his thrusts that he was close to his own orgasm. Then it happened. A 
sequence of short, fast thrusts. Then long and deep. I fancied I could 
almost see his balls rising and falling as he sprayed his seed deep 
inside my wife's quivering pussy. A trickle of applause began in the 
room and I found myself joining in as Marilyn and Number Eight lay 
shuddering and conjoined on the dais. At last they got up and 
acknowledged the applause. Then the man got dressed and my wife stepped 
back up to the platform and disappeared, a trickle of liquid running 
down my wife's inner thigh.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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