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From: "Not Me" <sansidee@hotmail.com>
Subject: Kyle's Continuing Sexual Adventures - Club-F, Chapter One (1/7)
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Kyle's Continuing Sexual Adventures - Club-F, Chapter One (1/7)
This story is about sex and sexual events that underage readers, or
those offended by stories of this nature had best avoid. Reading beyond
this warning means you have accepted full responsibility for what you
read. The author is therefore not responsible.
This story is fiction. If it happens to imitate life (is anyone really
this lucky?) then it does so purely by coinsidence.
Feedback, comments, etc. is invited at sansidee@hotmail.com
For copies of other stories please look at the ASSM archives, at
<http://www.qz.to/erotica/assm/>
* * *
When I first thought about joining Club-F, ostensibly a fitness club,
hence the F, I heard rumours that strange things went on inside, strange
sexual things. I found out, of course, that nothing was strange, except
the F also meant fucking.
On the day I joined the club, I was met by membership representative
Jody Lawson. Jody was about 28 years old, with wavy shoulder lenght
brown hair, C-cup breasts, a stunning ass, and a body whose fitness
reflected that she did not just work for the gym, she worked out at the
gym. She was seemed very sweet, and the longer I spent in her office the
more I found myself wanting to fuck her.
"Well Kyle," she said after all the forms were filled out, and my
membership card was ready, "do you have any questions, and would you
like a tour?"
"Well, I have heard some rumours about this place only letting in
people in a certain age group."
"That is true," she said, "we cater to the 25 to 45 age group, and have
not made any exceptions. If you join at 44 you know you have limited
time until you are out."
"What about the rumours of sexual things going on here?"
"They are not rumours, they are true. Sure this place is called Club-F,
and advertised as the F meaning fitness, but it also means fucking. We
discovered when we opened the place that there was something unique
about the air in here, and we analyzed it. When we realized that
something had caused the air to take on an aphrodesiac quality, we
reproduced it, and added some memory altering effects. Most people walk
out of here and by the time they get fifty feet from the special air,
have no recollection of what they did... so we encourage them to record
their workout logs before they leave. Most of our members have sex here
about five times a week. We encourage all kinds of sex, supply condoms,
lubricant, toys, and anything else that might help. Sex is not allowed
in the weight rooms, the pool, the courts, the gyms, etc. But there is a
place for it. I'll show you on the tour."
"What about employees?"
"We take an antedote so we don't suffer the memory loss. The air in our
offices can be filtered if we like, because we still are affected by the
horniness, but I like mine unfiltered..."
"Really," I asked, now feeling perhaps bold enough to proposition her,
"so you fuck clients?"
"Rarely, I just like to feel horny. Why, you want to fuck?"
"Well... yes."
"Well Kyle, today is your day, I was hoping since the moment you walked
into my office you would want to fuck me. We will not only tour the
spaces reserved for fucking, we'll use them."
The fitness equipment was state-of-the-art; all of the latest equipment
from Stairmaster and Nautilus, and at least two of everything. I saw two
of my favorite gym machines there, and realized that even for the
workout, I would like coming, er, cuming here.
"You will also notice, Kyle, that for those who dislike the treadmills,
or like some variation, there is a banked oval track around the
gymnasium; it is 200 meters around. But be careful, to run on the banks
you have to make six-minute mile pace. There are two 'flat lanes,'
though, so slower people can use it."
"That's great, I like to run tracks. What about the, um... the... ah,"
I stammered looking for the works...
"The fuck-rooms?" she asked, "they are the next stop on our tour, right
through that door over there."
"It looks like a squash court door."
"Right. Just in case any outsides look in and are not affected. Some
people, and they are rare these people, are not."
Through the door we went down a staircase and entered a hallway that
looked like a hotel corridor, or an apartment building.
"Some of these rooms are quite large, and regularly host orgies--we
encourage that around here--and others are small, barely enough room for
the action. In all there is room for 80 people to be in on the action at
once. We have never quite operated at full capacity, but we have achived
about eighty percent."
"How do the orgies start?"
"Usually a couple, say like us, takes a vacant orgy room and leaves a
red tag on the door. That tag invites others to join, unconditionally.
Sometimes people come down on their own and join them. Single people
even take the orgy rooms and masturbate until partners arrive."
"Every room," she continued, "has a fully equiped bathroom, so post
coitus clean-up is easy."
"Sounds like somebody thought of everything."
"Certainly. Here is a vacant room, shall we pop in?"
"Oh yes," I replied, my cock had been dying to pump that sweet ass
since I first set sight on it."
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