Message-ID: <25366asstr$964001402@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: pami1968@aol.com (Pami1968)
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Subject: {ASSM} NEW "The Club" Pt. 1 by Pami (M/F)
Date: Wed, 19 Jul 2000 06:10:02 -0400
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This story contains sexual words, themes, and actions. If you are under 21, go
away. If you don't like this sort of thing, or think its too bizarre, go away.
If, on the other hand, you are legal, and you kinda, sorta dig this type of
story... Read on! :)
This is the first new story I have written in a while. Real life has sucked
beyond belief for the past eight months or so, but I have moved again, and I am
feeling happy and those creative juices are flowing again. Hopefully, I will
have more time to write from now on. :)
For those of you who have never read a Pami story, lemme tell ya... I try to
write some really hot sex! <wink> This particular story is written strictly
from a male perspective, and being a woman... that is a challenge. SO.... if I
hit it on the head, write me. If you think I am way off base, write me. In
fact, what the hell... JUST WRITE ME! :) Oh... and check out my website,
courtesy of Rui Jorge, at ASSTR. http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Pami/www There's lots of
stories there. :)
Done rambling... on with the show!
The Club by Pami (M/F, rom?) Part 1
She pulled over and parked the car in a spot
conveniently located just a couple of doors down from
"The Club". He looked over at her and smiled. "I
guess this is the place, eh?" she asked him as they
got out of the car.
He was in town on business, and had taken a chance
that she might be able to meet him for a quick drink
and maybe a snack sometime after she finished work.
He had read a personal ad online that she had placed,
and looked at her posted picture, and he was, quite
frankly, intrigued. The ad text had posed a challenge
of being able to keep up with her in bed. Her former
lovers were "dried out husks of men" by the time she
finished with them, she had written. She was looking
for open-minded, virile men, who would enjoy being
with an imaginative, uninhibited woman. NOT a one
night stand, though. Oh, and she wrote, she was
voluptuously curvy, and wanted EVERY inch of her taken
care of. When he had read the ad, he found himself
smiling as he imagined the smirk on the author's face.
He clicked on the photo icon, and was stunned at her
innocent loveliness. Undeniably round cheeks, with a
delicate flush on the fair skin, long curling brown
hair, a pouty lower lip curved in a smile, and the
eyes that hinted of mischief. A VERY attractive
woman. She was NOT what he had envisioned from the ad
at all! He sent her an email on a whim, knowing that
she might not answer at all. It seemed that every
female online was just looking to play around, and not
actually meet anyone. He typed a brief note,
indicating his interest, his vitals, and that he might
be doing business in her city for the next few months.
He extended an invite for a no pressure drink, just to
see what her reaction would be.
He was pleased to see an answer in his email box the
following day. He opened her response and was
intrigued. She was intelligent. Her spelling was
good. Nice sentence structure. A sense of humor
wafted through the screen at him, punctuated by
frequent emoticons of smileys and winks. He dashed
off an answer, indicating that he was willing to meet
at her convenience, and telling her more about him.
A few more email exchanges, and the meeting was set.
It wasn't until 10:30 pm, because she worked until
late. She had sent him a borderline hostile email
when he had told her he didn't have a picture of
himself, and he thought she was going to cancel. But
he heard nothing back.
He took a taxi to the restaurant they set to meet at,
and waited. At about 10:25, he saw her burst through
the doors. It wasn't a busy night, and he would have
recognized that hair and those eyes anyway. He
smiled. She was wearing a long floral dress that
skimmed all of her curves, and she definitely had
them. The scoop neckline exposed at least half of the
upper curves of her ample breasts, and then the fabric
molded down her waist and flared out again over her
hips. She was indeed voluptuous, and his mouth
watered at the thought of licking every inch of her.
Still, he wanted to see how their conversation would
go.
She sat down next to him, apparently unaware that it
was him. She smiled generically at him, and ordered a
wine cooler from the bartender, who asked her for I.D.
She chuckled and made a flippant remark about how the
bartender was her favorite person in the whole wide
world, but pulled out her wallet and showed it to him.
The man glanced at the birth date, blinked a few times
in disbelief, and got her the drink. After thanking
him, she took a long sip, settled back into her seat,
and looked at the television above the bar.
"They lost AGAIN, didn't they?" she asked in a
disgusted tone of voice.
He glanced up at the screen and saw the highlights of
the local hockey team being shown. He wasn't a hockey
fan, and since he wasn't from this city, he really
couldn't have cared less. Nonetheless, he figured
that was as good a way as any to start conversation.
So he smiled at her, and said something about he
thought they had lost in overtime.
She laughed lightly. "I'm not really a HUGE fan, but
you can't live in this town and not follow hockey.
Especially with the playoffs around the corner."
He smiled at her and introduced himself.
She looked taken aback, but recovered quickly and said
the usual "nice to meet you" comments that are spoken
thousands of times a day. He sighed, thinking that
this might turn out to be a dead end. Meeting people
off the Internet was NOT a good idea, he reminded
himself. It seemed to be common that the people who
sounded most intriguing through a computer screen were
dead bores when you talked to them "live".
He asked how her day at work had been, and she sighed
and launched into a description of minutiae that
probably should have bored him, but the animation in
her voice and on her face kept him listening. He even
found himself chuckling at some small anecdotes that
she told. Her brown eyes sparkled as she described
poking fun at a couple of employees and their
responses back to her. He made some suggestive remark
about how it must be great to work under her, and he
was delighted to note that she picked up on the
subtext and giggled. Not an annoyed giggle, like
teenaged girls have, but a throaty giggle, the type
which made the listener smile along with her. And, he
confessed to himself, wonder if he could make her
laugh again.
He bought himself another beer, and offered her
another wine cooler. She smiled and he could have
sworn she winked at him as she answered. "Not
tonight, thanks. I'd like to keep all of my senses
fully aware."
There was a long pause, and she asked him, "You know,
you look awfully young, how old are you, REALLY?"
He smiled at her, confident in his appearance. He was
a good-looking man, and he knew it. The only thing
that was a drawback was that he also knew he looked
about 22. "30. For real. Here, let me show you,"
and he pulled out his small wire-rimmed glasses and
perched them on his nose. "I don't need glasses, but
I wear these so my clients take me seriously."
She squinted a little bit at him, with a very serious
look on her face. "Oh my yes, with those on, you look
at least 25!" she commented and burst into that
infectious laugh again.
He laughed a little bit with her, and then added his
own statement of fact. "Well, you certainly don't
look 35."
"Face lift. Works every time," she deadpanned with a
sparkle of humor in her eyes.
He smiled and made a suggestive remark about how he
would love to find out if her skin was really tight
all over. He almost dropped his beer when she shot
back her response.
"So what are we waiting for? Your place, or mine?"
They both looked at each other for a minute, and he
knew he had a dumbstruck look on his face. Not that
he didn't want to take her up on her challenge, but he
wasn't used to a woman being the first to suggest it.
She smiled a small smile and opened her mouth to add,
"I know I said that I am not really into one-nighters.
And I'm not. But let me be honest here," and she
leaned close to him to whisper into his ear. "I have
spent the last ten minutes wondering what it will feel
like to have you up behind me, fucking me until I
scream. Or what it will be like to be on my knees
before you, licking your cock like an ice cream cone."
He wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His
cock was semi-hard already, just from hearing her
words. In the past half-hour, she had established
herself as one of the most fascinating women he had
ever met, and he couldn't wait to see if she was as
insatiable as she had said in her ad.
"My place. The company has me staying in the
Edgeworth Club downtown. Ever been there?" he asked.
"Nope. I don't even know where it is. You'll have to
give me directions," she said as they got up off their
bar stools and he left a tip for the bartender.
They walked over to her small, sporty car. It looked
like a car she would drive, he thought. Sleek lines,
a sunroof, a flirty teal color. They climbed in, and
away they went.
Conversation was at a minimum. He wasn't sure what to
say anymore. He wanted her badly, and he knew that
she wanted him, but he didn't want to blow it by
saying anything she might think was stupid or too
forward. Although how he could say anything too
forward after what she had said to him at the bar, he
didn't really know. Still, he confined himself to
giving directions, and running his eyes over every
inch of her face and body.
The Edgeworth Club was a members' only mostly-
gentleman's club in the posh business section of the
city. The marble stairs rose to an unassuming cherry-
wood door with only a gold plaque next to it, embedded
in the wall, proclaiming this to be the entrance to
its hallowed halls.
He knocked. Since it was past midnight, the door was
locked, and a doorman was required to admit guests.
He gave a brief introduction of her to the doorman as
his girlfriend and they walked down the hall.
She looked around, wide-eyed. "It looks like the club
in 'Trading Places'. You know, the one that Dan
Ackroyd belongs to before he gets booted onto the
streets," she whispered as she peered into the
darkness of one of the side rooms.
He smiled, holding her hand, as he pulled her into one
of the libraries. The entire main floor was deserted,
it seemed, and he wanted to impress her. The small
walnut of the built-in bookshelves gleamed in the
light of a single lamp, and the furniture was limited
to a few round marble tables and some inviting high-
backed leather guest chairs. Landscapes and portraits
decorated the walls, and he wondered if there was a
security camera system. Then he just decided he
didn't care.
"I can't wait anymore," he said to her as he pushed
her up against one of the walls and bent his head to
kiss her roughly.
She tasted vaguely of the drink she had at the bar,
and the underlying scent of vanilla wafted into his
nostrils. He pressed his entire body against hers,
feeling her breasts push against his chest. His hands
wrapped themselves through her long hair and he pulled
on it. He licked and nibbled and bit and sucked and
kissed and did it over and over to every inch of her
neck as she moaned and squirmed and told him how good
it felt.
When he felt her hand slide down the front of his body
and press against his confined cock, he pulled away.
They were both panting and breathing heavily, and he
suggested that they take it upstairs to his room,
before he got thrown out of the club.
She acquiesced, and as he took her by the hand, she
stopped suddenly and stood on tiptoe. "Think you can
keep up with me, big boy?" she huskily whispered as
she flicked her tongue lightly around his ear.
He moaned at the sensation. Or her words. Or both.
It didn't matter. "I am going to make you beg me to
stop, sweetness," he told her, as he leaned down for
another kiss.
They made it to the elevator, and she squealed as she
pointed at the large marble ashtray between the two
elevator doors. "Look, they even imprint their seal
in the sand in the ashtray. Can you imagine having
that job?"
He was amazed. All he could do was think about
getting naked and fucking until they were both
screaming, and here she was, commenting on ashtrays.
It was a humbling thought.
(Continued in part 2. Yep.. that's where the hot sex is. but you'll
appreciate it more now!)
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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