The Club - Sex Stories

The Club

... throat and realized that I was trembling again. I wondered if she noticed.

“Parker.” A slight pause. “Katherine Parker.”

There. That was it. This establishment was discreet and anonymous in all things but this. Everything had been done with the utmost care. I knew that I would need to be verified of course, and my thorough research provided reasonable assurance that my information would be safeguarded. After all, no illegal acts were to take place. Immoral acts were another thing. And so, it didn’t come out easily.

The young woman typed my name into her computer and then looked directly at me, her smile radiating warmth and welcome. “This is your first visit with us, I see.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Did you have any difficulty finding us,” she inquired.

“No, none whatsoever. Everything was easy.”

“That’s good to hear,” she responded. “We’re glad you’re here. Let’s get the formalities out of the way, shall we? May I see some identification?”

I reached into my clutch and handed her my driver’s license. While she was processing it, I checked my phone to make sure that my location services were turned off and that the phone’s do not disturb setting was active. I had already checked in with home before setting out. One advantage of being on the West Coast – he was no doubt fast asleep at this point. But one cannot be too careful.

“Thank you,” she handed the license back to me. “And may I see your test results please?”

I pulled them up on my phone and handed it ...

... to her. Some more keystrokes and she returned it to me.

“Everything is in order. Willow here will escort you into the club. Have fun!”

Out of nowhere, another young woman had appeared. This one had a bit of a Suicide-Girl look – slender, pale, visible body art, pierced nose. She, too, wore the same warm smile.

“Hi, I’m Willow. May I call you Katherine, or would you prefer a different name?”

“No, Katherine’s fine,” I replied. I was comfortable using my real first name beyond check-in. In fact, I wanted to use it. I needed to own this evening completely.

So much effort had led to this moment. The exhaustive research, the application, and interview process. Finding a discreet opportunity to sneak off and procure my STD test from a particular lab no more than two weeks prior to this evening. The process was nerve-wracking and incredibly exciting. I’d lost count of the number of orgasms I’d experienced imagining what tonight would be like.

And now I was here, being led into a beautifully appointed, dimly lit lounge. At the far end was a dark mahogany bar. The crowd was quite attractive, the dress tasteful with a hint of provocation. I glanced at myself in one of the many mirrors. My red dress hugged my slender figure, highlighting my gentle curves. The neckline plunged to reveal a hint of cleavage from my modest natural breasts, and the above-the-knee hem showed off my toned legs. My nipples, hardened by my excitement, poked visibly against the fabric of my sheer ...