Marc 5: Points Club
I join a sex club.
There’s a group of people in town who get together to fulfill their deepest, darkest sexual fantasies, helping each other out by staging and participating is some really exotic, erotic stuff. They exchange points with each other to compensate people for participating.
Now, secrecy, of course, is very important to the group, but when they found out I was a writer of erotic fiction, they agreed that it would be a fun idea if I wrote up some of their adventures as works of fiction. In fact, they’re kind of competing over who can come up with a wild enough fantasy for me to write about. This could prove interesting.
If you’re interested in finding out how I got in, check out That Girl Across the Hall.
Points Club meets nightly at the North Point Supper Club. Things start popping at 6:00 PM. It’s my first night, so I’m not sure what to expect.
On the outside, the place looks shabby, unmaintained. Not the kind of place you’d suggest to your love interest for a night out on the town. But I try not to judge a book by its cover. Still, this cover is pretty ragged.
I step into the North Point Supper Club with trepidation. Dark and under-lit, it takes my eyes a few minutes to adjust. When they finally do, I conclude it doesn’t look much better on the inside than it looks on the outside. The booth cushions and chairs are dingy and worn. The tables are scratched and show signs of their age. While fairly clean, the place really lacks any appeal. This would be a perfect candidate for Restaurant Impossible.
But the people here are beautiful, well dressed, and vibrant. Totally at odds with the place.
Three men are talking about an upcoming football game and which team they thought would win. Two very attractive women sit at one of the tables chatting softly and occasionally casting glances toward the men. The guys would have had to be stupid not to notice the women’s interest. In any other bar those guys would be all over the girls.
Paul Fredericks motions me over to a table. He’s the doctor that got me into the club and made sure I was physically eligible. Points Club members all have to be disease free, mentally healthy, and the women all have to be on some kind of birth control. “Glad you could make it tonight,” he says and begins to introduce me around to the club members.
An attractive waitress takes my order for a drink, and I occupy myself watching her sexy ass swaying all the way back to the bar. The burly bartender takes her order then shoots me a smile and a wave.
The door opens and a large group of people came in boisterously shouting to those already in the place. The bartender finishes up my drink, then gets started mixing beverages for the new folk while exchanging comments with them.
Everyone here, including the bartender and waitresses, are young, fit, and attractive. It’s like something out of a Hollywood movie set. There isn’t even anyone I would call average looking. What were the odds of this being a coincidence?
Then she walks in. In a room of beautiful people, she stands out as gorgeous — stunning. Her legs attract me first. Long, tanned, and toned. My eyes travel up those incredible limbs to the high hem of a little black dress that shows so much more than it conceals. By the time she reaches the bar, the bartender already has her drink ready. My eyes continue up the bare expanse of her back to a silky fall of golden tresses. She grabs the glass from the bartender then turns and looks right at me.
Blonde, petite, and dressed to kill. I can’t tear my eyes off her.
“Candy!” everyone yells, and a sexy smile crosses her lips.
I fall into her eyes. Captured — captivated. I know my mouth must have hung open. She smiles and starts across the room toward me.
“You must be the new guy.” Her voice is soft, sweet, and sexy. She arches an eyebrow as she slips into the booth across from me. “And I have the honor of giving you a test drive tonight.”
That sounds promising.
There’s an unobtrusive door on the back wall, with a sign that reads Employees Only! Beside it is a card reader.
Paul slides a card across the table to me. “All the others have to wait for 6:00 to go back, but now that Candy’s here, you get to go back early so she can give you the grand tour.”
Candy takes my hand and pulls me out of my seat, toward the back doorway. “Slide your virgin card,” she says.
I did. Then she leads me into heaven.
The full encounter is documented in That Girl Across the Hall. Here’s an excerpt:
Black leather clung to her shapely figure like it had been painted on. A shiny bustier, long black gloves, bikini bottoms, and high-heeled boots. She also had a leather collar around her neck and wielded a riding crop.
His cock sprung to attention as she slapped the crop against her thigh. This was one sexy dominatrix.
“Well, aren’t we the little sport,” she said, affecting an accent he couldn’t quite place — part upper-crust British, part cinema villainess.
“My lady,” Marc answered, trying to get into character. “I await your pleasure.”
She brought the riding crop up under the head of his cock, bouncing it gently. “Yes, you do, don’t you?” Taking a dog collar from the display, she buckled it around his neck, then attached a short leash to the ring on the collar. “You’ll make me such a fetching pet. Come, let’s go for a walk.”
Taking the leash, she spun on her heal and took a few steps.
Marc followed, not knowing what to expect next.
She turned her head back to him, wrinkled her brow, and shook her head. “No, boy, not like that. On your hands and knees, of course. You’re a dog!”
The floor looked like hard flagstones, but as he got down on hands and knees, he was surprised to find the surface was padded vinyl flooring made to look like stone. It had been a while since he’d done any crawling, but it wasn’t completely uncomfortable.
She walked him across the floor to a padded bench. She turned and took a seat, reclining back. “Now, take off my panties.”
Marc, on his knees, reached up with his hands, but she slapped them with her riding crop. “What are you doing? You’re a dog. You don’t have hands. Use your mouth.”
There was challenge in her eyes.
He crawled up between her legs, laying his chin in her crotch, as he labored with teeth and tongue to get a hold on the waistband of her panties. The scent of her, a rich musky aroma, was a mixture of some exotic perfume and her own musky aroma. A damp spot seeped into the fabric at the apex of her thighs as he tugged on the garment, working it down.
She raised herself off the seat an inch to assist, and through sheer determination and quite a lot of intimate touching, he managed to pull the briefs off her hips and down her long, shapely legs.
She laid her hand on his head and stroke his head like one would a dog. “Such a good boy. Now, let’s use that tongue of yours again, please.”
She pulled on the leash, drawing him back between her legs to the opening of her sex.
He began to feast on her and she squirmed in satisfaction.
Briefly he wondered if he should use his fingers to help, but then remembered, he was a dog. He redoubled his efforts with his tongue.
She groaned. “Oh, Marc, you are really good at that.” This in her own voice as she slipped out of character.
I must be doing something right.
Intrigued? Check out That Girl Across the Hall here: https://books2read.com/u/bpaZLz
(Free to read on Kindle Unlimited.)
And for what happens next on my erotic journey, check out:
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Intimately yours,
Marc Stevens
Welcome to my world. There’s much more to come here on medium. If you liked this, you might like some of my other writing. You’ll find my stories buried deep in the erotica dungeon on Amazon at: https://www.amazon.com/Marc-Stevens/e/B00MC4YGKW
All titles are free to read on Kindle Unlimited.