WARNING, SEXUALLY EXPLICIT MATERIAL! ADULTS ONLY!

FOR CHARITY (or how a group of suburban ladies discovered the best possible
way to attract the charitable dollars and maintain their funds
in the black)

*
DEIRDRE

"Well ladies, it's back to the drawing board on raising really meaningful
dollars for our charities," Julia Draper told us at the quarterly meeting
after the ball. "The profits we made on the lamington drive and the fun-run
were completely eroded by the losses on the ball. And we're still at least
fifteen hundred in the red!"

"The whole concept of charitable work is to benefit the less fortunate by
making an effort yourself," Holly Yates said quietly. "We kid ourselves by
reselling someone else's cakes, hire a guy to plan and conduct the run and
hire caterers, a danceband and a big name celebrity to em-cee the ball. We
did absolutely nothing ourselves."

"So what are you suggesting? Should we recruit our members to play at the
ball, ladies bring a plate and one of us get up and make fools of ourselves
in awarding the prizes and suchlike?"

"Well, sort of. We could cater it ourselves, try to recruit a band or at
least find a DJ among our blokes and I'm sure we'd find an aspiring standup
comedian too. A lot of local guys have done Toastmasters these days," Holly
explained. "And how hard is it to put a running course together? We could
make it more fun by organizing a 'hounds-and-hares' run with an admission
fee and no prize for the winner; an entirely amateur effort."

"She's right," agreed Justine Cullen. "I always thought that charity work
was that you performed yourself, either in direct assistance or by raising
money for the cause. Paying somebody else to make the effort on your behalf
seems to be self-defeating if the cost of hiring is higher than the actual
takings."

"I once read a story," offered Katryn Stone, not normally regarded as the
brightest globe in the chandelier, "where some ladies like us made heaps of
cash by running slave auctions where husbands bought the services of other
ladies for twenty-four hours."

"Yeah," snorted Trisha Payne, "and the whole point of that story was that
they all finished up prostituting themselves to their neighbours in a round
robin of sex. I read it too Kate."

"Nobody did anything they didnt want to," mumbled the aggrieved Katy.

"It's just an erotic, fantasy story Kate," Trisha told her patiently. "Do
you really think that anybody would actually go out and be gang-banged at a
poker party to raise money for charity?"

"Speak for yourself Trisha," somebody giggled and Katy grinned at somehow
believing her suggestion being vindicated. "If the reward was thought to be
sufficient you may be surprised at what a girl might consider to be a valid
charitable activity."

"And how much would you need to be paid to play the tart?" Trish demanded
of Monica Clarke who'd made the statement.

"All right now ladies!" cried Julia with a thump of her gavel. "Let's not
get personal about these things. I don't think we should discuss the matter
any further as it's not something we'd ever undertake and it's embarrassing
some of our members."

There was a surprising variety of arguments from the floor of the meeting
while Julia uncharacteristically relented to allow those present to discuss
Katy's bizarre suggestion completely. Monica opined that nothing, no matter
how apparently silly, should be just ruled out without discussion.

"Something you might not want to try could be right up the next person's
alley and we seemed to be pretty quick to discard suggestions for an outfit
who're up for at least thirty dollars each in the near future when we could
be counting our profits. We really can't go on like this because next year
it'll be three-thousand and the year after, who knows."

Funnily enough, at least half the women seemed to agree with Monica.

"While it's not an activity I'd ever consider trying," Justine told us,
accompanied by catcalls apparently disputing this assertion, "I'd be a bit
surprised if there wasn't someone here who'd give it a whirl, although not
everyone I'll admit, it is the kind of sweat-of-the-brow activity we could
look at to fill the coffers."

"Look, girls," said Tania Fieldman with more than a hint of exasperation
in her voice. "The whole point here is how much longer we allow the losses
to go on? I've had it and I'm thinking of resigning unless changes are made.
I really don't care how income is earned, as long as we have more incoming
than going, so I'll be grateful for peoples' paying efforts, whatever they
entail."

"Hear, hear!" cried Claudia Symonds. "I believe we should just mind our
own business and be happy we've got incoming funds at last. I just want us
all to make a contribution to our fund in whatever way we think appropriate
and refrain from unfavourable comments upon those who see another, equally
appropriate way to make a dollar. Judge not that you also are not judged."

And that's how the matter was resolved. We would conduct a 'slave-auction'
at each of our quarterly social functions, but try to get the dinner dances
increased in frequency to once per month, cater our functions, staff the
bars and twist arms to get a cabaret band together. Members would have full
discretion as to the jobs they'd perform as a 'slave-for-a-day' and certain
matters discussed at the meeting would not be recorded in the minutes, but
be understood by those present.
*
DAVE

I removed the cassette from the security recorder to replace it, a habit
since that morning I discovered the videotape of Deanne Brookner cavorting
naked with Paul Johnstone and having sex all over the hall, then later, two
other unidentifiable couples putting on a display for the security cameras.

My new tape was of the quarterly general meeting of the ladies charitable
club; they'd forgotten to reset the camera and taped the entire meeting. I
was flabbergasted at some of the more prim members, including my own wife,
who didn't seem to have any real, in principle objection to the concept of
their membership spreading their legs for a philanthropic nooky. Several of
the women shown on the video had featured in my extramarital fantasies, but
because Monica had always been so utterly conventional and worried so much
about what people might think, I'd never mentioned my ideas on swinging to
her.

I didn't know what to do with the hot videotape initially, but eventually
showed it to my best mate Nick Warner whose spouse, Chantal, also featured
prominently in nodding adamantly in support of Monica's speech.

"The cheating bitch!" spat Nick. "How would she feel if I even suggested
putting myself about, then doing it?"

"You did," I said drily, "but she hasn't."

"Yet."

"Yet," I agreed, "and hasn't suggested it for herself."

"No, but how would you feel about actually seeing Monica being screwed by
another guy, me for example?"

"I'd have no problem with that, so long as I gave Chantal one as well."

"No jealousy?"

"Not now. There was a time when I'd have gleefully murdered, but the idea
now turns me on and I fantasize over seeing her with three guys, satisfying
them all like some heroic Amazon woman."

"But would reality be as easy to accept as the fantasy."

"Of course it would....Well I'd like to discover that for myself anyway."

We didn't know whether or not to show the tape to somebody else, but Nick
eventually suggested that we show it at a monthly stag evening where we get
to drink, smoke, gamble, roar, bellow and snort as well as lying as if our
lives depended on it. The main thing was to keep its existence secret from
the girls so that we could exploit it fully. I had a funny feeling that the
contents of the tape could be very beneficial to any husband who knew about
it, but the problem of secure promulgation remained.

Matters began to sort themselves out a few nights later when Monica asked
me about a conversation I'd had with Nick pertaining to extramarital nooky.
Apparently Chantal had overheard a bit of it and thought that we guys might
be about to put the hard word on them to swap partners for sex.

"No darling," I assured her. "We were just yarning over our fantasies and
whether the reality would ever be as good as how we imagined the encounter
to be. We got no further."

"You fancy Chantal?"

"As it happens I reckon she's truly attractive, but her name only came up
when Nick asked me how I'd feel about watching him, as an example, having
it off with you. We were speaking hypothetically, but I'm not sure that the
real thing could ever arise because he really can't bear the thought of her
having it off with any other guy."

"But you don't have that problem?"

"Only in so far as it was in the context of a friendly foursome involving
us both together."

"So how is it that you're discussing this stuff with Nick and not me; I'm
your wife?"

"Well, it's the sort of stuff that blokes discuss. I mean, you've always
been somewhat conservative about sex, so I didn't think you'd appreciate my
broaching the subject."

"Did you know that we are one of only a few couples in this sub-division
who've never discussed a bit of sexual naughtyness."

"The blokes wouldn't talk about it, so I couldn't know that," I told her.
"Nick hasn't, but I'd be surprised if there weren't others."

"He has you know. Chantal made dire threats if he ever even thought about
having it off with anyone else."

"And the same applies to me, I guess."

"Only in the case of infidelity," she smiled mysteriously.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, there may arise a situation where I give you my permission to bonk
another woman, in a good cause of course."

"What good cause?"

"A charitable cause. Something to help others, like spina bifida kids for
example."

"Yeah?"

"Well, it just might be that a few ladies here might be inclined to offer
themselves as prizes in either a raffle or auction as 'a-slave-for-a-day',
to do whatever their 'masters' please with them."

"Including shagging?" I gasped.

"It'd certainly be negotiable, but it'd only be on if both parties agreed.
Otherwise another task would be performed by the slave."

"Would you have a nooky with your master?"

"Oh, I haven't even come to terms with the idea of offering myself yet. I
mean, before I could make any decision I'd have to discuss it with you, for
your blessing, then make a decision when I was free to."

"I'm astonished."

"At what."

"At you not dismissing the idea out of hand. I'd never have believed that
you would ever have given adulterous sex a second thought, but here you are
thinking it over as a potential experience."

"You don't like it?"

"Au contraire, I love the idea of us doing it with other couples and, if
it ever came to pass, you also being the object of a number of guys' carnal
attentions, simultaneously."

"A gang-bang, you mean?"

I just nodded, never previously considering that I'd ever get to mention
that particular fantasy to my prim little wife.

*
DEIRDRE

At the first cabaret dinner a month later, things went better than anyone
could have hoped; the home-cooked dinner was perfect and appreciated by all,
the band of a dozen players, who alternated during the evening, was better
than even they expected and the 'slave-for-a-day' was enormous fun, not to
mention embarrassing for some, as the debt was erased by the 'sale' of nine
women priced at two-hundred dollars each. And we made a profit on the other
activities that night. The ladies 'sold' were the older members of our club
so I didn't expect too much hankypanky among them, but the receipts for the
whole evening eventually climbed to more than three thousand dollars which
indicated some hard labour on somebody's part. I wondered what as I really
couldn't see any of them putting out, except perhaps for Justine who it was
rumoured enjoyed the odd flirtation with tradesmen and delivery people and
whose nude form had been seen cavorting with a group of equally nude scouts
who'd camped at a secluded spot by the river behind her house. There'd been
a lot of sniggering behind hands as they all discussed what badges the boys
might have got for an orgy, but the truth was that nobody could swear that
it was Justine or that any sexual activity had occurred.

Some weeks later I was chatting with my sister over a cappuccino when she
mentioned something that painfully knotted my gut in fear and trepidation.

"I heard there was an epidemic of wanton, free lust over your way," Diane
chuckled huskily. "It seems that some ladies were auctioned off for sexual
slavery for a day. One allowed herself to be gang-banged by all of the guys
at a card night and the other two I heard of starred in a video with three
guys. Ooooh, some girls have all the luck."

"You think it would be fun Di?" I gasped. She had always been your rather
conventional type when it came to morals.

"Yeah, don't you," she grinned. "Dirty old Bob's been trying to get me to
try swinging, but I haven't, yet. Not that long ago I'd have found the idea
of triple penetration both gross and abhorrent, but recently I find myself
fantasising over it as I masturbate. I'm diddling myself several times each
day now and my daydreams are getting totally wild. Bob reckons I'm sex mad
and can't really understand why I don't try a bit of multi-partner sex with
his blessing. I would if I just wasn't so shy about my matronly body."

"You look pretty good for a mother of three," I told her, and she did.

"You trying to talk me into it too, Deirdre dear?" she laughed. "Anyway,
you haven't confessed to what you know about all this sex-for-sale activity
around your neighbourhood. You blushed when I mentioned it, so fess-up."

"It's supposed to be secret; I promised not to tell," I groaned, not ever
able to keep anything from Di. "The worst thing is that Raoul was at a card
game, he goes out most weeks, and it's the only one around our place that I
know of."

"You think he was in on the mob-job? Ooooh, how exciting!" she giggled as
other patrons looked over at us. "Can anybody join your club?"

"It was initially just a social club for our residential development, but
outsiders have joined lately, since the last meeting."

"Would you propose me?"

"Why, I thought you weren't into that sort of thing?"

"Well, I wasn't 'til now."

"What's changed?"

"Me, I think. Since we've been talking I've developed a strong desire to
debauch myself entirely as the object of a multiple fucking."

"Why?"

"Well, because I've read that some women love it while others reckon it's
the worst experience imaginable, so I don't want to die wondering whether
or not it might have been something I would have enjoyed. Besides, it won't
be long before my remaining looks fade entirely, so I need to get with it."

I thought she was kidding about looks as she still appeared so absolutely
gorgeous and her figure still superb after motherhood, even her boobs which
I'd seen in the raquet club showers on a few occasions recently. Anyway, I
proposed her, seconded by Monica and she was confirmed at the next meeting.

While few details of the dealings between 'masters' and 'slaves' emerged
in the days following the first monthly auction, those stories to which Di
had alluded became common knowledge, although those actually participating
remained anonymous. Mind you we all had our suspicions and time eventually
proved my suspicions correct. Justine and Katy were our new stars of porno
video and Holly had, along with the host's wife, each serially screwed all
dozen poker-playing guests, and the host. It seems he'd promised his spouse
a gang-bang for her birthday and she'd asked that one of her friends share
the experience with her, but none of those asked would accept the challenge.
Then the auctions came along and a partner was found, although not entirely
enthusiastic initially, but an ardent participant when her hubby encouraged
her to give it a try and not spending future time in wondering how it might
have been for her.
*
RAOUL

The gambling night across at Barry Hooper's place seemed to kick off like
any other I'd attended, but an hour after the first deal two women appeared
to dispense snacks and pour beers. It was Nadine, Bazza's gorgeous brunette
wife, accompanied by pert, red-haired Holly Yates, whom he'd bought at our
auction, both clad in sexy French housemaid outfits of lace and transpatent
fabrics. Neither wore a bra and their crotches were as hairless as the day
they'd been born, their demeanour giving me the distinct impression that an
eventful evening lay ahead.

Nothing occurred for another hour or so, but most of the guys were horny
and weren't paying a lot of attention to their cards with the distractions.

"What's the word, Baz?" asked Steve.

"Just cards, and a beer or two."

"Come on, mate, the beans?"

He looked around the table at the expectant faces and grinned crookedly.

"Alright then, can you keep a secret?"

We all nodded sincerely.

"Well," said Barry, "it's Nadine's birthday today and I asked her choices
for presents. She told me she'd heard some tale about some sheila who asked
her hubby for a mobjob and thought she'd like to try one too. You could've
knocked me down with a pubic hair, but when I thought about it I could see
it was just a leg-pull and decided to put it all together to see how far it
would run before she pulled the pin. I thought it would be before now to be
truthful. Should I be getting worried?"

"You don't want her to do it?"

"The idea of her doing it is unbelievably hornraising, but I don't really
think I could just stand and watch."

"We'll tie you to a chair then," suggested the ever-helpful Ken Rossiter.

"Are you sure she doesn't think it's for real."

"Oh Christ, that'd be even more embarrassing," Barry cringed on thinking
of the repercussions. "She'd kill me for embarrassing her that much."

Any decision was taken out of his hands then, as Holly appeared to inform
us that all was in readiness for Nadine's birthday gift to be presented and
that anyone not having showered that evening should do so then. We followed
her into the dining room where a nude Nadine was tied across the table, her
high-heeled, platform sandals allowing her to stand on tiptoe with her trim
bottom thrust rearward and her hairless vulva exposed to invite penetration.
A large beach towel lay spread on the carpet beneath her feet to absorb any
stray semen.

"Come on then, chaps," she urged us, her voice partly muffled by a pillow
under her face. "All of you."

"You sure, darling?" asked Baz hesitantly.

"'Course," she giggled. "Come on, get them organized, sweetheart. Quick."

Everyone hesitated and Nadine, using extreme peripheral vision to see me,
told me to kick things off. I dropped my trousers, I was very horny by then,
put a blob of lubricant on the knob and shoved my dick inside her impatient
pussy.

"Ooooh! Aaaah!" she sighed gratefully as I started rhythmically thrusting
my hips to her rotating bottom.

It wasn't much of a nooky, but it was, nevertheless, a fuck and I happily
ejaculated a goodly squirt of warm semen into her womb, causing her back to
arch momentarily and to jerk before going on as Ken slid his dick into her.
The blokes were jostling to be next, although two of them had slipped away,
apparently finding it all a bit too immoral, but then returned later to get
theirs.

Holly had been following Nadine around to record her at work serving food
and drink with a camcorder, and vice versa. Nadine's time tied to the table
had also been taped, so when all the guys, plus some seconds, had given her
one, Holly got down to only her stockings and leant back open legged on the
table for hers while Nadine wielded the camera.

I waited second time, wanting to know how a completely shagged woman felt
and discovering it was as I'd thought; limp, slack mouthed and pretty well
unable to function due to erratically, ongoing climax. However, both ladies
later got into triple penetration and performed in a much more active style.

It was so arousing that I had five nookies in as many hours, although I'm
a little embarrassed at the number of cocks that Nadine and Holly were made
to accommodate during the night. It all seemed to be a bit debauched to me,
although both women appeared okay with it at the time and have since spoken
with more than a little pride about their accomplishment.

I find the idea of seeing or even just suspecting Deirdre of partaking in
something similar to be as arousing to me, although I'm certain it will be
around the time of the first blizzard in Hell before I see it occur.

*
JUSTINE

As the main proponents of the 'slaves-for-a-day' concept, Katy and I felt
an obligation to volunteer ourselves for auction and, as things turned out,
we were first to be knocked down by honorary auctioneer, Malcolm Howard. We
weren't at all sure as to the fate which awaited us, but Katy was sure that
it involved sex and was very happy about the prospect, her domestic fucking
frequency having fallen away as the sounds of wedding bells receded further
into her past.

We spent the previous day at her house tarting ourselves up, so to speak,
having a full-body wax, adding temporary tattoos, performing careful shaves
around our genital areas and light blonding our hair.

It seemed that our buyers, Del Symonds and Joshua Fieldman, had some kind
of co-operative venture in mind as we two were both to go to Del's house on
the same night. Katy seemed even more pleased as she seemed to think that I
had some experience in the field, referring to rumoured events in which I'd
supposedly debauched myself with such disparate groups as boy scouts and an
entire minibus load of male, ecological scientists from Asia. Those stories
were wild exaggerations as there were only twelve in the scouting troop and
not many more in the scientific party. And some of them were gay too!

We went on to another house where we were introduced to Josh's brother-in-
law who was hosting a friend's bucks party. Katy and I, it seemed, were to
initially video proceedings, then to be the strippers. How far we went was
entirely up to us. Vince gave us each a tight, gold minifrock to wear while
we worked, neither of us bothering to wear undies which would leave lines.

We moved about the room full of men videoing everyone and sipping the odd
drink until we were ushered into a bedroom and handed our costumes, such as
they were, all in white net and gold piping with velcro fastenings. As Katy
was keen to go out first I watched from the rear as she put on the hottest,
most salacious dancing performance I'd ever seen. Every part of her lovely,
voluptuous body wiggled and jiggled with the music as she stripped to show
her full-tanned figure and danced naked for them until the tape ran out.

It was a hard act to follow, but I did my best and got a healthy round of
sustained applause as the tape ended I and tripped nakedly back to our room
to shower the sweat off. When I was towelling myself off, Katy returned for
a quick confab.

"They reckon they'll donate a further five hundred each if we stay in the
nicky for the rest of the night," she told me breathlessly. "I'm okay with
that, if you are."

We went out nude apart from our high-heeled shoes and makeup, receiving a
warm welcome from the guys, discovering that they were watching porn videos
about women involved in mobjobs. Katy was mesmerized, unconsciously sliding
one hand down her taut belly to play with her clitoris as she stared at the
action on the screen.

"Does that appeal to you Katy?" asked Josh.

"Oh yes!" she exhaled as he slid a hand down her posterior cleft to press
her clitty too.

We all went into the games room where a huge chenile bed cover was thrown
over two big beanbags and Katy reclined expectantly as the guys stripped in
preparation for what was showing signs of becoming a fairly active evening.

Katy needed no prompting to accommodate her first male, then a second and
a third in her anal passage and mouth as I taped her fucking furiously with
obvious delight at her situation.

Del took the video camera from me and indicated that I should join my pal
on the beanbag, spreading my legs and smiling self-consciously on reclining
beside her, more than happy that my first sexual partner was quickly on me
and into me to ameliorate the embarrassment of being the focus of attention
for so many.

A second guy was trying to slide his hard tool into my nether regions and
it wasn't until he'd forced it inside my tightly stretched love sheath that
I understood that that's where he intended it to go. A third dick inside my
mouth and my cup runneth over, as it were, the three of them coming quickly
and copiously while their warm semen came from my vagina under the pressure
of two cocks in there.

The second round was over as rapidly as the first, then the third, after
which we repaired to the bathroom to wash up and fix our outward appearance
before going back for a few drinks with the blokes. I hadn't come with all
those cocks in me, I don't know why, being a normally excitable girl, but I
knew that Katy had, long and loudly.

My earlier double penetration, in one orifice, had given people ideas and
the two of us were subjected to an ongoing doubling up. Taking two dicks in
my quim wasn't at all difficult, but my unwonted rectal rosebud was quite a
different matter, as my cries of pained excitement testified. Katy too made
sounds of both discomfort and real pleasure too, as she found herself being
double-buggered for the first time, her almost hysterical giggling evidence
of her enjoyment of what eventuated.

Of course the cameras were on us, almost in us, the whole time as I found
it hard to concentrate on my pleasure while I had to be mindful of display-
ing my all in the most lascivious manner possible. I eventually came with a
rush that scared me at first, but then relaxed in the pile of sweaty bodies
around mine as we hugged and convulsed ecstatically in a wonderfully shared
experience, something I haven't felt since.

After another visit to the bathroom and more drinks we did it all again,
leaving me feeling a bit raw around the crotch and my lips and nipples sore
and swollen from all the attention they'd received from the blokes. I guess
it's like childbirth though; one quickly forgets the bad bits and lines up
again for more in no time at all.

"How did it go," my sleepy spouse enquired as I slid my freshly showered
body into our bed beside him.

"We were gangbanged," I told him simply. "By about twenty guys, more than
once each."

I could see that he was grinning before he pulled me hard to him and slid
his hard cock gently into my still-drooling snatch from behind, refraining
from thrusting all night.

Since then I've tried it again several times, as I indicated, as well as
having experienced most of the other sexual activities which we've employed
to put our charitable fund firmly in the black. While I can't speak for any
of the other ladies, I think Katy's idea was a ripper.

*
TRISHA

I was one of those who'd seen Katy's idea of a 'slave' auction as being a
truly odious idea due to its potential to give anybody associated with it a
bad name. I'm not a prude, being one of the free beach set, but was able to
see the dangers posed by overtones of immorality that might arise from any
perception of communal prostitution.

In spite of all that I eventually offered myself for auction to assist in
some small way, not expecting the huge bids that some of our less inhibited
members were getting, being knocked down to Don McVickers for a modest sum.
As it turned out he only wanted me to modify and instal a program he'd been
working on for his wife while she was away for the weekend.

Tom had taken the kids out to eat fast food, so when Don asked if I would
like to go out to dinner, I accepted. It was seven-thirty, I'd been working
at it since nine that morning, I was hungry and badly needed a shower.

I went home and readied myself in a sleeveless black cocktail dress, lace
topped stayup stockings and leopardskin pattered bra and thong undies. I've
no real recollection of racing about to get dressed, except looking into my
full length mirror and thinking that nine years of marriage had, along with
Mother Nature, been very kind to me. I was still slim, long-legged and firm
from daily exercise, my freckles didn't worry me any more and my surfergirl
blonde hair had grown out to its natural light auburn. I didn't really feel
matronly as I didn't, to my mind, look that way.

Don's wit sparkled beneath his ordinary, academic cocker-spaniel exterior,
having me in stitches with several tales which would have sounded extremely
exaggerated from another mouth.

All the lights were out at my place, so Don suggested a nightcap at his.

"Tell me Trish," he asked on handing me my drink. "Would you think it out
of order if I mentioned my desire to have sex with you, not love, just sex?"

"Funnily enough," I blushed, "my sub-conscious has been tending me toward
that for the last hour or so."

"How so?"

I stood to unfasten my frock and let it slip to the carpet, displaying my
leopard patterned underthings to him.

"Oh, I see," he breathed.

"You'll have to pay me, for the charitable fund I mean."

"Of course," he agreed. "We can't have folks thinking you're promiscuous."

"Yes, it's okay if I do it for a good reason. I wouldn't feel right about
just doing it for my selfish pleasure or for you to think this relationship
is more than business between friends."

He nodded again. "Exactly," he smiled faintly.

Having seen each other naked at the beach, there wasn't any mystery about
what the other looked like unclad, so we discarded our clothing without any
discussion.

Don was very ready, his dead straight dick sticking out horizontally from
his hairy crotch, but was obviously going to see to my pleasure too. I went
down on his lap to suck and tease his shiny cock before he pulled away from
me to dive head first into my crotch, probing his agile tongue deep into my
vagina before finding my pleasure pearl to suck and press it until I called
out in my excitement.

"Nice?" he enquired.

"Mmmmmm," was all I could manage.

Still kneeling between my open thighs he nibbled and sucked until a great
rush of erotic sensation shook my body as I came, jolting with convulsions
of exquisite pleasure. He slid in behind me on the couch, pulling me into a
reclining position, lifted my upper thigh and thrilled beyond belief as his
cock unexpectedly penetrated my juicy sheath.

I still hadn't quite finished coming and was probably a little befuddled
as he seemed to be inside and all around me, kissing and sucking my nipples,
licking and biting my neck and shoulders as he diddled my clit and tongued
my ears. It was all too much and I quickly came once again, more intensely
than before as I slipped into some kind of fog where I was conscious of his
hard dick thrusting in and out of my tight rear portal, an absolutely novel
experience to me.

After what seemed like some hours he came, gushing warm semen deep inside
my bowel before gripping me tightly in a climactic embrace until his spasms
of delight finally abated.

In due course he chivalrously walked me home and unlocked the front door.

After that evening it all appeared so easy and my career in philanthropic
prostitution really took off, although I insisted on being treated politely
and didn't take part in the more debauched practices apparently enjoyed by
many of my neighbours.
*
DAVE

The invitation to the Fazackerley's party exhorted us to bring cash money
for a really charitable saturday evening. Monica had taken the kids over to
her parents' house for the evening, she'd not yet decided to join the women
who played for charity or to swing as I'd inferred from our last discussion
on sex, but had become far more interested in who had had it off with whom.

The party was on the extensive lawns at the back of their house where two
marquees had been set up, the first to look like an old western saloon, the
other off limits initially. The music, dress and theme were country and I'd
made an effort with chaps an ancient Webley Scott 38 calibre service pistol
that my great-grandfather had carried in battle in the Holy Land as a Light
Horse officer during the Great War. The leather belt and holster looked the
part anyway.

There were gambling tables for blackjack, poker, crown and anchor as well
as roulette, the ever-favourite at games nights. I wandered around chatting
to the other guys and sipping a beer until it suddenly struck me that there
were no women present other than Denni Fazackerley, our hostess, wearing an
appropriately western bar-girl outfit. Her generous bosom was upthrust in a
fairly startling manner by her bra and her solid, fishnet covered legs were
visible through her open front skirt that had a bustle behind. She probably
wasn't on my mental list of the local ladies I'd like to introduce my prick
to before that evening, but a noticeable tingling sensation in my underdaks
changed all that.

'Surely she's not going to do a solo mobjob with all these guys,' thought
I, looking around at fifty or sixty blokes already there.

As horny as I felt from looking at her, I didn't think that I should be a
party to crippling her for life.

She called for quiet, holding up her hands with her palms forward.

"We'll soon be joined by some ladies and I require every one of you to be
on your absolute best behaviour, okay? I want to see good manners and every
lady treated as you'd treat your own," she demanded as most nodded in their
agreement with her question.

I was paying more attention to the roulette wheel than to events going on
around me.

"Howdy, cowboy," husked a female voice into my ear. "Buy a girl a drink?"

Her substantial bosom was pressed to my arm before I looked around to see
Chantal, her face flushed, smiling self-consciously up at me. While I don't
remember Miz Kitty having any Chinese or Eurasian girls anong her team, she
did look the part. Her usual air of oriental aloofness had been replaced by
a salaciously playfull manner which told me that I'd soon be enjoying a hot
sexual interlude with my wife's best friend, making me glad that Monica was
elsewhere that night.

I got her a Bolle and she'd added to my stake of chips when I returned to
the table with a raging erection in my trousers.

"You've got a hidden gun too," she giggled as she slid one manicured hand
into a hip pocket to grasp my stiff dick. "Large calibre."

"You're a very different person tonight," I observed.

"It's my job," she grinned, squeezing my cock. "Don't you like it?"

"What's the job?"

She gave me a long look.

"What do I look like, or feel like?" she asked, stroking my cock again.

"I didn't want to seem to misunderstand your signals."

"I don't think you can misinterpret this," she laughed lightly, squeezing
my tingling penis once again and leading me out to the other marquee.

It had been set up like a lounge with fake windows and drapes, pouffes or
beanbags spread around a carpeted floor and low lights to set an atmosphere
of genteel debauchery. Two couples were already at it, fucking like there's
no tomorrow, the surprisingly attractive and vocal Julia Draper with Vaughn
Myers ramming his member deep into her and, further away...........my wife!
My best mate, Chantal's husband Nick, was hard at it, pounding her pussy in
a wild, sexual gallop as she writhed and jolted beneath his glistening body
in a manner that clearly demonstrated her enjoyment of another bloke's cock
in her sweet cunt.

Now that the ice had been broken by Monica and Julia it seemed that other
ladies had screwed up the courage to try a philanthropic fuck and were then
dragging their 'clients' into the marquee to make a dollar for charity. All
seemed keen to get their gear off and a dick inside themselves and I was so
intent upon watching women like Holly Moody and Sally Pearce bare their tan,
well-kept bodies that I hadn't noticed Chantal doing the same.

She'd always had a thing about exposing her body to the sun, claiming she
became unattractively dark-skinned, so her substantial figure was very pale
by comparison with the rest of those present. One tends to think of ladies
of Chinese or even partly Chinese stock as being petite, but Chantal wasn't
from the normal mould, being a good one-seventy-three tall and built in the
manner of those well built models painted by Titian. Like Monica she'd had
her matronly bosom enhanced by implantation to give her startlingly upright
breasts and working out had given her an absolutely voluptuous figure.

"Come on then," she told me. "No time for fucking around, so to speak."

She lay back on a beanbag, solid, black nylon sheathed legs spread to let
me see her bare, pink quim below a small patch of silky, black hairs on her
pubic mound, fingering her clitty with excitement. Her body trembled when I
embraced her, her lips quivering against mine as we kissed, before slipping
one thigh under my waist and the other over my upper hip. She expertly slid
a condom down around my member before I felt her lovely pussy at the tip of
my cock and pressed forward gently to fully penetrate a warm, wet sheath.

"Ooooh!" she gasped. "That's lovely."

"Outstanding," I exhaled as I held her tightly and rhythmically thrust my
penis easily in and out of her truly unctuous vagina.

When I tried to kiss her again she wasn't really interested in lovemaking,
just being wholly and totally fucked, a point she made clear to me by words
which I'd never heard escape her lips before that moment. She became a wild
thing, clutching and clawing at my bottom as she rammed her broad hips back
at mine with surprising strength, losing the rhythm and giving out a series
of gasps before going rigid as she came. Fortunately, I too was ready for a
good spoof as I buried my organ deep within her belly and gushed warm semen
into the franger I wore.

We lay in a tightly hot, sweaty embrace as involuntary thrills of ecstacy
convulsed our bodies with ever-decreasing spasms and we kissed with sloppy
lips.

"Oh My God!!" she mouthed at me, eyes wide.

"Alright then?"

She sighed deeply.

"Exactly what I'd hoped for," she grinned. "A thumping good fuck without
refinement or genteel consideration for my gender. Loved it!"

She kissed me again before belatedly asking for her money.

"Come on then," she giggled, "I've got things to do, guys to make."

She led me through the fornicating bodies to a bathroom at the end of the
tent where we washed up and she reapplied her makeup.

Deanne Brookner was next to proposition me while I stood by the bar watch-
ing my dear wife doing something similar with Len Noble. After my bout with
Chantal I found gambling a lot less exciting in the knowledge that any lady
there was available to me and, since I'd viewed her disporting herself with
Paul in such a salacious manner, Leanne had become one of my fantasy lovers.

"Hi," she smiled warmly. "Buy a girl a drink."

She was hardly a girl, by any estimation, but a truly attractive woman of
thirty-something who still had her natural breasts showing beneath her semi-
transparent bodice. Like all of them her bottom had spread from child-birth
and she'd grown laterally, but had kept it under control at the gym.

"Do you remember what you were doing on September the twenty-ninth last,
at around two in the morning?" I enquired.

She looked at me blankly, frowned as she calculated when it was and then
blushed deeply as she grinned uncomfortably.

"Oh Christ, you know," she gasped in embarrassment. "Who told you? Was it
Paul? He promised he wouldn't tell."

I put her mind at rest by telling her that nobody knew about the video or
had even seen it, other than me, then asked how it came about.

"Oh, it wasn't much really. A couple old school-mates reminiscing over a
drink or two too many, actually. Paul told me how he'd letched over my body
and how he'd wanked over a fantasy of shagging me at school and ever since,
if one could believe that. I did, it must have been all that plonk to have
lowered my inhibitions so far, suggesting that we rectify the matter forth-
with. You know," she smiled wanly, "I'd actually convinced myself that I'd
dreamed the whole thing. Could you see much?"

"Well, let's say you gave new meaning to the aphorism about its paying to
advertize," I grinned.

"Oh, so you did," she chuckled. "Not much point in pretending to be other
than a goer to you then, eh, Dave?"

In the marquee she wasted no time in dropping her costume, pushed me down
and knelt astride me before slotting my cock in her pleasure pouch to clamp
it delightfully with her practiced vagina. When she leaned forward above me
her magnificent bosom swayed and quivered in my face, her areolae stretched
so tightly that the low lights were reflected from the pink skin, then low-
ered them further to let me tongue and suck the sensitive protuberances.

"That's so lovely, Dave," she sighed.

I continued to continue until I felt her sheath tighten around my member
again and she gasped and shuddered warmly as I realized that she'd come.

Sitting up once more she took a condom from its sachet and put it between
her lips, slid backwards down my legs and rolled the latex sheath down over
my stiff organ. Kneeling upright again, she marched carefully up until her
perfumed pussy was right in my face and I stuck my tongue between the hair-
less, pink lips to find her clitty. I pressed it hard into a protuberance I
discovered there and felt her jerk at the thrill of my success.

She slid back down again and I felt the cooling sensation on my chest and
belly where her cunt had wet me with love juice, my member sliding straight
inside her without our touching it. She kissed my mouth, her tongue probing
deeply as she clutched me with passion, beginning to move her ample hips as
she rode my cock.

"Ride-em cowgirl," I grunted as she clutched and screwed her tossing tits
and grimaced at the obvious pleasure she felt.

What a great whore she'd make, I thought, if she took it up for real, but
then again, maybe not. Maybe her excitement was a reflection of her present
situation, not any real talent as a slut, although one had to wonder at the
ease with which the situations arose; like her dalliance with Paul.

Her broad buttocks slapped loudly and wetly on my thighs and belly as she
gyrated urgently above me until she let out a soprano cry of excitement.

"Oo-ie! Oo-ie! Oo-ie!" she repeated several times until her face contort-
ed with effort and her back arched as she became rigid for a moment before
collapsing forward on to me while I thrust deep and squirted minutely into
her womb.

I got much more than my money's worth as we lay together in the afterglow
of our love, deciding that we'd try it again to see whether it could be as
that effort.

A couple of weeks later I took an early mark from work to collect my kids
from Chantal who'd picked them up after school. They were playing in a tree
house while Chantal prepared their dinner in the kitchen where she was able
to keep an eye on them.

"Howdy there, Cowboy," she joked somewhat nervously.

"Hi," I grinned. "You still feeling pleased with yourself after the great
performance the other night."

"Shouldn't we, I'm including Monica too, as I reckon we did pretty well,"
she flushed, "for rank amateurs."

"You all did really well," I told her. "All the blokes are hanging out to
do it again sometime."

"It's planned," she giggled, "but you won't have to wait that long. We've
been discussing it and Monica and I have given you and Nick our permission
to swing with each other, me with you and he with she, whenever opportunity
presents itself."

"She hasn't mentioned it."

"No, she asked me to do that. We owe you a nooky," she smiled. "They came
for dinner while you were away last week and our kids wanted yours to sleep
over. Monica didn't sleep in the spare room and none of us wore pajamas, so
you probably get the picture from those facts. We had a great time with all
of us trying something novel; Monica and I a little lezzie love and each of
us buggering Nick with a double-end vibrator while he shagged the other."

"Nick's overcome his jealousy then?" I enquired, not having spoken to him
seriously since the night our wives prostituted themselves.

"Yeah," she chuckled. "He's really into the new, slutty me. The fact that
I had seven men enjoy my favours in a little more than five hours without a
problem has convinced me that I'm tougher than he'd thought. Then I trusted
him to screw Monica in our bed in front of me. He's now even keen to see me
double penetrated, since discovering how keen Monica and I are to try it."

"Yeah, she has told me that," I told her.

"So how do you like your new sexual situation?" she asked. "She says that
you're shagging twice a day now, like us."

"Oh, don't get me wrong, I love it, both she being fucked by other blokes
as well as my being able to have it off with other women. The thing is, she
chided me for not talking about swinging, but she's the one not talking."

"We found it easier to get through to Nick with the pair of us to one. He
was checking back with Monica about what I said and we backed each other up
to get him to really understand that women can feel as promiscuous as their
spouses without it being nymphomania. Given the opportunity, a woman has an
immense capacity for sex, a fact that he's now seen for himself with eleven
ordinary housewives he knows satisfying fifty-odd guys while barely raising
a sweat."

"So you, Nick, Monica and I are now officially swingers?"

"Yep, sure are," she smiled coyly.

She appeared to be waiting for something before I stepped across the room
to stand close behind her, her bottom pressing back against my hips while I
lifted her short skirt above her waist to reveal thong panties which I low-
ered to mid-thigh. I unzipped my flies and pulled my hot, hard cock through
the slit in my underdaks and pushed my shiny knob into the dark space below
her posterior cleft. It was warm, wet and ready as I entered her fully with-
out effort.

"Oh, that's lovely Dave," she sighed.

She tightened her vaginal muscles around my shaft, making me thrill as I
slid my hands upward under her soft bra to massage her boobs and pinch and
roll her nipples. We kissed briefly, her head twisted backward to allow our
mouths to meet, but she seemed more interested in some action in our nether
regions and began to gently grind her gorgeous, white bottom as I thrust my
stiff sex organ in and out of her drooling pussy. She reached back to grasp
my flexing bottom, pulling me hard against her trembling body with clawing
fingers while moaning and gasping in pure pleasure. When the kids looked as
if they might be heading up to the house we increased the rate of our pump-
ing until we came in a wild flurry of erotic thrills.

The kids went back to whatever they'd been doing while I remained within
Chantal's wet snatch until we cooled and my dick drooped wetly from her.

"Kiss me Dave," she whispered coyly as she turned to face me and slip her
arms up around my neck. "I'm glad you enjoyed me. I feel better about doing
it with Monica now. And I don't seem to have left a bad impression from our
night in the bordello."

"On the contrary," I told her. "You were fabulous. I'd like to see you do
it again. It's not like play-acting at home. It's much more real."

"You don't think I was just role-playing?"

"No, I meant that you did it so well that it was like being with the real
thing, I imagine. I don't have any experience in that regard, but you made
me feel that anything was possible."

"Nick told me the same thing about being with Monica, but I wasn't really
sure he was being objective about the experience. A real whore, eh.......?"
she mused dreamily as we were interrupted by the anklebiting horde from the
yard.

By the time they came inside we were 'decent' again and lapsed back into
our normal parental roles with the children. During that following weekend
we not only consumated our new sexual arrangements, but the girls were also
introduced to the delights of both anal sex and double penetration at their
suggestion.

Over succeeding months Chantal and Monica attended most of the 'bordello'
theme parties as volunteer 'working-girls', eventually finding it difficult
to name any of our men acquaintances with whom they hadn't had the pleasure
of knowing in the biblical sense. Nick and I had come to know rather fewer
of the ladies of our neighbourhood, but were constantly surprised as to the
degree to which all of them were prepared to embrace the role they'd under-
taken. On changing into a costume and applying the requisite makeup, they'd
suddenly cease to be suburban matrons and become sultry, lascivious courte-
sans who seemed ready to do anything to please.

Our wives too tried other experiences like working at the barber shop and
eventually putting on a poker party gangbang which later led other women to
emulate its obvious success.

*
DEIRDRE

I was sitting at a table with Diane, her hubby Bob and mine, Raoul, among
others, when the auction was announced. They needed some more volunteers to
put their names up and I knew that my sister had as she was still pestering
me to join her, but I was still very afraid of being propositioned by a guy
who bought me expecting sex and suffering the humiliation of my refusal. It
seemed that I was alone in our group, the only non-volunteer for auction.

Katy and Holly went off before Diane who attracted heavy bidding as a new
face in the village. I'd relaxed as the bidding got underway and people did
not hassle me about joining in again, so you can imagine my surprise when I
heard my name called to come up om stage. I tried to protest that I hadn't
put my name forward, but became so embarrassed that I decided not to make a
fuss and go on up.

I was snapped up for nearly as much as Di by Ken Rossiter and went across
to see him on the following afternoon. I was so relieved that his proposal *
was for me to be a lingerie-clad hairdresser and manicurist on the saturday
of that week. The Rossiters had a granny flat above their garage where we'd
operate, Ken would act as cashier, go-fer and general dogsbody for me, also
the advertising and PR man to bring in the punters as my clientele wouldn't
be confined to our male membership.

Apparently Ken had heard that I'd paid my way through university with my
hairdressing skills, learned from my parents who were in the business, that
might provide an ongoing income for the charity, particularly if I could be
persuaded to wear less and less and he consequently raised the price for my
service. If I'd known of his ultimate aim back then I'm sure I'd never have
accepted his original proposition, but ignorance being bliss, as they say,
it was too late when I realized that I didn't want turn back anyway.

On the first outing I wore, at Ken's behest, black high leg, lace topped,
stay-up stockings, lacy black thong or g-string brief and soft bra set with
a velvet choker, stilletto heeled platform sandals and black bead jewelery,
There was an awful lot of boob and bottom showing as I had a mite more than
most, but being a warm day I found it a plus when I'd got over the worst of
my embarrassment.

Diane, who'd fetched big bucks at the auction, was offered the same money
again to spend the night with Ike Fieldman as Tania and their children were
spending the weekend at her parents house. Of course she accepted, it being
her reason for joining the group, experiencing a very active twenty-two and
a half hours playing the complete harlot and severely depleting poor Ike's
ability to perform sexually for Tania over the next few days.

She was quite shameless as she regaled us with every minute detail of the
sexathon with Ike, wanted to hear about my day as a sex slave before making
Raoul admit to having partaken of Nadine Hooper's birthday gangbang with an
equally amenable Holly Yates. She also got him to admit that he'd be as hot
and horny as a rhinoceros if he knew that I had succumbed to the temptation
of shagging for charity, that being as much his favourite fantasy as Bob's.
Apparently Di and Bob had fucked to a standstill when she'd arrived home to
tell him of her adventures, the kids apparently unimpressed at having feed
themselves that evening.

With more ladies offering themselves at auction there were longer periods
between one's name being drawn, so I was happy with my sinecure, able to be
contributing without having to consider putting out for the clientele: that
was until Di offered to help out and changed everything.

She'd seen Ken separately and made their arrangements, arriving early on
the following saturday. I wore the same costume as I'd done on the previous
weekend, but Di wore a spectacular, gold g-string of sequins and chain with
matching pasties over her nipples and a pair of gold sandals like mine. She
bent over to retrieve a pin from the floor, giving me an eyeful of her bald,
recently depilated crotch, but make it so obvious that she knew what was on
show. To my surprise I noticed that she'd had her bellybutton and her inner
vulvar labia pierced with a banana bar and ring respectively as well as her
hair being blonded lighter than ever before, making her look just a little
too 'available' from my perspective.

While I styled mens hair, my sister did manicures and vice-versa until we
had an empty salon. Di was chatting to our last customer who was offering a
large sum of money for a service which wasn't on the advertised list. Being
Di she couldn't pass up a challenge and they went into the bedroom where no
bed resided, just a sturdy, decorative table.

They were in no mood to delay things and she was nude in a flash, fitting
a condom on his erect tool as he shed his shirt. Leaning her ample buttocks
at the edge of the tabletop she pulled him between her parted legs and his
pearshaped, purple knob to her avid vulva where it vanished within with one
easy pelvic push. They proceeded to thrust their hips together fiercely and
I could watch no longer, but from feeling intrusive rather than repulsion.

Di shagged more and more of our clientele over succeeding weeks and, even
though Ken had provided a bed for that purpose, most guys seemed to prefer
a knee-trembler against the old jarrah table. They also offered us monetary
inducement to work naked, which Di undertook with alacrity, but I felt that
my body wasn't up to it as well as my normal modesty restraining me.

On another child free occasion, at Bob and Di's home this time, they were
all trying to persuade me to loosen up and be a player in our neighbourhood-
wide, adultery epidemic. In reality, something less than half of our ladies
had actually had a sexual liason as a slave, with their master for the day.
Most, it seems, did it because it was all that was required of them for the
fulfilment of the deal and they could leave immediately afterward, while it
was unusual for any to have done it twice. However, at the other end of the
scale were those like Di, Holly, Justine, Katryn, Tania and Claudia, not to
mention, almost unbelievably, our very genteel Chairperson, Julia, who'd so
enthusiastically taken to philanthropic whoring.

Without making a conscious decision I went and had my tits reinflated and
my hair blonded as well as a complete body depilation; and I mean complete.
When I returned to my weekend job a couple of weeks later Di looked pleased
and not only because of the relief from her recent workload that I provided.

As I still had a few marks under my boobs I wore the gold outfit with the
half cup bra while Di continued to work in her birthday suit. She was quick
to notice my nervousness and suggested that I accept the first proposal for
sex I received, but my client, Malcolm, wanted to poke Di's pussy.

I was relieved at first, then envious of my sister who was really popular
with our customers. However, an hour later I had my initial experience as a
harlot at the hands of the seriously hunky Mike Tenney. He too wanted to do
it in the upright position so we went to the table where I slipped a condom
over his thick cock and dabbed KY on the knob as he dropped his trousers. I
shed my g-string and leaned back with my hands on his shoulders as he poked
at my vulva with his tool, finding the entrance and filling my juicy vagina
with hot, hard flesh.

With my shoes, our crotches were at the same altitude and we were able to
thrust our hips together with our legs straight. He rammed his pelvis to my
crotch with greater cadence and ferocity until he stiffened in orgasm while
leaving me unrelieved. I was more than a bit randy as I attended to my next
client, but he also had a yen to use my body and did it to the satisfaction
of us both.

I then had the confidence to work in the nude, apart from shoes and other
minor embellishment such as jewelery or stockings, having several piercings
like Di and even a tattoo on my bottom. We started going to the free beach
as I felt very good about myself, both in the physical and internal senses.
My Saturdays were then something I looked forward to and, after presenting
themselves as customers, Bob and Raoul chose me and Di respectively for the
more personal service in the other room. This led to regular swinging among
the four of us, initially, then an ever widening circle of sexual partners
as we were invited to neighbourhood parties designed for that purpose. With
the passage of time there were fewer abstainers as recreational sex became
the sport of choice.

They say that too much of a good thing is not a good thing and our chosen
thing was getting harder with the passage of time. Several other women had
come in to assist us; some as nude floor sweeper/whores and a few others as
hairdresser/whores and manicurist/whores, none of them having any interest,
they claimed, in the provision of sexual services. However, whenever one of
them was asked if they'd mind looking after a customer in that manner, they
would blush, ask "me?", pointing to themselves, then go into the bedroom to
get on with it. The carnal culture had taken hold of even the most unlikely
candidates for harlotry amongst our members; prim and proper ladies who, on
tasting the forbidden fruit, had flung off their moral inhibitions in their
quest for more nymphean pleasures.
*