The Belgravia Club Read Free

laughed. He increased the pace of his thrusts and Claire closed her eyes,
smiled, and began to groan with pleasure.
    Typical Claire, I thought, no
shame. Well, I wasn’t going to be a wallflower. I turned and left the room,
closing the door behind me. Although it had felt embarrassing, I couldn’t help
thinking there was something...well...arousing about seeing them like that.
I’ve been with a fair few men, but I’ve never been in a situation like that.
    Something about the whole house
affected me. The exquisite decor, the handsome men in the drawing room, it was
like...what was it they called porn for women? Erotica, that was it. It was like some sort of erotic film. I noticed that my hands were
trembling slightly and I had butterflies in my stomach. And was that the first,
tiny tingling in my thighs...? A sudden urge to speak to Paul came over me and
I crossed to the stairs. I smiled as I saw Paul come out of one of the other
doors on the landing and walk towards me.
    ‘I was just looking for you’ I
said, coquettishly.
    ‘I was just looking for you too’ he
grinned. ‘Lady Jane asks if you would wait for her in here’.
    He opened a door and stepped aside
to allow me in.
    There was no awkwardness as he put
his arm round my waist and led me inside. It seemed perfectly natural to be
going into a bedroom with a perfect stranger. I’d normally put up some sort of
token resistance but I didn’t feel the need for any such silly games. The room
we entered was similar to the last in size; an incredibly well furnished
bedroom only without the four poster bed and a more feminine, floral decor;
William Morris wallpaper and some bright post-Impressionist paintings.
    I heard the sigh of a champagne
cork and saw Paul pouring more Moet from an ice bucket by the bed.
    ‘How civilised’ I said.
    ‘Oh yes’ he replied. Lady Jane pays
great attention to detail – nothing’s too good for the members here.’
    ‘Are you a member of
this...club...then?’ I asked as we clinked our glasses
together.
    ‘Me?’ He laughed. ‘Oh not exactly. I just help out Lady Jane from time to
time. It’s always good fun’.
    ‘Where is Lady Jane?’
    ‘Oh, somewhere
around. She likes the members to just get on with things, it’s that sort of place. She’ll probably come into say hello in a minute’.
    I heard a soft tapping and realised
someone was knocking at a door which I guessed led into an adjoining room. I
heard a familiar voice trilling.
    ‘Knock knock!’ The door opened and
Claire wafted in, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and
wearing some sort of silky robe, under which her slim figure was, I guessed,
naked.
    ‘I hope I’m disturbing something!’
she giggled. ‘Oh, good, you’ve got Paul, lucky thing. I had to change men; poor
old David’s worn out’. She led in a handsome black man in a towelling robe. ‘ This is Marco; Marco this is Sara, and you know Paul of
old’. She smiled.
    ‘Would you like some champagne, Lady
Jane?’ asked Paul.
     I was getting very confused
now.
    ‘Perhaps I ought to explain’
offered Claire.
    ‘Perhaps you had!’ I replied.
    ‘Come and sit beside me darling,
and I’ll make it all clear.’ She patted the pillows on the bed. I kicked off my
shoes and propped myself up against the bedhead .
Claire put her arm around me. Marco and Paul sat reclining in armchairs,
watching us with interest.
    ‘Now, as you’ve probably guessed,
I’m not really Lady Sara Underwood. In fact she doesn’t even exist. She’s just a
little cover story for the club. I imagine by now you’ve guessed what sort of
things go on here’.
    I said I had a rough idea.
    ‘So, I don’t really want to use my
real name when I’m inviting people to a....’
    ‘High class
knocking shop?’ I suggested.
    Claire’s laughter pealed through
the room. I tried again.
    ‘Alright
then...swingers’ club’.
    ‘Oh darling, you’re being suburban
again! We’re nothing to do with knocking shops, swingers, Hugh Hefner or