Erotica club

Growing up as a teen, erotic stories, audio clips, comics, magazines and videos had been a staple of your evenings. Seeing that there is a club devoted to erotica naturally piques your interest, and as much as you want to spend time with your roommates, you expect you'll spend plenty of time with them in the coming weeks.

"Aw, you're no fun," teases Hazel, when you relate your decision to your friends.

"Hot, though," adds Naomi, giving you her signature alluring smirk.

"Well, obviously," flushes the brunette, her eyes lingering on your chest.

The three girls get up, and head to their respective destinations. Emma glances back. "I hope you'll at least join us this evening - we're planning on testing out the hot tub. It won't be the same without you."

You wolf down the rest of your lunch, and navigate your way to the library, which the timetable provides as the club's location. Well, 'navigate' might be generous; you wander around the campus with no understanding of direction, until you find an older student willing to take pity on you and direct you to the 'Dry Building', as it's apparently known.

You burst into the library, to see eight or nine students sitting in a circle on beanbags. You scan their faces for anyone familiar, and your eyes alight on Zara. She seems happily surprised to see you, mirroring your own reaction, and beckons you to join them.

"Felix! I'm glad you can join us! Come on, take a seat. You can share with me."

"Ach," you say in your strongest Scottish accent. "It pains ma wee heart to do so, but ah will make that hard sacrifice."

You're somewhat relieved that this elicits a chuckle from the group, and you join Zara on her beanbag. It's much more intimate than you expected - Zara's small body nestles against yours, and you can feel the weight of her breast resting on your side.

"Good guess, but your accent was a couple of countries off the setting of our erotic short story for today," Zara smiles at you. Her face is mere inches away. "Would you be happy to read the male part?"

"Sure," you nod, stretching an arm around her waist. She doesn't protest.

The novella turns out to be a historical piece set in pre-revolutionary France. The protagonist is Valérine, a young scullery maid, serving in the household of a wealthy and prominent nobleman. Every day she scrubs dishes until her fingers blister and bleed, unable to express any kind of dissatisfaction for fear of losing her only source of income. The little time she has off at the weekends she is **** to spend with the landlord's bullish son, whom her parents have betrothed her to in exchange for forgiveness of their debt. The only bright point in her life is the rare occasions she is sent to deliver food to the young Viscount Alexandre, the leader of the household.

Julie, a pretty girl with tumbling brown curls, reads the narration with rapture. "One fateful morning Valérine was sent to deliver breakfast to the viscount's room. When she knocked on the door and heard no response, she made her first mistake, gently pushing open the door. But there must have been some mistake, for it opened to reveal the viscount, wearing only his breeches, sitting on his bed and staring into the distance. For a heartbeat, Valérine was captivated by the sight of his torso, which must have been chiselled from the finest marble, to produce such a heavenly form. Then she realised her error, and tried to close the door without being noticed."

"Don't go," you read as the viscount, following the direction to be soft with his words.

"My Lord?" Valérine's words are read by Zara, who looks up to you as she does so. You can almost believe she is Valérine, the emotion in her eyes seems so real.

"Sit with me."

"Averting her eyes, the young maid placed her tray on the oak chest, and uncertainly took a seat next to the viscount."

"What is your name?"

"Valérine, my lord."

"For what seemed like an age, master and servant sat in silence on the bed. Valérine did not know what was happening, or what she should do, so she meekly kept her head bowed, and waited."

"Are you happy, Valérine?"

"It is not my master's concern whether I am happy," Zara reads humbly.

You sigh as directed. "I am not happy either. I do not see what the point of this life is, if neither you, nor I, nor anyone is truly content."

A long pause. Then, tentatively: "My lord... may I venture to ask... why are you unhappy?"

"The viscount seemed to stiffen, awakening from some strange fit of humanism."

"No. You may not. I... never speak of this, servant. Do you understand?"

The story goes on in this manner - naturally, that was not the maid and the viscount's last meeting. The second time, she discovers that the matter relates to love. The third, that as his finances dwindle, he has been **** to offer his hand in marriage to a wealthy but repugnant noblewoman twice his age. And she accepted. As they grow more familiar in one another's company, Valérine grows more and more daring, venturing to offer first words of support, then words of sympathy and empathy. On their fifth meeting, the viscount shows an interest in his lowly servant's life, for the first time. She relates her betrothal to the landlord's son.

"Then you and I are reflections of one another." Viscount Alexandre sums it up well.

"Why must you marry this woman?" wonders Valérine/Zara. "Forgive me for exceeding my place, my lord, but my heart would rather sit better with one I love, whilst being poor, than with one I despise, whilst being wealthy."

"You speak wisely," muses Alexandre/you. "Yet I fear it is not so easy. I have a household to run - and debts to pay. Without me, who would employ my servants? Who would employ you, my dear Valérine? I dare not risk your suffering for my own heart's desire."

Zara/Valérine shifts closer to you. "And what does your heart desire, my lord? Even if only for one night, perhaps it may be satisfied."

"If only for one night," you murmur, barely able to tear your eyes from Zara's to glance at the script. "For who would that harm?"

"If only for one night," breathes Zara, before plunging her lips onto yours. Your bodies, so close for so long, finally embrace, your hands pressing the young woman into your chest, her mouth devouring yours with a passion. You feel your cock pressing against your pants, desperately trying to push through the layers of clothes to the passage resting atop them.

You eventually part, to see that the rest of the group has each dipped a hand into their shorts, and it's not hard to tell that at least one finger is plunging in and out of each girl. Even as her voice catches again and again, Julie resumes the narration:

"The viscount and his servant rolled onto the bed, all their troubles lost in this moment of passion, this moment of desire for the other. Alexandre's hands were fast but gentle, moving with the fine precision of a master pianist. Valérine's blouse was removed to reveal her pale shoulders, then another layer to reveal her thin stomach, until finally her soft, supple breasts were revealed to him. Reverently, the viscount lowered his head to suckle gently on her hardened nipples, spreading rivulets of pleasure through the girl's work-weary body."

As Julie continues to describe the scene, Zara slowly unbuckles and lowers your trousers, stroking your already-hard shaft. Reading from her expression that she wants you to reciprocate, your fingers work her shorts out of the way, allowing you to access her clitoris and sodden pussy. You gently rub each other as Julie continues to describe the undressing scene in excruciating detail, working you up until you're **** for the two of them to finally fuck each other. To your relief, they do.

"Valérine could not suppress a squeak when she felt the viscount's mighty cannon beginning to push into her narrow tunnel. But she knew they had little time before the valet returned, so bit her tongue and grasped the bedsheets as he eased deeper and deeper into her. Once they were finally joined, Alexandre began to thrust in and out of her, setting a gradually increasing rhythm - slow at first, but crescendoing to a deafening pace. For all her discipline, the young maid could not resist the moans that leapt from her mouth, sweet moans of pleasure and deep-hearted satisfaction. They could have been lost in lust for seconds or weeks, but whichever it was, the end came too soon. With a shrill cry of bliss, Valérine felt the tension finally release from within her. Within moments, she heard the viscount’s deep groan, and felt… a glorious… warmth… fill her… inside!”

Zara’s jerking has reached a breakneck speed, and you finally release, imagining yourself as the viscount, with Zara your humble servant gladly taking your load into her pussy. All around the circle, you see girls shuddering, eyes fluttering, as they climax with the story. Zara moans lewdly, collapsing against you, possessively resting a hand on your chest.

The erotic short story itself did not have quite such a happy ending. After their night of lust, the viscount left to get married to the old moneybags, and Valérine’s marriage to the bullish boy followed soon after. They moved apart, and never saw each other again. Yet still there was a spark of light in the young serving maid’s life, for whenever she looked in her handsome son’s face, she saw Alexandre’s eyes looking back at her.

• Zara +5%
• Charm +2%