Member of the Club

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

By the time January was chilling me to the bone, I’d forgotten about my fantasies of the club. In December, I dove into a s****l affair with a former boyfriend, so easy to get caught up in the holiday charm of a romantic interlude. But by the end of the season the excitement was over and I was alone and without a s****l outlet as another year began.

My fires still burned for something new, and I had a premonition that something unusual would come my way to satisfy the burning need; though I had no clue what that something unusual would be. I’d given up thinking of the club – it seemed a waste of time when there was no way to create the vision my mind dwelt on so lustily.

At least that’s what I thought until the first of February, when the first anonymous note arrived.

Whoever had planted the message between file folders on my desk knew I would be going through them after lunch. When I pulled out the stack of my afternoon work, a pink slip of paper twice folded dropped out on my desk. I might have ignored it altogether, except that its appearance was totally out of context next to the other papers that were there. I stared at it a moment curiously, then picked it up, unfolded its sharp creases and read what it had to say.

The message took me by surprise.

“What would it feel like to sit bare-assed on your chair all day?”

My heart skipped anxiously several times. Who the hell had put it there, I wondered? Some ridiculous office boy perhaps? Someone trying to get a cheap thrill by watching my shocked expression? I looked around for a culprit, but found no one eyeing me. Was Joanna playing a joke on me? That wasn’t possible, she’d been gone all day on business.

Tearing the note in several pieces, I swept it with my hand into the wastebasket and forgot I’d ever seen it until several days later when a second note appeared, similarly located in an obvious place. I found this one first thing in the morning just after I arrived for work.

Unfolding the pink paper, I read a message as provocative as the first one had been.

“And what about unknown hands caressing your body while you lie back blindfolded?”

My secret messenger certainly had a way with words! I didn’t know whether to be scared or thrilled. Actually I couldn’t help the thrill; both times my body heat shot straight up when I read the notes. Again, however, I carefully discarded the piece of paper, sure that this was just some schoolboy prank. Probably that new fellow in the mailroom with the gawking expression on his face every time he passed my desk and ogled my t**s.

My theory as to the author of these notes changed, however, when a third message came a week later, giving me reason to ponder all three notes in light of the rumored club.

“What would it mean to you to keep receiving these messages? What would it mean to play secret games with us?”

I pressed my hand to my face in wonder. Gazed around the room to see if anyone was watching me. No one seemed to care about my predicament, and no one seemed to notice my nervous expression.

This was no casual thing! Someone was deliberately toying with me. Could it be one of the silly men in the office? Could it be a raging psychopath? Or... could it be a member of the club? I loved the third possibility, though it still seemed so unlikely. Unlike the first two notes, the third went into my purse, tucked inside the zipper pocket, folded as neatly as it had been when I received it.

At lunch that day, I pulled out the message and tossed it on the table in front of Joanna.

“I can’t keep this to myself any longer,” I said, “What do you think? This isn’t the first one, I destroyed the others, but they were very provocative.”

She opened the folded paper and read the odd message. “Oh my! You have an admirer.”

“Or could it be something else?” I replied with suggestion in my voice. “Well what do you think?”

She looked up at me with the most earnest expression, eyes dripping with interest.

“I don’t know.” I blushed. “They certainly turn me on, but I would like to know who they’re from. I’m not so sure they’re harmless.”

“Oh, I think it’s just someone in the office playing with you,” she said to comfort me.

“You think so?” My curiosity had peaked. The club was again on my mind, with a dash of reality thrown in to make my loins fiery and my imagination fertile for all kinds of possibilities from kinky to dangerous. “I thought maybe I should bring this up with the personnel office, it could be some lunatic.” I was scared to mention the club, afraid she’d think I was foolish.

“I’d wait,” she advised me.

“Why’s that?” I wanted to reply, but someone stopped by the table and began a conversation with Joanna. I had to get back to my desk and meetings the rest of the day prevented me from pressing her further.

A week passed. There were no new messages. A second week and still none. I quit rushing in each morning to look for a pink paper on my desk. Must be just a passing fancy of some unknown man; he’d had his fun and was on to other things. Even so, I missed the notes, they’d been an exciting diversion.

Three weeks later, I was visited again. Returning from lunch, I reached into the box at the side of my desk pulling out an inner office envelope I expected to contain a department communication. To my surprise, I found a white typed memo with no sender’s name at the top, though mine was clearly typed in the appropriate space.

“To: Kate”

A cold shiver ran from my neck to my toes.

“Tomorrow wear your widest skirt, no underwear. Spend the day with your naked bottom on your desk chair. Remember how it feels.”

My heart raced wildly. Who the hell?

I crumpled the paper and pushed it into my purse as my boss approached my desk.

At break, I grabbed Joanna and shoved her aside to show her my find.

“It’s happening again,” I exclaimed.

I watched excitedly as her eyes perused the note. “Ooo, this is hot!” She looked up at me deliciously involved. “What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know.” I looked at her hoping she’d have an answer.

“Well does it turn you on?” she asked.

“You know it does,” I whispered quietly, as I remembered where we were, not far from the typing pool, too close for candid conversations.

“Then why not?” she replied almost whimsically. “Who would it hurt?”

“Didn’t you caution me about the dangers of my fantasies? This is real, Jo!”

She considered my question for a moment, then tossed her head back in a way that always got my attention. “If I were you, I’d play along, as long as it feels right. You want the unusual, it would be a shame to cut off the titillation when it could be exactly what you’ve been wanting.”

She made sense. There was no denying the feelings it roused in my s*x starved body. And, after all, who would know but my best friend and me?

In my bedroom that night, I took out the memo and read it again. Putting it beside me on the bed I laid back against the pillow. I was wearing nothing but a blue silk teddy, my n*****s peeking through the lace. I had just painted my toenails a shocking shade of crimson; and they looked as naughty as my thoughts. As I waited for the polish to dry, I considered what I’d do the next day.

Every time I thought of the instructions in the note, my body answered wildly. If I only knew who was behind the messages I might be less afraid. Yet, at the moment, my fears didn’t matter as much as the pangs of heat that raged through my thighs and cunt. I saw myself playing out the instructions. I knew exactly which skirt I’d wear – the blue one that hung down to my calves, and clung seductively to my hips. Its thin flimsy fabric was nearly transparent.

I imagined the feel of my thighs against my thighs with nothing between them, the feel of my soft hairs against the soft cloth, and the tickle of the rough chair seat against my p***y lips. Oh, my gawd, what delight!

And I imagined the nasty idea of sitting primly all day in my office, with my ass to the chair, feeling each movement I made while a whirlwind of activity proceeded around me – no one having a clue about my secret. I knew it would be hard to keep my hands from playing with myself, just as I could not keep them from my crotch as the scene raced through my head.

All the feelings centered in that place between my legs; they began and ended there, even though they radiated to every inch of my body. I pushed aside the tiny strip of lace that covered my lower lips, and my body quivered, hips undulating against the bed. The muscles in my thighs contracted and relaxed as I pleasured myself. The m**********n came so easily. As I rubbed the wet folds, the instructions moved me on, taking hold in my s****l psyche so intensely I couldn’t deny their power over me. I rubbed frantically, fingers playing with my tender clit and the moist hole of my cunt. I moved toward a fine edge, keeping myself there for several seconds, but the desire was too strong to hold off for long. The orgasmic wave came crashing down, not gently but like the ocean on a stormy night. I jerked against my hand allowing the fury to consume me completely.

The m**********n was over so quickly that I lay back stunned. Lying back against the sheets, I let the soft satin cool my sweaty flesh.

My body had spoken with its message crystal clear. I was obsessed. Whoever sent these notes demanded my attention. Despite my fears, I’d play their game. I’d allow the passion its due course. Why would I want to deny myself the possibility of experiencing my fantasies come to life?

I knew what to do – at least how I’d respond to the anonymous command.