Club 18-22

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Club 18-22.

“Ola, hello, welcome to club 18 -22, I am Miguel and I am your pimp for the week,” the sun bronzed Spaniard announced as he walked into the girl’s room.

Sandra laughed drunkenly and said, “Oh right, Pimp eh, maybe your English isn’t too brilliant?”

“Pimp, he said Sand!” Irene replied equally drunkenly, “Because if he’s our pimp that makes us.”

“Prossies!” Sandra exclaimed, “Sluts, bring it on!”

“Que?” Miguel replied.

“Boys, bring ’em on, that’s what we came for!” Sandra insisted.

“Boys, men, chop chop,” Irene laughed, “Just a minute I’ll slip into something more comfortable,” and she hoisted her tee shirt over head, “Never seen tits before?” she queried as Miguel stared.

“Call those tits, these are tits,” Sandra declared and she hoisted her tee shirt over her head and popped her DD breasts out of her bra cups, “What’s up Miguel?”

He looked very uncomfortable, “You want fucked?”

“Well we didn’t come for the ballroom dancing!” Irene declared, “Find us some boys!”

“Chop Chop,” said Sandra, “Bollocks, where’s the bog? I got gyp,” and she went off to throw up

It all started nearly two months earlier back in Yorkshire when Irene found a club 19 – 22 leaflet in the College Library, she showed it to Sandra, “Look, a week in the sun for just a hundred and fifty quid,” she laughed.

Sandra looked carefully and spoke her thoughts, “Sun, sex and,”

“Sunburn!” Irene said jokingly, “It has to be better than Skeggy.”

“We’re going to Bridlington, to watch the sunrise.” Sandra said, “Again.”

“Maybe, now we’re eighteen, we could like?” Irene suggested, “In the holidays.”

Irene broached the subject of a week in Spain with club 18-22 when she took Sandra home for tea after before choir practise on Thursday .

“You’re not going,” Mrs Braithwaite told Irene straight out when she asked, “Club 18-30 holidays what ever next!”

“But it’s not our Mam,” Irene insisted, “It’s club 18-22 and its completely different, look there’s phone number and they do mentoring and everyone has to be in their room by eleven at night!”

“And its very reasonable price considering,” Sandra, Irene’s friend from college insisted.

“I wonder how they do it.” Mr Braithwaite said as he looked at the flyer the girls brought round, “You couldn’t have a week in Skeggy for that.”

“It’s cheaper out there Mr Braithwaite,” Sandra explained.

“Well,” Mr Braithwaite agreed, “We’ll sleep on it, see what Albert and Frieda say.”

Sandra stood up to go and Irene followed her, “Our Mam said the same,” Sandra said, “See what Harry and Ethel say, we’ll end up stuck in Filey if we aren’t careful.”

“It wouldn’t be so bad if we didn’t have to borrow the money,” Irene sighed, “We should have saved up.”

“Maybe we could put it on the card?” Sandra said.

“Pay ten per cent interest, I should coco,” she said, “I’ll ring tomorrow and see what they mean by ‘Easy terms.”

Sandra rang the number, “Is that Club 18 – 22?” she asked.

Forty miles away in the garage of a typical English suburban semi detached house Justin and Sebastian were chilling over a game of pool on their miniature pool table.

The phone on the wall rang, Justin answered it “Yes Club 18 -22,” he agreed motioning Sebastian to be quiet, “How may I help?”

“Well we wants to go on trip to Spain next month, but we’re a bit short.” Sandra explained.

“Well, that’s difficult, would ‘we’ be your boyfriend?” he asked.

“No me mate Irene and me,” Sandra said.

“Well perhaps we can do deferred payment but you do need to apply on line, you must have a current Facebook account and a working web cam so we can make sure you sign the online form,” Justin explained, “You need your passport obviously, but log on and send an application and we’ll be in touch.”

Sandra sighed, “OK she agreed uncertainly, “But can’t you tell me the priceover the phone?”

“I’m afraid it’s company policy,” he said, “Everything done digitally so there is no confusion, no argument, just log on, its really very simple,” he explained.

“OK,” Sandra agreed reluctantly.

“I’ll look forward to your application, good bye,” Justin said and hung the phone up, “Minger,” he said to Sebastian, “Yorkshire accent as thick as treacle, yuck.”

“Probably thirty eight, thirty eight, forty two,” Sebastian laughed “Don’t hold your breath.”

Sandra saw Irene in the college refectory, “We have to apply on line,” she said.

“There’s computers in Library,” Irene pointed out.

They went to the Library after class, logging in was simple but the girls struggled
and it was only when the Librarian showed them how to input the web address instead googling it that they got on the club 18-22 site.

They filled in the forms, and pressed “Submit.”

Forty miles away the incoming email pinged loudly, “Oh,” Sebastian acknowledged, “Bingo!”

“Great, no web cam,” Justin sighed sarcastically, “Email her.”

Sandra and Irene switched off the machines and went home so they never found the emails requesting they use the web cams until the next day, and by then Justin and Sebastian had just about agreed that Irene and Sandra were a waste of time.

Irene phoned on her mobile, “Its Irene Braithwaite, I emailed and you wanted to see me on web cam, well its working.” she said.

“Minger alert,” Sebastian mouthed, “OK, yes, right,” he said as he frantically fiddled with the computer, “Oh got you,” he agreed as a slim if slightly top heavy brunette filled the screen.

“Me mate Sandra’s here,” Irene said helpfully as her friend ducked in front of the camera.

“Hi,” Sandra said.

Sebastian grinned as Sandra’s long blonde hair cascaded around her shoulders and her pert boobies bulged unnaturally as she craned around to look into the lens.

“Yes,” Sebastian agreed, “Well that tallies with your Facebook acount, when did you want to go?”

“First week in August?” she suggested.

“Excellent,” he agreed.

“So how much?” Sandra asked.

“How much?” Sebastian replied, “Fifty pounds deposit and the balance by Christmas?”

“I don’t know,” Irene demurred, “Like how much.”

“We have a few spare rooms that week so a hundred and fifty?” he suggested, “Fifty deposit and ten pounds a week.

“You sure?” Sandra asked, “That sounds too cheap.”

“We make money on the food and drink, they aren’t included,” Sebastian lied, “Maybe the boys will buy your drinks.”

“Whooo boys bring them on,” Sandra laughed.

“Sand!” gölcük escort Irene said in mock outrage.

“Good, I’ll send the tickets,” Sebastian agreed, “Probably fly out overnight.”

“From Leeds?” Sandra asked.

“No an airfield,” Sebastian laughed, “Our Minibus will pick you up.”


Irene and Sandra stood outside Woolworth in their anoraks and jeans carrying their backpacks waiting for the Minibus, the town hall clock showed 11.30 like it always did since the clock winder was made redundant and it was actually only 10.32 when the Combined Training Corps minibus loomed out of the shadows.

“Sandra and Irene?” Justin’s girlfriend for the day Sabrina asked, while feeling a fool in her stewardess uniform, “Welcome to Club 18-22!”

They threw their backpacks in the back and joined another half dozen girls in the old Ford Transit van. Justin drove smoothly and carefully so as not to draw attention as didn’t have CTC’s permission, the right licence or any insurance and they were soon on their way to the airfield.

“What about Customs and that?” Sandra asked, as the drove straight past Terminal One and up to an elderly 747 airliner which stood outside the UK Mail building bathed by floodlights.

“Oh, we do that at the Spanish end,” Justin said breezily, “You do have your passports?”

“Yes,” they agreed and they had the novel experience of climbing the stairs to the 747s door only to find the cabin was actually full of containers.

“Passenger accommodation on the top deck,” Sabrina announced, “Help yourself to drinks,” she said pointing to the well stocked bar, “And don’t make too much noise or you’ll wake the pilots.”

“How’s this work then man?” a girl from Newcastle asked.

“Cost cutting, we use spare space on the freighter,” Justin explained as he admired her E cup tits, “Have you joined the mile high club?” he asked.

“Ask us again a bit later,” she replied.

“Where’s the emergency exits and that?” a nervous girl asked.

“Look have a drink, chill,” Justin advised, “Don’t be so negative, but they are at the back OK?”

Sabrina handed round some glasses of 35% proof fruit punch and quite quickly everything became blurred. so much so that Irene and Sandra remembered nothing of their flight, the taxi to the hotel or check in and only woke up the following morning in a strange darkened room illuminated only by the light of a TV screen as the blinds were tightly drawn . They found themselves dressed only in their underwear lying on a queen- size double bed…


Sandra and Irene woke to the sound of urgent knocking on their door, Sandra staggered across and opened it, “Yes?” she said as a sun bronzed Spaniard wearing swimming trunks and a tee shirt stood smiling at her.

“Ola, hello, welcome to club 18 -22, I am Miguel and I am your pimp for the week.”

Sandra looked at the and laughed drunkenly. “Oh right,Pimp eh, maybe your English isn’t too brilliant?”

“Pimp, he said Sand!” Irene replied equally drunkenly, “Because if he’s our pimp that makes us.”

“Prossies!” Sandra exclaimed, “Sluts, bring it on!”

“Que?” Miguel replied.

“Boys, bring ’em on, that’s what we came for!” Sandra insisted.

“Boys, men, chop chop,” Irene laughed, “Just a minute I’ll slip into something more comfortable,” and she hoisted her tee shirt over head, “Never seen tits before?” she queried as Miguel stared.

“Call those tits, these are tits,” Sandra declared and she hoisted her tee shirt over her head and popped her DD breasts out of her bra cups, “What’s up Miguel?”

He looked very uncomfortable, “You want fucked?”

“Well we didn’t come for the ballroom dancing!” Irene declared, “Find us some boys!”

“Chop Chop,” said Sandra, “Bollocks, where’s the bog? I got gyp,” and she looked round helplessly for somewhere to throw up.

“Yes,” he said, “Bog is there,” he said pointing as Sandra rushed away, “You have en suite this room,” he said to Irene, “All very up to date at club 18-22, we have reputation!”

“Right,” Irene said, “No boys after 11 o’clock?”

“Oh no, door is locked after 11, boys can stay!” he said, “It keeps parents happy.”

“Oh, right,” she said, “Where’s the best place to meet boys?”

“Is all right, I bring them,” Miguel explained, “Is part of the service!”

“When’s brekky, I’m starving!” Sandra said as she returned.

“I have the toast and the fruit juices, on my trolley, momento,” he explained and he fetched his trolley, and “Ola!” he removed the cloth with a flourish.

“Oh it’s gorgeous,” Irene announced as she took a sip of 35% proof Orange Juice and Vodka

“MMmm,” Sandra agreed, “Gorgeous!”

“You want fuck now?” Miguel asked.

“Of course we want to fuck, we didn’t come for the ballroom dancing!” Irene chuckled drunkenly as her hand stole to Miguel’s crotch and cheekily twisted his balls.

“Hands off he’s mine!” Sandra said as she pulled her panties down to reveal a neatly trimmed blonde bush.

“I saw him first!” Irene protested.

“Ladies there is plenty for everyone!” Miguel boasted as Irene pulled his swimming trunks off.

“Oh,” Irene gasped as she found a woollen football sock stuffed in Miguel’s trunks, “Maybe not.”

“Momento,” Miguel said anxiously, “I look at porn, then you see.”

“No way shorty, we want a proper man,” Sandra insisted,

“Men,” Irene agreed.

“Want a proper men!” Sandra repeated.

“One minute,” Miguel insisted, “I find you big cocks, promise!” He rushed from the room. locking the door behind him, “Mr Sebastian, they call me ‘Shorty’ the want big cocks!”

“Not a problem, got a couple of Aussies downstairs,” he said and he flicked a button on his phone, “Send them up, room 14.”

“Good day, I’m Bruce and this is my mucker, Stanley.” Bruce announced as Miguel showed him into the apartment.

“Hi Bruce,” Irene said, “You got what it takes?” she asked as she stared at him.

He stared back, her tits were out of her bra cups and she had the gusset of her panties pulled aside and was was gently wanking herself, “Only shorty here came up short.”

“We aim to please,” Stanley explained as he unzipped to show ten full inches if man meat, “You never seen nothing like fourteen inches before.”

“It’ll do me,” Sandra agreed.

“Cause that’s nothing like fourteen,” Bruce said automatically before he did a double take, “What?”

“Do me,” said Sandra, “What gebze escort you waiting for big man, do me!”

“No me first,” Irene said urgently, “I’m ready.”

“You still got your knickers on,” Sandra countered, “Do me.”

“One at a time ladies,” Bruce insisted, “Now who wants Grosser Knackwurst?” he asked as he unzipped to show his monster cock, not quite ten inches but bigger round than most girls fists.

“I go, you knock,” Miguel insisted.

“Ohhhh, that’s too much!” Sandra gulped.

“You know what they say Sand,” Irene gasped, “Too much of a good thing is wonderful! come here big boy!”

Bruce stepped forward and knelt down in front of Irene, “Where’s the condies ladies?” he asked

A key rattled, the door opened, Miguel stood there apologetically, “Sorry, I forgot, here is box of hundred, you tell when want more, is enough for now.”

“You got large?” Bruce asked.

“Is none your business,” Miguel retorted.

“Condies, large XL comprendi?” Stanley explained as he grabbed the plain unbranded box and pulled out a foil pack, “Oh they’re Mates, they’re fine, I can’t fit in a durex.”

“It’s all right for you!” Bruce complained as Stan chucked him a condom, “Yours is like a pipe cleaner!”

“Oi, don’t listen at the keyhole,” Sandra advised, “Dirty bugger!”

“It fits!” Irene exclaimed as she triumphantly peeled the condom down over Bruce’s straining shaft, “Stick it in me big boy.”

“Uhhhh,” Sandra sighed as Stan eased his length up her sopping hole, “Oh that’s so good, like a pint of Tetleys that.”

“Amber nectar English style,” Bruce confirmed, “Christ you’re bloody tight Sheila.”

“Try again,” Irene suggested.

“Bloody relax,” Bruce prompted, “Jesus its like trying to screw a keyhole.”

“So suck me tits or something,” Irene suggested, “I’m a woman not a blow up doll.”

“Jesus,” Bruce sighed, “Hey Stan can I have a poke at your’s?”

“Yeah, swapsies, why not?” Stanley confirmed as he humped away at Sandra’s ever loosening fuck hole, “Ready, three, two, one.”

Stanley pulled out of Sandra with an audible ‘plop’ “Hey,” she cried, “Don’t I get a say in this?”

“No,” said Stan and Bruce together as they changed places.

“Ohhhh fuck that’s too too big!” Sandra cooed, “Oh fucking jesus!” she exclaimed as the sheer size of Bruce’s cock overwhelmed her.

“Oh thats nice,” Irene exclaimed as Stanley slid his cock easily where Bruce’s had been too fat to go.

“Nice and tight like a Roo’s arse,” Stanley joked, “Hey I’m only joking,” he said, “I never poked a Roo’s arse in me life, never poked a Roo at all come to think of it.”

“Oh Bruce, that’s wonderful,” Sandra insisted.

“Oh Stan, that’s perfect.” Irene replied.

“Oh Bruce that’s better than perfect,” Sandra suggested.

“If we wanted marks out if ten we’d have gone on Australia’s got talent, put a sock in it the pair of you.” Stanley suggested.

“Couple of gasps wouldn’t hurt but,” Bruce added, “Maybe fake an O or something.”

“Fake one, gee I reckon I just had one,” Sandra insisted, “Come on cowboy ride me.”

“Wrong continent Sand,” Irene insisted before the waves of impending orgasm swept over her and her mind dissolved like surf crashing on the rocks.

“Right, better get some Tinnies in.” Stan said a while later as he wiped his cock and zippered up his pants, “See you round maybe?”

“Later?” Irene queried.

“Yeah maybe,” Stan replied, “Too ra loo.”

“Oh,” Irene exclaimed as they shut the door, “Right, no bloody box of roses then.”

Miguel knocked, “I have your lunch Misses,” he said as he eased the door open, “Just a light lunch, you like?”

“Salad,” Irene said disappointedly, “What do you think we are Rabbits?”

“You were bonking like one!” Sandra exclaimed.

“And after I have gentlemen to meet you,” Miguel exclaimed.

Sandra took a few leaves and a tomato and sat on the bed munching away while taking sips of Orange juice.

“It’s not bad for rabbit food,” Irene commented as she munched lettuce washed down with 35% proof Vodka and Orange juice.

Miguel returned a few minutes later, “You wanted to meet more boys yes?” he asked.

“On the beach maybe,” Sandra admitted as she tried to stand up, failed and sprawled across the bed again.

“I have Mr John Smith and his brother to meet you,” he said.

John stepped smartly into the apartment, “Charmed I’m sure,” he said, “Don’t waste much time eh!” he said as he admired Sandra’s bare tits.

“No, is best not waste time time is money,” Miguel agreed.

“I’ll hang my jacket in the wardrobe if that’s all right,” John said, “You’ve met my brother John I take it?”

“John’s brother, John?” Irene asked, “That’s weird.”

“Hi, I’m John,” John said as he came in, “That’s Mike my brother.”

“John’s brother John is called Mike?” Sandra queried.

“It makes sense,” Irene agreed drunkenly as she watched the Johns take off their jackets and hang them neatly before slipping their shoes and socks off and systematically undressing.

“You prossie strippers or something, only you’re all synchronised or whatever?” Irene queried.

“Sas,” John replied, “Sturrock Andersson Sturock solicitors!” he joked, “So which one of you lovelies is giving me a blow job.”

“Neither we want you cock inside us!” Sandra insisted.

“We came to get fucked,” Irene explained.

“Sea Sand and fucked,” Sandra added.

“Right?” John exclaimed in mild confusion, “Eenie Meenie Miney, Mo,” and by that time his brother John who was Mike really had Sandra pressed firmly against the en suite door post as he fumbled with a reluctant Mates condom as he tried to roll it on inside out.

“For fucks sake stick the bastard in me,” Sandra said seductively in her best Yorkshire accent as the other John rolled his condom neatly onto his shaft while gazing into Irene’s rather bleary brown eyes while trying to avoid the alcoholic fumes she expelled with every breath.

“Oooohhh that’s champion,” Irene agreed as John eased his cock between her eager cunt lips, “Squeeze me tits or something can’t you.”

“It’s all right for you, you got the bed,” Sandra complained, “You, Oooooh, want to, Agghhh, Oooohh that’s nice,” she said and she forgot about complaining and decided to enjoy her holiday instead.

John and John stayed a while, they put channel 4 (Horse) racing on the TV which surprised Irene as she never realised they could get UK channel 4 in Spain.

The 4.30 from Kempton Park darıca escort bayan provided the perfect build up to renewed love making, with John fucking Irene while John fucked Sandra, at least that’s what Sandra thought at the time.

John threw his used condom in the waste paper bin, combed his hair and pulled on his socks, “I’ll look you up again,” he lied as he continued to dress, and then he was immaculate as before, “Right back to the office and head for home!” he exclaimed, “Bye!”

Miguel brought food as soon as the Johns left, “Is good yes, Fish and Chip?”

“Might as well have gone to Skeggy,” Sandra admitted.

“I have the fancy dress and toys for you,” Miguel announced, “See,” and he held up two sexy waitress uniforms and a double ended dildo.

It was just before nine when Miguel woke Sandra and Irene. They had managed to fall asleep on the bathroom floor with the double ended dildo still inside themselves after drinking far more delicious complimentary 35% proof Orange juice and Vodka than was wise.

Even the vinegar on the Fish and Chip was 35% proof as was the salad dressing they ate previously.

“Come, is party, have fun!” he said.

The girls struggled into their maids outfits, they seemed rather tight and showed their tits and vaginas but Miguel said not to worry, so they didn’t.

Darkness had fallen as he led them downstairs to the function room, “Would you mind serve drinks, keep in character.”

“What character?” Sandra asked.

“A sexy maid of course!” Irene observed, “Where’s some cock?”

They were surprised that everyone had a Yorkshire accent except Sebastian and Justin who talked ‘like that prat Cameron off of the Telly,’ as Irene observed. and that boys, or rather men, outnumbered girls about six to one.

Sandra looked round, there was a dining table, with a girl lying on her back, legs spread wide as a man dressed only in a shirt energetically screwed her. There was a pool table with a girl lying on her back, legs spread wide as a man dressed in only a leather jacket screwed her, there was a couch where a girl perched awkwardly knees spread wide as a man dressed in a business suit with his trousers down gently screwed her.

“Fucking hell it’s a knocking shop!” Sandra observed.

“Bring it on, they’re gorgeous, who’s next?” Irene observed through alcohol clouded judgement.

“We are,” Thomas and Gerald announced, “We do everything together.” Irene looked at the two lads wearing only Tee shirts with ‘Grimethorpe Colliery,’ in white lettering on black as they ogled her, their cocks already condom clad while Gerald carried a bottle of red lube.

“Including fuck, but not each other, always a girl.” they explained.

“Look, I’ve never done anal,” Irene admitted.

“Except with that Butt plug,” Sandra teased, “You should have seen her, the things she’d do for a Ten quid bet!”

“All right,” Irene agreed don’t be so,” but Tom and Gerry were surrounding her, bending her back for Tom to enter her vagina and then forward for Gerry to force his well lubed erection into her tight unyielding anus.

“God she tight!” Gerry complained.

“Aggghh!” Irene protested and then suddenly with a blinding pain he was inside her.

Pain melded to pleasure as the full joy of two cocks filing her seeped through her drunken consciousness as she raised her legs and wrapped them around Tom for maximum pleasure as they moved slowly around the room while double fucking her.

Sandra meanwhile was serving drinks, “Get that down thee cock,” she suggested to a middle aged greying chap wearing a green cardigan and little else.

“I’d rather cock you,” he said diffidently.

“So what you waiting for, me mate’s doing two at a time I got catching up to do,” Sandra explained, and when he reached for a condom she protested, “We don’t have time for that do me!big boy!”

Sandra dragged the man to the floor and tried to spear herself on his slightly soft erection.

Her actions were not unnoticed and a small crowd formed as she struggled to persuade his somewhat limp dick to enter her, not all were impressed as Justin and Sebastian were about to discover.

“For gods sake Sebastian,” Algy Basset-Fosdyke his fag from Eton interjected, “No condie, that’s not on old chap, not on at all!”

“No, sorry old chap, can’t get the staff, I’ll warn her.” Sebastian agreed.

“Don’t warn her sack her old chap, don’t want Aids eh what, do we?” Algy insisted.

“No, you’re right,” he agreed and with Justin’s help he lifted a protesting Sandra off her now extremely embarrassed lover.

“Take her to her room!” Justin hissed.

“Not without me mate,” Sandra insisted, “Who’s up for an all nighter?”

Alan and Tom from Pontefract stepped forward, “You want company?” Al asked.

“I want a stiff cock,” Sandra explained.

“Oi, whats your game,” Irene protested when Justin tapped her on the shoulder and politely explained she would have to leave, “They’re kicking us out,” she explained to Tom and Gerald as they changed ends.

“Then we’re going too!” they insisted.

The girls room seemed very cramped with four men and two girls, the men took turns with the girls and watched TV between times until at some stage they had Miguel let them out.

Sandra and Irene had long since drifted off into a contented sleep, their pussies throbbing and anus’ sore from the days activities.

The girls woke eventually, people were looking at them, flights were being announced, they were lying on a luggage trolley at Manchester Airport and as they told the policeman who woke them and then arrested them for being drunk in a public place they had no idea how they got there.

They could have checked the CCTV and seen Justin and Miguel carry them in but they accepted a caution and that was the end of it.

Equally mysterious were the refund checks in their handbags from Club 18-22 and a letter confirming they had been too drunk to fly and were requested not to apply for club 18-22 holidays ever again.

“How are we going to explain to our parents?” Sandra asked as she fumbled with her belongings as the police let her out of the cell as she sobered up.

She found an extra hundred pounds she didn’t remember having in her purse and found Irene had the same.

“What are we going to do?” Irene asked as memories came flooding back, “Oh god, we never got to Spain did we?” she asked, “I brought Dads passport by mistake!”

“Best thing,” Sandra suggested, “Get a bus to Blackpool and find a couple of fit lads that can give us a bed for the night.”

“Genius!” Irene agreed, “Where’s the bar I need a drink!”

To be continued?

This is a work of fiction, (honest,) and all firms, corporations and character’s except Cameron are entirely fictitious.

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