I'd heard about Elite Swingers from a friend of mine at university. Her application had been refused, but the second time, she'd upped her game and submitted a bizarre sexual fantasy that involved group water sports, a glass coffee table, being restrained, and hung upside down.

Rebecca is competitive and doesn't take rejection lightly. Her ploy to be as extreme as possible worked — she was invited. She still talks about that evening to this day. Some people love to regale their tales at dinner parties and vomit them forth whether you want to listen or not.  Rebecca doesn't have a catalogue of them; she isn't that boring. She has the one — about the elite swinger's party.

What struck me about her story was that she was only twenty-one at the time, but she couldn't stop talking about this Millington guy who had organised it all. He was old enough to be her grandfather, but she was totally besotted. She said she'd never met anyone so charismatic.

Her story intrigued me, and I decided I would apply when the window opened again. However, I missed the next one due to my finals, so I added the date for the following applications to my phone.

On the application form, having given your credentials and uploaded a photograph, you were invited to share your fantasy. I'm not a fantasist, per se. I don't make things up in my mind to satisfy myself with an earth-shattering orgasm. I prefer to scroll through my own personal sexual experiences.

So, I had a problem when applying. What personal sexual experience should I share? Which one would guarantee an invite from the enigmatic Millington Chase? Of all my sexual exploits, there is one that is guaranteed to make me climax. If it makes me cum, then surely it would do something for Mr Chase? That's what I figured, anyway.

What I've always liked about this particular exploit is that I come from a very prim and proper middle-class background. My parents are practising Catholics and have always expected me to go to church every Sunday religiously, pardon the pun. They'd never left me alone in the house and always kept a tight rein on me in terms of curfews and, basically, how I lived my life.

However, even they knew they couldn't do that forever. Despite all their reservations regarding 'this world', they would have to let the horse out of the stable, particularly when my piano teacher told them I had a natural talent and, at nineteen, I should be allowed to spread my wings.

I think Gerald, my piano teacher, secretly wanted me to spread my legs. Still, I quickly dampened that squib when I threw him a look of distaste one lesson when his hand crept across the piano seat and onto my thigh. But talking about Gerald makes me feel sick, and I'm digressing from my story.

Gerald inadvertently played a role in the exploit that I shared with Millington Chase, an experience that, I've just found out, has secured me an invitation to his famous annual party. Yippee. Sorry, I got a bit carried away there, but to say I'm chuffed is an understatement; back to my story.

After Gerald had somehow convinced my parents that I was a trustworthy, talented, good, all-round wholesome girl, they were persuaded to leave me alone in the house whilst they made their annual trek to Lourdes. In their eyes, I was nineteen years old going on twelve, but Gerald convinced them that I would be fine.

I think Gerald thought he would be the one to keep an eye on me, but I soon put paid to that notion.

Having the house to myself was so liberating; I took to walking around naked, imagining the neighbour at the back of us was doing a little peeping. For me, it was such a perverse thought, but the more liberated I felt, the wilder my thought processes became.

I decided to take full advantage of an empty house and did what any newly free-spirited nineteen-year-old would do; I organised a party!

I remember spending an inordinate amount of time shopping for nibbles and ensuring that I had every drink imaginable at home. I also went slightly OCD on tidying up because, being creative, my parents weren't big on being tidy.

I loved tidying up naked, like cleaning up my Catholic parent's mess in such a state was one more step on my ladder of rebellion.

Everyone turned up from uni, of course. By eight o'clock, the house was packed, and by eleven, we were all so drunk, but I was on my liberation gig.

I don't even know what possessed me to do it, but I decided to go into the room that housed my precious piano, and I started playing. My playing rode over the sound of the music that my guests were dancing to, and suddenly, it felt like my party had come to an unceremonious halt.

A few guys entered the room and stood against the wall, their heads nodding in appreciation as they sipped their beers while watching me. A couple of them I'd always fancied; the other three, to me, were just spectators there for the ride.

It was the power of the piano or the fact that I'd been able to entice them away from the central part of the party that turned me on. Still, suddenly, through the strains of Beethoven, I felt a compulsion to undress. I wanted to feel the vibes and totally shock the lot of them.

I stopped playing and undressed slowly, enjoying the look of utter shock on their faces as I dropped my clothes and took off my underwear before sitting at the piano, totally naked.

Even though I didn't make eye contact, I felt their gazes roaming my body. I imagined them looking at my breasts and appraising my nipples as they hardened under the sheer thrill of what I was doing.

I played the piano, and I imagined their cocks getting hard as they wondered what had happened to shy Kate, Catholic Kate. Then a stunning thought entered my head: they'd give anything to fuck me. I stepped up the crescendo of Beethoven and allowed myself to play the tune with the intensity and horny abandon I was feeling.

The louder I played, the more I thought that I wanted these guys. I wanted each and every one of them to enter me and fuck me as I played with them all, abandoning my piano playing.

I looked over at Aaron, a student who had fucked his way through my course in the first semester. Aaron, with ebony curls, cut-glass cheekbones, startling eyes, and a toned body. A fuck walking around on athletic legs. A guy confident in the fact that, even if his personality was average, his sexual prowess wasn't.

Despite his lack of intelligence, I wanted him to come over and feel my tits as I played. I wanted to feel his mouth on my neck, his fingers teasing my nipples. All it took was eye contact and a lick of my lips, and, right on cue, Aaron came over.

Standing behind me, Aaron moved my hair to one side and kissed my neck. Light, feathery kisses at first, followed by a deep suck, his tongue trailing down my neck as he played with my nipples. I heard myself gasp, and my pussy contracted with desire at his touch. I quietened down my piano playing so he could listen to what I was saying.

'Fuck me hard,' I told him and looked across the room at his friends. 'I want each and every one of you, one after the other. I want my pussy filled with cum.'

I don't know what gave me the biggest thrill. The fact that I really wanted to be fucked senseless or the look of shock on my audience's faces. A shock bore from the fact that my prim and proper façade had slipped.

Of course, Aaron fucked me first. He pulled me off the chair and bent me over, his hands roaming all over my body before his hands slipped between my legs, rubbing my pussy lightly before he spread me wide and pushed his cock inside. I looked across the room and saw the other guys rubbing their cocks through their jeans before unzipping. The thought of them getting hard watching me being fucked, brought me to orgasm.

The sound of my moans and my announcement that I was coming was too much for Aaron. He gathered pace and shot his hot cum inside me. I waited for Aaron to collect himself and remove his damp, limp cock.

I stayed bent over and beckoned to the group of guys who were slowly stroking their cocks. I made them line up and took each one in my mouth one by one. I loved the taste of pre-cum, and all I wanted was my mouth to be filled with cum, and my face and tits covered with the sticky, warm stuff. And that's precisely what happened.

I let each of them fuck me, but I chose who was going to come where. I lay on top of my piano. The family portrait gazing down at me gave me an extra thrill. This was the experience I shared with Millington Chase, and it quite clearly impressed him.

Now, I must decide what to wear for what I hope will be the best party ever! Elite Swingers, here I come.