Club Deep: The Complete Series

by Wylder, Penny

  My orgasm rises quickly, hot and insistent, pulsing in time with his tongue, pushing bursts of pleasure through my nerves. I brace myself against his shoulders, muscles shaking, unable to fight that sweet pleasure flowing through me. And then suddenly, his mouth is gone, and I open my eyes to see Julian looking up at me, a wicked smirk on his face. His mouth is still so close, and I can feel his breath on me, making me squirm, trying to make him touch me again. It only makes his smirk deepen, his hands like iron on my thighs, keeping us so close, barely separated.

  “Beg me,” he says.

  “What?”

  “Beg me to make you come. Beg me to put my tongue inside that sweet pussy of yours. Beg me to suck on your clit until you scream.”

  His words light a fire in me, and a flush rolls across my body. I want him to do those things, but I’m not used to them being stated so bluntly. I’m not used to saying things like that out loud. Julian blows gently on my clit, the stream of air sending a shudder of pleasure through me. I know he’s not going to move until I ask. He told me I would beg. “Please,” I say, my voice barely more than breath. “Please touch me. Please put your mouth on me.”

  With a sound like he’s found the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, he does. Pleasure explodes behind my eyes and inside my body as I come. My body can’t resist the onslaught of his tongue as he fucks me with it, pushing inside and licking, moving to suck my clit deep and then back again. Wetness rushes from me and he drinks me in, wave after wave of pleasure rising from his mouth because he doesn’t stop. I close my eyes, blind to everything but this glorious sensation. My knees finally collapse, and he holds me up while his mouth is still tasting me. His tongue is swirling over my clit and sending sparks of pleasure through me until he’s satisfied, and so am I.

  Julian leans me against the wall and makes sure I’ll stay upright while he stands, and watches me while he undoes his belt. What I felt while we were dancing wasn’t a lie—he’s huge. It’s the thickest cock I’ve ever seen, and I highly, highly, doubt that’s going to fit inside me, and I say as much, which only makes him grin.

  He turns me around so I’m facing the wall. The cement is cool against my breasts, contrasting with Julian’s heat against my back. “Don’t worry,” he says, voice at my ear. “I’ll go slow.”

  I hear the tearing of a condom wrapper, and then his hand is between my legs, stroking me. I’ve barely recovered from him using his mouth on me and I moan as he pushes a finger inside. “You’re still so wet,” he says, bringing that same finger around to my mouth. “Taste yourself the way I tasted you.”

  Opening my mouth, he pushes his finger inside, and I do taste myself, deep and sweet on his skin. It makes me even wetter, and when he starts to finger me again he chuckles. “I thought you might like that.” Julian presses his lips to the back of my neck, and adds another finger in my cunt. “I love how tight you are around my fingers,” he says, pushing deep. “You’re going to feel so good on my cock.”

  I moan, leaning back against him. God, he feels so good, knows exactly what I need, what he needs to say to make me hotter, wetter. He adds a third finger, starting to really fuck me with his hand, and I claw against the wall, looking for something to hold onto. He’s pushing his fingers right into my G-spot, and I swear this is what people mean when they say they’re seeing stars. Every thrust of his hand is sending me reeling with pleasure, more pleasure than I thought possible because I’ve already come. In the past, I’ve been lucky to come once before the guy makes sure they get off. This is…something else entirely.

  I’m close, so close, and I tell him that, my pleas for him not to stop echoing down the hallway. And just like before, right as I’m about to go over the edge, he stops. I groan in frustration and he laughs. “I want you to come, little dancer, but I want you to come on my cock, not my hand.”

  His fingers slip out of me, leaving me feeling empty, and then I feel him. The fat head of his cock presses against my entrance, bigger than anything I’ve ever felt. Julian eases the head inside me, and already my breath goes short. I’ve never taken anything like this. He presses deeper, an inch at a time, slowly filling me up until I don’t think I can take anymore. But I do. My pussy contracts around him, and he growls in my ear.

  I’ve never felt so full, so possessed. My whole body is tight and aroused, and trying to get used to the way he’s inside me, and just like he did when we were dancing he wraps himself around me. One hand squeezes my breasts, rolling them until my nipples are hard again. The other wanders down my stomach until he finds my clit, forcing more and more pleasure through me until I relax onto him, until my hips are moving, begging for more. Julian moves his hips, out and in, and it’s like the world moves. His cock drags against me, and I’m quivering with the feeling of it, friction spiraling to where his fingers are on my clit and back again.

  He moves again, thrusting a little harder and we groan together. “You feel so good, baby.” His voice is rough, and I believe him.

  My pussy spasms around him again and he pushes harder in response. “You want to be fucked, don’t you?” he asks, even though he already knows the answer. “You want me to do exactly what I said, and bury myself balls deep in your pussy. So deep that you’ll never forget it.”

  “Yes,” I breathe. “Yes. I want that.”

  Julian presses me against the wall, and thrusts all the way into me, and I come instantly. A wall of white heat washing over my body and I cry out, unable to keep quiet in the wake of this feeling. He fucks me like I’ve never been fucked before, every thrust of his cock a brand new wave of pleasure, each one different and better than before. I’m utterly lost in the sensation. Nothing exists except for this, floating on a white sea of pleasure, cresting waves of orgasm after orgasm as Julian’s cock drives into my G-spot and deeper.

  He pauses for just a second, turning me back around to face him before plunging in again, lifting my legs around his hips. This feels far more intimate, and somehow, impossibly, I feel even more full. He fucks me into the wall, and all I can do is hold onto him—his shoulders, his neck, his hair. I don’t stop coming, I can’t stop, and I can barely breathe because too much of me is taken over by this pleasure.

  Julian’s voice comes to life as he fucks me harder, his grunts resonating through my chest and making me that much wetter. He’s close, and I’m already there, have been there this whole time. Suddenly he fucks me faster, a burst of furious speed that makes me hold my breath, fall into this bright supernova of orgasm one last time while he shouts his own finish. Julian’s cock pulses inside me, and I savor the sensation of feeling him come inside me. My mind is dizzy from pleasure, and even if he puts me down, I don’t know if I’d be able to stand.

  But he doesn’t. He holds me there, still deep inside me as we both catch our breath, both come back to earth. Because I don’t think sex like that can exist on earth. Fuck. I was right, I’m not going to regret that. But part of me knows that I’m also going to regret it if I never get to do that again either.

  Julian’s forehead rests against mine, our breath mingling as we both come down from the high. Wow. I don’t remember any sex in my life that was like that. Granted, I don’t have the widest range of experiences to choose from, but that still blows them all away by far. I smile, laughing a little, and he smiles too.

  “Feel different?” he asks.

  “Yes.” Because it’s true. Tonight I did something daring that I wouldn’t normally ever do. I danced at a sex club. I fucked a virtual stranger. I was confident and sexy and bold.

  I collect my clothes and start to put them on, still weak in the knees. And it feels strange, after what just happened, to be in the same space with him and be clothed. Like now that we’ve seen all of each other we no longer need them. But the rest of the world—even if that doesn’t include the patrons of Club Deep—would be shocked to see me without my clothes. I have my pants on when Julian finally speaks again. “Take the job.”

  “What?”

&n
bsp; “Here, at the club,” he says. He’s almost dressed again and his face is deadly serious. “Be a dancer.”

  I shake my head. “I already have a job.”

  “Then quit.”

  It’s tempting. Given how much fun I had, and the fact that Julian will be here, but this wasn’t my thing. This was Cosette’s idea, and I she didn’t exactly sound enthused when I was offered the job. She’s had so much trouble finding work, I can’t just swoop in and also have a job she’s worked hard for. “I can’t,” I say, slipping my top back on.

  He grabs me around the waist, pulling me to his body. “What will it take?”

  “What does it matter?” I say. “I don’t have to work here for you to see me again, you know.” I’m floating the idea of seeing him again to see if he takes it, and to see what his real motives are in wanting me to work for him.

  “I won’t say that I don’t have at least some ulterior motives,” Juliann grins. “But you’re talented. We’ve found that dancers really boost the atmosphere in the club. The better dancers we have, the more fun people have, and the more money they spend. I want you working in my club because I think you’re one hell of a dancer, and I think it’s a good business decision.”

  I bite my lip, thinking about it. I already told Cosette I wouldn’t take it. How can I now go back and tell her that because I fucked the owner of the club I’m taking the job? I can’t. I shake my head again. “I’m sorry.”

  He’s silent for a moment. “Two hundred thousand.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “Your salary. Here.”

  My jaw drops open? “Are you serious? That’s insane.”

  “I’m willing to do it. If you take the job.”

  “You have that kind of money to throw at a dancer?”

  He smirks. “Do you want it?”

  With that kind of money, I could pay off all of my student debt in a year. I could move into a better apartment. I could stop worrying about whether or not I’m going to overdraw my bank account. “Okay.”

  His smile is blazing, and I know that it’s because he won. “Perfect. And as for seeing you again, that’s an absolute yes.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket, “Let me have your number.”

  I do, though I’m being distracted by the way he’s letting his fingers wander across my skin. The feelings he’s arousing make me want more, make me want to drag him out of this club and back to my dumpy apartment where he can be mine for hours. I hand the phone back to him. “Perfect.” He leads me back into the club, the music suddenly loud and piercing compared to the intimate silence beyond those doors. Julian leans down and gives me a long lingering kiss. It reaches down and stirs something in my chest and something much hotter down below. “I’ll see you soon,” he says, pulling away gently and heading downstairs.

  I lean against the wall, catching my breath. I feel like I’ve been through a whirlwind, and in a way I suppose that I have. I head down the stairs, and as soon as I reach the bottom, Cosette practically tackles me from behind. “I’ve been looking all over for you! Where were you?”

  Not fucking the boss. “Just wandering,” I say. “Have you seen this place? It’s insane!”

  Cosette beams. “It’s amazing. I’m so excited, I start tomorrow!”

  “Yeah,” I say, a flush burning across my cheeks. “So do I.”

  “What?” Her face falls, and then looks confused.

  Anxiety swirls in my gut. I want her to be okay with it, I want her to be happy with this. I shrug, trying to play it off like no big deal. “I changed my mind. After seeing how great everything was, and having so much fun dancing with you, I didn’t want to miss out. I have to come in early tomorrow to do my paperwork.” Or at least I hope I do. I didn’t exactly talk over those kinds of details with Julian.

  “That’s great,” Cosette says with a smile that’s overly bright. “It’ll be really fun to work together—to dance together again.”

  “I hope so,” I say softly. I really do. I think that this could really be good for both of us. “Do you want to hang out here or are you ready to leave?”

  She gestures towards the door. “I’m ready to go. You?”

  “Lead the way.”

  The drive home to our apartment is a little tense, but I think we’ll be okay. I hope we’ll be okay. Once Cosette sees how fun it will be to work together, I’m sure she’ll be fine. That’s what I tell myself at least.

  It’s just as I’m getting into bed that my phone chimes with a text with from an unknown number. I open it, and my heart starts to pound.

  Thinking of you.

  Sleep tight.

  — J

  Never in my life have I felt like a text message had the power to undo me until now. This does. Right, like I’m going to be able to sleep now that I know he’s thinking about me, possibly touching himself while thinking about what happened earlier. God, this is crazy. I start to type a response, and delete it. Again. And again. Nothing seems right. I don’t know what I can say that doesn’t sound dumb or childish. After a good fifteen minutes, I give up. I’m sure I’ll see him tomorrow at the club, and I’ve always been better with my words in person. I shut off the light defiantly. I’m going to sleep. But as soon as my head hits the pillow I know that it’s going to be a long night with those words echoing in my head. Thinking of you. Sleep tight.

  Four

  The Club Deep parking lot is practically empty when I pull in. It’s well before opening, so it’s not surprising, but still, without the cars, this building looks more like an abandoned office building than a popular club. But I suppose that’s at least partially the point. I’ve come early to fill out my paperwork, and I hope I finish it before Cosette arrives. After the awkwardness last night, I don’t know how to tell her about the absolutely ridiculous salary that I’m going to get. I think that news has to come later, with a lot of tequila shots between us. Or maybe I won’t tell her at all. I can’t really see how her knowing that I’m making more than four times her salary is going to help anything. She’s already hesitant about both of us working here, and I want her to be happy.

  Early in the morning, the club is almost unrecognizable. With normal fluorescent lights instead of the roving colors, this looks like an industrial loft space. Funny, you never think about the way a night club looks in the daytime. Probably part of the charm. They’re places that can really only exist at night, when you can be in the shadows and your better judgement takes a vacation. Time will tell if my better judgement was present last night or not. One thing’s for sure, my boss at the restaurant wasn’t happy to find out I was quitting, and I wasn’t sticking around for two weeks’ notice either. Yeah, I don’t think I’ll be eating there any time soon.

  “Hello?” I call across the club because I don’t see anyone, and I have no idea where Randall swept Cosette off to last night for all the employment stuff.

  A man appears from behind one of the bars carrying a box full of glassware. Seeing me, he gives me a once over, and I’m not sure what conclusion he comes to. “You need something?”

  “First day as a dancer,” I say, explaining. “I need to fill out paperwork?”

  He points behind the bar. “Double doors back there, second office on the right.”

  “Thanks.”

  Pushing through the double doors, I find a hallway not unlike the one I spent some time in last night, even if this one seems more worn. The fluorescent lights sputter a little, and paint is peeling in places. The second door on the right is open, and I knock on the frame as I look inside. “Hello?”

  Randall looks up from the desk and gives me a sarcastic smile. “Oh, it’s you. Mr. Rivers told me that you’d changed your mind.”

  “Yeah.”

  The disdain is practically rippling off him. “Sit down.” I do, and he gives me a clipboard full of papers. “Basic employment stuff. W-2, direct deposit, employee questionnaire guidelines. Let me know when you’re done.”

  He goes back to typing on his compu
ter. I don’t like Randall. I mean, I’m sure he’s got some kind of redeeming quality to be employed here, but I don’t like the vibe he gives off. Thankfully, I’ve done this kind of paperwork so many times over the past few years that it doesn’t take me long, and it’s only a few minutes before I hand the clipboard last night.

  “Good.” He gives me another look down his nose. “I heard that you got a tour of the place last night, so we’ll skip that. Follow me and I’ll show you the costume room.”

  He leads me out of the room, further down the hallway and through another set of double doors. I fight to keep my jaw from falling to the floor. This room is huge, with double-high racks of clothing filling the space. I spot a little bit of everything, from tiny sparkly bikinis to a corset with some LEDs attached. “Most of these are for theme nights, and we’ll let you know when you need to choose one. Those you don’t get to keep.” He leads me to a corner of the room with more traditional looking club wear. “This is the normal dance-wear. Choose three outfits, you’ll get to switch them out in a few weeks. You’ll learn the schedule. When you’re done, head to the dressing room. I’ll give you and the other new dancers a quick orientation before opening.”

  He disappears through the racks of clothes, and I can’t help being a little bit relieved. I look around, taking in the racks of clothes. This is insane. And amazing. The more I find out about this place, the more those two words seem to go together to describe it. I start to flip through the clothes and there’s anything you could ever want, really. I know my first choice the moment I see it: A royal blue 1960s mini-dress that’s covered in sequins. With the lights in the club, that dress is going to look like a disco ball, and I’m thinking hell yes. And the thought of Julian seeing me in that dress, all legs and glitter is a bonus. I can’t keep the grin off my face. No job should be this fun.

  I pick some neon orange high-waisted leggings and a black halter bra as my second costume, and my third is a body suit with crystals in interesting patterns. There’s a rack of high heeled shoes, and I pick some pairs in my size that look good but hopefully also won’t make my feet bleed. Randall told me to go to the dressing room. We skipped that part of the tour last night, but I’m not going to go ask him. But it turns out that it’s not that hard to find, the door is behind the main bar.