Devastated (The New Orleans Temptation Series Book 1)

by Monica May

  He walks into the bathroom, stops in the doorway, stands against the doorframe in his tux, and glares at me. I intended for him to be taken back by the view, but I'm the one stunned. It has been twenty years since I’ve seen him in a tux, and he looks just as handsome as he did back then. His tux is black with a royal purple bowtie and vest. I feel like we are going to the prom we never had together. I smile back at him, standing with my corset in hand, dressed only in stockings, garter belt, and heels.

  “Are you going to stand there all night and stare or help me into my dress?”

  “Do you know how sexy you look, Shelby? I could stand here and look at your naked body all day. I’m not sure I will be able to make it all night knowing what you have on under your dress; you’re definitely testing my will tonight, woman.”

  With a smile, I turn around and step into the loosened corset with attached skirt. The original skirt was knee length with a stain on the back. I removed the beautiful trim along the edge and cut it short enough to remove the stain and to expose the straps of my thigh highs. I also pulled it in a bit to make sure it fit me snugly.

  Meg had already tied me up in the corset so Grant didn't have to string it up, and he only had to tighten it. “All done; what’s next? Where are your panties?” He looks around the bathroom, but there is no clothing left in the room except for the full skirt to wrap around my waist.

  “Why in the world would I waste my time with panties at a sex club, Grant?”

  “Oh Lord, I’m not sure I will be able to walk straight knowing your beautiful bare pussy lies under that dress with no barrier. I mean, really, you must be trying to give me a heart attack.”

  “You’ll be fine; help me get this skirt on.” He holds my hand as I step into the large ball gown, making sure I don’t fall over in these heels. Walking over to my cosmetic bag, I give my neck a few spritzes of perfume and feel Grant’s gaze still on me. Looking up into his eyes, I ask, “How do I look?”

  He doesn’t say a word as he walks over to me, never taking his eyes off mine. When he reaches me, he holds my face in his hands. “You look more beautiful everyday I wake up to you.” Leaning his head down, he kisses a soft kiss on the tip of my nose. “Let me put your necklace on.” He drapes the gold necklace around my neck, clasps it in the back, and runs his hands over my shoulders down to my hands. The sweetness gives me goose bumps.

  Turning around into his arms, I’m now eye-to-eye with him in these heels. His eyes allow me to read his thoughts. “I love you too; let’s go put our bracelets and masks on, and we can head to the party.” Grabbing his hand, I lead him out of the bathroom to the antique dresser and open the drawer. I have not told him what color bracelet I have chosen. He hasn't pressured me by asking, nor has he tried to persuade me one way or the other. I pull out a large red velvet box and hand him his mask. His is a simple black velvet mask with gold rope trim and a tie to keep it secure.

  My mask, of course, is very fancy. It’s the exact royal purple of my dress trimmed in Grant's matching gold rope with purple and gold feathers that plume above my head on one side. This mask has thin gold arms similar to sunglasses so I don't have to tie anything around my up-do. I'm sure in any other city we would look out of place walking out of a hotel room dressed like this, but not in New Orleans! Masquerade parties are held year round, and it’s not uncommon in the French Quarter to see people dressed in formal wear with Mardi Gras masks in any given month.

  Right before we head out the door, I open the white box our bracelets arrived in. They are silver chain bracelets with a round quarter-sized tag on each of them. Grant's bracelet is clearly for a man as it has larger links, and mine is more feminine and dainty. I put Grant's bracelet on his wrist, and his black tag can clearly be seen from under his tux as it hangs down low onto his hand.

  His eyes grow large when I hand him my bracelet to put on me. My bracelet has a large PINK tag on it.

  “This is going to be a very exciting night. I love you so much. Don’t ever forget that.” Pulling me in by my waist, he leans me over and dips me as if we were ballroom dancing, kissing me passionately. I was unsure how he would react to the pink tag, but he throws me a curve ball by ignoring the color altogether.

  “I’m glad you wore that smudge-proof lipstick tonight. I plan on kissing you all night and would hate to smudge those sexy lips.”

  “Let’s go, handsome.” We step out of the elevator into the old world French lobby. Everyone turns and watches as we walk by. We get nods and smiles as if we are movie stars. I hear an older women say, “What a stunning couple.” We both look at each other and smile, knowing these people have no idea where we’re going and what we’re about to do. They assume we are going to a simple black-tie New Year’s Eve party.

  I had grabbed my gold clutch on the way out of the door with our ID badges, touch-up makeup, and personal wipes for clean up. What? I can’t help it I am an over-planner. Grant had grabbed two bottles of wine since the club does not serve alcohol and has a bring your own liquor policy. They label it and serve it back to you with a corking charge.

  The hotel is right across the street from the club. It’s not far to walk, but I’m sure on the way back, I’ll be wearing my ballerina slippers I also stuffed into my clutch.

  We are now standing on the front steps of the club. There’s nothing on the door other than the address. There is no way anyone else would know there is a business behind this door. Grant looks at me before we move forward. “Are you sure you want to do this? I will love you and have fun with you in that gown no matter what! It’s your call.” I don’t respond to him verbally and push him toward the door. He turns the knob, and we enter into a small lobby with a bouncer of sorts waiting with a smart phone in his hand. He doesn’t smile at us; he simply looks up and says in a scary deep voice, “ID Badge!”

  I hand over the cards to him, and once they are scanned and confirmed, he smiles and properly greets us as he opens the locked door behind him, “Please enjoy your evening at Savannah’s Closet.” Grant holds the door open as I enter. There’s a long hallway that leads to the main floor as explained in our packet. It looks like a typical ballroom setup. People are dancing, chatting at the bar, and sitting around small tables on large sofas.

  We glance at each other with nervous smiles. I take his hand. “Let’s head to the bar and get this wine opened.” Walking though the ballroom toward the bar, I take in the scene. It is a medium-sized room with a marble dance floor in the middle. There are several people dancing to the romantic jazz music playing from the speakers surrounding the room. It looks very normal but feels weird; I sure hope a glass of wine helps shake the nerves.

  Once we have our glasses in hand, we turn to walk away as a couple approaches us in conversation. The couple is a very attractive couple, and they appear to be in their mid-fifties. Her dress is exquisite. She is tall and thin with long flowing blonde hair and a beautiful diamond-encrusted mask. Her gown is a black-sequined gown with a plunging neckline. The dress is fitted to her fit body, and she is covered in excessive amounts of diamond jewelry.

  He’s tall and attractive in a Richard Gere sort of way. With a square jaw line, defined cheekbones, and silver hair with a slight curl to it, he’s very sexy standing tall in a grey tuxedo with a silver mask. Looking around, I notice every man I see is in black; he’s the only one in grey with the persona of wanting to stand out.

  The idea of the masks is strange and wonderful at the same time. It’s strange that you have no idea what people look like and who they are, but wonderful because they can't see who you are either.

  The couple has introduced themselves as Susan and Edward. We reply with our fist names only as well, and they take the lead and direct the conversation. Edward starts speaking with Grant in the typical get to know you way. “What type of work do you do?” and “Are you from the New Orleans area?” They continue to chat, but I can no longer hear them over the music and Susan.

  She has started the conversa
tion by asking me if this is our first visit to “The Closet?” Assuming that is the nickname for the club, I give an embarrassed laugh with my eyes down and nod my head yes. She pulls me closer to her by my elbow. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. We have been coming here for twenty years and we love it. No one will push you to do anything you’re uncomfortable with. But I do urge you to push your limits get the full experience. We’re not swingers; we simply enjoy watching and being watched. For us, it’s a sexual high just to be in the atmosphere upstairs. I would prefer mixing it up with the ladies a bit, but it's no longer Edward’s cup of tea. Keep an open mind; this is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Have a drink or two down here, dance with your husband, and get comfortable. When ya’ll are feeling a little frisky, come upstairs and see what is going on. If you don’t enjoy it, you can always come back down to the vanilla party.” She says that with a sour face and a wave of her hand. She turns, gives me a wink, grabs her husband’s hand, and pulls him toward the stairs.

  Edward looks back at Grant. “Hope to see ya’ll upstairs soon.” Grant takes my hand, puts our empty glasses down on the bar, and leads me to the dance floor. Pulling me close with one hand around my waist, his other hand is in mine as I wrap my free arm under his. I rest my cheek on his chest. We are molded together as one swaying along with the music.

  We dance silently for a few songs. Listening to his breath and his heartbeat, it’s loud and rapid. I look up at him just as he looks down at me with a smile. “What are you thinking my Bossy Girl? You want to mingle more down here, or do you want to go see what's going on upstairs?”

  “I think we should grab a drink for the journey and head upstairs.” Hand-in-hand, we walk over to the bar and order our drinks. As I reach for mine, I feel a woman’s hand brush across my bare shoulder. When I turn, a woman immediately wraps me in a hug. Once I get my bearings, I see the red hair and know it's the woman from the doctor’s office.

  She has on a very large red ball gown. It’s absolutely beautiful on her. The halter-top is crystal encrusted with a deep plunging back that extends right above the crack of her ass. The skirt is covered in layers and layers of red tulle.

  “I’m glad to see you made it. I have been looking for you all night.” Her hands slide down my shoulder to my wrist. Picking up my arm, a smile spreads across her face. She looks like the cat that ate the canary. Taking a step closer to me, she says, “I sure hope you plan on making use of that tonight. I have been dreaming of you ever since I first saw you.”

  Her warm breath hits my bare neck, and I get goose bumps. My heart races, and it’s a strange feeling. I am a little turned on yet confused about my body’s reaction. I feel as if it’s betrayed me. The redhead does not introduce herself by name. Like everyone else here, a beautiful mask shields her, but I know it’s the same woman from the doctor’s office. She turns away and walks toward the stairs leading to all the action. When she’s almost to the top, she turns and glances back over at us, blowing a kiss over her shoulder.

  I look toward Grant trying to read his expression, but this time, his eyes give nothing away; a blank stare is all I see. I’m not sure how to read that. I pull him close to ask if he’s ready to go up, but before I can get the words out, he grabs me firmly by the shoulders with a stern shake that startles me. I look up into his terror-filled eyes that look both scared and mad. “Are you okay? Grant? What's the matter? Did you change your mind? Do you want to go back to the hotel?” I watch his response closely as he takes a deep breath trying to compose himself.

  “I don’t want to share you! Not with a man and not with a woman! You're mine and only mine. I don’t even want people to see the parts of you that only I should see.” Edward said a few things that really shook me, Shelby. He mentioned how we’ll never be the same if we decide to share ourselves.”

  “I'm confused, Grant. Susan said they’re not swingers. Let me in on where this is coming from.”

  “Edward started with general conversation, and when I said it was our first time, Edward noted you having a pink tag. He asked me a few more general questions about our plans, but not in an intrusive way. I shared with him where we might be headed. He cautioned me about the differences in seeing two girls on porn together and seeing your wife with another woman.” He rubs his hand through his hair and takes another deep breath. “When that redheaded woman put her hands on you, she touched you like she wants to fuck you! I didn’t like it, not at all. I know, I said this was my fantasy, but I really do believe some fantasies are better in your head; this is not something I want for us.”

  I open my arms to wrap Grant in a tight embrace and start to laugh. I can't stop. I pull back to see that Grant is a bit confused, and I try to calm myself in order to let him know that I’m relieved he feels that way. I truly want to be owned by him. I want him to be possessive of me, and most of all, I want him to treasure me.

  “I’m thankful that the redhead showed up when she did. I’m also thankful she touched you the way she did, because after a few more drinks, we may have not been in the correct frame of mind to communicate this to each other.”

  We take a minute to sit at a table near the dance floor to regroup. We sit at that table for about thirty minutes cuddling and finishing our second glass of wine. I stand and take Grant's hand. “Lets go see what all the fuss is about. But first, let’s hit the bar for a Sharpie to black out this pink.” With a smile, Grant gets up and leads us to the bar where we do just that.

  Chapter 21

  We head up the narrow staircase, which brings us to the landing right outside the door. Another bouncer greets us asking us for our ID badges again. I am assuming this is to ensure someone doesn’t sneak past the first bouncer. He also directs us to the dressing room and coat closet to leave our things.

  I enter the dressing room to see a lady sitting there with a maid-like uniform. Just like the old fancy hotels, she’s attending to the restroom making sure everyone has what they need. “Do you need help getting changed, ma’am?” Thank goodness she's here because I really didn’t know how I was going to get out of this large skirt without falling over.

  “Yes, ma’am, I do. Could you help me get out of this skirt without falling over?” Smiling warmly, she helps me and doesn’t flinch when she sees the risqué outfit I have on underneath. I’m assuming this is a daily event for her. She hands me a tag and takes the skirt back to the coat closet. I freshen up my hair and makeup and step back to look at myself in the long mirror. My floor-length skirt is gone, and I’m left in my corset top and mini skirt that falls right below the roundness of my ass. The purple straps from my garter belt extend out from underneath the skirt clamping to my thigh-highs. It looks very sexy with these sky-high heels.

  I step out of the dressing room to meet Grant. He looks even more handsome now that he's only half-dressed. The jacket and tie have been ditched, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his shirt is unbuttoned past his collarbone.

  I take my claim tag and handkerchief out of my clutch and give it to Grant to carry in his pocket. The nice lady standing outside the door is waiting to take my clutch. She also asks for our masks; apparently, they are not allowed in the playroom. I must have skimmed over that piece of information in the booklet. Oh well, there’s no turning back now.

  We are off to the playroom, and I take a deep breath as Grant squeezes my hand and nods reassuringly. We enter the room, and it’s very different from the room downstairs. There's club music playing loudly. The lights are dimmer and the room is separated into sections that have direct light over each area.

  We walk through the room to see what’s going on. As we proceed through the room, directly to our right are several sofas with pillows all over the place. There’s a large portrait on the wall above this area that shows a very muscular man with dress slacks and no shirt. His pants appear to be unzipped, and a very sexy woman is between his legs giving him a blowjob. You can’t see her face; you just see her perfect ass barley
covered in a thong, breasts resting on his legs.

  Looking down from the portrait, it appears everyone in this area is either giving or receiving oral sex. We pause and watch for a moment. There’s a couple that mimics the portrait identically. He’s sitting in an armless chair with his shirt off. His chest is chiseled to perfection, but you can tell he's not in his twenties. My eyes travel a little further down to see his grey trousers. Yep, it’s Edward and Susan. She’s kneeling on a pillow in between his legs. Her head comes up and down off of his cock, which allows us to see all of him. You can see his dick glistening in the dim candlelit room. There are candles on the wall and on most table surfaces.

  Susan sees us watching them and removes her mouth to pump him with her hand. She locks her eyes on me and gives me a better view of his large cock. She strokes him slowly and seductively, as her eyes never leave mine. She then dips her head slightly to tease his slit with her tongue. She’s watching us as we watch her. This is very intense, like watching a movie.

  She gives us a smile and goes back to sucking him. There is another couple in this group of chairs and sofas. The woman is sitting up against the arm of the sofa with one leg pulled up and resting on the back of the sofa. The other leg is on the floor bracing herself, and both legs are covered in silky black thigh-highs. The thigh-highs are attached to a black lace garter belt around her waist. She has on a black bra with the middle cut out so her nipples are exposed and long black satin gloves that go past her elbows. She is using her satin covered fingers to roll one of her nipples as the man in between her legs licks her slowly. It appears no one here is in a rush to get off enjoying watching and being watched. Their eyes are wide open with pleasure and no shame as they are being observed.