by Penny Wylder
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?”
“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 w
hile 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.
4
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 computer. 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.
When I enter, there’s already a bunch of people milling around and getting ready. One of them is Cosette. “Libby!” She jumps off the bench and tackles me in a hug, all signs of yesterday’s awkwardness gone. In fact, she seems like she’s bouncing off the walls. I struggle to not drop anything. “I’m so excited, are you excited?”
I laugh. “Yes. Only a really good job lets you go shopping before you actually have to work.”
“I know, right?” Cosette laughs too, a little too loud and hard. “I saw your locker, it’s over here.”
She points me down the row, and I see a locker that has a piece of paper attached to it with my name. I pull the paper off and turn it over. On the other side is the lock combination along with a note in neat handwriting.
I can’t wait to see you dance again.
There’s no signature, but there doesn’t have to be. I know exactly who wrote it. I put my clothes inside the locker and change into the blue mini-dress while Cosette sits down on the bench by me to do her make up. She’s fidgeting and jumpy while she does her make-up and she hasn’t stopped talking since we came over to the locker, filling me in on our colleagues. “Everyone is super nice. Those girls over there, they go into the orgy room and fool around with each other to make people more comfortable to start having sex. The girls over there in the black pants and bras are the waitresses. She’s a DJ.” Cosette gestures to a gorgeous tall woman who’s putting on some neon eye make-up.
I sit down next to her, strapping on mile-high back heels and pulling out my make-up bag. “This is all going to take some getting used to.”
“You can say that again. Working at night’s going to be so different. But, Libby,” she says, “we have jobs dancing. Dancing.”
A grin spreads across my face. “It’s amazing.”
Cosette draws liner across her lid in a dramatic cat-eye. She’s dressed in a black catsuit with a plunging neckline. She takes in my outfit. “What look are you going for tonight?”
I start to dab some orange color across my eyelids. “Mod disco.”
She laughs. “Sounds perfect.” Again, her laugh is loud.
She looks at me, and I startle, because her pupils are huge. Dread sinks in my stomach. I grab her hand before she can do her other eye. “Cosette,” I whisper, “Are you high?”
“As a kite, baby! Nothing feels like this. They have really good shit here.”
My mouth drops open a little, “I don’t understand.” It’s been a long time since Cosette has done any drugs, but it’s never a good sign. When
ever she gets high is a time I have to worry, because high Cosette doesn’t make smart choices. And I can’t lose her. I don’t think I’d survive it if something happened to her. Plus, it’s our first day? “Why today?”
She rolls here eyes. “Lighten up, Libby.” She elongates my name, drawing it out. “I’m just having a little fun. That’s what this job is right? Fun?”
“Cosette—”
“You’re too much of a goody-two-shoes, Lib. You need to relax.”
“I’m just concerned.”
“Yeah, well don’t be. I can take care of myself.” She snatches her make-up kit off the bench and goes back to her own locker. Shit. Did something happen? I always find out later why Cosette gets high or drunk and wish I could have seen it coming. This is the same. I have no idea what set her off, and I honestly don’t have time to worry about it, but I know that I will all night. Hopefully later, when she’s sober, I can ask her again.
My make-up is almost done when Randall strides into the dressing room. I do a double-take. Is he supposed to just come in here like that? When people could be getting dressed? I glance around, and I see that everyone is decent. But still, it seems weird. “New dancers, with me.”
I shove my make-up bag in my locker and close it quickly before following him, Cosette, and two other girls out into the club. The fluorescent lights are gone and replaced with the dramatic, flashing colors from the night before. The club is still pretty empty, but there are a few guests arriving. No one is dancing yet, even though the DJ has already taken her place and the music has started to pound.
Randall stops by one of the cages that’s on the floor by the edge of the dance floor. “Okay, so the main thing I need to tell you guys about is our tipping system.” He points to a screen that’s attached to the top of the cage, easily visible. It says the number of the cage. “We’ve got an app, and if somebody likes what you’re doing in the cage, they can tip you. Anything above $50, your cage gets spotlights, and the bars glow. I’m sure you’ll see soon enough. Rack up enough tips, and you’ll get confetti from the ceiling. Don’t hold your breath on that though, it takes a lot to get there and even with our high rollers, it rarely happens. Any questions.”
