by Dark Angel
“Oh, absolutely. I would love another drink.” I reply. “But can I have a hot towel or something, first?”
Chapter 12
Alyssa
I’ve always been really open-minded about sex. I really have. But if fifteen-year-old me heard from me right now, telling her that she’d someday suck the cocks of twelve smoking hot executives in the private room of a strip club, she’d probably tell me I’m a big liar and that would never happen.
I bring my attention to my surroundings. There’s neon lights, black lights, booming music, and loud, careless chatter all going on around me. It’s interesting. It definitely contrasts my night alone reviewing my empty notes about True Love.
“What’s your poison, beautiful?” Tristan asks. His smile has me locked on his face, especially since the last time I noticed it was when he kissed me after I blew him on stage. God, what a rush all of that was. It feels like a dream, like it all happened in my mind.
I think carefully for a moment and decide.
“I’d like a sex on the beach, please.”
“You got it,” he replies. The bartender approaches us on the other side of the counter. “One sex on the beach, and one gin and tonic, please. Put it on the tab.”
“Thank you,” I say to him.
I know they invited me out here, but I’m still getting used to all of my own drinks being covered. Well, I suppose this is a business meeting of sorts for them and that they’ll claim it as such. I’d never met such a voracious group of men before, and I’ve investigated several companies. They are definitely unique.
“Are you okay, Alyssa?” Tristan asks. Shit. I guess I was staring off into space.
“Yeah, I’m perfectly fine. I’m just a tiny bit...exasperated. I’m enjoying the respite. And I—I was just staring at the whiskey selection. I was scanning it for my favorite.”
“Oh?” He interjects. “And which whiskey would that be?”
“Jameson,” I counter. He laughs. “What’s funny about that, Tristan?”
“Oh, nothing. I just don’t drink anything other than Maker’s Mark myself. I guess I just like to treat myself more than you do,” he says playfully.
“I’ll have you know I can sip any whiskey. I prefer Jameson. You sir, can take your Maker’s Mark elsewhere,” I argue back. “But no matter. I’ll just enjoy my delicious drink here.”
“Sex on the beach. How dignified,” he jabs. He squeezes his lime into his drink and stirs before taking a sip.
“At least I enjoy different flavors on my palate,” I jab back. “Gin and tonics are for people that don’t know how to have fun when they drink.” I take a sip of my beverage and wink at him, his mouth opens from my lighthearted insult to him. “It’s all in good fun, love. If you don’t mind, I’m quite enjoying the performances. I’ll be at the stage if you need me.”
I hop off the bar stool and pass the group as I make my way to the stage. I sit right at the head and gaze up at the woman dancing. She’s the girl that gave me a lap dance just a little while ago tonight. How ironic.
I reach into my purse and toss a couple of singles on to the stage. Ebony leans down and sweetly says, “thank you sweetheart. I was hoping you’d be back out here.”
“Of course,” I say. “I really enjoyed your...private performance. I felt like I should come out and properly converse with you.”
“Aww, you’re so thoughtful,” she says to me. She is on all fours facing me, shaking her ass behind her. She points out to the group. “You know who you’re out here with, right?”
“Yes, the True Love execs. We’re here on business ironically enough.”
“Go figure. They frequent the club and girls are always pining after them to get lap dances. They’ll come here and toss hundreds at the stage, but I’ve never gotten them back in the VIP room. I was excited to be asked back there with them, and don’t get me wrong, I had fun dancing with you, but they’re so picky and I thought I won one of them over.”
So, these guys clearly saw something in me, that they wanted me to dance with them in private. I’m giddy on the inside to know that they think so much of me, but I’m intimidated as hell and I’m not sure if I can keep all of this up.
“May we join you?” a familiar voice asks from behind. To my left, Ford presents himself, and Theo grabs the seat to my right.
“Actually, gentlemen, I need to use the restroom. But feel free. This chick is just lovely.” I get up from the seat and thank her for her pleasantries, before I walk my way back to the restroom in the front of the establishment.
I feel an incredible relief as I plop down onto the seat, and I scan the spotless restroom. For some reason, I had it in my head that a strip club would be dirty, but this is about as pristine as I’d expect a country club to be.
I swear, there’s some stigma about these places that just don’t need to be there. Damn. I just broke the seal. I really don’t want to have to go to the bathroom a million times tonight. Well, fuck it. It happened. There’s nothing more to do now.
I situate my clothes and get out of the stall. I approach the vanity and pump soap into my hands that resembles a certain liquid I had on my hands earlier tonight. Mmm. I’d kill to do that all over again.
I can’t decide which is my favorite of them all. They’re equally delicious in so many different ways, and worst of all they’re all so addictive.
I rinse my hands and grab a paper towel. I look myself over in the mirror before I exit the bathroom, and realize I have a dried glob of cum right on my chest. And none of those fuckers let me know. They were probably letting me wear it as a trophy. I wet a paper towel and wipe at it gently until it’s gone. I crumble the paper towel and toss it into the wastebasket.
I exit the restroom and make my way back over to the bar. Tristan is still sitting there, conversing with the bartender.
“What can I get you, sweetie?” she asks.
“I’ll have a gin and tonic, please,” I return. She quickly prepares the drink and I take the lime wedge and squeeze it into my drink and stir it with my straw.
I take a sip and pat my lips before glancing over at Tristan. His eyes are wide, and his mouth is hanging slightly open. I wink at him playfully and walk away, swaying my hips at him flirtingly. I decide I’m going back to the stage to tip some of the other lovely women on display.
As I walk by, I see that the men are gathered amongst 3 different tables and are discussing a perfume project.
“Project Partridge launch is hard set on Christmas Day,” Ty says to the group. “Everything is looking good and I think we’ll get through it with no real obstructions.”
Shit. Double shit. Triple Shit. What am I doing here?
Chapter 13
Alyssa
Ty, Ethan, and Nico are all touching me and kissing my neck and shoulders. Their hands are moving between my arms, my breasts, my stomach...going lower...reaching for my pussy. My head is tilted high and my eyes are closed, just enjoying the sensation of their skin against my own.
I hear a beeping in the background, and my eyes pop open. I’m staring at a blank, white ceiling. Shit. I’m doing it again. I can’t get them out of my head nor out of my dreams. Fuck. I take a deep breath and rest my arm on my forehead, but drag it away quickly, noticing my forearm now drenched in sweat. This must have been some dream.
I take my arms under my comforter and my flat sheet and pull it off me. As I move my arms back to my side, my hand grazes against my crotch and I realize that I once again soaked my panties in my sleep. I think I came in one of my dreams. Shit, maybe more than one.
I sigh to myself and shake my head, taking it all in. I slide my legs around the side of my bed and scoot myself to the edge. I move my feet around, searching. My toes find my slippers and I slide my feet into them and stand up. I take a few steps and grab my bathrobe and slip it on.
I make my way out of my room and into the kitchen, where I pour the last of my bottle of wine from yesterday into a glass, for a hair of the dog. I
drank quite a bit last night, and I could stand not to feel it, given all of what I have to do today.
I sip my wine as I make my way back to my bedroom. I set the glass on my nightstand, go into my bathroom and turn the hot water on to start a shower. I can’t wait to exfoliate my face and just get myself all clean from being so sweaty. I didn’t realize I could have dreams so...vivid.
I stick my hand under the water and feel the temperature. It’s perfect.
I step out of my robe and hang it on the bathroom door hook. I step into the shower and close the sliding glass door. I step directly under the shower head and let the beads of hot water roll down my skin. The warm, running liquid reminds me of last night. Feeling hot cum spray all onto my body was so fucking hot.
Oh, right. Last night was definitely more than just some sexy dream. They were talking about a perfume launch. Shit. They were talking about the one I tried in the lab.
The perfume that gave me an overwhelming, heightened sense of desire. The one that resulted in me fucking all of the people that were in the room with me. Granted, I really wanted to...but I couldn’t resist.
I take my shampoo bottle in my hand and pop it open. I turn it upside down, shake it a bit and squeeze a glob of it into the palm of my hand. I put my hands together and rub them, lathering up the soap. My fingers go to my hair and massage my scalp with my fingertips. It feels so nice.
I grab my hair behind my head and I start seeing flashes of the men being the ones to do it before holding my head in place and fucking my throat. Jesus. I really need to find a way to clear my head of all of this.
Something about them has me hooked. Is it that perfume? Does it last this long? I feel like it’s really just harder to lock that desire back up once it’s been unleashed. It’s so liberating, and I don’t think I ever want to go back.
I’m so good at shaking these feelings normally. Have there been times when I see a guy and I just want him to throw me onto a table and fuck me as hard as he can? Absolutely. Do I act on it? No. Never. It’s not appropriate. It’s not conducive most of the time.
Like now for example! I have a job to do. And I’m distracted like crazy and I’m not getting anything done. Now, this damn perfume is supposed to launch in eight days and I have to find a way to stop that from happening. This feeling is amazing, but just so unpredictable.
I look up at my ceiling as I rinse my hair. I shake my hair up and down and try to get water into every crevice to help the shampoo out of it. Once it’s all gone, I take my conditioner and repeat the process.
I let it soak into my scalp, though, and grab some body wash and my loofa. I squirt a generous amount of my soap onto the scrubbing tool, and graze it against my soft skin. Mmm. Exfoliating should be deemed a sin. It feels too good.
Right. This perfume. It’s just...I can’t imagine that it can do people more good than harm in what it unleashes. Carnal desire is a dangerous emotion, and having such raw unshakable passion can lead to so much self-destruction.
What if I’m on the street one day after spraying it onto myself and I just decide to fuck Joe Shmoe right there on the sidewalk? It would be committing a crime, for Christ’s sake! You can actually be arrested and charged with a bunch of different shit depending what state you’re in.
Who’s to say someone couldn’t resist another person and end up moving in on someone with no reciprocative desire? Shit.
I rinse the conditioner from my hair and comb my fingers through, smoothing out any tangles. I often contemplate putting a hair brush in here to make this easier, but I always manage through it just fine in the end. I wring out my hair, and finish scrubbing my body.
That’s so hard to even stomach as an idea, but it’s real. It could actually happen. Will power is an amazing facet of our brains and I don’t think this company has any place to tamper with it. But how can I stop it?
I know how to get into the lab. I have to get my hands on the perfume again. Maybe I can smuggle a sample? I can take a little vial with me and maybe they just won’t notice the difference. I can’t imagine with how strangely the place is handled, that they’d miss just a couple of squirts.
Shit. But how do I keep that from them? How do I get down to the lab without them noticing my absence on their presence? Okay. Next time I’m in the facility, I’m gonna have to wing it. I have to stop them. This perfume cannot go out to the public; it’s not safe.
But if I take the formula to the FDA, and they have their hands on it, what happens from there? What does that mean for the team. How do I explain to—woah, team? Alyssa, get a goddamn grip here.
These guys are not my boyfriends. They’re going to be ruining the entire country with the release of this perfume. I need to keep that in mind. This is more than just about myself. I may have some feelings, somewhere, for them, but it cannot get in the way any more than it already has.
I give my entire body one final rinse. I reach my hands back and turn off the water. I get out of the shower, take my towel, and pat myself dry and wring my dripping hair into it before hanging it up. I take my bathrobe off the door and replace it onto my body and place my slippers back on my feet, before walking to my mirror to start getting my makeup on for the day.
But why do they all have to be so perfect? Fuck.
Chapter 14
Ford
My cock twitches as I watch her cross the lobby on the monitor.
The security guard stops her briefly. They have been given specific instructions on handling her. They will not deny her access, just slow her down a bit as she enters. We don't want her feeling like she has free reign of the place.
Not yet, at any rate.
She’s beautiful. Even in the grainy black-and-white images on the screen, you can still tell that she’s stunning.
The sound of breathing nearby reminds that I am not alone, that three of my associates also have their eyes glued to the screen. They’re staring at the image just as much as I am. Are any of us immune to her charms?
I'm startled out of my reverie by the phone ringing. Picking it up, I say, "Ford."
“She’s on her way up now, sir,” a man’s voice says. It’s the security guard.
“Thank you.” I replace the handle on its receiver and watch the guard hang up his phone on the monitor, realizing that she has already walked away from the security desk and is heading for the elevators.
The four of us move to our seats.
“What’s the plan, Ford?”
Turning, I face Nico. He likes knowing what’s going on and having a plan ready, rarely one to just follow the tide―not that any of us made it here idly.
Before I have the chance to respond, Tristan voices his opinion. “We should be shutting her down. She already knows too much. This is too big of a risk just before the big launch!”
I turn my eyes from Nico to Tristan. “Do you want to be the one to tell her to leave, Tristan?”
As much as Nico needs a plan, Tristan needs to feel in control of his situation. Although at this point, I doubt that any of us are truly in control of what is happening here. We’re all just pieces of a much bigger puzzle.
Tate, sitting between the two, remains silent. He’s willing to wait this out, see how it goes.
Looking back at Nico, I say, “She wants to talk, so we’re going to listen to what she has to say.”
Nico smiles at this. He's always been less comfortable behind the podium than in front of it.
Hearing the elevator chime and the door open, the four of us turn to face the door to the small waiting room where we’re seated in.
Alyssa comes bursting through the door, but is taken aback for an instant by eight eyes already trained on her. She recovers quickly.
“Oh. I'm glad to find you here,” she says. She quickly looks around the room, assessing us. “When will the others get here?”
“We’re here to listen to your concerns,” I say, shrugging.
“I want to talk to all of you. I think this is something that you s
hould all hear.”
“Nevertheless, we have a company to run. We can’t always be at your beck and call, Alyssa. Now, what is it that you wanted to discuss?”
I know full well what she’s here to talk about, but I need to hear her say it. I need her to show me how she truly feels about it. Only then will I know how to handle it.
Nico and Tristan all but imperceptibly lean in toward her, anxious to hear what she has to say, but more anxious to jump at the first opportunity to take control of the situation or to capitalize on her moment of weakness.
Tate and I remain calmly seated. I've no doubt that any one of them will jump in, if they think they can handle this better, but they don't. That is why they asked me to do it.
It's my show for the moment, and for this very moment, I’m not moving at all. How quickly they forget: she is coming to us.
And soon will be coming with us again. It’s so easy to get lost in those eyes, and so hard not to think about those luscious lips traveling the length of my cock, slurping as she sucks hard and fast while I stare into those beautiful eyes as I shoot my load of hot cum on her face.
I'm suddenly thankful for the table, though I've rarely felt the need to hide my erection. Especially here, at my own company!
I'm drawn back into the moment as she looks right at me, but she soon looks around the room at the four of us, locking eyes with each of us for an instant.
Not being able to stand long under the weight of our returned gaze, she looks down to the floor. Then, taking a deep breath, she steels her resolve and starts speaking.
“It's this new scent of yours.” She swallows, hard, and then dives in. “It's the new scent, the lust enhancer. You can't release it. It's not...it's just not right.”
The four of us let the silence drag on, knowing that she will be unable to leave it alone. She will have to say more, compelled to fill the void. It doesn't take long.
“You can't release this new scent. It's immoral, and it's wrong! You’re going to ruin people's lives!”
