by Tiffani Lynn
“God, I missed that,” he breathes.
“Why didn’t you answer when I called?” I ask, unable to mask the hurt in my voice.
He releases my face and turns to face the wall that holds a giant painting I created a few years ago of a beautiful blonde woman in profile as she stands in the Garden of Eden with the reddest apple in existence held in her delicate hand.
“I didn’t want the complication of whatever you had to say. I don’t want to want you. I’m the kind of guy looking for the house with the white picket fence and a couple of kids and a dog. A sex club owner has never been on that list.”
“Then why are you here?” My stomach dips and twists like I’m riding a roller coaster as I wait for his response.
“Because I can’t stay away from you. You’re like a siren calling to something deep inside me. This is my last night with a pass and my last night in town for a week. I couldn’t leave without seeing you.”
He turns back to me, waiting for my reaction.
“Finn. This is who I am. It’s who I’ve been for twelve years. There is more to this story, but the end of it is still with me being the owner of a private sex club. I can’t and won’t change that right now. Eventually, maybe, but not now.”
He runs an impatient hand through his hair and takes an abrupt step into my space.
“Tell me why.”
“I like to be watched and to watch others. I don’t know why I like it, I just do. I don’t sleep with random people. In fact, I’m certain I’ve been with far less people than you, but I’m a voyeur and an exhibitionist, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”
“Other than me, who was the last person you were with?”
“A woman named Vanessa about two years ago. We never dated, but she was into the same thing, and we’d hook up here in the scene rooms. It filled a need for a while. We broke it off when she fell in love with a man she worked with. Before that I dated a guy for about nine months. Before that it was James and also two one night stands mixed in there somewhere. All with club people and all here on the premises.”
The shocked expression on his face says it all. He’s horrified by what he’s just learned about me. This is why I didn’t tell him from the start. Having someone look at me the way he’s looking at me now hurts so much worse than just letting him go. I turn away as shame burns through me.
“Just go, Finn. I knew from the start this wouldn’t work even with the incredible chemistry we seem to have.”
He ignores what I’ve said to ask, “That’s all you’ve been with and you own a sex club? I don’t get it.”
“There’s more you don’t know, but I can’t stand the way you’re looking at me now that you know. Why drag this out? We already know it won’t work. I can’t give this up right now.”
“It’s not your history with other people that’s freaking me out, Darcy. You’re right that I’ve been with more people than you. I can’t even be exact about who or how many so you’re in better shape than I am. What I can’t come to terms with is sharing you. Even if it’s just the visual of you. I don’t want every man around me to know what my woman looks like when she comes. Or hear the sounds she makes when I’m eating her pussy. Those are mine and mine alone. I wanted to beat some ass last night when I saw people getting off to the vision of you.”
I hold my hand up to stop his thought process. “Have you ever had sex in the same room as someone else? Either while they do the same or just watch?” I ask, trying to make a point.
His body goes still as he contemplates his answer. He doesn’t have to say a word for me to know he has, I can read it in his body language.
“It was hot wasn’t it? You probably came harder than you usually do and performed better, too.”
His eyes are wide, but he hasn’t said anything.
I continue, “I don’t know why I get off on it, but I do. The human body is beautiful and watching someone enjoy that is sensual and sexy as hell. You can lie to yourself all day long and say you didn’t like it, but I bet seeing me in the scene room with people watching got your cock hard as steel. If I would have touched you right after, I bet you would have exploded in one pump.”
“I don’t want to share you.” He’s adamant about his feelings on this.
“You don’t have that choice. Besides we aren’t together; there is no sharing to it,” I explain to him snottily. I only resort to that tone when I’m trying to keep from being hurt.
“You know I want to be together.” His eyes are pleading with me to understand.
I clench my hands and squeeze my eyes shut. I’m so darn frustrated that he doesn’t seem to get it.
“Come with me. Just once and watch one of the rooms with me. If you don’t like it, you leave. If you do, we can talk more.” It’s the only olive branch I can offer. My hope is that he will enjoy it too much to give it up… to give me up.
I wait with crossed arms for his answer. I don’t think he’ll do it, but either way, the conversation ends now. I won’t stand here and defend myself any more. Nothing he says changes who I am, and if he cares about me, he won’t ask me to. His hands run impatiently through his hair, mussing the beautiful dark strands.
“Alright. I’ve got nothing to lose. Let’s do this.” He throws his shoulders back and adjusts his suit coat like he’s walking into a meeting with a bunch of big-wigs.
“You have to promise to keep an open mind, and if you get pissed, just leave. I don’t want the wrong kind of scene, and I don’t want Charles to throw you out.” His scowl deepens, and he nods.
I grab his hand, thankful for the moment I have an excuse to touch him, as I lead him through the main room and down the hallway to the last room. The light is on in the room so I know someone is in there. I have no idea what we’ll find. I just hope it’s something that works for him. I was trying to find the least crowded space to do this. I grab the last seat at the end and gesture for him to sit in it.
Tonight there is a lovely young woman, completely bare, stretched out on her stomach on a massage table. She’s young. Probably twenty-four or twenty-five years old and beautiful. Her supple body is all natural. Rounded hips, small waist, toned legs, alabaster skin and because I know this girl, I know she has beautiful perky breasts. Her arms hang down off the table while her hands rest on handles down below. Her legs are slightly spread open for the viewers to glimpse her glistening sex.
The man behind her has on white draw string linen pants and nothing else. He’s also young, about the same age and buff. Well defined muscles cover the landscape of his body. He must wax or shave everywhere because there’s no visible hair on his entire body. He grabs the large bottle of oil on the stand next to him, and he squirts a line from her neck to her ass crack. He places the bottle back on the stand and begins to work the oil in to the skin on her upper back in wide strokes, moving his way down as he goes. When he gets to her ass he kneads the fleshy rounds in his palms, separating the two parts, allowing us to view the hidden treasure underneath and the puckered pink opening of her ass. His fingers subtly swipe near both entrances but never quite touches them. The longer this goes on, the more she squirms, like she’s trying to get him to penetrate one or both holes. Soft whimpers and the sound of his heavy breathing leak out of the speakers around the viewing area to surround us.
The only other occupants are two men sitting further down the row of chairs from Finn. I’m still standing behind him with my hands on his shoulders watching the scene unfold in front of me. I graze the back of his neck with my fingertips to find his muscles are bunched up, tense and his skin is so hot it’s like he’s on fire.
I lean over into his ear and whisper, “Take off your coat.”
He leans forward and removes the coat. I take it from him and lay it over the empty chair next to us. Then I manipulate the muscles in his neck and shoulders the best I can. His pulse is thundering in his neck, and when I lean forward slightly, I can see the enormous bulge in his pants as his gaze remains glued o
n the couple in the room. I skim my nails lightly down his chest over his shirt and circle his nipples through the fabric. His lips part and a sigh escapes as I watch his thighs flex and his hands white knuckle the handles of the chair.
As the girl turns over, and her amazing body is fully on display, I saunter around the chair and sit on Finn’s lap. Spreading my legs wide over the top of his, I face the scene. My feet lock behind his calves leaving easy access to my center. I lay my head back against his shoulder and kiss his jawline the smooth hair of his short beard soft under my lips.
The masseur squirts oil across both berry-tipped nipples, her belly button and down along the line of the lips at the junction of her thighs. Rubbing briefly along her collar bones, he shifts his attention to her amazing rack, running oily thumbs across her nipples, causing the already hard points to bead further. She squirms, rolls her hips and whines for him. His expression is stoic, like he’s unaffected as he continues to rub. Its obvious torture for him to ignore her as his cock is tenting the drawstring pants so tightly that I’m afraid the string might give way on him. His lack of facial reaction turns me on more. The fact that his physical self gives away what his facial expression refuses to is so sexy to me.
Slowly he works his way to the pink petals between her legs and takes his time spreading her open and locating her g-spot. Standing on the side of the table he seems to be shifting his attention between what his hands are doing and her facial expression. Her back arches and her hand strays from her side to grip him through his pants. His groan is loud as his hips punch forward at the contact. She’s now on a mission to kill his reserve as she strokes him though the pants. The wicked grin on her face makes it obvious.
I’m so turned on I might be able to come without any help, but I want Finn’s hands on me even if it’s the very last time. I grab his right wrist and guide it up my thigh to my soaked panties and pray he’ll take over. Zero coaxing is required from me once his fingers find me wet. He strokes over the panties with slow thumb pressure, building me more slowly than I like.
“Finn.” It comes out a breathy plea.
“What do you want, baby?” his voice grumbles in my ear.
“Your fingers inside me. I need to come. I need you to make me come.”
His hand fumbles with my panties as he frantically searches for the exact spot I need him. As his first finger enters me, I squeeze my nipple through my shirt and bra as hard as I can and grind against his hand. I positioned myself so that every time I move against his fingers my ass strokes his cock. So to keep me moving, he has to keep his fingers moving inside me. This goes on for a few minutes as we watch the man drop his pants, climb on the table, roll a condom on and penetrate the girl in one hard, quick thrust.
She cries out and wraps her legs around his hips as he pushes into her over and over and over. She’s stunning to watch with her head thrown back, mouth open as she moans, and her beautiful breasts pressed against his skin. He’s equally sexy as his tight ass flexes with each stroke. Every muscle in his body is taut and shaped to perfection.
I’m almost lost to the vision in front of me, to Finn’s hand in my panties, and his hard on behind me when he growls out in my ear, “You’ve got to stop or I’ll come in my pants.”
“I’ll stop moving if you put your thumb on my clit,” I whisper back, capturing his earlobe with my teeth.
His fingers shift and the second his thumb connects I go off, bucking and moaning against his thighs and body as he holds me. Intense pleasure rolls through me in waves. Delirious from my orgasm, I drop to my knees in front of him with no thought to where we are and release his throbbing cock. His eyes are glazed as they watch my mouth swallow the swollen head. I bob a total of five times before he tries to pull me off. I refuse to move, now wrapping my hand around his shaft, sucking harder until he shoots his hot, sticky liquid down my throat. I continue sucking and bobbing more slowly now until the pulsing ceases. Then I clean him with my mouth and tuck him back into his clothes. The couple in the scene room are still going at it. Her cries growing louder by the second. I step back behind him and go back to rubbing his shoulders until they finish.
Once the scene ends, I tug him by the hand back to my office. As soon as we are through the door he throws the lock, undoes his pants, and let them hit the floor around his ankles. He snatches me against him and kisses me with a force I’ve never felt. Before I can say a word, he spins us and pushes my back against the door. He drags my skirt up to my waist and rips the panties clean off me. The burn from where the fabric tore on my tender skin does little to distract me.
I lift one of my legs to curl around his hip; the other balancing precariously on my sky high heels. He shoves his boxers down and enters me roughly, taking me hard and fast. His arms holding me close, he pumps into me with a fervor I’ll never get enough of. His grunts echo in my ear as he sucks and nips on my neck. He’s clearly lost control of himself and is fucking me so hard we may make a dent in this door. I’m sure my whole staff and some of the members can hear my screams as I come not just once, but twice. The grooves in the design of the door are going to be permanently etched into my skin and while painful as I bang against them, it also brings about a different sort of pleasure. This is a wild hedonistic pleasure born from need and overwhelming desire. Our skin continues to slap together carrying a rhythm all its own.
As I draw closer to my next orgasm, he must feel it, because he increases his pace.
I chant, “Finn. Oh god. Finn, Oh god. Finn!”
He comes inside me on a fiery rush and collapses against me, pinning me harder to the door as my muscles clench around him. The wood is cool against my overheated skin, and I’m spent as my legs slips from his hip, foot landing on the floor. Boneless like a jelly fish, my legs struggle to hold me up. He pulls out slowly, and jerks his boxers and pants back up over his flaccid cock.
In a soft voice I mention, “The bathroom is behind you through that door if you need it.”
I point to the open door across the room. He leaves me standing there without a word, so I snatch my ravaged panties from the floor and toss them in my wastebasket. He comes out a moment or two later and won’t look me in the eyes. I walk around him to the bathroom where I clean myself up. Then I return to face him.
The tortured look he gives me is not one you’d expect from a man who just came for the second time in less than an hour. My stomach rolls at the realization of his regret. It’s obvious that’s what he’s feeling.
“I hate myself for what just happened. That’s not me. I can’t believe how rough I was with you.” Instead of enjoying what we did, he feels guilt, and my heart plummets at his confession.
I step forward close enough to touch him again. “I loved every second of it. If not, I would have stopped it. You enjoyed it. Why are you questioning yourself about this? We did nothing wrong.”
“I let you suck my dick in front of strangers. I fingered you to orgasm so the people around us could watch. What the hell?! That’s not me, not who I want to be. I’m sorry for all of it.”
He strides around me and leaves my office, while I drop to one of my chairs and fall apart, sobbing so hard I can’t see two feet in front of me. Not even five minutes later James is there on his knees between my legs, arms wrapped around me as I cry. He doesn’t say a word; he just holds me. This should be Finn holding me, not James, but I’m needy enough in this moment to take the comfort from a friend. Once I’m calm, James drives me home and tells me to take the next night off, so I do. I spend the next couple of days holed up in my studio painting away my heartbreak.
Chapter Nine: Darcy
Finn walked out on me over a week ago and I’m still not sleeping well, so when my phone rings at 6:30 a.m., I groan with exhaustion as I answer it.
“Darcy. It’s Agnes.”
“Hi, Agnes. Is everything okay?”
“Not really, dear. Georgia had a rough night. The doctor would like to meet with you this afternoon if you are able to be here
.”
“What time?”
“Around five o’clock if you can.”
“I’ll be there. Agnes, thank you for calling. Tell Georgia I love her and I’ll be there today.”
“Okay, dear. I’ll still be here when you get here. Oh, and don’t bring her anything to eat. She hasn’t been swallowing so well. I don’t want you to waste your money.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” I quietly respond. I always bring Georgia meals or treats when I come. I love to see her eyes light up when she realizes I brought one of her favorites. For her to not be eating, it must be getting worse.
After the phone call, I roll out of bed and prepare for my day. Then I drive to my office to sign off on time sheets so I can leave town. I inform James and Charles where I’ll be and drive the two hours north to see my sister.
I arrive early and walk to the community room. This is usually where I find her during the day, doing some kind of craft, playing checkers or watching television with her friends. She’s not there and none of the other residents have seen her, so I go to her room. As I cross the threshold, my heart drops. My sweet Georgia is lying in bed watching cartoons. She’s not out of her pajamas, and she’s very quiet. On a normal day cartoons make her giggle non-stop. I can usually hear her down the hall as I approach.
“Hey, baby sister!” I croon, trying to get a rise out of her.
Usually, this is when she huffs, I’m not a baby, don’t call me that. Instead, her eyes turn to me briefly and back to the television, and she doesn’t give me a hello.
“Georgia,” I say this time as I sit on the edge of her bed like I did when she was a little girl. I run my fingers in soft strokes through the choppy bangs across her forehead. They’re finally growing out, but I made the staff hide all the scissors so she wouldn't cut her own hair again. Her eyes shift back to me almost as if she’s waiting for me to talk to her.
