Passionate Kisses

by Various

  All my senses are telling me that I need this man to possess every part of me. I need him to do it now. From underneath him, I start thrusting against him. Slowly at first, moving in circles between each thrust.

  Ryan takes control of our rhythm and starts driving in with punishing force. With every drive in, he hits a sweet spot. Like an addict looking for a high, I push harder and faster, looking for it, searching for it, needing it.

  He flips us over so that now I’m on top and he is underneath me. Still straddling him, I sit upright while he holds my hips. Pressing down on his hard muscled chest, I throw my hips into play and slam down on him harder and harder. It feels so damn good.

  I feel his eyes on me, watching me. I sit up and lift my hands to my hair, throwing back my head while still grinding into him, hitting that sweet spot over and over again; his hands take both my breasts, rolling both my nipples. I am on the cusp of pain and pleasure.

  "My God. You’re eating me alive," Ryan moans. I almost don't hear him. I have reached the place of no words, just pure, simple sensation.

  Each time my hips grind into his, I feel the warm honey spreading inside my body. I feel the coil of desire getting tighter and tighter. Each time his hands move, I feel an electric pulse, his heat leaving a trail of fire across my skin.

  "Nora. I'm going to come." Ryan grabs my hips, his voice desperate.

  "I'm close. It's okay. Come. Come inside of me." I think I'm yelling, but I'm not even sure.

  I slam down again on his pelvis and Ryan goes rigid.

  "Fuuuck!" he yells, as his release takes over his body.

  That pushes me over the top and I lose it. I scream because it feels so good, so damn good. Throat raw, nerve endings frayed, my world explodes around me. His hands reach up and grab me, pulling me down on top of him.

  I come back to reality to the sounds of our panting and the smell of sweat and sex. Ryan's skin is cooling off, but where we are touching is still hot and slick. I don't want to end this. I don't want to break our silence and reenter the world of words.

  Ryan shifts underneath me, making more room for the both us. With my head on his chest and our bodies entwined, I drift off to blissful sleep.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  "Are you kidding me? I can't wear this out in the world?" I’m astonished at the outfit Ryan has put together for me. Impressed with how I look, but still shocked.

  I’m wearing a micro-mini soft, black leather skirt that barely covers my ass, fish net stockings that leave plenty of skin between where the stockings stop and the skirt begins, a loose red mid-drift shirt, and boots. I look hot, but a little too European-prostitute-hot for my comfort level.

  "In what universe is this an okay outfit to wear when I'm not charging by the hour?" I turn to Ryan in our fitting room.

  "Damn, Young. You look so, so, so fuckable!" Ryan says with awe in his voice.

  "Ryan! Focus. You need to answer my question." I throw a rejected shirt at him.

  "Huh. What? What universe? Mine, baby." He smiles a salacious, wicked smile. "In my universe, this is the perfect outfit for where we’re going." His eyes draw up and down my body, finally meeting mine. They’re hungry, his desire is palpable.

  "Seriously? You want me to wear this, not knowing anything about where we’re going?"

  I turn back to the mirror. I have to admit, I do look hot, but now my nerves are getting to me about what on earth we are doing tonight.

  "Come on. Let's get out of here before I throw you down and do you right here in the dressing room," Ryan growls in my ear behind me. "Here, let me help you take it off."

  "Get back, you thug!" I slap his hand away, laughing. "You wait in the hall. I’ll dress in real clothes and see you out there."

  I shove him out the door. What the heck does he wear if I'm wearing this? Sighing, I start to peel the outfit off. What the hell am I doing? I shake my head. Taking a few seconds to stare at myself in the mirror, I reflect on the last few weeks. I think I can definitely say that I have jumped off the cliff. The question is, do I soar or fall flat on my face!

  Pulling back the curtain of the dressing room, I find Ryan waiting for me with a huge smile on his face.

  "Lunch?" he asks, as if everything is perfectly normal.

  "Sure." I smile back at him as we make our way to the checkout counter.

  Lunch, as it turns out, is exactly what I needed after that shopping trip. Ryan takes us to a restaurant in the square across from the hotel. So far the day has been fantastic. The next item on our agenda is back to the hotel for a nap. He has been frustratingly mum about our plans for this evening, just that they start late and go early. We must nap, but we can't have sex.

  Nope, I'm not worried at all, not me! That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. From what I can tell, we’re going to some sort of nightclub. Maybe a strip club where the customers get to jump on stage or something. Like that will ever happen.

  So far, all I can get out of him is that it's not an S and M club or anything scary or violent. Still, I have no idea what I'm in for. I do know that I’m counting down the hours and am overly ready to get this secret revealed.

  "So. Since we can't talk about tonight. Tell me about being a lawyer," I say, coyly, hoping he will drop more hints about our plans.

  "Haha. Good tactic. Okay. Being a lawyer. Well there are many different ways one can be a lawyer. I prefer some more than others." Ryan pauses to sip his Italian soda.

  "Okay. Tell me one way you like and one way you hate."

  He pauses and then says, "I went in to law school with an idea that lawyers were the good guys. But, these days, I'm not so sure," he says, cryptically.

  "Ryan. You’re not making any sense." I put down my fork and look at him.

  He pauses and looks pained.

  "It's just, I don't know. I went back East to get away from the family thing. Went into law to help the downtrodden—super idealistic, I know. Met Hannah, fought the good fight for a while. But even then, it seemed so fake. Everyone was just crawling over each other. Who had the worst-luck client? Who had the most innocent victim? Who slept the least? It was just like California, but the inverse." Ryan sounds disgusted as he talks.

  "Oh, yeah. Reverse snobbery. Like, if you have heat and running water you're not doing enough to help the poor," I say, all too familiar with the concept.

  He whips his head around to look at me. "Exactly."

  "Yeah. Well, I had a lot of friends at Stanford that went into social work. I was thinking about it, but then they just got so righteous about everything. And you know, we weren’t all there on Daddy's dime. Some of us worked our asses off to get there."

  "No shit."

  "No shit. So, what happened? You and Hannah break up and then you moved back here? Do you really have school loans?" I dig back into my salad.

  Ryan laughs. "Yes. I didn't want to be there ‘on Daddy's dime’, as you say. I went out there to get away from that. Didn't want to feel like I was being bought."

  "Oh, and then you had to pay off the loans, so you got a job out here. So you still didn't escape. Damn, that's gotta hurt." I pop one of his French fries in my mouth. This is good food, or maybe I'm just hungry.

  I realize Ryan is not eating and just staring at me.

  "What?" I ask with my mouth full.

  "Do you say everything that pops into your head?" he asks, with his eyes narrowed.

  "Um—not usually. In fact, some people would say I was under-opinionated. What did I say?" I ask after swallowing.

  Ryan looks at me for a beat then laughs out loud. "You're fun, Young. Strange and not PC, but fun." He polishes off his soda and sets it down.

  "Do you hate working at your family's law firm? If you had your choice, what kind of law would you like to practice?" I'm still a little baffled at his reaction to me.

  “If I had my way, I think I’d like to be a DA,” Ryan blurts this out and looks almost as shocked as I do.

  "Really? I kind of had you pegged for
the other side."

  "I know." He visibly cringes. "I watched that too much growing up. And in New York it was worse. That's another reason I came out here. I just needed a place to regroup. Uncle Phil's firm was as good a place as any. Thought I might like the business end of it, contracts, deals, stuff like that. I like the work, hate the people."

  "You sound like me!" I say, laughing a little. And here I thought I was the only one.

  "I think I'd like to try my hand at the DA's office. But I’m just not sure how to make that work, yet. So, in the meantime, working off the debt is not a bad thing."

  He looks away from me, almost embarrassed. I sit back, letting the food settle in my stomach, giving him space. The sun warms my skin and I yawn; with my happily full stomach I will have no trouble sleeping for our mandatory nap.

  ~~~~~~~~

  We park the bike in a dark lot next to what looks like a warehouse. The lot is more or less full, a good sign according to Ryan. We are dressed to the nines in a 'I'm a slut' way. Ryan is wearing tight jeans, a white button down, collar open with the sleeves rolled up. He looks sexy as hell. Whatever happens tonight, I’ll need to keep my eye on him; no matter where we end up, women are going to be throwing themselves all over him.

  "Okay look. There are rules," Ryan finally starts. "Women are in charge. Nothing can happen without your approval. And vice versa with other couples. We’re just here to have fun and look around. We’re not hooking up or switching." He lets out a shaky breath.

  "Hook ups? Switching? Jesus, Ryan, where are we? At some key party?" I stare at him, wondering what the hell he’s gotten us into. What have I unknowingly agreed to?

  "No. It's not a key party. Just know we are here to have fun. Nothing is going to happen that you don't want. Okay? We need a safe word. If either of us says it, we drop everything and stop immediately."

  My heart is pounding so loudly in my ears I can barely hear him. Safe words, switching, hook ups. I feel sick with nerves. I kneel down and put my head between my legs.

  "Oh, Jesus, Nora. Are you okay?" Ryan pales.

  "I'm okay. I'm just a little nervous. I wish I knew what the hell we were doing," I say, sitting up.

  "You ready?"

  "Now or never. Let's go." I stand up and push my shoulders back. I can do this.

  We’re somewhere in the industrial part of the city. The streets are dark and quiet. There is a dull thumping coming from the building we’re approaching.

  "Periwinkle," Ryan says.

  "What?" I stop and gape at him.

  "Periwinkle. The safe word. Either of us says it, it means stop. Got it?" Ryan looks serious now.

  "Periwinkle. Got it," I say, feeling not as sure as my words sound.

  The doors open as we approach and there is a large man who looks like a bouncer from a mobster movie holding it open for us. I nod my head at him as we pass. There’s a small, enclosed office with an older woman wearing a bright red teddy smoking a cigarette inside. There are several butts on the ashtray on the desk.

  "Hello, welcome to The Phoenix," She says in her smoker's voice. "You look great, honey, they're going love you in there," She rasps at me.

  Ryan starts to fill out some paperwork and I look around a bit. There isn't anything to see. The walls are white drywall and grey, worn out carpet on the floor. Other than Mr. Bouncer guarding the door and Mrs. Smoker encased in glass, there is nothing here.

  "So, you know the rules. Lady's choice—always. Bring your booze, smoking only in the front. Have fun, kids. Oh, and I almost forgot, tonight is mask night. Here you go." She sounds almost bored, which is a striking contrast to how I feel at the moment.

  She passes Ryan two small packages in plastic, he opens one of them and hands me a black, feathered mask. Ryan puts his black matte cardboard mask on. When we are both satisfied with our masks, Ryan nods. Mr. Bouncer walks across the room to a well-hidden door and opens it.

  Still reeling that I didn't see the door, Ryan drags me into what I now know as The Phoenix. I don't know what I was expecting, but this looks like your average nightclub. There is a long bar with stools against the wall to the right and small round tables surrounding a dance floor. The only indication that anything is other than completely normal is two poles on the dance floor. I wonder how that will fit in later. Ryan tells me that the night is young and the action won't start up until after midnight. It's almost ten now, so I guess we’re still in early evening.

  "Do you want a glass of wine? I brought a bottle." Ryan still sounds a little nervous.

  "Yes please. Ryan is this—" he cuts me off.

  "Just wait. I want to show you." He covers my mouth with his finger, sparking jolts into my system.

  We head to the bar and he hands over a bottle to the bartender, a potbellied bald guy in a grey T-shirt, sans mask. He puts a large piece of tape on the bottle and writes a number on it. He pulls out two beer cups and writes the same number on the cups. Finally pouring the wine and handing the cups back to us, he gives Ryan a small card.

  "If you lose the cups, just bring me this. I can't let you take it home, so drink it here," He tells us without a smile.

  Ryan takes the card and slips it in his pocket while I reach for my beer cup of wine. The wine is cold and sweet, the alcohol warming my insides immediately.

  "Oh, this is nice. Good call on the wine," I tell him, almost finishing my first cup. Ryan laughs a little, takes the cup from me and asks the bartender for a refill.

  We walk over to the dance floor and settle into a cocktail table. There’s a small group of people dancing, all in various degrees of dress. One woman looks like she’s in sweats and boots, another just has on small shorts and a bra. They too sport feathered masks. The men seem to all wear jeans and some sort of shirt, open collar, thin T-shirts, a few baseball shirts. Boots or dress shoes seem to round out their outfits along with their plain masks.

  There are definitely more men than women here. The few women on the dance floor are clumped together, as is typical of women out clubbing, putting on a great show for the rest of us. All of them are dancing with sexy moves, gyrating their hips, moving their hands up their bodies, and pressing their breasts together.

  Some even dance together, belly-to-belly or butt-to-butt. The men wander the edges, almost pacing, watching. I settle in my chair and let the alcohol seep into my blood. Ryan is watching me; I can feel his eyes on me as I look around.

  Just as I am feeling the tension dissipate, with the help of the second glass of wine, I hear a soft moan behind me. I turn and see a man sitting in a chair a few tables away.

  It takes a minute to fully process what I’m seeing. His jeans are down around his ankles, and there is a woman with her head between his legs. Her mask is shoved up haphazardly on her head. Holy shit, she’s giving him a blowjob right here in the bar! His eyes are closed with his head thrown back. Her face is buried between his thighs, bobbing up and down at an alarmingly fast rate. He moans again.

  I turn, eyes wide, back to Ryan. His eyes are smiling as he watches my reaction.

  "Uh—I guess that's why we’re here and not downtown somewhere?" I deadpan as best I can.

  He burst out laughing. "Well, no one ever said you were dumb."

  I turn back and watch the couple. I have never seen this before. I've done it, but never watched it. Maybe it's the mask I'm wearing, or maybe it's just the scene, but I can't take my eyes off them. The man has a serene smile on his face. I can't see the women's face as she is on her knees facing away from me.

  They both seem totally into what they’re doing and act completely oblivious to the fact that we are watching them. Or that they’re doing this at a cocktail table! He reaches up and grabs her hair, holding her head. It's such an intimate act, but it turns me on.

  Suddenly Ryan is at my side, kissing my neck, sending tingles of pleasure down my spine. The man starts to breathe so hard I hear it over the music. The woman's knees open more and her hand reaches down between her legs. Oh. My. God. I
think she’s masturbating!

  "I don't know about you, but I’m so turned on right now, I'm having a hard time not throwing you to the floor and having my way with you." Ryan whispers in my ear.

  His words act as an attention call to every nerve in my body. My nipples harden, my inner thighs tingle, and my knees weaken. His hand is stroking the side of my abdomen, sliding up and down my rib cage. I feel desire pooling like a coiled snake deep inside of me.

  The man starts to shake and jerk and I think he is about to come. His eyes fly open and he instantly locks on mine. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. His hips make small forward jerks into the women's mouth as he pulls her hair. All while never breaking eye contact with me.

  I can't move or look away, at this moment I’m so thankful for the mask. Ryan is behind me, kissing me, caressing me. This man, this stranger, just came in that woman's mouth while watching me watch him.

  I'm speechless, riveted. I finally turn, bringing my attention to the rest of the room. No one else seems to have even noticed this. People are still dancing and talking. A few people walk by and nod, but then keep going as if nothing is happening.

  When my eyes sweep the room and settle on Ryan, he is grinning. "What the hell?" I ask him, bewildered.

  His face immediately falls. "Um. That's okay here. That's why people come here." He looks worried.

  "Is that it? It's a nightclub where you can get blow jobs?" I ask, still stunned at what I just saw.

  "No. Come on. I'll give you the nickel tour." He grabs my hand and pulls me forward.

  Our first stop is back at the bar for refills of our wine.

  "Ryan. I'm not mad. I’m just, well, confused about where we are," I tell him so he can stop fussing.

  Truth be told, I don't know what I think. I guess I’m withholding judgment. I keep expecting this horrible secret to come out, but so far nothing I've seen comes close to what Hannah alluded to. I'm on edge waiting for the rest.

  "Okay. So here's the deal. This is a sex club. People, couples, come here to have a night out, drink, dance, meet people. And then, when they get a little frisky, they can have sex right here. It's part of the fun." He takes a deep breath. "Out here, we have your standard dance club with relaxed rules on public nudity and sexual behavior."