by J. M. Hall
Of all the places in the world, an orgy is where I felt most at home.
My dear friend Autumn was the organizer behind the event. A former escort herself, she decided that she preferred being a “madam” and taking a cut of her girls’ earnings. She eventually segued into what she called event planning -- that is, planning a series of sexual soirees for Manhattan’s elite.
She’d been the one who introduced me the world of sex work back when we were undergrads at NYU. Suffice to say, we still managed to keep in touch.
I finished my champagne and took in the scene. A bit of drinking, a bit of sex, and an opportunity to meet a new group of people. What could be better?
A second glass of champagne followed. I made my way upstairs, passing through the dimly-lit corridors into the ballroom. Here is where things were really starting to heat up. Couples lay on the sofa, lost in a sea of kisses. Clothing was removed one article at a time, until bare hands caressed the naked flesh beneath.
My cock stiffened in my pants as I watched. Something about watching people together satisfied the voyeur in me -- and thanks to the alcohol, I was quickly getting in the mood for sex myself.
“I was hoping you’d show up, Jesse.”
I recognized her touch, her perfume. Her nails grazed down my back before she cupped my ass in her palm, squeezing just enough to make me arch my back in delight. I turned around, saw none other than Autumn herself standing before me.
“There you are…” I kissed her cheek, let my hand cup the small of her back. “It’s been a while.”
“I should say the same to you. Where the hell have you been these days?”
Autumn had been working as a call girl for nearly two years when we first met in an English lit class, where I couldn’t help but notice she always had large amounts of cash in her purse. We got to know one another, and eventually, ended up sleeping together a few weeks later. Only then did she reveal what she did for a living, and her true ambition upon graduating college.
She didn’t want to be a whore forever. Eventually, she wanted to become a madam, one that sold sex on behalf of others and took a percentage of her girls’ earnings. Some might call her a pimp, but mostly, she thought of herself as an entrepreneur.
“I’ve been busy,” I said. “But I wouldn’t miss your party for the world.”
She linked her arm into mine and led me across the ballroom floor. Diamonds dangled from her earlobes, and her curled brown hair was soft to the touch. I couldn’t help running my fingers through those it -- even if she swatted my hand away.
“Don’t touch the hair,” she said. “Men have no idea how long it takes for a woman to look this good.”
“Sorry, dear.”
“It’s okay. I’m glad you made it. This is my third time planning this thing. At the end of the night, I’m looking at making a cool twenty grand.”
“Wow.” I paused, took in just how successful Autumn had become since we’d finished college. “So, what? You hire your girls to have sex with the Upper East Side’s rich and powerful?”
“Basically. Part orgy, part match-making service. All I know is at the end of the night, I walk away much, much richer.”
I admired Autumn’s entrepreneurial spirit. Like me, she’d come from modest roots. A New York City native, she was born to Russian immigrant parents in a cramped two-bedroom apartment with holes in the wall and heat that barely kept the place above freezing in the winter.
Like me, she’d used her intelligence to gain admissions to a prestigious private school and then matriculated to NYU. There, at the Stern School of Business, she’d studied finance and international business, though her dreams of working at an investment bank were dashed when the recession hit.
And so she stayed in escorting, and according to her, got to meet plenty of bankers (as clients) along the way.
“Don’t let me keep you. Go on, enjoy yourself.” She gestured at an attractive woman standing alone near the staircase leading up to the third floor. Normally, I’d have approached her, guided her up to what I knew where a warren of bedrooms on the third floor that could host more intimate activities.
“She’s beautiful,” I said, “but I was hoping to see you, Autumn.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Come upstairs with me. For old time’s sake?”
“I’m working tonight.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time we mixed business and pleasure, now would it?”
“Besides, I think there’s someone else that has his eye on you this evening.” Autumn turned me around, told me to look at the gentleman off by the fireplace. His eyes zeroing in on me as if I were prey in the wild. This man wasn’t a stranger. In fact, I’d already disrobed in front of him once already. He knew exactly what I was like in bed, because he’d watched me fuck his wife for his own voyeuristic pleasure.
“Excuse me a moment,” I told Autumn. “I need to have a word with Eric.”
“You know him?”
“He’s my high school sweetheart’s gay husband.”
* * *
“You know, the fifth floor is reserved for gay men. Plenty of college-aged rent boys for you to play with.”
“Just shut the hell up and walk me through this place?”
Eric showed up honestly wanting to have a good time. A member of the Upper East Side’s elite himself, he said he’d heard of Autumn’s parties for years, but assumed they were nothing more than urban myths. Eventually, a colleague at his bank finally told him that yes, there were in fact orgies in the Upper East Side, and one in particular that catered to every taste and sexual preference.
“This is the fourth floor,” I said, as we walked through the dimly lit hallway of open and shut bedroom doors. “Swingers and bisexuals, mostly. Mostly male-male-female pairings, though a few female-male-female ones as well.”
“So what, the men take turns fucking her before doing each other?”
“If that’s what all parties agree too,” I explained. “This kind of thing takes some level of coordination beforehand.”
“I see…”
Some couples, exhibitionists that they were, kept the bedrooms door open while they had sex. I leaned against the wall, peered through an open door and watched as a skinny blonde took two men at once: one in her pussy, the other in her mouth. They pounded her at a feverish pace, until they both came one after the other.
Another open door, another kinky scene. A man knelt naked on all fours as a leather-clad dominatrix brought a leather strap across his red ass. He cried out, face red and eyes stinging with tears. Yet at no point did he tell her stop. When she took out the glass dildo, I decided it was time to leave.
“You don’t need me to guide you through this place,” I said to Eric, who looked as if he’d just witnessed a murder. “You just walk through the house, find an open door, ask to join in.”
“It’s really that simple?” he asked.
“There’s no judgment here. For one night a year, everyone gets to take off their masks and reveal all their kinks to a group of like-minded depraved individuals. That’s that beauty of orgies -- all fucking, no judging.”
“This isn’t your first, I take it?”
“I’ve been coming -- no pun intended -- for around three years or so.”
“Interesting…”
By the time we made our way across the hall, the only thing that remained was another staircase to the fifth floor. Oddly enough, I felt an almost brotherly affinity for Eric, if for no other reason than I wanted to see him get laid. How miserable must he be, trapped in a marriage to a woman that, as a gay man, he couldn’t possibly love? Yes, he probably cared for her -- but when it came down to sex, he needed another man. Simple as that. And tonight, in a mansion of carnal delights, he finally had his chance.
“Everything you need is right up these stairs,” I said. “Remember what I told you: Have a look around, see what’s going on, then ask if you can join in. Everyone is cool here, trust me.”
&nbs
p; “Easy for you to say. You’re a professional.”
“Point taken.” I paused, wondered if I needed to remind him to use protection. “Look, not to sound like an after-school special or anything, but there are condoms in each bedroom. Help yourself.”
“I’m not sixteen, Jesse.”
“Just take it as a piece of advice from someone who’s been fucking for cash since he was twenty years old.”
Eric’s eyes wandered to the staircase, zeroing in on a few handsome men that were heading upstairs themselves. Though I wasn’t psychic, I had a vague idea as to what was going through his mind at the moment. Whether he was a top or bottom was largely inconsequential.
The poor man just needed to get laid.
He took a few steps up the stairs, then turned around one last time. “Vanessa’s here, Jesse. She’s probably in the basement.”
“The wine cellar? Or the pool?”
“One or the other,” Eric said. “Find her. Stay with her. I saw the way you looked at her back at the W Hotel. You look at her the way a husband should.”
“But she’s not mine,” I said. “She’s yours. Even if you don’t really love her.”
Eric didn’t have a response. Instead, he turned his back and continued on upstairs, where he would probably have sex with one or more men until he’d tapped himself out for good. Perhaps he’d linger until dawn, when management would eventually throw people out.
As for me? I had more important matters to tend to.
Vanessa was here. And I needed to find her before another man laid even one finger on her body.
Chapter 13
The subterranean pool was one of the mansion’s best-kept secrets.
To get there, one had to not only make it past the five-floor sex show on the upper levels, but also have the proper credentials. As with the front door of the mansion, a uniformed bouncer stood guard before the entrance to the pool, where he personally ensured that only those on the VIP list could enter the pool.
“Jesse,” I said to him. “Jesse Lockhart.”
He swiped his finger across the iPad, mumbled my last name two or three times. Then, he nodded, and stepped aside to let me enter.
This was no ordinary swimming pool. Hell, it was even larger than the one Bianca and I had been to the Parker Meridien. Twenty-five feet in length, it shimmered like a turquoise jewel, the light rippling off the brick walls as steam rose into the air.
Crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each like a cluster of fallen stars. A small sofa and matching white chairs were placed in front of the fireplace -- and that’s where I found Vanesa. She sat alone in front the marble hearth, arms folded across her chest, gazing into the crackling flames. What was she doing here? Had she joined Eric with the idea of letting him have his fun while she found a man or two of her own?
“Mind if I join you?” I asked her.
I’d frightened her out of her pensive gaze. Once she saw it was me, her face softened. A ghost of a smile spread across her lips, and it wasn’t long until she’d stood up and wrapped me in the warmest -- and tightest -- hug I’d had in a long, long time.
“I was wondering if you’d show up to this thing.”
“You shouldn’t be here. This isn’t your scene.”
“I know, Jesse. Believe me, I know.”
Several thoughts crossed my mind. How did she manage to get herself on the VIP list in order to enter the pool? And how did this slice of underground decadence manage to stay empty when there had to be at least a hundred people scattered throughout the mansion? Something wasn’t adding up, and I needed answers.
“Why are you here?” I asked her. “Is it because of Eric?”
“Another one of his adventures, yes. Seeing you have sex with me seems to have whet his appetite for something more.”
“I don’t follow…”
“He wanted to try a three-way with another man,” Vanessa said. “But I told him no. I’m just… I’m done with this. I need out.”
“And yet you ended up on the VIP list?” I said. “Pretty impressive for someone who doesn’t even want to be here.”
The door opened behind us, and Autumn stepped inside.
“Why am I not surprised you had something to do with this?” I said to her.
She smiled, gave a quick shrug. It all made sense now. Autumn, the woman behind this entire event, personally oversaw all of the applications and the final guest list. Surely, she saw Eric and Vanessa’s name, address, most likely a photo of them as well. And, as a former lover and close confidant of mine, she knew everything about me -- up to including my relationship with Vanessa.
My guess? She allowed Eric and Vanessa to attend the orgy for one reason: It would give Vanessa and me a chance to reconnect again.
If only she’d known that we’d had our own little reunion at the W Hotel just a few nights before.
“Call me sentimental, but I couldn’t resist the idea of you two getting back together again.” She looked at Vanessa and added, “You see, honey, Jesse is still in love with you. Even after the abortion -- he still couldn’t help but hope that one day, you and him would get back together again.”
“You told her everything?” Vanessa said to me.
“Why wouldn’t I? We were seeing one another for a while.”
“Yes,” Autumn agreed. “That is, until Jesse found out I was an escort and broke things off. Though I suppose I shouldn’t be too upset. One month later he ended up joining me in a foursome. And, as they say, the rest is history.”
Vanessa visibly recoiled at the thought. Her eyes glared at Autumn in a vengeful, almost bitter gaze. She hated the fact that I sold my body for cash -- hated that I’d robbed myself of the kind of Happily Ever After she thought I deserved.
“Autumn, I think Vanessa and I can handle things from here,” I said. “But thank you for facilitating all of this.”
“Don’t mention it, doll.”
“So, do you spread your legs for cash as well?” Vanessa asked her. “Or do you just take a cut of your girls’ earnings?”
“Careful, sweetheart,” Autumn replied. “Wouldn’t want to end up falling in the swimming pool head first, now would you?”
I walked over and stood between them. “This isn’t high school. No reason to get all Mean Girls up in here.”
“Suit yourself. I have other guests to attend to.” Autumn moved in, cupped my face in her hands and kissed me chastely on the lips. “Don’t be stranger.”
Once she’d left, Vanessa stared at me and shook her head.
“Honestly, she’s a lot nicer once you get to know her. And if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have been able to stay in New York after graduation. Once the recession hit, it’s not like anyone was really hiring.”
“Whatever.”
A tense silence grew between us. There was still so much I wanted to say, but the most important news was what’d occurred back at New Hope Academy. I gave her a brief update, divulging as much as I could without violating any non-disclosure agreements that Kurt was surely putting into place.
Vanessa looked stunned, horrified. The same thing that’d happened to me -- sexual assault by a member of the faculty -- had now happened to another student. And Bobby serving as principal? How could the Board of Trustees let that happen?
“Probably because he’s an outstanding educator,” I said. “At least in their eyes.”
“You never told anyone what happened?”
“Just you and Autumn.”
“So… what now?”
I wouldn’t really know any next steps until Kurt and the rest of the staff at Victory & Associates mapped out a strategic crisis communications plan, one that addressed and contained the scandal as honestly and efficiently as possible. Best case scenario was that the Academy found enough sufficient evidence to terminate this Simone woman while simultaneously giving Bobby a pink slip as well.
A statement would be issued to the press confirming both terminations, while the staff of Victo
ry & Associates would plan and execute a series of townhall meetings with parents, students and alumni to explain what had happened and how it would never happen on school grounds again.
A new screening process would be implemented for all prospective employees, and perhaps even a hotline would be set up for anyone to anonymously submit a tip of any suspected wrongdoing on campus. My mind flooded with possibilities -- but who knew which ones would actually make the cut. The Academy just needed to look proactive instead of reactive if it wanted to get through this.
“Jesse?”
“Sorry,” I said. “Running a couple scenarios through my head.”
“You don’t think that you’ll have to go back to the Academy, do you?”
“I’ve certainly considered it. In fact, it might not be such a bad thing.”
“What do you mean?” Vanessa said. “By the time the fall semester of our senior year rolled around, you said you couldn’t wait to get out.”
“I remember. But if these past few days have taught me anything, it’s that I need to stop running from my past. I need to confront it, once and for all.”
It was as if a light switched had turned on inside of me. These past few days, I’d been doing nothing but reacting to the events around me. Seeing Vanessa again; reliving the memories of what Bobby had done; even being introduced to the world of escorting by Autumn.
I had a complicated past. One could say that I had a fucked-up life, period. And who was to blame for that? Bobby, to some extent. Yet who was ultimately responsible for the state of my life in the present?
Me.
“I have to go back. I need to put this bullshit behind me, once and for all.”
“How?”
“Maybe if I can help the Academy get through this, it’ll help me put what Bobby did behind me as well.”
She didn’t have a response, but I could tell she was supportive, even proud. She bit her lower lip, took a deep breath. Before I knew it, she’d wrapped her hands around my neck and plunged her mouth onto mine. Unexpected, but definitely welcome. Graceful gentleman that I was, I ended up taking a few steps back -- at which point we both fell into the pool.
