The server brought my drink and water and I immediately took a sip, the fruity flavors making me want to be on a beach with sand between my toes and the sun blanketing my skin. I looked back at the masked stranger. His eyes were a deep forest green, and he hadn’t taken them off of me.
I licked my lips, the sweetness of my drink still lingering, and his eyes darkened. “Have you been to the back room yet?” he asked.
I gave him a suspicious look. The back room? What was he talking about? I’d never seen anything but the dance floor and bathrooms. Furthermore, I’d been coming to the Sin and Sass party for years and I’d never heard about any special rooms. Was this a new thing? “I didn’t know there was one.”
He took my hand, his palm soft and grip firm, guiding me through the throngs of people. I hadn’t had much to drink, and was fully aware this could be a bad situation. I didn’t even know the guy. But I did know some jiu jitsu, so I decided I was safe enough for now, and could see where things went. I followed him, connected with one hand, my drink in the other. I was thoroughly enjoying the view of his ass.
We came to a black door that, despite having been to this club more times than I could count, was attached to a room I didn’t even know existed. He knocked in a specific succession, two light taps, one harder, and a pause before a hard knock again.
Someone opened a slit in the door and I had to restrain myself from asking for the bootlegged liquor in my best 1920s gangster voice. The person behind the door said, “Password?”
I widened my eyes. I’d been joking with my initial comparison, but it really was like attempting to gain access to a speakeasy during prohibition!
Still holding my hand, my masked partner said, “Ménage.”
I arched a brow. That didn’t seem like a very secure password. It probably should have included random numbers and letters. “Ménage” was likely being thrown around all over Sin and Sass tonight.
A lock unlatched and the door opened. I followed my partner inside, trailing behind him.
The room was dark, decorated in deep merlot tones accented by black. It was crowded, everyone in masks. Some had full face masks, other’s half. As we walked through the main room, I noticed a lot of skin—people were naked, or mostly naked. We wove our way through the throng of people; the common thread among Ménage attendees so far seemed to be sex—there was a lot of kissing and fondling going on. We passed a couple on a chair who were making out, the girl’s shirt completely off. Others were walking around in lingerie that hid very little. Some were in lingerie that hid nothing. One guy was wearing tighty-whities with a werewolf breaking out of his crotch. I’m adventurous when it comes to sex, but if a dude dropped trou and was sporting a pair of those, it would give even me pause.
As I took in my surroundings, my heart rate increased more and more. I was a hard person to shock, but this came close. I’d heard of sex parties, but I’d never been invited to one, and certainly didn’t think they existed in a place like Winchester. In fact, I hadn’t been one-hundred percent sure they existed outside of Eyes Wide Shut. I felt like I’d just been thrown into central casting for the sequel. I was fascinated, turned on, and trying to take it all in so I wouldn’t miss a thing.
We paused on our way by the first room. My eyes were huge and I almost forgot to whisper as I hissed, “Oh my God! Are they about to have sex? Like, real, actual intercourse? In front of everyone?”
The girl was wearing a full face mask, and so was the guy. She was completely naked. He was naked except for a pair of leather pants that looked painted on. The pants were untied at the crotch, and he was hanging out and at full attention. It was obvious he hadn’t been drinking any milk, and the hormone problems that had been plaguing all the cocktail weenies I’d run into recently weren’t an issue for him. At all.
“They are,” my partner whispered back.
As we stood there watching, the man bent her over a table, reached down, rubbed her clitoris, and then pushed into her. She moaned as he slowly started to pull his length back out, and then pushed in again.
I stared, and felt like I didn’t blink once during the whole scene. The situation was so far out of my comfort zone, and I was having a hard time trying to reconcile that with the wetness between my legs. Giving up that much control in a public setting was something I’d never done, and not something I thought would turn me on at all, but apparently it did. We watched until the girl started moaning with her orgasm and the man followed soon after.
My partner still held my hand as we moved down a hall. We paused as we passed by a room where several people dressed as clowns, with full makeup and festive brightly colored wigs, were having sex, all in a group.
“What’s the appeal here?” I whispered again.
“Anonymity,” he answered. “The makeup helps people feel more freedom to let their wild side show.”
I was Mistress A, and supposed to be all-knowing about all things sex, but some of these things I’d never even heard of. I needed to do more studying, and more research because it seemed there was a lot I still didn’t know.
We came to another room where people were completely covered in latex suits, and fondling each other through strategically placed holes. I shuddered even watching them—I’d be way too claustrophobic for that. Plus, I’d lose so much sweat I’d probably end up dehydrated. But I’d studied a lot of fetishes for school and latex fetishes were surprisingly common. They acted as a second skin and in a lot of cases, made the wearer feel less vulnerable, and more confident. It wasn’t for me, but I wasn’t one to judge.
The man in black pulled me along until we came to the largest room, more people in full face masks and leather. The acts of debauchery occurring were many, and I had to take them in one at a time. One man was in the process of blindfolding a woman and looked like he was getting ready to tease her to orgasm. In another area, a woman was sitting on a chair with a hole in the center of it. A toy was attached, and being controlled with a remote by the people standing around her.
“How did you hear about this place?” I asked the man with his fingers still threaded through mine. I was Mistress A for fucks sake, and didn’t even know about it. How did he?
“I got an invitation.”
“How?”
“I know people.”
I narrowed my eyes. I hated when people weren’t straight up. Why couldn’t he just answer the dumb question? “What’s with all the mystery?”
He nodded toward the other people in the room. “It’s a masquerade. Mystery is the main event.”
I snorted a laugh. “I would definitely not say mystery is the main event here.”As I continued examining the room, a man sauntered up to us. He was totally naked, and once my eyes fell, I couldn’t stop looking. He truly had the biggest dick I’d ever seen, and that included any I’d seen in porn.
“Hi,” he said, his voice low and velvety.
“Hi,” I breathed back, trying to sound nonchalant—like I wasn’t staring at a dick that was longer than a sub sandwich.
I looked at his size, and wondered if a woman could really accommodate something of that length and girth. I was pretty sure they could. I mean, babies come out of vaginas and most babies were slightly bigger than his dick, but birth is painful, sex shouldn’t be. A woman walked up to him and started rubbing her hands all over his body, both hands drifting down and gripping around his length. Two fists didn’t come close to covering him. She called over another girl for an extra set of hands, and together, they went to work.
My gaze trailed from them to a group of people in a corner of the room spread out on pillows, all naked. With each new scene my eyes landed on, I was getting more and more turned on. Watching porn was one thing, but actually seeing it in person was a completely different sensation. I was shocked and excited, turned on and uncomfortable, but for the life of me, I couldn’t stop looking.
I caught my partner’s eye. A current bounced between us as he leaned over, his breath hot on my pulse point. He trail
ed a line of kisses up the side of my neck, over my jawline. “You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice husky.
I moaned something that I meant as a thank you, but his hand was currently moving around to my breast and I was having a hard time making words. His finger started tracing my nipple, the organza of my top brushing against the sensitive spot in a rough manner, making my skin pebble. He kissed my collarbone, the warm air hitting my skin as his hands continued their sensual perusal. If this persisted, it wouldn’t be long before we were one of the acts on display.
My heart started to race and I panicked. Where was this going? Where did I even want it to go? Were we about to have sex in the middle of the room with anyone and everyone watching? Was I okay with that?
I needed to think.
I pulled out of the mystery dude’s grasp. “I need to find a restroom.”
He pointed toward a long hallway. I made my way down the corridor and found the door on the right. It was a private bathroom, and empty, thank Thor. I walked in and sat on a chair in the corner of the room. What had I been thinking? Yeah, I was a sexual creature, and yeah, I was adventurous, but I was having “more than friend” thoughts about two guys, one of which I’d never even met. I didn’t need to add another to the list. I’d originally felt that hooking up with a random stranger might help me forget the situation with Cade and Master Z. I now realized that wasn’t the case. Not only would I not be able to forget them, but I’d probably be thinking about them both during the deed, and that was just bad manners. If you’re going to be thinking of someone else while you’re having sex, you should be having sex with the person you’re thinking of.
No, I thought with a decisive shake of my head. I wasn’t okay with anything else happening tonight, even if the masked guy could seduce like it was his damn job. I might have been okay with it a few months ago, but now I had this weird hang up on Cade, and Master Z was throwing me for a loop, and I had no idea what I was doing, but I was pretty sure it shouldn’t be a stranger in the secret sex room of a club until I figured my shit out. While I appreciated the secret sex room invitation because it was great research and gave me more topics for blog posts, I was ready to end my night and go home to relax in my living room in some comfy jammies and with HGTV.
I got up and opened the door, walking down the hallway. I looked around as I moved toward our original entry point so I could say good-bye to my potential hook up and thank him for getting me into the bang-bang room, but I didn’t notice him as I made my hasty retreat. To be honest, I had no desire to go back in the rooms and possibly lose my willpower. I’d been in a long intercourse drought and doubted my self-control. The guy who had let us in the room was the same person who let me out.
I walked out the door, looking at my phone as I tapped on my ride app scheduling a pick-up. I wasn’t really paying attention, so I didn’t even see it coming.
“You’re in so much trouble,” a deep, familiar voice said.
I glanced up, my mouth dropping. What was he doing here?
As effortless as picking up a piece of candy, Cade threw me over his shoulder, and carried me out the door.
Tips and Tits: The Word from Mistress A
Horny = Happy
They seem as mythical as fairies, but there actually are things you can do to increase desire: Aphrodisiacs. Most of us have heard of things like oysters and chocolate, but I bet you didn’t know that the smell of donuts and licorice can increase blood flow to a man’s penis by thirty-two percent! In other weird smell news, the scent of licorice and cucumbers increased blood flow to a woman’s vagina by thirteen percent! Scent plays a huge part in attraction. Your pheromones have got your back, and are looking for suitable mates for you—thanks, nostril matchmakers! And let’s not forget about endorphins, the key that unlocks your orgasm-belt! Sweat and a high heart rate increase endorphins. So does working out, which, if your sex session is any good, should end in a puddle of perspiration anyway. But, if you’re not interested in getting sweaty before getting naked, pop some chili peppers. They mimic the body’s reaction to exercise by causing your heart rate to increase, and your body to perspire—you’ll sweat, but it won’t be deadlift-three-hundred-pounds-repeatedly sweat—and you’ll release endorphins as well. If you’re looking for something sweeter, and let’s be honest, who isn’t, chocolate has dopamine. The body’s natural production of dopamine is highest during orgasm; if you’re eating chocolate and coming, you’re getting an exceptionally mood inducing double shot of dopa. So girls, next time you’re looking for a perfume, try to find something donut scented. Dudes, my advice would be to start wearing cucumber.
*Update: I didn’t think I’d actually need to clarify this, but I meant the scent of cucumber, not an actual cucumber as an accessory…anywhere. If the girl you’re with wanted to screw a cucumber, she could get it from the grocery store by herself, and there are much better toys than produce.
“Hey!” I yelled, pounding my fists on his back. Five years ago, I would have been horrified at a man doing this. I would have spent the entire time on his shoulder thinking that he was about to fall over. No guy would have even attempted to pick me up. I wasn’t throw-her-over-your-shoulder-worthy then, at least, not according to the asshats I’d dated—the douchebags I had once thought cared about me, and wanted me. Now, though, I kind of regretted not being heavy enough to make the thought of picking me up obsolete. I had no idea why Cade was doing this at all. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Taking you home,” he said, making his way through the club. A few people noticed us and gave Cade fist bumps like he’d won a prize. It pissed me off.
Despite the fact that I’d been in the process of scheduling a ride, there was nothing I despised more than being told what to do. I’d do the exact opposite of what I was told just to spite the person. It was my own special way of telling them to go to hell. “I don’t want to go home,” I hissed, pounding some more. Abruptly, I became excruciatingly aware of exactly how solid his back was. Involuntarily, my hands unclenched from their fists and my palms splayed out, running over his back and the soft, cotton, white t-shirt he was wearing, feeling every bit of hard, bunched up muscle. If he was this big and hard on his back, he had to be the same in other places. I looked down noticing that I was in a prime location for viewing his jeans-covered ass, and it was even better from this angle. I was now a lot more interested in him than I had been thirty seconds ago when he’d potato-sacked me and dragged me out of the party. Still, I didn’t like being hauled anywhere, and I wasn’t pleased about being thrown over his shoulder like future French fries. “Put me down,” I said in my angriest voice.
He laughed. At my angry voice. Now I was really pissed.
“So you can go back inside and have someone take advantage of you?” His voice was incredulous. “No. Not happening.”
What. The. Fuck? “Who the hell do you think you are?”
We made it outside the club. Outdoor heaters were blazing by the front benches where people waited for rides. The place was deserted though, because everyone was still inside having a good time. He put me on the ground and held me in front of him, his hands on my waist. I looked down, rearranging my top so my boobs gave me the advantage, and lifted my eyes to his, blazing. “It’s not your job to decide what I do, or who I do it with.”
He reached up and moved his hand over my forehead, brushing back the hair that had come loose from under my wig. “You’re better than that, Brynn. Just because you don’t think you’re worth someone treating you well doesn’t mean I have to agree.”
I blinked, totally stunned. When I got my wits back, it was enough to utter, “What the hell, you tickle-dick? I know I’m worth it! I’m worth not getting sucked in by men who just want to use me. I know a lot more about that than you think I do, asshole. I spent the majority of high school with dipshits who thought they had the right to use me because I didn’t fit the same pretty mold that the other girls did. Well, I fit it now. And I’m not the one being
used anymore.”
The words came out in a rush—things I hadn’t intended to admit out loud. Few people knew about my past, fewer still would even believe it. I was a completely different person now than I had been then.
Cade’s jaw was held tight. “That’s what happened to you?” he asked through his teeth. “Boys manipulated and used you because they thought they could.”
I did not want to have this conversation. “It doesn’t matter,” I said, waving him off. “It’s in the past.”
His shoulders had a firm set to them that said he was ready to argue, and in it for the long haul. Fucking lawyers. Always ready to argue. “It matters because it hurt you, and the result of that hurt is affecting your actions now.”
I rolled my eyes. “My actions are fine. They’re exactly what I want them to be.”
Anger flashed over his face. “I know what’s happened at some of your other parties. You were damn lucky Syd was there to take care of you. I’m not letting that happen again.”
I couldn’t argue that I’d made some poor choices in the past, but I’d been smarter about it since, and wouldn’t put myself in dangerous positions. I’d taken self-defense courses and did jiu-jitsu three times a week. I watched my alcohol intake, and didn’t drink anything that I hadn’t been holding and watching the entire night. I’d learned from my mistakes and he had no right to use them against me.
I crossed my arms over my chest, glaring at him with every ounce of anger I contained. “I don’t regret my past. It made me who I am.” I wasn’t just talking about the parties in college and the guys I’d met. I was talking about high school and every man who had mistreated me then, too. It had hurt at the time. It still hurt when I thought about it. But it had made me into the person I was, and I cherished every cruel comment, every stab of pain I felt, because it meant I was alive, I was strong, and I was better than I had been before. It took courage to overcome and evolve, just like Cade had said during our discussion about fear. I was proud of who I’d become.
Chasing Brynn (A Tempting Novel Book 2) Page 16
