by Six, Nicola
Audrey stood. "Say hi to the hubby," she said, before swishing through the door and closing it behind her.
"Nic, how's your day?" Greg's voice sounded easy and comfortable.
"It's fine, and yours?" I've just been fantasizing at my desk about Jack. And Audrey and I are going out to lunch soon. The usual.
"The ER has been bloody, this morning. And busy. Bloody busy!" He chuckled at his own joke. "It's Monday. A lot of car accidents. Listen, I have to run, just checking in."
"Okay, honey. Get back to patching up your patients."
"See ya."
Nicola hung up the phone. Lunch. Her stomach was rumbling. She swiveled her chair so that she was facing her computer and opened her email. She began tapping a quick message to Audrey when she noticed a new email in her inbox. The address was not familiar. JD30. The subject read Personal email address needed. She sighed. Junk email. There were no attachments indicated, though, so she clicked it open.
Nic, you left so quickly I didn't have a chance to get your personal email address. I want to be able to let you know when there are events at the club that might interest you and your husband, but for obvious reasons I wouldn't want to convey them here.
Jack
For a moment, Nicola could only stare at her computer screen, frozen. Why was he contacting her, after the way he had dismissed her last weekend? A slow burn of anger melted her frozen mind and her hands tapped a response on the keys. She hoped it came across as cold and indifferent.
Jack, thank you for offering to keep us informed. My personal email address is NTaylor. Where did you get my work email address? Yes, I would appreciate it if you would refrain from contacting me here. Have a nice day.
She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms across her chest, pouting. He has some nerve...Ooh, he's emailed back.
Your email address was not difficult to figure out. First initial, last name, @company name. Presto. But I will not contact you again at this address. Adios.
Nicola blinked at the screen for a moment, not sure what to think or feel. The indignant feeling that had engulfed her was fading quickly. She cautiously signed into her personal email and waited, busying herself with picking up papers from the floor, tidying up her desk, and filing down a cracked fingernail. She would never be effortlessly polished and breezy like Audrey, she sighed. She could doll herself up with the best of them, but most days she felt she was fairly scrappy.
The minutes ticked on. What's wrong with you? she silently admonished. You're acting like a desperate teenager! A wave of disappointment crashed over her as she signed out of her empty email inbox and reached for the phone to dial Audrey's extension, though her appetite had left with her dignity.
"How would you like to go to a Halloween party next weekend?" Greg reached to adjust his pillow but didn't look up from his book as he casually asked the question.
Nicola looked up from her own book. "Are costumes involved? I feel like we're back in college."
Greg laughed and took off his reading glasses. "Remember that one party in the dorms? There was a different drink to be had in every room on our floor, but no costume, no partaking of beverages."
Nicola did remember. She and Audrey, roommates that year, had dressed up as sexy vampires and served drinks colored by grenadine, making them look vaguely blood-like. Greg had let her bite his neck later. She snuggled closer to her husband and laid her head on his chest. His arm wrapped around her automatically.
"I remember what happened after that costume party," Nicola said, running her hand over his torso.
"Mmm, I remember, too. But seriously, do you want to go to this thing? No costume required but masks are."
Nicola rolled off of him and sat up. She knew exactly where Greg wanted to go. She had secretly gone on Jack's club's website and seen it advertised, described as a night of "Sexy, Masked fun". His marketing team needed to get more creative. But, the idea did spark more than a few fantasies, including the one Audrey had caught her having earlier.
"Where is this 'party' happening?" she asked, innocently.
Greg tilted his head and looked at her with a wicked grin. "At Jack's club, of course. He actually sent me an email to let me know about it. He says it's one of the most popular events of the year, there. Oh come on, it'll be fun!"
Nicola realized she was frowning deeply. So Jack had emailed Greg as well. He was not covertly seeking her out. He was putting them both on his club mailing list. She flopped back onto her pillows and stared at the ceiling. "Okay," she said, hesitantly. "But we have to swear we are just going to have fun. Any kind of fun we want. No rules, no jealousy. What happens in that club..."
"Stays in that club. I know, and I agree completely." Greg put his glasses back on and resumed reading, as if they weren't discussing going to what might well be a masked orgy. Just your average Saturday night, lately!
"When Audrey and I were out to lunch today, she was complaining about her sex life with her boyfriend growing routine and boring." Nicola shook her head, chuckling. "I almost suggested they double date with us to the club some night."
Greg looked over at her, his large brown eyes wide. "Holy shit, Nic, don't even joke. She's not like us, we have to keep this lifestyle completely secret. Outsiders wouldn't understand at all."
"Like us? What are we like?" Nicola demanded.
Greg relaxed and squeezed her hand. "Nothing. It's just a game, just for fun. But it's private. That's all."
After Greg lay down his book and turned out his light, after Nicola could hear his soft sleep sounds, as he lay on his side with his back to her, she felt free to brood and obsess, a regular hobby. She's not like us. What, were they in a cult? Audrey had said they were in their "dirty thirties". She was right. Nicola couldn't pinpoint exactly when things shifted into a different gear, but sex was so much easier, orgasms so readily available. Simple fantasizing and shifting the right way in her chair could send her into a state of wet bliss. She came every time they had sex, and often she had steamy dreams that woke her up in the middle of the night, her pussy hot and pulsing with need.
Why shouldn't they indulge themselves, and take advantage of all of this? And it doesn't have to be with Jack, she thought, stubbornly. There will be plenty of hot men at the club to play with. Why not go and play?
She smiled as she drifted off to sleep, imagining the fun they were going to have.
Greg unpacked the bag of Chinese food that had been delivered, whistling under his breath. Nicola watched him from the kitchen doorway. It was only seven o'clock, but they had to get ready to go to the masked ball after they ate.
"Come on, grab a plate," Greg called merrily to her. "Don't go telling me you're not hungry. We need to fuel up for tonight's festivities! Also, we have to eat if we're going to have cocktails. And I have a feeling we're going to have a few of those."
Nicola moved to take a plate of steaming food that he had dished up. "Look at you, you're all excited." She was excited, too. The nervous energy buzzing around like bees in her stomach was going to make "fueling up" difficult. What was going to happen? Who would they meet, and what would they do with them? What might be done to her? She tried to push these thoughts aside, as she could feel sexual energy swelling between her legs. She quickly set her plate down on the table and sat down in a chair, squirming slightly.
Greg didn't notice. He shoveled a few forkfuls of lo mein into his mouth and reached for a packet of duck sauce. "I forgot to tell you," he said after swallowing, "I bought us masks. Yours is black. Mine is silver. They're hot."
"The masks are hot?"
"I guess what I'm saying is we're going to look hot in them," he said, grinning.
Nicola laughed and dug into her dinner. Greg was always able to diffuse any uncomfortable situation with his cheerful, easy humor. She reached for an egg roll. "What are you going to wear with the mask?" she asked.
"As little as possible. I'm thinking tighty-whities and a pair of combat boots. Or roller skates. I haven't decided which."
They giggled their way through dinner.
Nicola stared at herself in the full-length mirror in their bedroom. Her hair was down and styled long and straight, so when she performed a sexy little shimmy it swung in a glossy, auburn curtain, nearly reaching the small of her back. She had made up her eyes with plenty of dark liner sweeping across her upper lids, and loads of lush, black mascara. She slipped her mask over her face and turned this way and that to admire the short, silky black dress that skimmed her body. It had straps that crisscrossed in the back, making a bra an impossibility. She wore thigh-high sheer stockings with strappy black heels and as she slipped on the black mask that Greg had bought and blew a kiss at her reflection, she knew she looked more alluring than she ever had.
Greg stopped short in the doorway. "Holy hell, Nicola. You look...Absolutely incredible."
She turned and smiled coyly at him. "Yes, I am pretty adept at transforming myself. With the right tools..."
Greg strode over to her and ran his hands up and down her waist. "Nooo," he breathed into her ear. "You're always stunning. But tonight..." His hands ran across her stomach and slid south, roaming over her inner thighs and causing a zing through her and a familiar heat to begin to build.
"Stop," she moaned, as he slipped one hand up under her dress and began to push her panties aside. "You're going to get me all rumpled! Attack me later."
"Oh, I will," he promised, sighing with disappointment. "How do I look? Now that we've determined you will be the belle of the ball. Wait, let me put on the mask for the total effect." He reached behind him to retrieve his mask from on top of his jacket that he had laid out on the bed. He slipped it on, and Nicola gazed at him, impressed. Greg was gorgeous in well-fitting dark jeans and a gray, button down shirt with a few buttons undone at the top, showing a hint of his chest. His shirt matched the mask, which didn't hide his melting eyes or thick brown hair.
Nicola put her hands on his shoulders. "You're going to be very popular tonight," she murmured into his ear. She heard him draw in a quick breath but stepped away before he could kiss her or throw her down on the bed. There was time for all of that later.
The taxi arrived at nine o'clock. They agreed not to drive, as cocktails were definitely on the evening's menu, and neither of them wanted to worry about anything. It was a night to let go and feel free to do as they pleased. As they settled into the back of the cab and Greg leaned forward to give the driver directions, Nicola felt her heartbeat quickening. Was it really going to be a night of "anything goes"? Or would something go wrong? She felt sexy and mysterious in her mask. Greg sat back and grinned at her. "Let the games begin!" he said. Then he leaned to whisper in her ear "Damn, I'm getting horny already."
Nicola felt her own shiver of sexual current running through her, especially as she slid her hand over Greg's pants and felt him grown hard against it. She unzipped him and reached inside, fondling his dick just to hear him try to stifle a groan. She smiled as his head fell back against the seat and he took his jacket and threw it over his lap to cover up her hand, which was working faster now. "Oh god, Nic, you get me so hard," Greg groaned, audibly this time. He carefully moved away so that she had to extract her hand and then he pulled her close to him.
"Come sit on my lap," he whispered. Her eyes flicked to the driver in the front seat, but Greg pulled her onto his lap anyway, draping his coat over both of them. "Shhh, he's not watching us." She felt herself swelling with desire and anticipation of what he was about to do. She felt him hike up her dress and push her panties aside, lifting her slightly as he did so. Then she felt the tip of his cock pushing into her and she slid down his hard shaft and nearly moaned out loud at the exquisite torture of it. Every nerve ending was alive and feeling the pleasure of him push her down over him. She squirmed slightly and he held her still for a moment, kissing her neck and reaching to press his thumb against her clit as he moved ever so slightly, torturously inside of her. "Yeah, yeah baby," he whispered with hot breath into her ear, as his thumb pressed and circled her most sensitive area.
The bumps and swerves of the cab sent jolts of pleasure through her and brought quiet gasps from Greg as they both began to lose control and Nicola felt him grasping her hips to lift her up and down faster and harder. She bent over to bury her face in his jacket, hoping to muffle a cry as she came, which sent Greg into spasms inside of her.
Greg lay back, catching his breath and Nicola slid off of his lap and pulled her skirt down under his jacket. She was dripping wet and still shuddering as he zipped up his pants and smiled down at her. "Now that's how you get an evening going."
Nicola jerked her head toward the cabbie. "Do you think he knew what we were doing?" she whispered.
The cab was pulling into the parking lot of the club, past the security guards. Greg laughed out loud. "I think if he knows what kind of place this is, it doesn't matter. Our reputations with this particular cab driver are shot!"
Once inside, Nicola darted off to the bathroom to clean herself up, reapply her lipstick and fix her hair. Greg said he would meet her at the bar. The ladies room was gorgeous and modern, floor to ceiling black tile and lit mirrors. As Nicola was fixing her mask in the mirror two women darted in, giggling and gabbing as they went into their separate stalls. "It's packed out there," one laughed. "So many masked men, I could just die!"
"Yeah, but it's hard to know who's good looking when they're wearing masks," the other complained.
"Pick one with a great body. Who cares what they look like under their mask."
"I thought I saw the owner, earlier. I know he's good looking!"
"Are you kidding? He's more than good looking. I wonder if he's going to participate in any action tonight."
Nicola's breath caught as she listened to this conversation. Jack was at the club that night. Stop it, Nicola, you're not here to see him. Stop it. I wonder where he is, exactly...
"I would kill to be a part of that," one of the woman said, emerging from her stall and heading for one of the brushed chrome sinks. "Can you imagine?"
Yes, yes I can. Nicola grabbed her purse, flashed a smile at the woman beside her and hastily ducked out of the ladies room.
She found Greg at the bar, yucking it up with another masked couple. The dance floor was swarming with revelers, all dressed in sexy attire and teeming with sexual energy. The jacuzzi and elevated group shower were both occupied by naked partiers.
There was flesh everywhere she turned.
Nicola perched on a bar stool and signaled the bare-chested male bartender to order a martini. Greg grinned and slipped an arm around her. The other couple he had been talking to waved and turned to make their way out to the dance floor.
"What do you think?" Greg asked. "Jack said it was one of their most popular nights of the year."
"He did, didn't he?" Nicola said, picking up the drink that the bartender had set before her. "I wonder if he's even here, tonight," she added, casually.
Greg shrugged, his eyes scanning the club, taking it all in. There were many gorgeous bodies for him to admire. Nicola wondered what was going through his mind. Her own mind was racing. Where is he? Stop it, Nicola, just have some fun, tonight.
The time passed quickly. Various masked couples approached them to chat, and they hit the dance floor several times. Greg was drawing more attention than she was, Nicola noted, feeling a strange mix of pride and awkwardness, watching the women float around him, flirting and posturing. Their partners were more than happy to turn their attentions on Nicola, and some were tall, and good looking enough, but they all seemed the same to her.
Back at the bar after dancing with one man who thought he was very smooth, and had started running his hand up her dress to feel her ass, Nicola felt a pang of frustration. She had quickly stepped out of reach of his roaming hand, because while this was supposed to be a fun night of "anything goes", she had zero interest in this guy. Greg joined her and took a swig from his glass.
"Sorry, I should have been payi
ng more attention out there. You okay?"
Nicola nodded, feeling silly. They were in a sex club. Who cares if a man she's dancing with cops a feel. But she didn't want his hands anywhere near her. "I'm fine," she said, smiling. "I just need another drink and to loosen up and go with the flow."
"Not if you don't like someone," Greg said. "Just because we're in a sex club doesn't mean you have to do anything."
Nicola looked sidelong at him. "But, you would like to eventually do something."
Greg smiled. "Sure, don't you?"
Nicola signaled the bartender. This time a bare-breasted woman bounced over. Nicola wondered how Greg could act so cool when all of this surrounded them. She looked at him. He was gawking a little. But he was allowed. He was allowed to do anything he wanted.
"Hey, what's up?" She felt a hand on her arm and turned. Grinning at her was a cute young man - so young, in fact, that his black mask made him look like Batman's sidekick. It's Robin without the cape, she thought, giggling inwardly.
"Hi there," she said, sweetly, and turned back to see Greg watching, amused.
The young man tapped her arm. "Hey, have you been here before? I don't think I've seen you here before."
"Do you come here a lot?" Nicola asked.
He nodded. "Whenever they have events where single men are allowed. Sometimes only couples can be here. It's awesome, right?" He picked up his beer. Nicola wondered if he had used a fake ID to get in.
"Are you sure you're old enough to be drinking that?" she asked, taking a motherly tone to discourage him from hitting on her.
"I'm Chris," the boy continued, undeterred. He leaned in and caressed her arm with his free hand. "You're smoking hot. Wanna dance?"
Nicola turned to glare at Greg who was now grinning so wide she thought his face might split. "He's a baby," she mouthed.
"Go on, go dance," Greg laughed. "Young is good!"
