Sensation Fantasies 1

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Sensation Fantasies 1 Page 2

by Knight, Kimberly


  Ward slowly turned his head to look over at me. “Tonight?”

  “No,” I snorted. “An attorney at my firm goes with her husband, and invited us to go with them to the next one.”

  “Why? So we can have sex with them?”

  I drew my head back and shook my head. “No! Just to go and have fun.”

  “And have sex with other people?”

  I opened my mouth and then closed it. Would that happen? I wasn’t exactly sure what happened at sex clubs. I’d imagined everything happened. “I don’t know,” I finally admitted with a shrug.

  He turned his body toward me, no longer paying attention to the game that had returned from the commercial break. “You don’t know?”

  I shrugged again because I was uncertain about everything. “It’s not like I’ve ever been before.”

  “But you want to go?”

  I took a deep breath. “I think so.”

  He stared at me with his green eyes as though he didn’t recognize his own wife. “Are you telling me you want to start swinging?”

  My mouth opened and closed again. “I don’t know.”

  “You want to watch me fuck another man’s wife?” Ward didn’t say those words angrily but sarcastically because he thought our conversation was ridiculous.

  I never thought about Ward or I being with other people at Sensation. In my head, I thought we’d get turned on by watching—like live porn—and then he’d fuck me against a wall or something before we came home. Could I watch him pleasure another woman? I wasn’t sure that I could.

  “Not at first—”

  “Not at first?” He chuckled.

  “I don’t think you’re understanding.”

  He took a big gulp of his beer. “Then tell me.”

  “I think going would, I don’t know”—I shrugged—“turn us on, and then we’d have the best sex of our lives.”

  We stared at each other, not saying anything. “Why?” he finally asked.

  “I think it would be fun and spice things up,” I admitted.

  “Spice things up?”

  I took a deep breath. “Remember life before kids?”

  Ward snickered. “Yeah.”

  “From what I’ve read, this sex party is once a month. We can have it like a date night or something—go and pretend we’re young and dating again. Not have to worry about being quiet or the door opening, and not have the same missionary sex we’ve been doing lately.”

  “I can’t believe you want to go to a sex club.”

  “I can’t either.” We were silent again, the game on in the background. “So, do you want to go?”

  Ward thought for a moment. “Yeah, if you want to. You know I’d do anything for you.”

  “This is for us,” I corrected.

  “I guess. I mean, we could always get moves from porn.”

  I snorted. “I know, but what if this is like … an awakening?”

  “A sexual awakening?”

  I grinned. “Yeah?”

  He ran his hands down his face. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

  “I know, but it’s kinda exciting, right?”

  He snickered. “Yeah.”

  “Want to see the website?”

  “Sure.” I passed him the laptop and watched as he read everything on the website. “So, when do we go?”

  “I’ll check with Peyton on Monday.”

  “Okay.” He took a deep breath. “Well, shit, baby. With all this sex talk, fuck the game.” Ward clicked off the TV with the remote and pushed a button with another remote to turn on the stereo.

  “We’re gonna do it here?”

  He smirked. “We do have the house to ourselves.”

  I smirked back. “Yeah, we do.”

  One of my favorite present-day rock bands, Flirting with Fire, was playing from the playlist I had queued as Ward grabbed my face and brought his lips to mine. I pulled my T-shirt over my head and reached for his just as my cell phone rang on the coffee table. Our mouths broke apart, and he grabbed it.

  “Cole’s mom.” Ward handed me my phone.

  “Hello?” I answered.

  “Hey, Kiera, it’s Mona. I’m sorry to call, but Jacob says his tummy hurts and wants to go home.”

  I sighed. “Okay, we’ll come pick him up.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  We hung up, and I informed Ward, “Jake’s tummy hurts, and he wants to come home.”

  Ward nodded. “And now I understand why you want to go to a sex club.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kiera

  Cole was staying with my parents for the evening, and Whit was staying at Mickey’s again. My parents understood that we needed a night alone. They didn’t know that we were going to a sex club for the night, though. They assumed we were having a night out on the town or a quiet night at home, and I let them think that.

  “Are you nervous?” I asked Ward as he showered.

  “Should I be?”

  When I’d told Peyton that Ward and I were in for going to the next party, I was excited, but as we got ready to go, I became nervous. What was it going to be like? Who would we see? Apparently, a lot of famous people attended Sensation. Since I worked in Beverly Hills, I knew a lot myself. I would never tell who got down and dirty at a sex club, but it did pique my interest. Also, to be able to attend, Ward and I had to get tested for STDs and sign NDAs, which put Ward—and myself—more at ease.

  “I still don’t know what to think,” I admitted.

  “I think it will be … interesting but exciting.”

  I smiled as I brushed my lashes with black mascara. Ward had definitely come around since the night a few weeks prior when I’d told him we were invited. Our plan for the night was to watch, get ideas, and maybe find a quiet place in a corner if the mood struck—I had a feeling it would. Since that night I pitched the idea to him, Ward had made more of an effort to sneak in kisses here and there. We’d even done it more than missionary style; with me on top or him behind me as we laid on our sides. I supposed bringing up the fact that our sex life was more or less uninteresting was all I’d needed to do. Ward just needed a reminder that sex didn’t have to be boring because we were married.

  But even though we were starting to get on the same page, we both still wanted to go to Sensation.

  Clearly.

  Ward stepped out of the shower, and I ogled his washboard abs for a second before returning to my makeup. “What if someone propositions us?” I asked.

  He stopped toweling off his dark brown hair that was starting to turn gray on the sides. “For sex?”

  I snorted. “Well, duh.”

  “Do you want that?”

  “Again, I don’t know what I want. But porn turns us on, and this will be live porn in a way, and what if we’re making out and someone asks to touch me—or you?”

  The only rule: Ask before you touch.

  “Would you be okay if a woman touched me?” he questioned back.

  I thought for a moment. Ward and I had been together for half of our lives. I trusted him completely, and neither one of us had ever strayed. Our marriage was solid. Sure, we had a little hiccup in the lovemaking department, but that was what we were working on. So, could I watch another woman pleasure him? Would that turn me on? Could we have a threesome and go back to living our lives as though it never happened? Or would we end up joining the club and every month live out fantasies that we both had?

  Ward resumed toweling off, and I turned fully to face him. “I’m not sure. I think once we’re in the heat of the moment, we’ll know.”

  “True.”

  “Do you think you’d be okay if another man wanted to touch me?”

  “I’d be okay with another woman touching you,” he countered.

  I laughed. “I bet you would.” My phone buzzed with a text as it sat on the bathroom counter. I picked it up.

  Peyton: Be there in 15.

  “You better get dressed. They’ll be here in fifteen
minutes.”

  Ward and I were dressed and ready to go. Sensation was black-tie, and therefore, he was in a tux, and I was in a black, capped-sleeved, sequined cocktail dress that came to just above my knees. The women could dress in lingerie if they wanted, but the men had to be in tuxedos. I wasn’t ready for that and chose a short dress instead.

  The doorbell rang fifteen minutes after Peyton had texted, and Ward opened the door. I heard Peyton say, “You must be Ward. I’m Peyton, and this is my husband, Booker.”

  I stepped forward just as Ward and Booker shook hands. “Nice to meet you,” Booker said in a British accent and turned to me, engulfing me in a hug. “And lovely to see you outside of the courtroom, Kiera.”

  In the courtroom, Booker was ruthless. I hated going against him. “Good to see you too.”

  “You two ready?” Peyton asked as Booker and I broke apart.

  I looked up into Ward’s green eyes and then back to her and Booker. “As ready as we’ll ever be.”

  “Great.” She beamed.

  I stepped outside to see that a black limo was waiting for us. Ward locked the front door, and then we walked down the walkway, hand in hand behind Peyton and Booker. When I slid into the car, Lorelei was inside with Randy, but I was surprised to see two women I didn’t know.

  “Kiera! Are you ready to pop your cherry?” Lorelei questioned excitingly.

  I blinked and stopped sliding on the leather seat.

  “You’ll need to excuse her,” Randy stated, and draped his arm across her shoulders. “She does this when there are sex club newbies around.”

  I chuckled as I continued to slide in. “You should hear what she says at the office.”

  All eyes turned to Lorelei. She shrugged. “What? You all know I have no filter.”

  Everyone snorted with laughter as they agreed. Peyton and Booker slid into the car, and formal introductions were given. The two other ladies were friends of the group—Carrie and her wife, Taylor. The car pulled away from my house, and I gave Ward a nervous smile. This was really happening. In all my forty-two years, I never thought I would be experiencing something new like this. Ward squeezed my knee and smiled back.

  “So”—Peyton handed me a glass of champagne as Booker poured another—“you two must be nervous. I know I was the first time.”

  “I wasn’t,” Lorelei admitted.

  Peyton ignored her and continued, “But don’t be. If you two just want to look around, that’s cool. You don’t need to feel obligated to do anything. If it’s not your thing, the limo driver will take you home.”

  “But,” Booker cut in, “there are plenty of places that are private. So, you can walk around the property and take it all in.”

  “Thanks,” Ward replied.

  “Yes, thank you.” I agreed. “We haven’t had a night out in forever. Whatever happens, will be good no matter what.”

  “And who knows,” Lorelei said. “You two might love it like us and join tomorrow.”

  I grinned at Ward and then took a giant sip of the tart champagne.

  What were we getting into?

  The limo pulled to a stop in front of one of the nicest homes I’d ever seen in my life. The stucco mansion had stone pillars and topiary wrapped around them. Twelve or so steps were draped with a red carpet and led up to iron French doors with frosted glass window panes. It was stunning, to say the least.

  The opening of the limo door snapped me out of admiring the gorgeous house. Ward squeezed my knee again, and then we all followed Booker and Peyton out of the car. We stepped to the side, allowing Carrie, Taylor, Lorelei, and Randy to walk up the stairs.

  Peyton pulled a pearly-white card from her clutch, and handed it to what appeared to be a bouncer checking people off from a clipboard. The card had the word “SENSATION” written on it in silver, and the O of the word was a 3D dodecahedron. Only six of the twelve sides showed from a top view. The center was blank while the five remaining sides were white, red, green, blue, and a silvery white.

  “We need a card to get in?” I questioned.

  Booker pulled a black card from his wallet. “You get a membership card when you become a member.”

  “Why is yours black and Peyton’s white?” Ward asked.

  “We’re different levels,” Booker responded.

  “How does that work?” Ward inquired.

  Booker smirked. “How about we see if you like the club first, mate?”

  Ward laughed and watched a couple walk up the stairs and past us after getting out of a Mercedes. “Right.”

  “So”—Peyton turned to me—“do you two just want to go in on your own and do your own thing, or do you want us to show you around?”

  I looked over at Ward. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. It was all foreign to me. “Do we need to be shown around?”

  Peyton shook her head. “Nope. You just need to stay on the first level or go to the pool area. You can’t go into any rooms. Those all depend on your membership, which you don’t have.”

  “Right.”

  “We don’t want to impose on whatever you two have planned,” Ward stated. “I think Kiera and I can manage.”

  Peyton grinned. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out. Let’s get you two inside.”

  We followed Peyton and Booker up the stairs. After Luke, the door guy, checked us off of his list, we entered through the French doors and into a foyer that had a coat check. We checked our purses and phones, and then Booker and Peyton turned to us, their hands on a black velvet drape.

  “Ready?” Peyton asked.

  Ward grabbed my hand and laced our fingers. We smiled at each other, and then I said, “Ready.”

  Peyton and Booker pulled open the curtain, and my husband and I stepped through and into a red-hued room. Music hit my ears as well as the sounds of moans and groans and ecstasy. It had a nightclub vibe—but with added entertainment.

  “Wow,” I breathed. “I guess people don’t wait around.”

  Ward chuckled. “I guess not.”

  “Peyton said there were bars around. Maybe we should get a drink then … look around?” I suggested.

  We stepped farther in, and Peyton and Booker passed by us as though they didn’t know who we were. That was probably for the best. I didn’t want to see my co-worker having sex with her husband, who was also on the opposite side of some of my cases.

  Or did I?

  No, I didn’t.

  Or maybe I did.

  Ward guided me, still holding my hand as we walked through what I assumed was a living room. Adjacent was an open room with bookshelves galore. It appeared to be a study. People were kissing, touching, and more, and I felt my breathing labor slightly as desire started to flow through my body. How was I already turned on?

  We found a bar, and after waiting in line, Ward ordered a whiskey neat for himself, and a vodka cranberry for me. The entire time, I looked around, taking everything in, and I briefly wondered where our group from the limo had run off to. That was until my gaze landed on none other than Vaughn, lead guitarist of Flirting with Fire. I didn’t know his last name—all I knew was he could play guitar like how I assumed he could work a woman’s body. He was easy on the eyes with dirty-blond hair that was as long as my own hair, and a light beard that I imagined would feel like heaven between my legs.

  As I stared at him, I realized he had his beautiful hair up into a bun and not long and flowing as I had seen in several music videos. I knew—given what Peyton had told me and because we signed an NDA—that there would be celebrities at Sensation. I just hadn’t realized who those celebrities would be.

  “Isn’t that …?” Ward asked as he handed me my drink.

  I quickly looked to see that he was looking at Vaughn too. “Yep.”

  “Wow,” he breathed. “I wonder who else we’ll see.”

  “Me too,” I agreed and took a sip of my cocktail. “Should we just … I don’t know, stand against a wall or something?”

  “Or we can go look around.
Peyton said we can look at everything on the first floor and the pool. I’d imagine that means”—he pointed toward the windows—“the pool is that way.”

  “Okay.” I took one final look at Vaughn as he stood with a few people talking before Ward and I went outside.

  The doors led to the pool area. People were already in the pool, but they were not swimming. Even though it was LA and May, nighttime wasn’t warm enough, in my opinion, for a swim. It had to be heated. From what I could tell, the lawn was well manicured.

  Just beyond the pool, the foundation dropped slightly, and a set of stairs led to another pool that was surrounded by cabanas and heat lamps that were keeping some of the surrounding areas warm. The cabanas were empty, but I assumed that was because people hadn’t migrated to them yet. Each one had pillows, blankets, and a basket of towels next to them. I wasn’t sure if the towels were for the pool or to clean up—or both.

  As we turned to go back toward the house, I looked up and saw rooms with balconies on the second level. There weren’t people on the balconies, but I wondered if people did go up there. Did they watch others in the pool? Did they get off while watching them?

  “I can’t believe this place exists,” Ward stated.

  I nodded. “I know, right?”

  He took a sip of his whiskey. “I always pictured a sex club in a warehouse or something.”

  “Always pictured?”

  “Well, I knew sex clubs existed,” he admitted.

  “I did too. And yeah, before I knew this place was at a mansion in Beverly Hills, I’d pictured sex clubs to be—sleazy I guess. This is anything but.” It was classy. The mansion probably cost ten—or more—million dollars.

  “Are you ready to go back inside?”

  “Sure.” I nodded.

  “Is the plan to still watch?”

  I stopped walking. “Why? Do you want to do more?”

  Ward chuckled and looked off to the side where two women and a man were having fun on two pool lounge chairs they had pushed together. “If you want to do that”—he motioned to the threesome—“we can.”

 

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