I swallowed hard and turned away watching two blondes kissing each other passionately, fondling each others breasts, touching each other’s queen V on a sofa as a man smoked a cigar and watched the women with a giant smile on his face.
I watched him give them orders as they giggled.
My jaw opened as I saw one of them begin to go down on the other, as her bare ass was inches from his face. I couldn’t believe it. I nearly dropped my champagne.
Pull it together, McKenzie. You’re going to be a surgeon. You’re going to see people’s guts and sick stuff—and besides, this isn’t sick. This is sex. This is actually . . . very interesting.
The gentleman next to me chuckled as he adjusted his cufflink.
He pointed as he spoke.
“See that grandfather clock over there?”
I looked towards his direction and saw an elaborate clock.
“Uh huh.” My voice was weak.
“We have fifteen minutes until the games begin.”
Something told me on the inside that he had an idea for how to occupy the next fifteen minutes.
“Why don’t you follow me, kitten?”
Kitten?
He grabbed my hand and I followed him looking left and right at the sex acts, not knowing if I should turn away or watch. But the more I watched the more I got turned on; something I never knew about myself since I had never watched a porno.
One woman had her legs wrapped around her masked gentleman and he held her with such strength as he cupped her voluptuous bum. His cufflinks were white diamonds and as he lifted her in and out, her cries of orgasm rose above all the others in high shrills as he laughed, satisfied.
I went wet hearing her orgasm and I felt embarrassed that I was throbbing, feeling turned on by this incredulous site. I took two swift sips from my champagne flute and prayed to God I wouldn’t be mortified by the running of juices down my leg. I quickly turned my attention back to the incredible awe of the power in this room, the prestige of décor and architecture. In that moment, I felt like I was in a movie, a ball from the 1700s or something, except this was quite different. This was a sex club.
Holy Hell.
Maybe you should let your inhibitions loose and be mad McKenzie for the night? Besides no one knows you. No one knows about your past conservative upbringing. No one knows that you were a goody two shoes and only have had sex with one man. Heck get it out. You are a new woman tonight.
My obvious ego spoke to me.
Yet, as crazy as that sounded, it sounded alluring.
Chapter Six
I didn’t have too much time to ponder. Tall man led me to a doomed velvet seating section surround by draped silk golden curtains that were held back by gold ropes.
“Sit.” He invited me politely.
There was a table in front with a bucket of ice and champagne resting.
“Would you like champagne? Or would you care for something stronger?”
Stronger! Come one. Be bold. Might as well enjoy the hand the deck had dealt.
“I can do stronger.” I sat up taller, incredibly aware that I had no clothes to hide behind.
He pulled a rope and a bell rang. Seconds later, a beautiful Asian woman wearing a high wasted nude silk number, with a bra that was cut out exposing her blossoming breasts appeared.
I looked down, suddenly shy.
“Yes?”
“I would like a scotch. And she will have . . . . “
“Gin and tonic please.”
“Right away.” She smiled sweetly yet seductively.
I played with my hands feeling funny looking at a masked man. While it was sexy and intriguing, it was sort of freaking me out not knowing who I was speaking to.
Moments later the woman appeared with our drinks as well as an innate little silver display of more liquor for our drinks should we decide to have more.
She then untied the fabric and it draped closed, giving us privacy. My heart rate doubled as I reached for my drink. It was then I realized behind the cushioned seats was a mirror surrounding us. I saw his reflection through the mirror and looked down again at my glass.
He drank his scotch as the ice rattled against the gold-rimmed glass.
“Tell me, does this place interest you?”
After a moment of hesitation, I answered, “It does.”
“Does it?”
I nodded.
“What appeals to you the most?”
After thinking hard about it, I replied, “The freedom of not being judged.”
“Ah. And would you judge me if you saw who I was?”
I shook my head not knowing if I was lying or not.
“You see, I could be anyone. I could be the man you see running on the treadmill at the gym, the man down the block, perhaps on the cover of Forbes, or even on television in the movies.” He waved his glass around animatedly as he spoke.
I gulped.
“Does this excite you?”
“Yes.” I answered in a hush.
But even then as I admitted my desire, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. The man who bid and won me. Who made love to me with such tender care and expertise. Who could have ravished me! The man who—
Suddenly he lifted his mask and I saw his face.
It was him.
I froze in complete shock and in total infatuation.
How could I not have recognized that perfect jaw line?
He cocked his arm up on the couch and turned to face me more with an amused look hanging on his face.
“I just had to see you again.”
“You did?” My reply came out as barely a whisper.
“The games are to begin soon and we won’t see much of each other but I’d like to see you again.”
“You would?”
He picked up his scotch again and eyed it carefully, weighing his thoughts.
“You seem so surprised.” He took a long sip. “There is something tender about you, McKenzie. Something . . . innocent. Something that I feel in my power and desire to protect.”
“I’m not all that innocent.” I found myself saying which was a lie. “To protect from what?”
“Ah, but don’t cover up your innocence. Don’t downplay it. It’s rather refreshing.” He said sexily as his free hand touched my pouty lips.
Why couldn’t the night stay in here just with him? He was a rich billionaire . . . why couldn’t he just be with me all night? If they were powerful and rich enough, couldn’t and shouldn’t they get just what they want? Yet, I still was unsure how the whole ordeal worked.
“There’s a hierocracy here. A matter in which these games go about that I felt I should warn you about.”
Oh no.
“A woman like you, tonight’s duchess.”
“Yeah, about that. What was—”
“Trust me, you’ll want to hear what I have to say.”
Something told me I wasn’t going to like it. I reached for my drink.
“This is an elite sex club. The elite of the elite. And you are in the red group. The group of passion. The group of animalistic savages. The group of sacrifice.”
Sacrifice? I took a few sips.
“Just know that I will be thinking of you every second of the night.” He let out an annoyed sigh. “There are certain rules here.”
But I didn’t understand. Didn’t some women sign up because they enjoy exploring? He was acting as if I was in danger or something.
He downed his scotch.
“I’m going to do everything I can to see you again.”
And God knows I wanted to see his gorgeous face again. Just thinking about him . . . oh. I shivered at the remembrance of his lips on my nipple and the way he moved down there. I couldn’t believe I was behaving like this. Here I was in a sex club smitten with a total electrifying stranger! A man who pulled me to him like a magnet.
“But there are rules.”
“What rules?”
“Now that the bid is over, the host gets first pi
ck.”
I jumped and nearly spilled my drink at the clanging of what sounded to be a giant cymbal. He quickly put his mask back on and adjusted the sides of his hair.
Ah, I sighed inside.
I desperately wanted to know his name. I wanted to know the man who captured me in such a way.
I wanted to know if I would be alright.
The drapes were pulled open and everyone staggered out of their sexy hazes and began recomposing themselves and looked upward unto the second level where a man in a powerful black tuxedo, a gold scepter, and a mask stood solo commanding everyone’s presence. His free hand resting on the railing.
There was a hush in the crowd and I felt suddenly eerie. I looked around to study the faces of other women. I felt like a fish out of water, like I was the only outsider. The women gazed at him with small confident , longing smiles.
I looked to my right to see him but he was gone.
Chapter Seven
“Greetings!” He slammed the gold scepter down and the clash echoed throughout the hall.
The clock struck uncannily at 1am.
“And welcome to another festive night together! The elite. The crème of de le crème. May your experiences be full and may your bliss be followed.”
Gentlemen began to clap and I just stood there with my arms crossing my body taking it all in.
“And now for the lucky draw, to be our lucky queen tonight beside me, the host of this evening, your king.”
Two brunette naked women sauntered up to him in high heels and fur draped over their shoulders and handed him a giant gold case that resembled a jewelry box from medieval times.
He held up a card high and studied it.
“Ah, very good choice indeed. Lilly K. Lilly K. Queen for tonight’s festivities.” A quiet murmur settled on the crowd.
I exhaled thankful, happy it wasn’t me, even though I didn’t know what the queen’s role was.
I saw a petite brunette young woman in her twenties walk up the grand staircase to meet him. She wore a gold lingerie set with a sheer cape draped at her shoulders. Her diamond necklace was set in gold and it sparkled against her tan skin.
Her heels clanked loudly as she walked towards him. I wondered what her backstory was. Was she here for exploration or a need? The look of trepidation on her face told me it was the latter, perhaps.
He turned her around and removed the sheer cape off her shoulders revealing her backside to the audience.
He generously smoothed her backside with his hand.
“Such smooth skin.” He spun her around and fondled her breasts for everyone to see.
“Whoever gets to be queen for the night is exempt from the games.” A woman standing next to me leaned towards me and whispered as if I were a long lost friend.
I turned to look at her to thank her but stopped speaking with the sudden announcement.
“Tonight’s twelve princesses participating in the games will be . . . Jenny K, Miranda L, Michelle S, Emma B, McKenzie K, . . . .
That was me. My name!
Panic flooded my chest.
Just what did that mean? Games?
“Whoever lasts longest wins a large sum of money and prizes.” The woman with long dirty blonde hair and sultry eyes leaned in once more to explain as she daintily held her champagne flute.
“What do you mean?”
“Whoever can last the longest with the women on the bed.”
“You mean?”
“That bed with the satin sheets over there is where all the action transpires. Gentlemen bet on the men and watch on the sidelines. Think of it as sex boxing.”
“Got that. But what . . . what about me?”
“To keep things fair, everyone is paired according to draw for the first round.”
“And how many rounds are there?”
“Eleven.”
Oh dear Lord. My heart went out to the woman who would have to endure eleven sexapades. Please don’t let that woman be me! No wonder they wanted you to sign a wavier.
“Overall this lasts around four hours with recess breaks. That’s why there are colors. While the games go on, gentlemen are allowed to participate and come back after they visit their color hall, whichever they prefer. But they have to stay within their color scheme. It’s just the rule.”
So how would he even see me again?
I stared at the giant bed picturing myself on there with 23 other men and women. The idea was crazy . . . yet erotic. I had never heard of such a thing.
“Does this happen every time?”
There was no answer.
“Code of conduct. Rule handbook. Not aloud to answer that. There are around fifty men here and a hundred women. Consider this just the fancy centerpiece of the evening. Don’t worry. Just be incredibly sexy, hot, erotic, and they’ll be off in a jiffy.”
Right. Me. Ole little church gal from the south to be erotic.
“Wait!” My liquid courage from earlier gave me the guts to ask. “Any suggestions?”
“Do you like sex or not?”
“What do you mean?”
“Advice to stay in or get out and on to your color?”
“Um . . . this may sound strange with me being in a sex club. And well, I’ve only ever had sex for love. Not for games and fun.“
“Well then.” She smacked her lips. “Perhaps it’s time to shake it up a bit and explore.”
I watched her sway her hips as she walked towards her chosen color hall—the black room.
I looked around in search for him, to see if he made the raffle for games, but how was I to know? Every man looked the same and had the same mask.
You’d know his member.
My subconscious shot.
But would I?
I wasn’t that experienced.
I wasn’t—
“Madam, Ms. McKenzie . . . follow me.”
A gentleman led me to the giant satin bed filled with pillows in glittery charcoal. A few women were already lying seductively ready for their gentlemen. I merely sat upright pen straight with my knees turned inward. I felt like I was in a circus. I didn’t have much time to think. I needed to snap out of the, oh my gosh is this really happening, and develop a game plan. Did I want to make this go fast as possible to go off to the red room (whatever that was)? Or did I want to prolong the red room? Then the thought occurred to me, it really did depend on the man I guess.
But my reasoning wasn’t too clear at this point. From the champagne and the gin, I felt more than a-okay. I felt I was teetering at the level were possibly you may call your ex-boyfriend or Facebook message someone drunk. My inhibitions were very much lowered yet I wasn’t seeing blurry and I wasn’t seeing double.
I was just very tipsy.
I looked at a few other women who already were in their positions. Some lay seductively with a finger playfully in their mouth trailing their lips. Some with their fingers playing with their other lips. This made me laugh and I covered my mouth.
Hey, at least I was laughing now, right?
The man in charge of announcing the choices of the raffle spat out names as gentlemen cheered and began rough housing with each other.
“You’re never going to last!”
“You never do!”
“Three grand on gentlemen twelve.”
“No, my bet is on seven!”
So they were numbered?
Suddenly, the chatter grew louder as each began spouting out their bets like frat boys. Then the thought occurred to me, what about the woman? If a woman did well, why wasn’t she compensated? It was as if we were in a rodeo and we were the bulls. I sighed and rolled my eyes at the conversation I was having with my self.
You are getting paid McKenzie! 45,000 dollars.
True.
I kept on with this conversation until trousers were inches away from my eyes and a flood of heavy cologne flooded my senses. His shoes were large and shiny.
Very large.
A giant round number, a sort of
makeshift necklace hung around his neck and down his vest. Number seven.
Suddenly my juices flowed and the anticipation for what as to come was just beyond me.
I studied his vest that he wore inside of his jacket. The stitching was impeccable. His cufflinks were blue. Blue. Hmmm . . . . is that a room involving water?
He reached for my hand and pulled it to his thin lips.
“Ma’am.”
The gesture was chivalrous. He smiled a full line of pearly perfectly white teeth and the Disney-princess-wanna-a- be on the inside of me decided to pretend he was my prince.
Yeah, except you’re totally doing it in front of a full crowd.
Oh well. This could be an erotic fairy tale.
I batted my eyelashes and looked into his dark eyes.
“Sir.”
That felt right.
Then, the giant cymbal was sound again.
“Let the games begin!”
He took off his shoes and his trousers dropped displaying white boxers with tiny symbols. He held his large member in his hand. His very large member that kept growing erect by the second.
I gulped.
There was no playing around, no funny business. In one swift moment, one hand grabbed my waist as his finger swiftly explored my inner walls and pulled out just as fast. I leaned forward and braced myself grabbing his arms to steady myself.
I quickly pulled away once his finger stood in the air as if checking for the direction of the wind. A woman in what was to be expected, lingerie, wiped his finger clean with a towel and then sensually wrapped her own lips for one giant suck around his finger.
“Gentlemen, are your women wet and ready?”
“Aye.” The majority said except one “Nay.”
It grew very quiet as another lingerie dressed woman clanked her way towards the bed in her strappy heels and provided lubrication. My jaw dropped and my eyes went big as I saw her administer the lube herself to the woman. Her finger generously smoothed over the woman’s private area and the woman moaned in pleasure at the touch.
I heard a few grumbles of desire in the crowd and this sight, of course, just provided more personal lubrication, which completely baffled yet bemused me. A new side of sexuality was rising in me.
“Gentlemen, cocks out? Condoms on?”
As I watched the woman being personally lubed up, I failed to see my number seven’s cock being wrapped personally by another sexily dressed attendant.
Wanting So Bad, Loving So Good Page 4
