Wanting So Bad, Loving So Good

by Bella Bentley

  “Aye.”

  “Women wet and ready?”

  “Aye”

  In middle of the giant elaborate headboard, a digital timer blinked brightly in red. I couldn’t believe the intricacies of this place. The bed was obviously custom-made. I wondered what the maker of this very bed thought of its planned usage and if they had any idea what it would be for.

  “You know the rules! No oral. No anal. Strictly vaginal! If you break the rules, you’ll be disqualified. Once the weakest length drops out, you will have one minute to tie up your business before the next round. You may begin!”

  Tie up your business? This was something the mystery auburn haired girl forgot to tell me.

  In one swift moment, the gentlemen’s large throbbing member entered into my slick opening and he began to into me drive me deep and hard. I was overwhelmed by his size and I let out a giant gasp. His was larger than the man who won me and the feeling was intense. It was larger than my boyfriend’s! But nonetheless I felt pleasured as the force knocked me back on the bed. I lay there hearing the sounds of others being pleasured, of men acting like men, pleasuring themselves. And as he drove in and out of me and his hands fondled my breasts, I couldn’t help but admit it. I like sex! This is fun! Screw the missionary position!

  Well sometimes you have to change up your game. Her words rang in my memory and I thought she was right. I thought about how much fun this actually could be aside from emotions and feelings.

  The weight of his body against mine, the feel of a power jacket against my naked skin. The smell of his cologne that smelled like pine and amber. The feel of my throbbing, begging clitoris stimulated, the swelling sensation began to build as to the right of me, a man took a voluminous brunette from behind. She was in doggy position, a position I had never tried before. But I had read in Cosmo that it was a perfect position for stimulating your g spot as well as perfect for your lover to stimulate the clitoris. And oh god, was my clit being so amazingly stimulated right then.

  I decided if I made it past this round, I would try that position. The clock read three minutes and already one gentlemen was out. Poor fellow.

  “Number three is out!”

  My number seven chuckled above me. “Never could last.” His breath tickled against my ear and that caused my body to respond more to him, to gel into him. As I relaxed, he smoothly entered me deeper and I couldn’t help but to let out a long loud sigh of pleasure. I felt myself being brought to climax already. He drove me faster.

  “Gentlemen, you have one final minute before this round is over.”

  As his intensity increased and his moans rang above me, the orgasm lingering inside of me began to swell. I was just about to come when the buzzer sounded and he released from me.

  I lay there full of breath and desire as I was just about to be taken over the edge but was denied. It was a vile thing to do! I was overcome with such animalistic desires that I looked forward to the next lover . . . no, I mean fucker. I smiled wickedly on the inside thinking of all my mother’s church bible study members. If they only knew!

  Women with silver trays pranced around the bed with refreshments,

  hors d'oeuvre, more condoms, towels, and perfume.

  “Ten minute recess.”

  I propped up on my elbows and couldn’t believe I was actually enjoying this. The thrill, the eroticism, the fun.

  As I reflected, my partner reached for my hand and kissed it.

  “Pleasure.” He said cordially as a woman rolled his condom off and deposited it into a gold bucket.

  They have women to roll off their condoms!

  I rolled my eyes.

  An exotic island looking woman strutted up to me in a black and white lingerie number.

  “Water? Tapas?”

  I couldn’t speak at first because I had never seen such a beautiful face. But the smell of delicious Southern American steak spoke to my stomach.

  I tried to stand but felt dizzy. She giggled at me.

  “Oh, that’s normal. Here. Have some refreshments. You’ll need them.”

  I eyed the silver platter. There was bread, and a side of butter with elaborate gold utensils. I helped myself to a few bites and drank the ice-cold artisan water quickly.

  The room was festive. There was laughter, back slapping and good natured patronizing to the man who lost.

  I saw a few couples headed toward their respective color halls yet there was still a good number of spectators gathered around the bed.

  “One minute until places!” The announcer shouted.

  The need in me to be stimulated was too great. Too wild. I decided to take the position of the woman who was next to me and I got on all fours and spread my legs wide. This caused my queen victoria to throb with great need. I knew it would just take one touch and I would be off. My breathing increased and I shuttered as I looked around the bed at the ten other couples. Seeing others in the situation that I was in, feeling their primal need, enveloped me and caused me to tingle all over.

  “Condoms on.”

  I breathed more heavily as the anticipation swelled.

  “And now, begin!”

  The cymbal once again sounded and my heart jumped a beat again.

  “Oh yes, oh yes.” I felt strong hands grip my waist as a hardened staff entered me slowly and then found a deep, slow rhythm. My eyes rolled as his fingers generously explored my begging, slippery throbbing nob, as if he knew.

  “Oh . . . . ” I couldn’t help it. I felt free. I felt liberated. I wasn’t the only one being vocal. And this surprised me. This wasn’t the McKenzie I knew. This was a whole new sex-i-fied me. My orgasm swelled as he stimulated in firm pressed circles over my glistening clit, my juices generously lubricating. Higher and higher until finally I came. I wasn’t embarrassed to announce my orgasm. In fact, as my head tilted up and my eyes searched the ceiling in ecstasy, I saw a few men watching who adjusted themselves at the show. This made me happy. I wondered if he was watching. If this turned him on. And then I put on a show for him. And just for him. I came porn star hard!

  And then I felt it—his Johnson contract and he was coming already. His stomach fell on top of my back as he let out a giant sigh. “Oh, damn that was good. Damn that was good.”

  “The buzzer sounded. Gentlemen, we have another outer. Number two! One minute to wrap up loose ends.”

  He pulled away as he pulled me to the ground with his strong arms. I could barely stand and nearly fell over since the orgasm left me feeling like jello.

  A woman came to steady me as she led me away before I caught one last glimpse of fucker number two. I giggled on the inside again at this new name I came up with.

  A woman, who waited in the wings, removed his condom as another woman dabbed his misty sweat on his neck. I stared at his mask. His full lips as he drank water and I imagined he was some owner of a solar company.

  I was led through the crowd of men into a sort of powder room that held a private oversized garden tub with golden fixtures, a toilet and makeup mirror with a beautifully covered chair. The room reminded me of what a roman palace must look like.

  The clock on the wall displayed 1:30.

  “You have twenty minutes until I am to escort you to your color wing. As you can see to your left, there is a bath. Lotions are here. And I will assist with your makeup.”

  I looked at the gorgeous garden tub begging for me to soak in it. Ah, if only I could lie there with a good book for a good hour!

  “I’ll draw your water.”

  She walked over to the tub and started it. I looked around the restroom in admiration.

  “Alright, go ahead get in. Don’t be shy.”

  Huh? Was she going to stand and there and watch me?

  “You have eighteen minutes now.”

  Obliging, I took my lingerie off and stepped into the piping hot water and felt it sooth my muscles. I curiously looked at the woman who was attending to me. She was busy unpacking a makeup bag and examining makeup brushes. She
wasn’t minding me at all as she went about her business.

  This was all so strange, yet, different! Exciting!

  I quickly bathed with lilac perfumed soap and emerged from the bathtub wishing I could stay longer but excited about what lied ahead. As I stood on the fuzzy bath mat, she walked over towards me with an oversized towel and wrapped it around me, never staring at me. Strictly professional. I wondered how many women she had seen this way. I wondered how often she worked here.

  “Come this way.”

  I followed her to the vanity table with soft lights and sat down as she held a few colors in her hands and went to work on my eyes.

  I watched her create a set of smoky eyes and immediately envied her skill. It was dark plum with dark shimmery brown in the crease. She did an amazing job. As I opened my eyes, I looked like . . . a powerful woman. I held my chin up high examining. She dabbed nude lipstick over my lips.

  “This should last you until the wee hours of the morning. This is lip stain.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Are you an undercover journalist or something?” She asked non- threatening. “Because good luck getting anything published. Make that move and you don’t want to mess with these people.” Her tone was flat. I couldn’t make her out. She ran her fingers through my curls and draped them over my breasts lightly, careful to never have contact with my nipples.

  She unzipped a garment bag to reveal a red one-piece lingerie number. My jaw dropped. It was . . . daring, commanding and something bold women wore. It had a giant plunging v all the way down to the top of your vagina.

  The shoes underneath the gold ottoman were strappy gold heels that appeared to tie up all the way to my mid calf. The outfit rivaled any Victoria Secret fashion show number, yet the class, the material, shouted rich couture from the rooftops.

  She helped me into the number and began tying the back. There were satin ties that wrapped around that seemed impossible to undo. But there at the top of my Queen V were four small buttons to undue to free her.

  “I’ve always loved this one.”

  “Do you see this one often? This outfit?”

  “I’d be careful with asking so many questions because someone might fumble and tell you things you wish you didn’t know.”

  I stared at her reflection in the gold mirror. She was fixing my lingerie and her own heavy charcoaled lids looked down. Had I seen her on the street, I would have thought she was a smart lawyer, or a wall-street woman wearing a power suit like she wore and no doubt designer shoes. Her black hair was perfectly cut and silky hanging just below her shoulders.

  “I just . . . was wondering.”

  “Ah, yes. Well, curiosity kills the cat sometimes doesn’t it?”

  She spun me around for me to examine myself. She stared at me very curiously.

  “You’re not here to explore. It’s written all over your face.” She walked to the make up bag and began putting everything back in its place, her back now facing me.

  And then suddenly she crouched down and she was right between my legs an inch away from my crotch.

  What the hell?

  “This button has fallen off and I need to sew it back.”

  I looked down and did not see what she was talking about.

  She reached for a needle and thread out of her bag and got back down between my legs acting as if she were sewing.

  “There are cameras everywhere, recording devices.” She whispered very slowly, causing my eyes to suddenly go wide.

  “Go about your night, collect your money, then take it from me . . . do yourself a favor and never come back. Money always comes with strings, and their strings are made of iron.” She whispered quieter with sharp articulation as I looked around the room wondering where the cameras were.

  “There, that looks much better.” She said in her normal voice as she stood up and turned around.

  “Champagne?”

  Since my buzz was already wearing off, and she freaked me out with that line out of a Stephen King novel, I was totally freaked out. And now, I was very freaked out. What had happened to her? Was she threatened in some way? Trapped? Was I in danger?

  “Yes, please. I will take a glass.”

  “I find that it always calms the nerves.”

  Oh, yes. As I stared at myself in the red lingerie, minutes away from the red room and the red wing, there was one thing for certain—there was no calming my nerves now. No way in hell.

  Chapter Eight

  I was scared as hell. All fun and games I just experienced or fantasized of happening just dissipated at the bizarre, yet rude awakening of the woman’s dire warning—to never come back to this place. These men had iron strings attached to their money. Whatever that meant.

  She had warned me with such a look, and her hissing warning said it all; she knew what she was talking about. But what did she know? And why did she feel the need to share that with me? Did she warn everyone? Why me?

  I couldn’t even sort through my thoughts because I was now being led like a lamb to the slaughter. Having no say over one’s supposed destruction. I was consumed in complete fear.

  Dammit.

  I had just begun to enjoy myself. To think I earned an easy tuition payment! But now, oh hell no. It all came crashing down.

  Thanks smoky eyed makeup artist whoever the hell you are. You ruined everything.

  Maybe she’s looking out for you. Maybe you’ll thank her later.

  I sighed heavily as I was led out of the bathroom and past the sex-capade games of which I participated in two rounds and enjoyed a deserved swelling orgasm. They were on round four but I couldn’t bring myself to care; my knees were shaking from fear. Finally we passed the large group of men and entered a grand expansive wing decorated with giant oil paintings framed beautifully that must have cost tens of thousands of dollars and exquisite breathtaking statues of winged creatures and angels. There was not a single soul in sight in the long, wide hallway dressed with marble floors. At the end of the hall a flight of stairs waited that separated midway to the left and to the right.

  “Alright, sweetie. Just walk down that wing and then up that large stair case and you’ll be in your wing.”

  But do I turn to the left or to the right? I wanted to question. But it was too late. With that simple instruction, she spun on her heels and with all emotion aside, she left me.

  It was a very quiet eerie walk. Like one walking the plank, knowing once they reached the end, it was time to jump and plummet to their imminent death, I knew once I made it to the top of the stairs, there was no turning back. I just wish I knew what the depths of water held for me.

  I took a few timid steps down the hall.

  I could hear giggling, the sound of a whip, a woman nearing an orgasm, so I looked up towards the high ceiling that extended high above a hundred feet into a beautiful mosaic painting. It was then I noticed the wrap around railing above me on the second floor that looked below to the hallway in which I walked. It wrapped entirely around in a rectangle. If anyone were by the railing at this moment, they would see me. But no one was there.

  I could only hear the sounds.

  Click, clank, click, clank, the sound from my high heels remind me of my attire. My hand traced the fabric along my sides of my corset-like red lingerie. I have never worn anything so ridiculously risqué in my life. I stopped at the bottom of the marble railing as if to keep from tossing my cookies. Moment of truth—the red wing of passion here I come.

  I breathed deeply in and out to control my breathing. The thought crossed my mind that maybe I should just get rip-roaring drunk so I wouldn’t remember anything. But I didn’t see any of those silly lingerie servers. Not yet anyway.

  But just as I entertained the thought further, I saw a tall man in a mask arrive at the top of the stairs and he appeared to be staring at me.

  I gulped.

  This was awkward. I knew he was staring at every inch of my body, undressing me with his mind. With each
step I climbed, I swallowed back fear and tried to conceal my shaking. Finally, I stopped at the top of the stairs and he held out his arm to me, his red cufflinks sparkling in the light from the candles in the cast iron lanterns that had such a medieval feel to them.

  Timidly, I looped my arm in his as we walked down a hardwood floor with a red liner.

  Sexy music played with no words. Just electric sounds set to hypnotic beats with the occasional breathy moan from a woman. To the left and right of us were what appeared to be cabana rooms with sheer curtains hanging, similar to the ones down stairs that covered the small sitting area that I shared with my bidder, but these were so sheer I could see the silhouettes of couples and several threesomes, in each room engaging in their sexual acts.

  Some acts made me want to stop and just plain stare. I had so much to learn!

  I had never seen this before but I saw a man clamp what appeared to be a chain over a curvy woman’s nipples. Her wrists were tied and hooked above her head, as he clamped down on her nipple, she cried out as he kissed her collarbone, chuckling into her neck.

  “Don’t you trust me?” He said as he clamped the other nipple. She cried out once more.

  I shivered. Could I ever like something like that? I wondered.

  To the right of me, I briefly saw a woman going down on a man as another woman lay beneath her going down on her.

  Now that really made me want to stop and stare. I imagined what that might be like for a moment as we passed a few more rooms, and couldn’t believe myself entertaining such a thought. But why not explore?

  We past a few more moans and cries until we turned down a hallway. I felt so aroused. My nipples hardened immensely and my inner walls were blazing with the need to be filled again. I tried to dismiss the rising need but I couldn’t. It was just there, plain, apparent, like a giant elephant in the room staring at me.

  There was no denying its’ presence.

  We approached a beautiful fountain with red lights coloring the clear water. The lengths to which this place went to evoke a sexual, passionate, luxurious feel, did a pretty damn good job. Talk about having a party here, or to vacation here! It could rival any luxury hotel in the world.