by Cynthia Dane
We understand that. We don’t care. We need a place to party and fuck like anyone else.
Those are the Doms, anyway. The submissive men come from a very different walk of life. Sure, some of them are rich. Others are guys who are working their way up. Others are professional subs who make their living off performances. There are so many Doms in this world that the club encourages subs of lesser means to join and make regular appearances to basically get laid. It’s a great gig if you’re poorer and looking for a hot sugar mama or daddy. The club doesn’t discriminate. Gay, straight, bi… it’s all good as long as you’re respectful about it.
There’s one guy I’ve got my eye on. Guy’s ripped in that male model sort of way. Probably is a male model. He’s wearing leather pants, shirtless, sitting cross-legged on a pillow with his shoulders slightly slouched and a simple collar around his neck. The kind that says he subs but has no permanent partner. I assume most of those guys are gay, since they usually are, but this one has put out his feelers on a couple of women already and I’ve got a good feeling. In my pants, that is.
All I want is a hot guy to crawl on top of and ride until I forget how much today sucked. I don’t even need to whip him, unless that’s what he really wants. Maybe that’s what I’ll put out tonight. “Hey, you,” I’ll say, “I’ll give you a great handjob and wrap my pussy around your cock if you shut up and let me.”
Eva follows my gaze down into the main gallery. “Someone wants to get laid,” she says. Cigar smoke filters past my nose, but I’m too lost in my fantasies of Mr. Handsome down there. I bet he has a big one. I’ll make him eat me out until I’m wet enough to take all of him. “Can’t say I blame you. If I weren’t cramping like a bitch I’d be out of here already.”
Too much information, but that’s Eva. You should hear her story about the time she went down on a… never mind. “I would ask if it’s that obvious, but…”
“You asked me here, didn’t you? If you say let’s go to The Dark Hour, I will assume that you’re looking for some cock to ride. After hearing about your day? I’m shocked you’re not already getting out your crop and smacking some ass down there.”
“I need to gather up the energy to do that first.”
Eva finishes up her cigar and stands, straightening out her suit and checking her impeccable hair with her hands. If I were into girls, I’d be into someone like her. Sometimes I grumble that I can’t force myself to be bisexual. Eva and I would be a hilariously kinky and troublemaking couple. Now that gay marriage is legal? Can you say bigger power couple than the Andrews? Ugh, now I’m thinking about today again.
“Stick around, Kat. I’ll scope out some pretty boys for you.”
“Not too pretty. I like muscles on mine.”
“Muscles and a big cock. Should be easy enough to find. Hang tight.”
I don’t think she’s going to actually find me anyone, but Eva saunters off, half-drunk but putting on the air of sobriety. She needs the alcohol if she’s going to survive this club by herself. Although with my luck, she’ll find a woman and leave me in the dust. If Eva can sniff out someone willing to get Topped by her, she will find them.
That martini I’ve been thinking about is mine within five minutes. I attempt to enjoy the peace I now have in an otherwise loud club. Helps that Eva and I got here early and secured our quaint VIP space upstairs. Looking back down into the main gallery, I see a nice party has started. Business dealings are over. Now people are plastered enough to holler at every blowjob and spanking they see.
More high profile people are arriving. I focus on a familiar face, and soon recognize up and coming actress Stephanie May. If you don’t know her, she was an indie darling for a few years before a big director casted her in a moderate success. She got a few accolades, and because she’s a hot skinny blonde she gets lots of offers now. There’s talk she’s going to be in the adaptation for one of those YA dystopians. Don’t ask me which one. The only books I have time to read anymore are business insiders and the occasional erotic short on my tablet. Last time I read anything with substance was, I dunno, Gone Girl? Fuck, what happened in that book?
I can’t remember. Partly because the man holding Stephanie’s hand is no one else but Ian Mathers, and I’m trapped between pure surprise and disgusted.
Of course he’s dating a young movie starlet. I mean, Ian is a total freakin’ playboy. Everyone knows it. He goes through girlfriends – sometimes more than one at a time – like I go through chocolate when I’m PMSing. I can’t keep track of these girls….
…Not that I am, mind you. It’s not like I care how many women he parades around, or who he gets photographed with for Page 6. He’s one of those guys who is super public with his life. Doesn’t hide from cameras. Isn’t afraid to get up and say something. He’s always been that way too. For a while he was on the student council in high school. Captain of the soccer team. He is a natural leader like that, and nobody was surprised when he started doing so well in his parents’ companies. Why wouldn’t he?
I’m the opposite. I didn’t run for anything in high school. I barely played sports past some stints at volleyball. Thing is, I was riding the coattails of my parents. There was never any doubt that I would get into the school of my choice – my dad only needed to write the right check if I couldn’t get in on my own merits. Don’t get me wrong. I got good grades. I applied myself where I felt like it. Only now I have to apply myself harder to prove to myself, my parents, and the business world that this woman can do just as well as anyone else. And then I do shit like I did this morning.
I look away from Ian and his arm candy. They’re talking to a few other people, and he’s got his arm wrapped around her like they’re gonna bone any moment. Probably will. Ian is no stranger to the private rooms in the back.
Neither am I. That’s beside the point. See, it’s okay if I sleep around. It’s totally different when he does it.
Don’t ask me why. Just… every time I see him with a woman, I’m angry. Not on a tirade, but definitely uneasy.
I’m not jealous.
Jealousy would imply I wish I were Stephanie May. Let me tell you, the type of woman who wraps herself up in a man’s arms, coos in his ear, and begs to be bent over and pummeled right in the pussy? That ain’t me. That won’t ever be me.
Excuse you, I am not protesting too much.
Chapter 4
IAN
The party is alive tonight. From the moment I walked in with Stephanie, we’ve been bombarded with slews of people who want to say hi and buy us drinks. Normally I’m the man buying the drinks. I am definitely buying Stephanie’s drink.
Let me introduce you to my date for the evening. Stephanie May is a lovely woman, and not just on the outside, although that certainly attracted me first. She’s got a model’s body. Not the kind you’re thinking about. I’m talking ‘90s model, with perky breasts and the kind of hips you want to clutch and squeeze. The way she saunters in her shimmery dress is so enticing that it’s a wonder I’m not caveman dragging her to one of the private rooms right now.
Later. She knows what this place is, although it’s her first time here. Furthermore, she knows why I brought her here.
We haven’t had sex yet. This is only our second date, the first being the night before she had an early morning movie shoot, so we didn’t get any farther than some kissing and me groping that hot ass. Don’t ask me where this ‘relationship’ is going. It’s not one yet. I’m dating around with other women, and she’s linked with some producer in the tabloids. We’re casual right now.
Casual, but I have every intention of seeing her on my cock by the end of the night.
She laughs at one of James Merange’s jokes. Her voice is mirthful, if not a bit shrill, but right now I can overlook that. Honeymoon phase, if you will.
We’re sitting in an open area. Our tables are covered in drinks. Mostly we’re lounging on leather couches and silk pillows that allow us to kick up our legs, fond
le some thighs and breasts, and pretend that nobody gives a shit. Most of the sexy action is happening in the back, but up here it’s not unusual to see a woman stroking a guy’s cock through his pants or for those same women to suddenly go topless. Stephanie isn’t gonna do that, but…
Yup. Gwen’s tits are out within a half hour and two drinks on her part. James is a lucky bastard. He knows it, too, gauging how he can’t take his eyes off them and whispers shit about sucking her nipples in her ear. Get her another drink, James, and she might blow you right here in front of us.
If Stephanie is uncomfortable, she’s not letting on. I pegged her as kinky, or at least curious about kink, and tonight I hope to see how submissive she’s willing to go. I do love regular sex with the right one-night-stand. Yet if Stephanie and I are going to keep dating, I need someone who will offer me…more, if you will.
“How’d the meeting with the Andrews go today?” James asks, acting as if his girlfriend’s breasts aren’t doing anything for him. Brother, I can see what’s going on in your pants. I’m not saying I’m looking, but it’s rather hard to not notice. “Everyone’s been talking about this project of yours. And the Alison’s, I suppose.”
I sit up, dangling my drink between my legs since we’re apparently talking business now. Stephanie remains beside me, sipping her own drink and also trying to not stare at James’s erection. The only person staring at it is Gwen. Down, girl!
“I have no idea how to describe that meeting. Everything went swimmingly until Kathryn Alison botched her end of the presentation.”
“Really? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“You say that, but you don’t know her as well as I do.” We’re a bit before James’s time. I can’t remember how old he is, exactly, but he must be mid-30s. Even I’m not thirty yet. “Kathryn Alison can be a bit absentminded.” The woman is stressed out of her mind. I give her hell, but I’m not blind. She thinks she has a lot to prove, and I don’t doubt she almost threw up when her father assigned her that presentation.
“That’s too bad. Did you lose the bid?”
“No. Worse. The Andrews want to get community approval on the project, so we have to present it to a public council two weeks from now.”
“Wow. Brutal.”
“We can handle it.” By “we,” I mean my father and me. No doubt my father is talking to Spencer Alison right now about his daughter’s momentous fuckup earlier today. With any luck, Spencer will come out of semi-retirement to deal with the next presentation.
Gwen wraps her hand around her boyfriend’s thigh and whispers something in his ear. He clears his throat. I look at Stephanie, who is politely checking her phone messages from the depths of her purse.
Sure enough, within a few minutes tipsy Gwen has convinced her Dom to take her onto the empty stage in the middle of the lower gallery and play with her. I knew the woman was an exhibitionist, and I meet Stephanie’s eyes to gauge her response.
“She’s pretty,” she says, slowly scooting toward me. There’s a magnet between us. My hand goes over hers the moment Gwen gets a slap on her ass and a groan in her throat. People are cheering. Why not? Every time Gwen is spanked, her tits jiggle, and that makes everyone happy. “This place is fun.”
My date has no idea.
We stay in the gallery long enough to watch Gwen be stripped naked and have her nipples clamped. The look on her face is exquisite. Pain. Pleasure. Her undying love for her Dom as he strokes her hair before pulling it. The moans falling from her lips sound so heavenly that I can barely contain myself. I’m a man. I’m human. Between seeing that woman’s nipples harden with every spank and hearing her excitement when her Dom bites her shoulder…
“You enjoying the show?” Stephanie’s hand is on my leg. My cock is halfway to full attention, the blood rushing to it as it realizes it’s in a room full of beautiful, horny women who want exactly the sort of thing I serve. “Because I think you are, Ian.”
I don’t have to ask. Stephanie May, one of the hottest actresses in the world right now, has her hand on my dick and is purring in my ear. Now I’m 100% hard, and it’s killing me.
Don’t listen to what Kathryn tells you. I have full control over my erectile faculties. I’ve had twelve years since that incident to learn how to control myself. And I can. I’ve gone without orgasm for hours while my balls turned so blue I nearly rammed my cock into my partner so hard that she cried – in a good way, thanks.
So it’s no problem for Stephanie to be nibbling on my ear and stroking my cock through my pants while I watch Gwen have her clit rubbed to erupting orgasm on the stage. We’re in a sex club, for fuck’s sake. Plenty of these people have seen me being pleasured before. The tabloids are always running stories about me, one of the world’s most eligible bachelors if you believe them, getting hummers and anal from this model or that businessman’s hot daughter. Sometimes they’re true. Usually they’re… exaggerated.
Stephanie May unzipping my pants and moving her lips from my ear to the head of my cock, however, is not an exaggeration.
I don’t care who sees us. Stephanie is hot, relevant, and I’m not gonna lie, boosting my ego as much as she’s easing the tension in my erection. I hear her murmur in surprise at how big I am. That’s right. I’m bigger than the average guy – and I’ve seen a few other guys hanging out of their pants in this place. You can’t really tell looking at it, but I have it on good authority from multiple women that it feels a lot bigger than you may initially take it to be. That’s a good compliment, if I do say so myself.
This is also a good suck. Stephanie’s beautiful blond hair is falling to the side, covering my knees as her hand wraps around my base and her head bobs up and down my whole length. I glance between Gwen’s erotic high and my red tip disappearing in and out of Stephanie’s mouth. She’s not holding back on the sounds, either. Between the other woman’s moans and Stephanie’s sucking, my ears think they’re in heaven.
Don’t get me wrong. This feels great. My cock is having the time of its life right now. But I’ve had enough practice since then to know that it’ll be a while before I come. Besides, I don’t orgasm in public. I’ll take a blow or handjob, but I prefer to save the finale for private.
I don’t want to disturb her beautiful hair. She looks so perfect, so serving, that to touch any part of her would upset this wonderful vision… but I want to touch her. I want to rub her skin and comb my fingers through that gorgeous blond hair. I’ve always had a thing for blondes. Something about the shade sticks out in such a pleasant way and gives my eye a treat. There are beautiful brunettes in this world, sure, but I love seeing a head of blond moving through the dark.
I lean my elbow against the chair. My hair feels frustratingly soft between my fingers, and it’s because every touch to me right now is making me inch closer to coming. I’m tempted to empty myself in Stephanie’s throat. I can get hard again soon enough to fuck her elsewhere. And the idea is even more tempting when she eases me down her throat and everything is so damn wet and warm and tight around me that I fantasize about bursting over and over again.
My eyes gaze upward for a split second. That second is all I need to catch someone staring at me from a private balcony.
Kathryn Alison.
I didn’t know she was here. Why didn’t you tell me? That makes everything interesting.
She doesn’t know I’m looking back at her yet. But she’s staring. What is it, Kathryn? Waiting for me to arrive prematurely? It’s not gonna happen. I’m in total control here. Now that I know you’re playing the voyeur up there? I’m even more determined.
My hand strokes the top of Stephanie’s hand, reassuring her that I’m pleased. She’s good at what she does, Kathryn. I’m not saying you wouldn’t be good, but I have a hard time imagining you like this…
You’re both blond, though. Blond and svelte. It wouldn’t be hard to imagine it’s you instead of Stephanie. You’d be impressed, really. It’s too bad you didn�
�t get to feel me inside you all those years ago. My finesse has improved since then, of course, but even at seventeen I had a good idea of what I was doing. I was fully grown too, if you know what I mean. You would’ve writhed against that wall like the best of them, your tits in my face and that pretty blond hair ripping out of its holding.
Oh, damn. I’m close.
Is this turning you on, Kathryn? Do you like watching another woman suck my cock? Is it getting you wet? Making your nipples tingle? Do you wish you were either one of us? I know you’re a Domme, but you could be like your friend. That would be hot… wouldn’t mind watching you get sucked off by a woman like Stephanie. Maybe she’s bi.
Kathryn?
What are you…
Ha! Here I am, king of the fucking world, drinking one of the best glasses of brandy I’ve ever had in my life, with a hot, young movie star swallowing my cock and fantasizing about me coming in her throat or in her pussy. And here I am, having this all happen to me, while Kathryn fucking Alison flips me off from her private balcony.
I guess she saw my gaze after all.
“That’s good.” I tug on Stephanie’s hair to get her to let up. Her lips kiss my tip before she smiles at me, clearly pleased with how hard she’s made me after all that. Yes, very admirable, but I’ve got other plans for us. “How about we get some privacy?”
She kisses my lips, her tongue flicking against mine. She smells like berries. I don’t know what perfume this is, but I like it. “Whatever you want, Ian,” she says softly. “I’m yours.”
“That’s what I like to hear.” I squeeze her shoulder as she covertly puts me back in my pants so I can walk through the club without hanging out. “You into what I told you about earlier?” Stephanie knows I’m into BDSM. I told her she didn’t have to do anything she didn’t want to, especially since she’s inexperienced beyond some spanking and dirty talk. I always like to go easy the first time, anyway.
