The Naughty Corner

by Jasmine Haynes

  “Everyone.” Jackie clapped her hands and called out, “We’ve got newbies. Gray and Lola. After they’ve gotten themselves a drink, come on over and introduce yourselves.” Then she turned back to him, lowering her voice. “The rules are simple and few. Anything goes, but only with permission from both husband and wife. No poaching. Don’t touch unless invited. And don’t be a nuisance. No means no. But we’re all exhibitionists here, so look as much as you like. Everything clear?” She puckered her red lips at him.

  “Perfectly clear.” The rules were posted on their website.

  Lola’s fingers tightened around his, and he read nervousness in her eyes. He wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her, but a big part of the kick was anticipation. A little nerves would add to it for her. So he gave her an imperious dom nod, then led her through the assemblage of brightly plumed women and their escorts. That’s one thing that had attracted him when he was looking online: This was a couples-only gathering.

  He had a vague plan in his mind. First a little voyeurism, giving Lola an eyeful of rampant sexual activity. Then, if the mood was right, he’d cultivate any exhibitionist tendencies she might have. Mostly he was just willing to see where the evening led them, and, if this crowd was the right crowd, to let Lola’s inner slut loose.

  The crowd came in all varieties, from thin to paunchy, blondes, brunettes, redheads, bald men, a few wearing obvious toupees. They weren’t an overtly good-looking bunch, as if everyone had stepped out of the pages of Vogue or GQ. They were average, some more appealing than others. For the most part, they weren’t young. In fact, the majority were middle-aged, and, if he judged correctly, a few even in their sixties.

  Conversation rose around them again, echoing slightly in the open-beamed ceilings, as he led Lola to the dining room.

  “What would you like to drink?” he asked, surveying the array of liquor bottles.

  “Champagne, please.” She sighed. “So am I not allowed to say anything if one of them introduces themselves?”

  “I will speak for you.”

  She glowered. It made him hot. He filled a glass, keeping the foam to a minimum, and handed it to her. “And that’s the last word I want to hear out of you. Unless you want me to punish you in front of everyone.” The idea had some appeal, and he enjoyed giving her orders. Dropping the dom thing on her in the car had been a last-minute decision, mostly with the intent of heightening her anticipation. It had the added benefit of heightening his own.

  She muttered something under her breath and sipped, then she smiled. The champagne was not the cheap stuff.

  He wended his way through the company, glad-handing like he was attending a business meeting, except that no one asked about his work.

  “Oh, honey, I love that—she’s not allowed to speak.” This from a midforties balding man who obviously worked out regularly.

  His wife, a bit on the stout side, slapped his arm. “Don’t even think about it, Kenneth. I am not shutting up for you or any man.”

  Kenneth laughed, then palmed his wife’s ample ass. “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll shut up for you instead.” And he zipped his lips.

  Lola held fast to Gray’s hand as he maneuvered through the gathering, which he estimated at twenty or so couples. She smiled when he introduced her, and threw him looks with daggers in them when no one was watching. At one point, he chucked her under the chin and whispered, “Do you know how hard it makes me when you look at me like that?”

  She shot him a multiple-dagger glare just as another couple moved in on them.

  “We’ve been swinging for five years now,” the redhead told them after introductions and a bit of small talk. Wearing a miniskirt that was meant for someone ten years younger—Lola would have looked magnificent in it—the woman wrapped herself around her husband’s arm, clinging like a vine. “I can’t tell you how much better our marriage is because of it.”

  The husband in question—florid-faced with a body that threatened a heart attack in the not too distant future—eyed Lola with undisguised desire. He was practically drooling.

  The redhead leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “My husband would love to have a go at your sub. And I’d love to watch.” She cupped her husband’s package, squeezing, molding, manipulating. “See how hard he is.”

  Lola’s eyes went wide, unable to take her gaze off the growing—and fairly impressive—package the woman held in her grip. Gray wondered if she always pimped for her husband.

  “Thank you for the offer,” he said politely. “Let me take it under consideration later in the evening.” Lola made a choking sound and tightened her hold on his hand almost to the point of pain.

  Finally Gray led them closer to the fireplace, pulling away from the main crowd to lean against the mantel, tucking Lola beneath his arm. “Shall I give you to him?”

  She shook her head violently. He had no intention, but he enjoyed her reaction. He liked it when she got feisty. Then some activity caught his eye. “Look at that, baby,” he whispered into her hair. “It’s starting.”

  On a leather corner group, a woman lay back between her partner’s spread legs as another man pushed her skirt to her waist and buried his face at the apex of her thighs. The sight was almost ignored by many in the company, only a few heads turning. But Lola was suddenly flush up against him, her arm around his waist.

  “You’ve never seen a live sex show.”

  She shook her head, the movement disturbing the air around them. Her scent rose. Arousal, sweet, hot, and thick.

  The woman on the couch began to moan and thrash. Her husband held her arms, whispered dirty things in her ear. They were attracting attention now, and the activity caused a ripple effect, a hand down a dress here, beneath a skirt there, slacks unzippered over there, stroking, kissing, touching, watching.

  “Do you want to be the center of attention like that?”

  Against him, Lola didn’t move, her gaze intent, but her tension vibrating along his side. It was part nerves and part sexual, he was sure.

  “Roll her over and fuck her doggy, Bert,” a male voice called.

  “Make her suck cock at the same time.” That was a woman, the redhead. Gray recognized her smoky tones.

  Bert reared back and in conjunction with her partner, they rolled her to her knees. She immediately unzipped the pants right in front of her and starting sucking while Bert donned a condom and impaled her. For long moments, there was only the slap of flesh and the slurp of her mouth. They had their audience’s rapt attention. Lola’s fingers clutched at his back.

  “You want that, baby?” His lips were close enough to taste the sweetness of her skin as he spoke. She didn’t answer, she didn’t move. She barely breathed. He enjoyed the show, but mostly for her reaction, for how tightly she held him.

  The tableau on the couch became a three-way simultaneous orgasm, a lot of shouting, groaning, moaning, much of which Gray believed was exaggerated. Then they collapsed in a heap on the leather. A round of applause followed, and from amid the audience, a woman strode to the couch, lifted Bert’s head by his hair and said, “My turn, sweetheart. But I want her to do the licking.” The applause was followed by a burst of laughter and a lot of whispering.

  Jackie was on them almost immediately after the show’s conclusion. “Oh, you two can’t hide out over here all by yourselves.” She began a slow massage of his arm. “Why don’t you give me an idea of what you’re looking for specifically.” She pointed a long-nailed finger. “We’re always happy to accommodate such a lovely”—she put her hand on his chest, discovering his nipple and squeezing—“couple.”

  There was no couple about it. Jackie was only interested in him. He could smell the arousal rising from her, the scent slightly off-putting, nothing like Lola’s sweetness.

  He glanced down at her, then at her hand, a hint of disdain curling his lip, and finally at Lola. Just in time to see the glass in her hand tip slowly to the side, pouring champagne all over Jackie’s spike-heeled shoes.<
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  * * *

  LOLA WAS QUIVERING WITH JEALOUSY, DESIRE, AND FEAR.

  That horrible Jackie was staring at her shoes, her mouth open. And Lola felt utterly satisfied.

  Gray had dropped his hold on Lola and fixed her with a look that made her bottom tingle in anticipation and terror. With a deep breath, she stared him down. Oh, she wanted to push him, goad him. All she had to do was speak.

  He spoke first. “What did you just do?” His eyes were dark, unreadable.

  She was allowed to answer his questions. So it wasn’t breaking a rule. Too bad. She felt like breaking a lot of rules. She arched an eyebrow and added a sly little smile for him. “It was an accident.”

  One minute she’d been mesmerized by raw sex right before her very eyes, the next that woman had put her hands on him. She didn’t like any of these people, the way they looked her up and down as if she were horseflesh for sale. But mostly she hated seeing that woman’s harpy-red nails against Gray’s shirt, hated the pinch on his nipple. She was sure he’d liked it. That was the worst part. And she’d simply lost control. So it was an accident. Sort of.

  “Are you lying, Lola?” His voice was low, menacing.

  Lola swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Nerves. Anticipation. It was a good feeling. She nodded her head.

  “Then tell me why you did it?”

  “She didn’t ask for permission. And the rule is that you have to ask for permission from the partner.”

  Jackie snorted. “Permission for sex, not for simply putting my hand on his chest.”

  Lola narrowed her eyes on the bitch. “You pinched his nipple. That’s sexual.”

  “Oh, please.” Jackie pursed her lips. “She’s your submissive, Gray. You need to control her. She ruined my shoes.”

  Gray stood back, arms folded over his chest. “Lola’s right. You didn’t ask for permission. And she deserves the courtesy even if she is my submissive.” He looked at Lola, dark and forbidding. “But she does need to be controlled. Bring me a chair.” Then he added, “Now,” when Jackie didn’t jump at his command.

  “A chair?” The woman’s voice came out in a squeak.

  Lola’s heart started to pound, and she suddenly realized the implications of what she’d started. Please, please, please don’t make me get naked in front of these people. She sent him the message with her eyes. The idea had been exciting and frightening when they first walked up those steps, now it was simply terrifying. She didn’t like them. She didn’t want them. The live sex show had been exciting, gotten her wet, but she realized she didn’t want to be one of the performers. Not with these people. They were too . . . lascivious.

  Gray didn’t read her silent message. Or he ignored it. Grabbing her arm, he hauled her across the living room, parting all those horrible people, dragging her through them like a naughty child who’d just thrown a tantrum in the middle of a crowded department store. Then he stood her behind a dining room chair and said, “Assume the position.”

  He would lift her skirt. She was naked underneath. They would all see. Lola’s face burned at the thought of being exposed before them all. Yet she was wet for him. Wet for his hand on her, smacking her, caressing her. Two opposing sets of emotions. Her whole body quivered, wanting, needing, and hating it all at the same time.

  “Assume. The. Position.” He snapped out each word separately.

  She could have walked away from him. She could simply have said no. She could have begged and cried. There were any number of things she could have done to make him stop. But Gray was looking at her, commanding her. And Lola wanted his hand on her despite their audience.

  She wrapped her fingers around the chairback, bent slightly, legs spread to balance herself, and presented her bottom for Coach to take advantage of.

  The first swat was muted through her skirt, not full flesh on flesh. But it stung. And she got wetter. He slapped her again, his hand lingering. Then again and again, slap, caress, slap, caress. He’d made her love the pain as much as the pleasure, the punishment as much as the reward. She wanted more. She needed it. She no longer cared about Jackie. She didn’t care about the avid, greedy crowd watching her, devouring her, demanding satisfaction. She cared only about his touch. Only about him.

  She closed her eyes, absorbed the blows, the sweet torturing touches. Panting, her fingers tight and painful along the top rail of the chair, she eased back, giving better access. If he’d lifted her skirt and taken her right then, in front of everyone, she wouldn’t have fought. She’d have come. So close. God. Almost there. Please.

  Then he stopped. Lola could have cried.

  “I apologize. My submissive was obviously not ready for this excursion. My fault. A master is responsible for what his submissive does.” He shackled her with a hand around her wrist. She felt him bow courteously. “If you’ll excuse us.”

  Lola kept her eyes closed, allowing him to lead her, trusting him.

  The house had felt hot and stuffy, too many bodies, all that perfume. But the night air caressed her skin. Her body was still quivering, needy. She almost tripped on the steps. Gray held her up. She opened her eyes, skipping to keep up with him as he marched to the car at the bottom of the drive.

  The same imp that had gotten hold of her when she let the champagne glass slip sideways in her hand suddenly took over again. She pushed him up against the driver’s side door, fisting his shirt in her hands. “I am not letting some witch like Jackie have you, do you hear me?”

  He wrapped his hands around hers. “I had no idea you were such a jealous little wench.”

  “I’m not.” She raised her nose in the air. “I just didn’t like her.”

  “There were plenty of others,” he said mildly, but against her stomach, he was hard.

  “I didn’t like any of them.”

  He moved suddenly, turned with her, pressed her against the car, lifted her, and plopped her down on the hood. Her bottom stung pleasantly, the metal still warm from the afternoon heat and the drive. She spread her legs to accommodate him, then locked her ankles at his back, trapping him to her.

  “But you liked watching the sex. You were wet.” He insinuated a hand between their bodies, palmed her. “And you are so fucking wet right now.”

  She couldn’t deny what he could feel for himself. “I am not taking my clothes off in front of them. I am not exposing myself.” But watching had indeed been sexy and tantalizing. And his hand between her legs was pushing her back up on the same cliff he’d taken her to with his spanking.

  “So you’ll watch, but you won’t do.”

  “I don’t want any of them to have a piece of me. Not even to watch me.” And hell if she’d let them have a piece of Gray.

  Then she couldn’t resist her own needs. Hands on his face, she pulled him close. “Stop talking.” She kissed him, opened her mouth, invaded his, tasted, took. Like she was the mistress and he was her slave.

  He growled deep in his throat, melting her bones with his returning kiss. Her skirt was suddenly up around her hips, his hands all over her, his fingers filling her. Lola had to break the kiss, throwing her head back, gasping. “Oh God.”

  “Oh Gray,” he said for her.

  Then he was freeing himself, his flesh spilling into her hand. She stroked the rock-hard length. “I love how you feel in my hand.” She loved the look of him, the thick, hard flesh. She found a bead of pre-come on the tip and swirled it around his crown. Then she looked up.

  His eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Tell me you need it. Beg me to fuck you right now.”

  “God, please, yes, Gray. I need you inside me.” He’d tossed her up on the ledge with his spanking. Now she needed him to push her off into bliss.

  He made fast work of the condom he had in his pocket. Then he stopped at her entrance. “Put me inside you.”

  Lola curled her fingers around his cock, stroked herself with him, up, down, circling, made him wet with her natural lubricant.

  “Stop playing.” His voice was stran
gled.

  “I like playing,” she whispered. “I like you right here.” She demonstrated, using him to stroke her clitoris, a soft moan slipping past her lips.

  “Fuck, you make me crazy.” He took her mouth, kissing her hard, deep, forcing her head back. His hand wrapped around hers, directed, and with one hand on her hip, he plunged.

  Then he was pounding. Lola lost count after the fourth thrust. She was gone pretty soon after, high-diving off the cliff edge, and dragging him right along with her.

  24

  “FUCK,” HE WHISPERED AGAINST HER FRAGRANT HAIR. LOLA mumbled an agreeing sentiment.

  She made him lose his mind. It took long minutes for him to find it again. His cock was still throbbing, and he savored the feel of her around him.

  How the hell did she do that to him? He’d planned . . . God, what? To get her excited to the point of letting him do her in front of that crowd. It had sounded like a good idea. But she’d poured that glass of champagne over Jackie’s shoes, turned his plans upside down, and given him something so much better.

  The spanking had been spectacular, their audience more enraptured than they’d been watching a three-way fuck.

  Then Lola had taken him. Owned him.

  He shuddered with orgasmic aftershock. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, her face buried against his chest. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.

  She mumbled into his shirt. He figured it was a yes.

  He loved her jealousy. Maybe in the back of his mind, he’d set out to incite it. Whatever, it had given the night a twist that knocked him sideways. Somehow, he found himself unable to expose her. Like she was his and his only. They could have a bare minimum taste, but the rest was all his.

  “We can’t stay like this all night.” But he wanted to. Her hair stuck to his lips. He pulled it away. “Baby.”

  She leaned back in his arms. Blinked lazily. “Why not?” Then she seemed to focus on something past his shoulder. “Oh my God.”

  Gray turned, following her gaze. The party guests lined the windows, dark shapes with the light behind them.