by Amiee Louise
There are around ten or more girls walking around in various stages of undress, ranging from tall, to short, from thin to curvy, black, to white and everything in between. It is nothing if not diverse. The back of the club houses the well-stocked bar, which is black leather on the outside and has a white marble top. There is a grand staircase off to the right side of the club, which has LED lit stairs leading up to the section which states ‘V.I.P’s only’. Heidi sidles up next to me and grips my bicep suggestively.
“This way, gentlemen,” she purrs, and she starts up the stairs.
I raise my eyebrows at Lucas, and he smirks. I follow her up the stairs, as she swings her hips from side to side. I drop my gaze to the floor, actually more than a little embarrassed that my cock hasn’t stirred once since stepping into the club.
“Seriously, wouldn’t you tap that, dude?” Lucas drawls, and I shake my head.
“I’m not one for blondes these days, man,” I lie. What I really want to say is ‘I’m not really one for women who aren’t Peyton these days.’
I swallow back the lump in my throat and shake that thought away. We get to the top of the stairs, and it is decorated in the same style as downstairs. But instead of tables and chairs scattered around, there is a series of booths running down both sides of the club and an area in the middle where there are a set of podiums and naked women dancing atop them. Heidi leads us into a booth with black Chesterfield couches on either side and a marble top table in between the two. I sit down on the one side, and Lucas sits opposite me.
“What can I get for you, gentlemen?”
I look to Lucas, and he rolls his eyes as my eyes start to wander, taking in my surroundings. There are five podiums, and my eyes lock on a stunning brunette who is gyrating against a pole. She is naked apart from a black lacy thong, and she has a tattoo across her chest. She catches me staring at her, and she winks at me. I quickly turn back to face Lucas. What the fucking fuck is wrong with you, Newbolt?
“Bottle of Jack and three glasses please, sweetheart. Could we get two bottles of Cristal champagne too, please? Three glasses.”
She smiles at him and flashes him a cheeky wink.
“Coming up, handsome.”
She sashays off across the club and Brody joins us. He dives into the booth next to me, and we all laugh at his outlandish behaviour.
“Chin up, you miserable fucker, you’re my wingman tonight, Sammy, I need you on top form.”
He laughs.
“So, what are you fuckers in the mood for tonight, blonde, brunette, redhead or something...a little bit more exotic?”
Brody swipes his split tongue across his bottom lip and wiggles it suggestively, causing Lucas and me to laugh out loud at his over the top behaviour, which is typically Brody.
“Dude, I think our Sammy needs a little pick me up, say a few tequila shots? He refused Miss-Come-Fuck-Me-Now over there. She was showing all the signs, man, the cheeky wink, the subtle bicep brush, dude, she even shook her tight, peachy little ass in his face on the way up the stairs and nothing from our boy here,” Lucas explains, and Brody looks at me with disgust.
“Fuck me, man, what the fuck? She’s gorgeous, I would be more than happy to take her to heaven, dude; I’m not picky when it comes to your sloppy seconds, it’s been too fucking long!”
He laughs, and Heidi comes back over to the table with the bottle of Jack, three glasses, two bottles of champagne in two ice buckets and three champagne flutes. She sets them down on the table, giving me a blatant peek at her perky breasts. I glance and then look away; Brody notices and clears his throat, smiling wickedly.
“Heidi.”
Brody winks at her, and she drapes herself over his lap.
“How are you doing this evening, gorgeous?”
He nods, and she runs her perfectly manicured fingernails down his chest. He brings her hand up to his mouth and plants a kiss on the back.
“I’m all good, look, darling, you see we’ve got a little fucking problem. My man Sammy here is feeling...a little fucking lonely, and he needs a playmate. Do you think you could help him out, sweetheart?”
She giggles and nods as Lucas starts pouring us all a drink.
“Of course, anything for you, B. You’re Lenny’s boy, he likes to keep you happy, and that includes keeping your handsome friends happy too.”
He nods.
“Good girl.”
Heidi looks at me as if she is undressing me with her eyes and I look shyly away. Fuck my life, what is wrong with me? I never act this way, not when it comes to women. Pull yourself together, dick.
“Any preference, Sam?”
Brody’s voice cuts through my thoughts. I am silent, as I pick up my glass with a trembling hand. Brody notices, and he clears his throat to avert Heidi’s attention away from me.
“He’s really not fussy, sweets.”
He winks, and I smile, grateful for his intervention. Heidi cups his face in both of her hands and kisses him on the lips.
“I’ll take care of it personally, gorgeous.”
She winks and whispers seductively in his ear.
“Oh, could you get us some tequila shots and few slices of lime please, darlin’? And keep ‘em coming? Put it on my tab.”
He winks, and she nods, as she lifts herself off his lap. She walks across the club, swinging her hips from side to side seductively, as if she can sense Brody's eyes on her. Brody adjusts himself in his jeans, wipes his lips with the back of his hand, and puffs out his cheeks.
“Fuck me, that girl is hotter than Hades. I’m skipping heaven, dude, and I'm going straight to hell, seriously.”
I chuckle softly, and he hits me playfully.
“Snap out of it, for fuck's sake, dude. You need to get laid, and if my girl Heidi has anything to do with it, you’ll get your dick wet, and you'll be drowning in fucking pussy for the rest of the night. That’s an ideal way to go out from this mortal fucking coil, wouldn’t you agree?”
I down my whiskey and I welcome the burn, as it slides down my throat.
“You need to show the world that infamous ladies’ man. Bolt is well and truly back on the fucking market.”
Lucas beckons a tall, leggy, small-breasted redhead, with deep jade green eyes who is dressed in a green thong and a pale green lacy garter over to us, and she struts over to our table. She leans down, and Lucas whispers in her ear, tucking a wad of notes in the garter, as she brushes her naked breasts against his chest. He grabs her hand, gets up, and gives us a thumbs up, as he leads her off to a private room. That leaves just Brody and me sitting in the booth. Brody pours us both more whiskey, and he looks at me.
“What the fuck, dude? You need to get your fucking head back in the game; do you think we came here just to get you out of your man cave? No, we came here to get you kneedeep in pussy.”
I knock back my whiskey and grimace at the burn in my throat.
“I can’t do this, Brody, I’ve still got that gaping hole in my chest. It’s been six fucking months, and everywhere I go I see her. She’s in my dreams, she’s in every memory, she’s in every lyric I sing, she’s...”
Brody stops me and pours more whiskey into my glass.
“Stop! I get that, dude, I really fucking do, but you need to stop thinking, just for a little while. Stop thinking with your big head and think with the little head in your pants. Pick yourself a playmate and bury your dick so far inside her snatch that you’re tickling her fucking tonsils.”
I shoot back my drink, run my hand through my spiky hair, and glance over to the podium where the brunette’s eyes roam hungrily over my body. Brody nudges me and urges me forward.
“You’re up, dude, she’s giving you the eyes, give her the Sam Newbolt experience. Show her a good time. Jobs a good ‘un, rinse and fucking repeat.”
He winks and clucks his teeth at me.
“Come on, Sam, for fuck's sake, you’ve never needed this much persuading before. Get your head out of your fucking arse, you cocksucker!
”
I stand up and twist my head from side to side. Deep down, I know Brody is right. Come on, Newbolt, get it the fuck together. I plaster a smile on my face, and Brody slaps me on the back in encouragement.
“That’s my boy; go fuckin’ get ‘em, tiger.”
I go to walk away, but Brody stops me. He takes out a strip of condoms from his pocket and hands them to me.
“You might need these, dude; your little gentleman needs a fucking suit.”
He winks, and I saunter casually over to the brunette, who has stepped down from the podium, with my hands tucked into my pockets, trying to halt the slight tremble that is still clearly visible. She walks slowly towards me, and I take her in, she is medium height, brunette. She is stunning, has amber coloured eyes, long brown wavy hair tied up in a high ponytail, and she has a slight tan and curves in all the right places. She has a tattoo across her naked chest of two brightly coloured swallows and a large birdcage in the centre of her sternum. She has quite large breasts, with a piercing in her left nipple, and is wearing a black lacy thong with a pair of fuck me heels. She smiles brightly as she stops in front of me, the scent of her perfume invading my nostrils. I run my finger down her arm.
“Hey, gorgeous,” I rasp.
“Hey yourself, handsome,” she purrs and moves closer to me as she swipes her pierced tongue across her bottom lip.
“Can I help you with something, hot stuff?”
She places her hand on my chest, and I chuckle softly.
“Yeah, you could say that, beautiful.”
I cock my pierced eyebrow, and she nods as I flash her my famous Newbolt grin.
“Follow me; we'll go somewhere more...private. Special clients get special privileges.”
She winks, grabs my hand and leads me to a dimly lit corridor.
“So, you’re the famous, Bolt?”
I nod coolly, as she sashays in front of me.
“The very same, gorgeous,” I say gruffly, as she leads me into a private room.
She whispers to the bouncer and closes the door behind us. There is a white curved booth in the middle of the room; the walls and the ceiling are mirrored. The lighting is soft and tinged with pink. She pushes me down in the booth and climbs on my lap. She gyrates her hips and grinds herself onto me, giving me a lap dance.
“Do you have a name, sweetheart?”
She laughs, and as she licks her bottom lip, I feel my cock stir in my pants as if he has just woken up from a six-month slumber. Fucking traitor.
“Cherry.”
I nod, and I’m about to speak when she silences me by putting her finger to my lips.
“I know who you are, no real names in here, honey. I’m Cherry, and you’re Bolt.”
I raise my eyebrows and smirk. If that’s the way she wants to play this, then bring it the fuck on. I suck her finger seductively into my mouth, and she lets out a small whimper.
“That works for me, Cherry.”
I practically fuck her name, and she seems to relax as she continues her lap dance. I look at her and take in her curves as she lowers herself down onto my lap, brushing my growing erection with every swing of her hips, making her intentions clear.
“God, you’re so fucking fit!”
I laugh at her compliment and spread my arms out across the back of the booth.
“Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself, sweetheart,” I say smoothly, and she smiles shyly.
“I usually get landed with the old, fat mingers.”
I reach up and pull her hair loose; it falls down in a chocolate brown cascade around her shoulders.
“Well, it’s lucky I’m neither old, fat, nor a minger. Last time I checked, I was quite the opposite, sweetheart.”
I pull her closer to me and nip her neck until she is writhing on my lap. She slides her hand into my shirt and lazily roams over my chest. I cup her breast in my other hand and gently knead it. Definitely all natural, no silicone here. Thank fuck for small mercies.
“Mmmm,” she moans softly as I nuzzle my face into her neck and nip her earlobe between my teeth.
“You like that, sweetheart?” I rasp, and she shivers in my arms.
“I’ve seen you in interviews, but the girls weren’t lying when they said your voice...” she whispers, and I silence her by crushing my lips to hers, gently stroking my tongue along hers. I pull away and look up into her innocent, golden eyes.
“Ah, ah, I thought we weren’t doing real names? That includes talking about who I am, what I do, who I have, or haven't, slept with and how much is in my bank account. In here, I’m just ordinary, regular Bolt.”
She giggles, and I lean down, taking her nipple into my mouth. She gasps aloud and writhes in my lap, causing my erection to grow painfully stiff. She reaches back and rubs my erection through my trousers. I growl, and in an instant, I lift her up, lay her down across the booth and undo my belt. I take it off and grasp her wrists, holding them prisoner above her head. I loop the belt around them and tighten it, suddenly feeling a little unsure of myself. What the fuck am I doing?
“Is...Is this ok?”
She bites her lip and nods.
“You’re a kinky one.”
I wink cheekily, but the truth of it is, I can't bear for another woman to touch me the way Peyton did.
“Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t even gotten started yet.”
I unzip my trousers, reach into my boxers, and fist my erection in my hand.
“Fuck, your...your muscles are...huge!” she blurts out, and her cheeks stain an adorable shade of dark pink.
I smile and bite my lip piercing suggestively.
“Are you sure it’s just my muscles, sweetheart?” I rasp, and she shakes her head.
“You’ve got the whole fucking package, honey, now get over here and fuck me hot stuff.”
I move back over to her, and my hands dance over her slim frame, causing her body to erupt with goosebumps.
“All in good time, sweetheart. Good things come to those who wait; come being the operative word, babe,” I say suggestively.
I sit back on my haunches and move her black lacy thong to the side, giving me full access to her glistening pink slit. I swipe my finger up her wetness, and she arches her back. Fuck me, she's soaking.
“Oh God!” she moans.
“You like that?”
She nods, and I push my finger deep inside her, expertly twisting it to stroke her inner walls.
“Oh, Jesus!”
I chuckle softly pulling my fingers free of her slickness. I wink, and she smiles a genuine smile. As she smiles, her face morphs into Peyton’s, and I jump off her as if she has burned me. Not now, fuck me, not now.
“What’s wrong, hot stuff? Did I do something wrong?”
I sink to the floor and run my hands through my hair. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Fuck, this was a mistake, I’m sorry.”
My voice is barely a whisper, and she manages to sit up.
“Untie me, please?”
I quickly untie her hands from the confines of my belt, and she sits down on the floor next to me with a concerned look on her face.
“Did I do something wrong?”
She places her hand on my bicep, and I flinch away from her. I scramble across the floor like a scared animal and get to my feet. I pace the floor, and she sits on the edge of the booth, straightening her thong.
“Look, I don’t know what I did wrong, honey. I know we weren’t doing real names, but if it makes it easier for you, I’m Angelique, but you can call me Angel.”
As she says her name, I feel all the colour drain from my face. Angel. The name I used to call Peyton. My stomach roils, and I feel bile rising in my throat. Fuck me, I think I’m going to throw up. Breathe Newbolt, breathe.
“FUCK!” I curse loudly, and she stands up.
“I’ve never had that reaction to hearing my real name before; throw a girl a rope, honey.”
I appreciate her attempt at humour, but the thoughts in my h
ead are warring with my heart. My head is telling me to forget her and move on, just bury my cock to bury the pain inside me. My heart is telling me that I’m betraying her and defiling her memory by using other women to get over her. The truth is, I’ll never be over her, but can I really go through life wondering what if and living in the past, wondering what could have been? My head is swimming with unwanted thoughts, and I have to get out of here. I haphazardly zip up my trousers and the tremor in my hands returning with a vengeance. She stands there watching me, and as she sees me trembling, she moves closer. She brushes my hand.
