floor as she ground her ass backwards against him. No false pretenses of propriety here.
Next to them, another couple had been engaged in a slow, very tight sway, but at the sight of the blonde’s disrobing, the woman-a thin little thing with a short-cut shock of black hair-suddenly broke away from the sinuous embrace with an equally rail-thin guy and instead knelt before the sumptuous, formerly Harley-clad, blonde, pressing her face to the blonde’s belly and reaching her hands around to cup the ass of the bald guy, drawing the three of them tight. Her former partner didn’t waste a moment, but instead moved behind the kneeling woman and raised his hand to spank her miniskirted ass. The skirt slipped up after he delivered the first couple blows, driving the small woman’s face against the blonde’s bare belly, before she moved her mouth lower.
Mark watched the spectacle and Rae bit his ear and whispered, “I think you can get some blonde or brunette here if you want tonight. But you might have to use your hand on them.”
“You know I don’t like that,” he smiled.
She slapped his ass playfully. “Well, maybe what you need is a mistress, since you don’t want to be a master.”
Just then, another man in a black silk button-down shirt split off from where he’d been moving closely with a fat woman whose heavy chest seemed ready to explode from the overly constricted confines of her pink blouse at any moment. He grinned as he shook his hips and stepped across the floor three strides to slip his hands up on Rae’s hips. Mark smirked at the tuft of wiry black hair that escaped the man’s equally black shirt. He had a sudden image of his wife braiding the man’s chest hair. Now that would be a different kink from the usual whips and chains…
“Those who give it out, get it back double,” the man yelled at her over the music. He leaned in to smell Rae’s neck, then raised a hand and slapped her across the ass. Mark could hear the snap even above the speakers, and Rae visibly stiffened. And then she turned to give Mark her back, and the stranger her smile.
“I hope so,” Mark heard her say.
The tall man winked at Mark and pulled Rae in close, kneading her ass as the music changed tempos and went into a steady, pounding pulse. It was machine-gun sex set to music, and the new couple oozed together easily, Rae sinking into his chest and moving her hips to offer him access.
He toyed with her, moving in and away from her, and then put both palms out in front of her face. Mark watched her grin at the game, and she answered by putting both of her palms on his and pushing their hands into the air as she danced in closer to him, close enough that her nipples brushed lightly back and forth across the man’s chest. Then he moved her hands down from pointing at the ceiling, and her blouse slipped down her thin biceps, exposing the upper half of a smooth breast.
The man didn’t waste the moment. He put one hand on her upper arm and urged the sleeve lower. Then he pulled her arm up and out of it, and Rae was exposed on the dance floor, one breast hanging out for all to see. The man covered it with himself, palming her nipple in his hand. Instead of fixing herself or pulling away, Rae only tilted her head back and closed her eyes, running a tongue over hungry lips.
The man leaned in and whispered something. Rae responded with an openmouthed kiss. He accepted, bending in to swallow her tongue as she slipped her fingers up his neck and into his hair. They writhed sinuously together for several minutes, their bodies locked, their mouths hungrily tasting, as their hips still moved with the beat.
Finally, he began to lead her off the dance floor. As they moved, the stranger began to spank her ass, gently, but continuously, in time to the music. Rae looked over his shoulder and caught Mark’s eye and raised her eyebrows, as if to say
The green strobes poked the couple’s black outfits full of a hundred pinprick holes as they stumbled farther and farther away from the stage. The sound of the man’s hand against his wife’s ass echoed in time to the music and the two of them drifted across the floor away from Mark. He saw where they were going and shook his head.
The racks.
He didn’t understand Rae’s need for pain before accepting pleasure…sometimes it seemed that she wanted the violence more than the novelty of the new men inside her. But he knew he couldn’t give her the pain she craved. He’d tried using the floggers and paddles and he simply couldn’t go through with it. Not in a meaningful way.
Mark shook his head and smiled. His wife was insatiable; she could easily spread herself for five guys a day and somehow still wake up the next morning wanting more. He had been hurt and jealous once, when he realized that there was no way he could ever fulfill what she needed, not fully. But over time, he grew to realize that she did love him, even if she couldn’t tie herself to only one cock. She loved him even more for permitting her to exercise her needs with other men.
He let her go, knowing that he’d be the man she went home with. Sometimes he found himself a good lay at these clubs as well, while she indulged her pleasures, but he wasn’t driven to it, as she was. Mark would have been happy to have fucked Rae and only Rae for the rest of his life. She was a dynamo in bed-not surprisingly, since she never tired of slapping the sheets. Mark wasn’t opposed to fucking other women…thanks to Rae, he’d met some amazing females in the past five years at clubs like this. But he didn’t need it.
He couldn’t give her what she needed, that was for sure.
She always begged for him to hit her harder, and then begged him not to make her beg. He knew that he could never give her what she craved and so he let her go find it elsewhere, praying each time that she still loved him enough to come back.
And she always had.
Across the room, he saw her hold her wrists up in complete subservience, asking to be bound. Mark watched her clothing slip to the painted floor. After a while, he heard the sound of her twisted pleasure bleating above the screams of the techno music.
He edged his way off the dance floor after two men tried to sandwich him in a dance. In the regular world, Mark was pretty liberal-he let other men fuck his wife and had worn masks and costumes while fucking others himself. He’d given some floggings and taken them too, and he had no judgment on virtually any bacchanalia that Rae or his partners wanted to engage in. But he did have his preferences. And while he’d let a man flog him a time or two, he had no interest in dancing with one.
At the bar he ordered a bourbon, neat. Sin-D delivered it wearing only a smile. He couldn’t help but raise his eyebrows at her sultry brown skin. A pink jewel glimmered in the club light near the shadow of her belly button, and her breasts looked full and achingly ready for sin. She reminded him of the kind of girl you’d see playing volleyball in the middle of a summer’s day on Miami Beach. He realized that, below her neck, there didn’t appear to be a hair on her body.
“Looks like you’re a free man already, and I’m just a girl trapped here at the bar. I need to get me a double shot of love,” she said, stepping around the bar to ease her legs up and around his. She straddled his knee and he smelled the scent of vanilla and liquor on her breath. “You buying?”
Mark laughed at the bad pun and tilted back the bourbon, taking it all down with a burn and a cough.
“Let me pour you some,” he said and pulled her fully onto his lap. He ran his hands up her naked back and felt knobs of scarred flesh there.
“Occupational hazard,” he began, but her tongue choked out the rest of what he’d been about to say.
Amelia didn’t pause as she walked into tonight’s NightWhere. She knew the layout by now. No matter what old building they settled in for the night, the space seemed to look exactly the same. Just beyond the doorman was the rookie bar and grill. The newcomers fresh from the Triple A league of swingers clubs and peep show hallways clung there for a while before they discovered what the club was really all about. The Blue Room was the just the starting dance of the damned for those who had been recruited. With its go-go cages and air of total orgiastic abandon, it seemed like nirvana to the first-timer, but the reality was, its offerings were pedestrian compared to the deeper reaches of the club. They needed to prove they were worthy to take that next step before they were invited in. But most of them eventually were. Something set each of them apart from the usual pleasure-seekers at strip and swing clubs. Some deeper weakness, some darker kink. Some need that took them beyond the mundane pleasure- seeker and kink jockey.
The Blue Room held some S &M trappings-wooden racks with chained manacles lined one wall, where the pain play began. The sound of whips cracking echoed above the industrial dance music now and then, when the synthesizers grew quiet. But the neophytes were still all about the tease-strutting and baring it on the dance floor, switching partners with the unabashed glee of kids set loose without rules for the first time in the midst of a toy
