His phone buzzed with another message from Cap asking him if he thought he could make it. I don’t think Connie will be there tonight, he assured Luke. But I have a couple I want you to meet. They love adding another guy.
“What do you think, Alfie?” he asked his canine companion. The waves were crashing so loudly, they nearly swallowed up the sound of his voice. He wished he’d brought a Frisbee or a ball for Alfie to fetch. The dog ignored him and charged into the foamy surf.
He didn’t know when he’d get another weekend to himself. Maybe I should just go for it, he thought. What’s the worst that could happen?
He could already tell The Factory had a different vibe than when he’d been there the weekend before. The music even seemed different, more intense, more entrancing. Club members were wearing mostly black. Lots of leather, chains, studs, masks, floggers. BDSM night was a whole different feel, and Luke felt even more out of place than he had before.
After signing in, he went directly to the bar to check in his liquor. He was talking to the bartender when he felt a tap on his shoulder. He whipped around to see Casey standing there, a curvy brunette at her side.
“So, let me get this straight,” Casey’s hands were firmly planted on her ample hips as she projected her voice over the blaring music, “you’re not only married, but you’re my sister’s boss?”
The bartender slid Luke’s drink in front of him just in time for him to fist it and down the whole thing. When he finished, Casey was still standing there, piercing him with her blue gaze that looked astonishingly like her sister’s.
“I’m sorry,” Luke said, stretching his hand toward the brunette. “I’m Luke. It’s nice to meet you.”
The brunette was younger than him, probably mid-thirties, and had beautiful glowing ivory skin. The corners of her full lips turned up as she shook his hand firmly. “I’m Paisley, the club manager. It’s nice to have you here tonight. Thanks for coming.”
Casey shook her head as an apologetic smile spread her red-painted lips. “How rude of me! I didn’t realize you hadn’t met. Sorry, Paisley.” She turned briefly toward her female companion before focusing her attention back on Luke. “I’m a bit overprotective of my little sister. I’m sure you understand.”
“Of course I do. I wasn’t trying to make such a mess of things,” he explained. “It’s just a special talent I seem to have.”
“Cap knows you’re married, right?” Casey’s perfectly groomed auburn eyebrow arched.
“Oh, this is the dude your sister danced with last Saturday?” Paisley seemed to be clueing in to the situation. Her expression shifted to one of fully justified indignation.
Luke nodded. “Yes, but—”
“But?” Casey shook her head. “Usually the cheating guys get run out of here pretty fast. Hardly anyone wants to invite that kind of drama into their lives. We’re here to have fun, after all.”
“I understand that, but my situation is...” He signaled to the bartender for another drink. The one he’d just gulped down didn’t seem to have the fortifying effect he needed to make it through this conversation. “My situation is...complicated.”
Paisley rolled her eyes as her hands flew to her ample hips. “That’s what they all say. Most of them are lying.”
Casey straightened her spine. “I’ve known Cap a long time, though. If he invited you here, he had a good reason to.”
“So what’s the situation?” Paisley’s brows lifted curiously as she pinned her gaze on Luke.
“My wife and I don’t have sex,” he offered, trying to keep it as simple as possible. He never wanted to venture down this road with Cap, let alone two women he’d just met. It was absolutely mortifying!
“Don’t have sex three times a day?” Paisley questioned. “Like you’re entitled to it whenever you want?”
He sighed. No, he definitely wasn’t planning on having this conversation tonight. He thought swingers were supposed to be non-judgmental. “Is it entitlement if you expect your spouse to have sex with you sometimes? Is it entitlement to believe, when you’re pronounced husband and wife, you’re obligated to fulfill each other’s sexual needs?”
“‘Obligated’ is a strong word,” Paisley noted. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”
“I agree, it sounds...old-fashioned,” Luke replied. “In an ideal world, spouses would want to take care of each other’s needs. But what happens when one of them decides it’s off the table? Is it ‘entitlement’ if the other spouse isn’t okay with that?”
The two women exchanged a look, but neither of them said anything.
“At what point does it become entitlement?” He was getting riled up now; the whiskey was doing something after all. “Once a week? Once a month? Once a year?”
Casey shrugged. “Well, it might cross a line if you expect it at least once a week.”
“That wouldn’t be enough for me!” Paisley said with a deep, rumbling laugh.
“My wife and I stopped having sex ten years ago,” Luke explained. When the words slipped off his tongue, it felt like air rushing out of a balloon.
Paisley’s nose crinkled. “Ten years? That’s a long time. Why are you still with her?”
That had been Cap’s question as well.
Luke’s lungs expelled the rest of the air they’d been holding before he sucked in another sharp breath. “She’s got some medical issues—she says it’s too painful.”
“Oh,” Casey said. “You can’t expect her to have sex if it hurts her. But you can do other things together...right?”
Luke had vague memories of that conversation with Barbara shortly after her once or twice a year acquiescence had come to a grinding halt. He always wondered what he would have done differently if he knew the last time would be the last time. It was Valentine’s Day ten years ago. That meant it had been ten years, three months, and a handful of days.
He let out a little scoff as he recalled his wife’s righteous indignation when he suggested that perhaps she could attend to his needs that didn’t just magically disappear once she decided sex was off the table for her. “No...she thinks if she doesn’t want to do anything sexually, then I shouldn’t either.”
Paisley’s eyes widened. “Wow, that’s fucked up. And she won’t let you find someone else?”
He shook his head. “But she accuses me of it regularly. I hadn’t so much as touched another woman until I danced with Connie last weekend.” He scrubbed his hands down his face, feeling like an asshole for even talking about this with two strangers. “I know she’s got medical issues—and I’m supposed to take care of her ‘in sickness and in health.’ I want to do that. That’s what I signed up for. It’s just...it’s been a long ten years. And we still don’t know exactly what’s wrong with her.”
“Have you guys gone to counseling?” Casey suggested as though it was some sort of novel idea.
“Yeah, early into it. The therapist just said I needed to be patient with her and try to see things from her point of view. Being in pain made her resentful...and so on and so forth.” He smirked as he watched the two ladies’ expressions morph into concern.
“Sounds like you need a new therapist,” Paisley said. “I can suggest one—”
Luke shrugged. “You know what? At this point, I don’t think we could ever repair the damage that’s been done.”
“So...I still don’t understand why you don’t divorce her.” Casey folded her arms across her chest, crinkling the black taffeta dress she was wearing. On her head, she donned a little pillbox-shaped hat with a black netted veil that dipped down over one of her eyes. She looked like a throwback to the 1940s while Paisley was wearing a sheer black babydoll that just barely contained her lush, milky white breasts with a red satin bow underneath.
“Well, I am supposed to be taking care of her...” His voice trailed off as he suddenly realized how distracting Paisley’s mesmerizing cleavage was. And he didn’t want to bore them with the sordid details of his wife’s threats and her fami
ly’s propensity for litigation.
Cap came through the back entrance to the bar, his face lighting up when he saw Luke. He hurried around the edge of the counter and slid right between the two women, wrapping an arm around both of their waists. He too seemed drawn to Paisley’s stunning décolletage. “Damn, woman, I didn’t think your tits could get any more spectacular but—”
“Yeah, pregnancy has made them even bigger!” Paisley gushed, covering her giggle with her hand. “Calvin is in heaven.”
Luke hadn’t realized Paisley was pregnant, but when he looked below the red satin bow, he did notice there was a bit of a curve to her stomach. She couldn’t be more than a few months along, though. She had a beautifully curvy figure, like she stepped right out of one of Rubens’ famous paintings. He’d always admired that artist’s work.
“So it really is just sheer coincidence that you hired Connie at your practice?” Casey was clearly not finished with their conversation. “You didn’t recognize her when you were here last week?”
Luke didn’t appreciate the accusatory tone. He was quite capable of taking responsibility for his doggish behavior of wanting to cheat on his wife, but he wouldn’t accept blame for something he didn’t do. “I didn’t hire her. My partner did. I knew the new nurse’s name was Constance Stewart, but I didn’t put two and two together when we met last week. Besides, I was expecting someone older—”
“Connie does look fantastic for fifty-nine,” Casey agreed.
Luke struggled to keep his jaw from dropping. Fifty-nine? There was no way in hell she could be that much older than him. He’d thought, judging by her resume, she might be in her early-to-mid fifties, but to look at her, he would have guessed she was younger than his forty-eight years.
“She looks amazing,” he agreed, still trying to keep his surprise in check. “And I’m sorry I caused such an uncomfortable situation for her. I feel really horrible about it.”
“Connie is resilient,” her sister explained. “She’ll bounce back. She’s dealt with a lot of bullshit from men through the years. But her ex-husband cheated on her, so I can’t imagine she’d be okay seeing someone who is married, even if you do have extenuating circumstances.”
He nodded as he absorbed her words. “I understand. And, well, it doesn’t matter now anyway since she works for me.”
Casey gave a sad nod of agreement, then turned to Cap. “So what are we going to do to help Luke with his...dry spell?”
Luke’s face brightened, surprised Casey would characterize it that way. She seemed to be saying she didn’t want him near her sister, but someone else at the club might be fair game. Maybe she understood the unspoken anguish in his story the way Cap had.
“So let me get this straight,” Paisley said, returning her focus back to Luke. “You haven’t fucked anyone for ten years?”
“Nope. I’ve not even been touched down there.” He glanced at his crotch. “I think that means I can reclaim my virginity.” He forced a laugh. It was a thought he’d had often, but he never was able to find it as funny as he wanted to.
“Well, damn, if Calvin and I weren’t taking a break from playing because I’m pregnant, I’d take you on back to one of the rooms and have my way with you.” She bit her lower lip seductively. “I’d love to take your virginity.”
Luke’s cock shot straight to attention at that. He wondered if there were any other sympathetic women who weren’t on a break.
“I’m going to introduce him to Bry and Tam,” Cap announced. Both women immediately smiled and nodded.
“Who are Bry and Tam?” Luke ventured. His erection was still straining against his zipper, excited by even the vague chance at gaining some attention, even if it was a longshot. It’s just like when I ask Alfie if he wants to go to the beach, Luke thought, and this time he was amused.
When Cap led Luke to the room where the mysterious Bry and Tam were, they weren’t exactly in a position for Cap to make introductions. “Bry and Tam” sounded like stage names, a traveling show. Luke wasn’t sure what to expect, but they were definitely living up to his preconceived notions of showmanship.
Bry was shirtless and rightfully so. Luke didn’t normally ogle male bodies, but Bry had the type of body that turned men green with envy. His arms were huge and bulging, his chest rippled, and two silver hoops glinted, one pierced through each nipple. Luke actually noticed him before he noticed his partner, who was bent over some sort of wooden bench, her legs spread and shackled. She had spike-heeled boots and ripped fishnet thigh-highs, and her shiny latex tube dress was pulled up to her waist, exposing her round ass with bright red handprints adorning each hemisphere.
Bry seemed not to notice them as he backed away from his sub to admire his handiwork. Satisfied with the crimson-colored impressions his hand had made on the woman’s glaringly white backside, he stepped to the other side of the bench, reaching down to lift her head with one fingertip under her chin.
“You’re going to take my cock now,” he growled, his voice so deep and commanding that Luke’s own cock twitched.
She looked up with a tear-streaked face and nodded.
“Answer me!” he demanded, producing a flogger from behind him in one fluid motion. He cracked it down on her back, causing her to jerk with the pain.
“Yes, Master,” she managed, the words garbled.
Bry unfastened his pants and pulled out a python of a penis, the biggest Luke had ever seen, and he’d watched his fair share of porn throughout the years. He coaxed his sub’s mouth open and then, with no hesitation at all, he shoved it down her throat until she choked, visibly heaving as she struggled to do her master’s bidding.
“Do you want this cock inside you?” his growl came again, a low rumble in the otherwise quiet space. The music from the dance floor could barely be heard this far back in the club. Luke had to hand it to whoever had soundproofed this old warehouse. They’d done a stellar job.
“Yes,” she mumbled around his enormous cock.
“Do you want two cocks inside you?”
When she didn’t answer, he cracked the flogger back down on her again.
“Yes, Master.”
“Good girl,” he praised her, stroking down her hair as she continued to move her mouth up and down his bulging shaft as skillfully as she could in her bent and chained position. “Only good girls who please their masters get to have two cocks.”
Luke didn’t know if it was the way the Dom said the words, the way his sub doubled her efforts on his cock, or the words themselves, but a surge of desire spiked through him from deep in his balls, radiating throughout his entire body. He was sure he’d just leaked a huge dollop of precum as his manhood continued to press so hard against his zipper, he thought it might cut into him.
His bubble of concentration was burst when Cap elbowed him in the side. “Well, what do you think?”
“It’s really fucking hot,” he managed to mumble, his eyes never leaving the scene.
“He’s promised me a turn.” Cap’s eyebrows waggled, which Luke caught from his peripherals as his attention only slightly veered from the scene unfolding before them.
The Dom unchained the sub and ordered her to lie on the bed with her legs and arms spread. He securely fastened her to the cuffs attached to each corner of the bed frame. The look in her eyes only intensified Luke’s desire. She was breathless, her mascara-streaked eyes blazing with desperation. But it was completely obvious she wasn’t desperate to get away. She needed to come. It was emblazoned on her face, and it was the very driving force behind the Dom’s next action.
Kneeling on the other side of her so his audience could watch, he teased the sub’s mouth open with the head of his cock. When her tongue darted out to lick the glistening pearl at the tip, he quickly withdrew it from her reach. Then in one swift motion he straddled her, dragging his cock down her chest, between her heaving breasts and all the way to her core. Luke could practically see it throbbing with desire from his perch in the doorway. The sub’s ba
ck arched off the mattress as she attempted to make contact with it. She wanted his cock inside her so badly, she strained against her cuffs, trying to lift her pelvis to where he hovered over her with a sly smile on his face and his hand fisting his manhood.
Luke had watched a lot of porn, even some BDSM porn. But he’d never ever seen anything this hot. Porn seemed so contrived, so fake compared to this. There was a sense of urgency in her moans, in her desperation that drove him to the brink just watching. He imagined what it would feel like to have a woman writhing beneath him like that, begging for his cock to fill her tight, wet pussy. The thought of being the sole object of a woman’s desire thrilled him.
“You’ve been such a good girl, I’m going to let Cap fuck you,” the Master said, eliciting an excited moan from the sub’s mouth.
“That’s my cue,” his friend said, a grin spreading on his face. “After this scene, they’ll probably take a break. Then I’ll introduce you, and we can see if she wants another round.” He gave a wink as he entered the room, already unfastening his pants.
It was strange to think of his friend and patient Chris Sheldon as a swinger. He’d gotten over the shock of him admitting to owning a swing club, but now, seeing him undress and reveal his own engorged and bobbing manhood, he had to admit it was weird as hell. But it didn’t suppress his own aching cock in the slightest. If anything, he was more aroused when the Master commanded his sub to take Cap’s cock, but she wasn’t allowed to climax—not yet. Not until he gave permission.
He wasn’t sure how much more he could watch without spontaneously erupting in his pants. How embarrassing would that be? he thought to himself as he briefly turned his head to glance down the hallway.
He caught a glimpse of Casey and Connie leaving another room.
FIVE
Turning the Tide (Eastern Shore Swingers, #5) Page 5