Naughty

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Naughty Page 6

by Velvet


  “Once the parents pick up their kids, and I put Noah to bed, we are going to bed, and I don’t mean to sleep.” Naomi walked over to her husband, grabbed him around the neck, and gave him a juicy kiss. “Don’t disappoint me tonight, Jacob. We’re long overdue, and I’m horny as hell.”

  “I promise, honey, tonight is our night.” He unwrapped her arms from around his neck and said, “Now go on downstairs, before Noah starts looking for you.”

  As soon as she left, Jacob began taking off his clothes and dressing the part of the Narrator. He looked at the books and wished that he could read every single last page in order to prolong putting off the dreaded lovemaking.

  He was buttoning the last button on the vest when his cell phone rang. He walked over to the dresser and picked it up. “Jacob Reed speaking.”

  “Jacob, I’m so glad I caught you. I just called your office and Charlotte said you had left for the day.”

  “Hello, Mira.” He looked at his watch. “Aren’t you supposed to be in the meeting with the board?”

  “Exactly!” she shouted in a muffled hush, as if trying not to be overheard.

  By the tone of her voice, he detected something was amiss. “Mira, what’s going on? Why aren’t you in the meeting?”

  “Because I’m in the lobby waiting for your ‘more than qualified’ associate,” Mira spat out, quoting his description of Nina.

  “Calm down, Mira. She’s only a few minutes late. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation. She’s probably lost, or in a traffic jam,” he suggested.

  Mira exhaled loudly. “Jacob, you know I despise tardiness.” She then continued. “I should have insisted that you come, instead of some lame-brained associate who can’t even find her way around London.”

  Mira Rhone was the epitome of the unyielding client who demanded nothing but absolute perfection. She expected everyone to perform like androids. And heaven forbid if someone should slip up and reveal a human trait like an honest mistake. “Mira, go on up to the meeting and I’ll locate Nina. I’m sure—”

  Before he could finish his sentence, Mira interrupted, “Don’t bother. She’s here.” Click.

  “What? No good-bye,” he mused to himself. “I’m sure Mira will give me an earful on the virtues of time management at our next meeting.” Though Mira was a tyrant, he still found her sexy and imagined how she would look wearing Naomi’s dress. The thought of Mira in that ruby red gown clinging to her every curve was making his dick hard. Calm down, boy. You’ll have her soon enough.

  He clicked the phone shut and put it back on the dresser, then continued with his transition into the Narrator. Jacob put on the blazer and smoothed the fabric with the palm of his hand. He put the glasses on and adjusted them on the tip of his nose. As he tucked the books underneath his arm and headed toward the doorway, the phone rang again. He assumed it was Mira calling back and smiled. He crossed the room, cleared his throat, and dropped his voice another register in an attempt to sound sexy. “Jacob Reed speaking; how may I help you?”

  “J . . .”

  All he heard were the sounds of someone sniffling. “Hello? Who is this?” he asked, changing back into his regular voice.

  “J . . . it’s . . . it’s . . . me.”

  “Tyler, is that you?” He was immediately alarmed. Jacob had never heard his sister sound so despondent. “What’s wrong? Are you alright?”

  “Everything’s wrong . . . I don’t . . . know what . . . I’m going to do,” Tyler said in between sobs.

  “Calm down, Tyler, and tell me what happened.”

  Tyler was eight years his junior and his only sibling. They had grown up in a tight-knit family in Queens. Their parents were in their mid-forties when Tyler was born; his mother would often say that Tyler was a change-of-life baby. Working eight hours a day as a file clerk and maintaining a household, their mother had little energy to spare for a toddler, and their father usually worked overtime as a train operator, and also had a part-time job on the weekend, so Jacob took Tyler under his wing. She went with him everywhere, to football practice, to Yankee games with him and his buddies, and even on dates to the drive-in. In some ways, she was the little brother he never had. Jacob wasn’t too surprised when, at the age of twelve, Tyler told him she liked girls and had a crush on his girlfriend. Jacob told her the attraction was just a phase and that she would outgrow it, but she never did.

  “Liz and I broke up.”

  She went on to tell him the sordid details. He was shocked. Liz was so reserved and seemed totally committed to their relationship. “Who is this guy and how long has she been seeing him?” Jacob asked.

  “After I calmed down, I went back home and she told me that he’s a former client of hers and they’ve been seeing each other since last March.” Tyler blew her nose. “Can you believe that? She’s been cheating on me for over a year.”

  “Did you know she was bisexual?” he asked, trying to find some type of justification for Liz’s actions.

  “No. She never expressed any interest in men. I guess that explains why she always wanted me to use the strap-on.” She chuckled lightly.

  Jacob coughed to clear his throat. He and Tyler were close, but he really wasn’t interested in hearing the intimate details of her sex life. “What are you going to do?” he asked, switching gears.

  She began to sniffle again. “I don’t know. Liz wants me to stay. She had the gall to say that she wants to date us both.”

  “Is that what you want?” Jacob knew his sister would never go for that arrangement. Tyler wasn’t the player type, she only dated one person at a time, and expected the same from her partner, but he asked just the same.

  “No. I want to move out, but I can’t afford to right now. My funds are tight. I just finished a big project, but who knows when I’ll land another assignment, and the money from my last project isn’t going to last forever.”

  “Don’t worry, T. I’ll wire some funds to your bank. What’s your account number?”

  “No, Jacob. I don’t want to take money away from your family. I’ll be alright. I just have to figure out my next move.” Tyler tried to put on a good game face, but inside, she felt totally helpless.

  Jacob had always been the protector of his little sister, especially after their parents passed away some years ago and he promised to look after her. He could hear the pain in her voice. And if she wouldn’t take his money, he had another solution. “Why don’t you come to New York and move in with us?” he offered.

  “I don’t want to impose, J.”

  “What do you mean impose? You’re family, and besides, we have more than enough room in this big old house.”

  She stopped sniffling. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive.”

  “What about Naomi?” she asked, with concern in her voice. Tyler knew that she wasn’t her sister-in-law’s favorite person. Naomi had a problem with Tyler’s sexuality, and had made her opinion known on several occasions. “Don’t you have to run this past your wife first?”

  “Don’t worry about Naomi. She’ll be fine with you moving in. You just worry about packing up your things and getting on the next thing smoking.”

  She began to cry again. “I love you so much, J. Thank you.”

  “What are big brothers for? Now get to packing and I’ll see you soon.”

  They both hung up. He had solved one problem and created another. He knew Naomi would be anything but fine with his sister moving into their home. Naomi was repulsed by his sister’s homosexual lifestyle. But she would just have to get over the shock. After all, Tyler was his one and only sibling and her welfare came before his wife’s prudish paranoia.

  A smile began to spread across Jacob’s face. He knew that once he told Naomi about Tyler’s relocation that her sex drive would plummet. His wife would be totally turned off at the thought of a lesbian living under their roof. Yes, the situation would work to his advantage, giving him a pass on making love to his wife—at least for a while.

 
; 9

  MERI RENICK hadn’t been inside the Black Door in nearly a year. She had been too busy entertaining a stable of young men who satisfied her libido day and night. In her mid-forties, Meri was an extremely wealthy woman. Having been twice married, she was now a widow with a substantial bank account. In addition to her late husband’s estate, she had also made a killing with real estate investments. With no kids to send to an Ivy League institution, Meri used her means for cosmetic procedures, including vaginal enhancement, until once again her twat was as tight as a virgin’s. She also spent a considerable amount of cash on the young studs who kept her clit satisfied. Money well spent, in her opinion. Everyone had a vice, and hers happened to be sex.

  Although Meri hadn’t graced the club with her presence, her red, patent-leather mask hadn’t gone to waste. She had loaned it to her best friend Ariel, who used it to take the edge off. The mask—or better yet, what she did behind the mask—had cost Ariel her marriage, but that’s another story altogether.

  Meri was meeting her friend Beth Lacquer at the club. Beth was a newly minted member, and Meri was giving her an unofficial tour. Beth had received the official tour when she joined.

  “As you can see, this is one of the parlors, which I’m sure you saw during your initial walk-through.” Meri strolled over to the champagne fountain in the middle of the floor. “However, did you happen to taste the delicious liquid flowing out of the spigots?” She reached for two flutes that were resting on a silver tray next to the fountain, filled them, and handed one to her friend.

  “No, I didn’t sample the champagne.” Beth took a sip. “Oh! This is not champagne.” She had totally forgotten that Rhoda had mentioned the vodka fountain in the center of the room.

  “I know. It’s Belvedere. They use vodka for those who need more than champagne to get their courage up,” Meri explained, taking a sip.

  “Courage for what?” Beth asked.

  “To venture upstairs. Didn’t you get the grand tour?” Meri asked.

  “No. I only saw the main level. I had to rush off to dinner that day, so I didn’t get a chance to see the entire club.” Beth took a sip of vodka. “So . . . what’s upstairs?”

  “Behind those curtains”—Meri nodded in the direction of a beautiful pair of plush crimson drapes—“is the entrance to decadence.” She grinned.

  “Hmm, sounds intriguing.” She took another sip, this one a little bigger than the one before.

  “Trust me, daarling, it is. Now drink up. We have some exploring to do.”

  The women polished off their drinks, crossed the room, parted the curtains, and made their way up the narrow staircase.

  “Wow, this area is totally different from downstairs,” Beth said, squinting, trying to adjust her eyes to the deep indigo lighting.

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.” Though Meri hadn’t been to the club in months, she still remembered the layout and the dens of debauchery. “Come on this way,” she said, walking down the long corridor.

  Beth followed without question. Her senses were now aroused, and she wanted to see more. “Wait a minute.” She stopped in front of a two-way mirror, and stared. “Am I seeing what I think I’m seeing? Or is this one of those holograms?”

  “No, daarling, it’s not a hologram.” Meri walked closer to the window and looked. “It’s the real deal.”

  They watched as a woman dressed in a dominatrix outfit—complete with leather bustier, gloves, thigh-high spike-heel boots, and a black leather face mask—whipped a pair of undernourished-looking servers with a riding crop. “Looks like S and M to me, and if I’m not mistaken, they should be downstairs.”

  “What’s downstairs?” Beth asked, stepping closer to the glass, nearly pressing the tip of her mask against the window.

  “The Dungeon is in the basement, and it’s where the whips, chains, and other pain-provoking apparatus are located.”

  “Well, it appears that they brought the whips upstairs tonight.” Beth winced as the woman cracked one of the servers on the ass. “Now, that’s gotta hurt!”

  “I’m sure,” Meri said, turning her head away from the consensual assault. “Come on, I’ve seen enough. I love sex, but I can’t take pain. The S and M scene is not for moi. Let’s find something more enticing.”

  As they continued along the corridor, Meri said, “When Rhoda told me that you were interested in the Black Door, I was surprised. Are you and Douglas having problems in the bedroom?” she asked point-blank.

  “I swear, Meri, you are the most direct person I’ve ever known. My other girlfriends wouldn’t dare ask that question.” Beth had known Meri for years, but it still surprised her how brazen Meri could be.

  “Daarling, I’m not like your other girlfriends. Now stop stalling and answer the question.”

  “No, we’re not having problems in the bedroom.” Unlike Meri, who talked about every sexual exploit that she’d ever had, Beth was more reserved, and kept her answer short, preferring not to elaborate.

  “If you’re not having problems between the sheets, then what are you doing at the Black Door?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, Doug is an excellent lover, but he’s hardly ever around. And I need the ‘Peninsula’ more than two or three times a month,” she said.

  “The Peninsula?”

  “That’s my pet name for the male anatomy.” She chuckled.

  “That’s cute. I like it.” Meri had called a dick many things before, but never a peninsula. “I think I’m going to have to use that one.”

  “It is clever. Anyway, when Rhoda told me about this club, I thought it would be the perfect solution to my drought. And from what I’ve seen thus far, it is.”

  “Speaking of Rhoda, where is she? I thought she was coming with you tonight.”

  “Yes, that was the plan, but believe it or not, she has a date!” It was common knowledge that Rhoda hadn’t been out with a man since her divorce nine months ago.

  “A date with whom?”

  “One of Doug’s coworkers, who recently relocated from New Orleans. He didn’t know anybody in town, so I arranged a blind date.”

  “Aren’t you the little matchmaker? Let’s hope it works out,” she said, without an ounce of confidence that it would. Meri knew from experience that most blind dates turned out to be disasters.

  “Well, if it doesn’t, I’m sure she’ll be back at the Black Door with a quickness.”

  Both women laughed in agreement.

  “What’s so funny?”

  They turned around to the sound of the voice. Standing practically on their heels was a towering figure of a man. He must have been at least six feet seven inches in height. He was tall enough to be a basketball player, but the loincloth covering his genitalia was the uniform of a server, not a point guard.

  Meri stopped laughing and expertly surveyed his body, from the burnt orange mask shielding his eyes, to his hairy chest, to the hefty package protruding from beneath the Tarzan-like cloth. His hair was coiled in long dreads that hung down his back. The bottom half of his face was covered with stubble. There was a wildness about him, as if he’d stepped right out of the Amazon. She reached out and ran her hand up and down his bare chest. “Daarling,” she purred, “there’s nothing funny about your sculpted pecs”—she reached down and boldly lifted up the loincloth—“and beautiful cock.”

  Beth stared in disbelief as Meri uncovered the man’s privates. He didn’t protest. He reared back with a smile of confidence on his face while she inspected his goodies.

  “Like what you see?”

  Meri licked her bottom lip. “I do.” She turned to her friend. “Beth, come closer and take a look.”

  Beth seemed to be frozen. Her feet wouldn’t move. She hadn’t seen another man’s penis since she’d said her wedding vows seven years ago. Though she had come to the Black Door to frolic, something inside was preventing her from indulging. That something was a serious case of guilt. Suddenly Beth was filled with an overwhelming feeling of unfaithfulne
ss.

  Meri stroked the server’s long dong. “Not only does it look good, but it feels marvelous.” She noticed that Beth wasn’t saying or doing anything, just standing there like a statue. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “Uh, uh,” she stammered, “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Go?” Meri seemed alarmed. “We haven’t even been here an hour. Besides, the fun is only beginning,” she said, rubbing the head of the server’s dick.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t stay. I thought that I could cheat on Doug, but all of a sudden, my conscience is getting the best of me. I’ll talk to you later. Have fun.” Beth fled down the hallway as if she were being chased by demons.

  Meri hunched her shoulders. “Oh, well, looks like it’s just the three of us,” she said, making a reference to his cock and putting a firm grip on it at the same time.

  “That works for me. Now tell me what you’re in the mood for,” he wanted to know.

  “Take me to one of the private chambers. Once inside, lay me down and lick my clit until I cum. And then I want you to masturbate until you’re really, really hard, because if there’s one thing I can’t stand, that’s a soft cock. When you’re ready to pop, I want you to ease that big dick inside of me and fuck me until my toes curl. Can you do that?”

  “That’ll be just for starters. I hope you’re not in a hurry, ’cause I’ma fuck you all night,” he said in a southern drawl.

  “Daarling, that sounds absolutely perfect.” Unlike Beth, Meri didn’t have a husband to rush home to, and her boy toy de jour was busy tonight, so she had nothing but time.

  He took hold of her hand, led her to a private room, and did exactly as she had instructed. For the next few hours, they fucked, licked, sucked, and fucked some more. Now that Meri was reacquainted with the Black Door, she promised herself that she would be back to sample another server before the month was over.

  10

  JACOB ARRIVED at the restaurant twenty-five minutes ahead of Mira. They were having lunch at Kaminsky’s, an upscale restaurant in Midtown.

 

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