by Cynthia Dane
“’Tis been a big year for romance in the kink scene, that’s for sure.” Even if old, established couples broke up, new ones popped up to take their places.
Two of them came by now, since Ken couldn’t contain himself and invited them over the moment he spotted them.
“Lana,” Ian Mathers, dressed as if he came from a business meeting said in acknowledgment. His recently cut hair was striking in the dim lights of the club, but nowhere near as striking as his arm candy, the filthy rich and beautiful Kathryn Alison. The two of them were a fellow switch couple, although from Lana’s bored understanding, Kathryn did more submitting than her boyfriend. Tonight, however, nobody had a collar or leash on, and Kathryn greeted Elle Hernandez with a big, vibrant smile and a loud voice. Apparently they knew each other well.
Lana was always in the mood to talk to more likeminded women. Elle was great, but adding Kathryn the dominating woman was even better. Too bad Kathryn didn’t think much of Lana, or so the wife of Ken Andrews surmised. Their conversations were often tenuous at best. For all her bravado, Kathryn didn’t care much for Lana’s flirty personality. Or something. Lana wasn’t absolutely sure, nor did she care.
Tonight Kathryn was pleasant company as the men and women segregated themselves to talk Christmas, business plans for the new year, and sex. Not necessarily in that order.
Lana was in the middle of describing the sex swing she and Ken were thinking about installing in their playroom when Ian came over, tapped on his girlfriend’s shoulder, and whispered something into her ear. They exchanged smiles before Kathryn was sucked into an ongoing conversation on the boys’ side about her father’s current plans for a property he purchased in another state.
“So how’s the swinging,” Elle asked, leaning in toward Lana. “And I don’t mean the sex swing. Or maybe I do?”
“Things are the same,” Lana responded. She didn’t feel like bringing up her suspicions. After all, she came to one of her favorite places to relax and think about anything but a cheating husband. Even if she came with that husband. And even if she planned on screwing that husband sometime tonight. Wouldn’t be a night at The Dark Hour without fucking my husband. The only question was whether she would Top or bottom.
“Maybe you should try those two tonight,” Elle teased, motioning to Ian and Kathryn. “They seem fun.”
“Hardly,” Lana muttered into her drink.
“I thought you used to crush on Mathers.”
“I’ve crushed on a lot of men, Elle.”
“I seem to recall you specifically saying that you wanted to suck his cock.”
“I was drunk.”
“The shit you say when you’re drunk is what you’re thinking 24/7 anyway.”
Lana laughed. “All right, you caught me. I used to think that about him.” Honestly, that germ was planted by Ken. Lana garnered that her husband had a man-crush of his own.
“What changed? Him getting a girlfriend couldn’t have deterred you. Even if you and Ken weren’t omnipanquasisexuals you’d still hit on Mathers if you wanted him.”
Cute. Elle didn’t mean any harm by such a comment, but sometimes Lana got tired of defending her lifestyle, even to friends. Yes, she would’ve kept flirting with Ian until he told her to permanently back off. Wouldn’t be the first time a man did that, to either her or Ken. No, the reason Lana lost interest was much more petty.
“I thought he’d be fun until I got a glimpse of his cock.”
“Uh oh.” Elle’s smile was beyond ludicrous, as if they were having a sleepover as teenagers. Where were the pillows and Boyz II Men CDs? “He got a tiny buddy?” Elle was not covert at all when she glanced over at Ian Mathers, eyes pointed straight at his dick. “I mean… can’t see much from here…”
“No,” Lana said, lowering her voice. “It’s sort of the opposite problem.”
“Oh, girl.”
“Shut up. I ain’t saying he’s got a monster cock. I’m saying I took one look at it and crossed my legs.” Sometimes it was hard being a woman like her. Fact of the matter was, the only intimidating thing about Ian’s dick was his abnormally large tip. It wasn’t huge, but big enough to make Lana think twice about going through all the effort necessary to seduce him – and, by extension, his girlfriend.
“Life is so hard sometimes.” Elle sighed. “I can’t say I ever thought about him. Not really my type, if you know what I mean. I like my men more… pliable.” After a hearty laugh, she continued, “You going to take your handsome husband to task for something tonight? I wouldn’t mind watching some hot Domme and male sub action. Knowing this place…” She looked around the room, including the empty performance stage. “It’ll be a Dom fest. It always is when the Dommes aren’t scheduled in advance.”
“I could as easily say that to you. Find some stud and jerk him off for us.”
“Not in the mood. I’d rather watch a fun couple like you guys.”
Lana shook her head. “Don’t think we’ll be doing that tonight. Sorry.”
“Oh, well. A woman can always try.”
Normally Lana’s exhibitionism would certainly drive her to asking her husband to perform together on stage. They had done it before, countless times by this point. Most of the people in this room had seen his cock, her pussy, and what they looked like when they met for a bit of a lay. I don’t give a shit. Nobody in this place has any room to judge. She had seen a fair number of these cocks and cunts herself. Haven’t seen Kathryn’s. Bet she shaves. No. Waxed.
Lana remembered she was due for a spa day. It had been a while since she went for a body wax. Maybe that could be a Christmas surprise for Ken.
I bet that Chloe goes all natural. Ken claimed to have no preference, but for Lana, someone who enjoyed grooming herself from top to bottom, being cast aside for someone on the other end of the spectrum would be like an extra kick to her gut. It would have felt the same if she were the “all natural” one and Chloe was gifted all the waxes she could stand.
“Lana?”
She came back to reality, where her husband joined her on the couch and the others went their separate ways. Elle remained a few more minutes before excusing herself to go cruise for a sub. Once they were alone, Lana sank against her husband, smelling his intense scent and reminding herself that they came here to have fun.
“How’s my Bunny?” He slapped his hand against her knee and drew a circle against her skin. “Have a nice chat with your friend?”
“I could ask you the same thing.”
“It was a good conversation. Always nice to catch up with people. What were you and Elle talking about?”
Lana leaned against the back of the couch and stared at the gray wall behind it. “Ian Mathers’s cock.”
“Ah.”
“I don’t expect you to understand.”
“Now, now, Bunny, I like to consider myself a fair expert on all things dick and cock. So I definitely understand.”
She glanced at him. “Not from my tight pussy’s perspective.”
“So we don’t flirt with him anymore. We find someone else to take for a spin.” Ken snorted. “He’s got a serious girlfriend now anyway. They’re so smitten with each other, it’s almost adorable. Hopefully they won’t be like us old harpies one day.”
It took a few seconds for that to sink into Lana’s ear. “What do you mean, old?”
“Good. She’s listening to her husband for once.”
Lana clasped her hands around his arm and nearly nibbled on the bottom of his ear. “Maybe it’s you who should be listening to me.”
“Shh.” He patted her knee. “There’s a show starting. We should watch.”
His gentle voice was the only thing in the world that could placate her personality. Whether she was wound up in anger or lust, sometimes she needed to come down from her adrenaline-pumping high and remember her place in the world. Right now, that place was being a responsible and socially acceptable woman in a sex club.
“This should be good,” Ken said, asking for a refill of his drink from a server passing by. “Care to wager about what they do?”
“Always, Kenny.” Lana bit her lip in anticipation. “Loser has to give the other a hand-job right here.”
“Done. What do you wager?”
“I say he fucks her within five minutes. They look eager.”
“Five minutes? That quick? You’re on. I give it at least five.” Ken held up his wrist and waited for the second hand to hit twelve. “Starting now.”
That didn’t give Lana much leeway. The Dom and his sub were barely set up when Ken started his countdown, but there was one thing on Lana’s side.
Both of them were young – not only the girl. Most female subs tended to gravitate toward older, experienced Doms. Certainly, the young man may have had plenty of experience in the kink scene so far. I doubt it. That meant Mr. College Dom would constantly be on the verge of losing it. That it? The very thing that made the more experienced Doms in the room attractive.
Discipline.
Men like Ken – hell, like any Dom over thirty in that room – knew how to hold back their need to take their delicate subs. Their discipline was one way to feel immense pleasure. So, all Lana had to count on was this young lad’s dick getting so hard he couldn’t help but reward even the brattiest sub with it.
Ken sensed this as well the moment the show started. He sighed deeply, resigned to probably losing. Although the watch was ticking.
“He’s good looking,” he said wistfully, hand stroking his wife’s knee. “Wouldn’t mind seeing you take him on.”
That was Ken’s casual way of suggesting Lana have her turn with a third wheel. A male one. “We’ll see how I feel about that soon enough.” To say they used these more explicit shows as a way to shop for potential playmates was an understatement. Both Lana and Ken wanted to see how other people screwed – or, in Lana’s case, see the goods they were packing.
Sure enough, the guy’s dick was out in fewer than three minutes. Erect. Looks painful. Lana didn’t have a dick, but she could guess. Just like she could guess Ken crossing his legs had nothing to do with phantom pains. The man was 100% hiding his own erection.
“If this guy can hold on two more minutes, Kenny, I’ll take care of that thing for you.”
“I know you will, Bunny.”
He kissed her hand as the Dom spanked his sub, pulled down her bust, and fondled her modest breasts. Wouldn’t mind getting a taste of that right now. Whether from Ken or another man while her husband watched… that didn’t matter.
“How long do you think they’ve been together?” Lana asked. She couldn’t believe it being more than a few months. These two were too young to have a longstanding Dom/sub relationship. Not like her and Ken. “I would guess three months, tops.”
“Five weeks.”
“That’s specific.”
“Long enough for that guy to get acquainted with her body, but short enough for him to still need to learn. Took me six weeks before I was able to keep from prematurely ejaculating around you, Bunny.”
“Excuse me? I recall you doing that an all of two times.”
“You didn’t know about the others because I came before sex was even on the table.”
“Ugh, Ken.”
“Yes, Wife?”
She shook her head. “He better bang her soon. I want you to finger me.”
His hand went from her knee to her inner thigh beneath her skirt. “I could do that anyway.”
“The bet, though.”
The bet Lana was about to win, for the Dom’s sub followed a very specific order: don’t cry out through three spanks. She persevered, and the man decided to reward her with nothing short of his cock thrusting between her legs.
Ken, having lost their loose bet, slipped his hand between his wife’s thighs and stroked the length of her silk underwear.
“Oh, Kenny,” Lana mumbled, leaning back in the couch so her husband could nibble on her lips. “You always knew how to please a girl.”
His thumb pushed aside the thin material of her underwear and pressed into her wet folds. Lana began to slightly writhe, hand gripping his shoulder and legs opening in her skirt. “
“You’re just easy, Bunny.”
“Easy, huh?” Her breath stopped in her chest as the sub on stage shrieked in ecstasy, her Dom driving into her, hard, the audience sitting close enough to get a great view of the stage cheering their support. “You have to watch out using words like those. You might sully a woman’s reputation.”
“Oh, Lana…” One finger managed to push into her. “I made an honest woman out of you. Now you have to take it.”
As she gasped, Lana caught sight of a woman sitting by herself nearby, watching them. What a pretty young woman. Petite. Curvy. Wearing a cream-colored piece of lingerie with matching collar. The girl was not attached to anyone, let alone a Dom, but she was probably looking for one.
You want some of this, girl? Lana opened her legs wider, exposing her husband’s finger sliding in and out of her. You can’t have any. This man is all mine right now, and he’s going to worship my pussy. Feel free to watch, though.
Tingles shot through her toes as she watched this girl watch her. On stage, the solo sub could easily see some hardcore action, complete with wet skin slapping and eager little moans bouncing out of that girl’s mouth. Yet instead she chose to watch Lana Andrews, an almost-forty woman, spread her legs, show off her goods, and let a man fuck her with one – no, two now – fingers. Lana let a groan roll out of her chest as she pulled one of her nether lips aside with her fingers and fell deep into the trap of making exhibitionist love with her husband.
“Fuck me harder,” she hissed at him, pleased to feel him instantly thrust into her harder, more depraved with every passing second. More than one person watched them. That only fed into Lana’s need to have sex, and she didn’t care with whom.
She had no idea when her exhibitionism took a hold of her. Lana always had a “bad” streak in her when it came to the more taboo sides of sex. I was eighteen when I had sex in public for the first time. And that really meant public! Her then-boyfriend couldn’t keep his hands off her at a house party. When he suggested he take her right there in the hallway, Lana hadn’t hesitated in saying yes. Next thing she knew, she was claimed in front of a whole fraternity – and all that mattered was the thrill it gave her.
People loved sex. They loved watching others have sex. They loved thinking about sex, having sex, anticipating sex. There was a reason voyeurism was so prevalent to certain degrees. Lana was a betting woman, and she was willing to bet that many of those same voyeurs harbored fantasies of exhibitionism as well. Yet what most people didn’t know was that you didn’t have to be hot to get some in public. All you had to be was ready and eager. The happy watchers came on their own.
That’s why God blessed the good green Earth with clubs like The Dark Hour. So kinky fetishists like Lana Andrews could get fingered by her husband in front of their corner of the room.
The fact that some people would rather watch her than the show on stage made her feel even hotter. She thrust her hips against her husband’s fingers, taking them into her and feeling everything become even tighter. Ken groaned in her ear. Lana hooked her hand around the top of his tie and pulled, bringing him closer so he could kiss her throat.
You all wish that this man were your husband. See how he works me? The perk to having one of the tightest cunts around was that anyone watching would think Ken’s two modest fingers were the ticket to paradise. The way Lana clenched around them felt heavenly, as if her pussy had craved nothing more than these two specific fingers sent straight from the angels above.
Of course, it took more than a couple of digits to make her come so hard that her G-spot quivered in delig
ht. It took a man who knew her body so intimately that he knew exactly how to stroke her, at what angle, and what to do with his mouth and words while he fucked his wife into another plane of existence. And, of course, any man who was going to give a woman a G-spot orgasm of her life did well to remember that it existed in the first place. And Ken never forgot. It helped that, for all of Lana’s biological hang-ups downstairs, she was blessed with an easy to reach G-spot.
“That’s it, baby,” Ken growled into her ear. His fingertips took her, over and over, filling her, reaching deep within her, and stroking the most intimate parts of her body that she had ever shared with anyone. “Come for me right here.”
Lana squeezed his tie and closed her eyes. She could feel the eyes of others on her, fueling her desire to perform for them. Bucking hips, rolling thighs, curling feet, and a mouth that wouldn’t close because she was too busy thinking about coming to think of how she looked.
Fuck!
Sometimes, orgasm turned a woman like Lana Andrews into a wild, uncaged creature who couldn’t be controlled by the best handler in the universe. This happened that night, when her husband drew a hard, unforgettable orgasm out of her. It zipped, no, tore through her, leaving no mercy in its wake as it tightened her abdomen and pussy both. “Ken!” she cried, nearly strangling him with his tie. “Ken!”
She felt more eyes on her. People who were summoned by her pealing voice and her plea for him to fuck her until she couldn’t take it anymore. The show was long over on stage – the Dom came hauled his sub off the stage, so people needed someone to watch.
And why not watch me, the biggest star in this room? Lana reveled in that as she flung her head back on the couch and bucked her hips against her husband’s fingers, each one three knuckles deep.
“My beautiful wife,” Ken purred, Lana coming down from her ecstatic high. “Everyone else thinks you’re beautiful too.”
Damn, he always knew exactly what to say.
“Now give me these back, Bunny.” Ken shook his fingers inside her, showing her how tight it was around them. “I need them, and you’re about to snap them off.”