Black Orchid

by Roxanne Carr

  Each of the couples seated at the tables appeared to be engaged in varying acts of seduction. To her left, a beautiful young man with ebony skin was feeding strawberries and cream to a tousle haired redhead. The woman's eyes were closed, a small frown of concentration etched between her eyebrows as she took another mouthful of the sweet concoction. Maggie watched enviously as the muscles in her throat contracted, imagining she could feel the sensation of the cream slipping down her throat.

  She tore her eyes away and blinked as she realised that, directly opposite her, a couple were copulating frenziedly on the soft carpet under their table.

  'Feeling lonely, Maggie?'

  She jumped as Antony materialised at her side.

  'Oh! Anthony please don't leave me . . .'

  He shook his head sadly.

  'Members only, Maggie. You know the rules.'

  'But . . .'

  He disappeared and she sipped angrily at her martini. She felt strangely disconnected from the scenes taking place around her, as if she were watching through a film of water. She could look, but she could not touch, could not speak to anyone.

  Alexander dropped to his knees in front of Janine who was still undulating softly in time with the music. His large hands met round the tender span of her waist as he burrowed his head under her skirt and pushed it up, over her hips. The skin on the perfect, white globes of Janine's behind looked translucent in the candlelight and Maggie's fingers itched to reach out and run her fingertips over the gently rolling landscape of those twin mounds.

  Janine threw back her head, her soft lips forming a silent ecstatic 'O' as Alexander's long tongue darted into her labia and began to lick back and forth in slow, delicious strokes. Maggie felt the moisture gather between her own thighs and pressed them together tightly.

  She closed her eyes as strong fingers began to knead the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. Whoever it was knew exactly how much pressure to apply to liquefy her limbs, leaving her feeling heavy and relaxed. She dared not turn to see the owner of the magic fingers for fear that he might disappear, just as Judd and Anthony had.

  Opening her eyes, she saw that Alexander had laid Janine on her back on the carpet. She was naked now, but for her white lacy stockings and suspender belt and her high-heeled white stilettoes which had been hidden by the thick carpeting. Alexander was playing with the feathery blonde curls between her legs, teasing and tickling, making her moan softly. His other hand cupped her breast, tweaking at the pale pink nipple until it stood proud.

  Maggie was suddenly overcome with the irresistible urge to join them, to enclose that hard, tempting nub with her lips. Shrugging off the massaging fingers, she stood up and began to walk towards them. They couldn't have been more than six or seven paces away, yet she felt as though she was wading through treacle. Her heels caught in the thick pile carpet, dragging her down. As she sank, defeatedly, to her knees, strong hands caught her and pulled her back towards her table.

  She shook her head, struggling in protest, straining towards the centre of the room. Her mouth dropped open in surprise as she realised that Janine and Alexander were no longer there. The other tables were now empty – she was alone in the candlelit room and strong, unseen hands were pressing her, gently, but insistently, onto her back.

  Sinking into the soft, deep carpet with a small whimper of defeat, Maggie made no protest as her clothes were gently stripped from her. Many of the candles were guttering, their gentle light flickering erratically. No matter how hard she tried to penetrate the velvety darkness, she could not see to whom these knowing, roaming hands belonged.

  There were three pairs, that much she knew, two definitely male and the other pair . . . She moaned, partly in protest, mostly in encouragement. Soft, small, feminine hands were fluttering over her thighs, coaxing them apart. Maggie closed her eyes and allowed herself to be opened, her legs pulled slowly apart and her arms held above her head. It was a curiously comfortable imprisonment and she welcomed the soft, wet touch of unmistakably female lips on her breasts. Small teeth nibbled, a hot tongue darted out and circled the engorged nipple.

  Maggie had never been so intimate with another woman and she was surprised by how pleasurable it felt. She murmured, wanting to encourage the unknown woman to continue, but her words emerged as an indistinct moan. A tongue insinuated itself between her lips and coaxed her mouth to open. Definitely male, this pleasure-giver plunged into her hot mouth and sucked at her tongue, drawing it into his own, slightly minty tasting, mouth.

  Her legs, confined at the ankles by strong fingers, quivered with anticipation as the third person burned a trail of kisses up the insides of her thighs, alternating caresses between each one. The lips paused as they reached the apex, placing small, teasing kisses around the edge of her moist pubic hair.

  The mouths were driving her crazy, her entire body, from her head to her captured feet, tingled with her impending orgasm. She knew that the moment someone kissed the swollen button of desire which throbbed violently between her legs, she would burst.

  It had to be soon, she couldn't wait much longer . . . She gasped as the three anonymous mouths were withdrawn simultaneously.

  'No! Oh no!' she cried out in anguish.

  There was the sound of soft laughter, and she heard Antony's voice, close to her ear.

  'Patience, Maggie, just a little longer . . .'

  The sudden, silent coldness of the room told her before she opened her eyes that she was alone. The candles had all burned out and she blinked as a harsh electric light suddenly filled the place. Her clitoris throbbed in vain and she tried to touch herself, to relieve the agonising pressure, but she could not move her arms.

  'No!'

  Maggie sat up in bed, knocking the alarm clock off the bedside table as she flailed her arms. Her duvet was on the floor, her sheets awry, yet she was hot, burning as if with a fever. That dream again! Night after night the same long, tortuously slow seduction, followed by the cruel rejection at the very point when she was about to reach release.

  She sank back on the pillows, wiping the sweaty damp hair out of her eyes. Running her fingers delicately over her unfulfilled clitoris, she shivered in response to the sensations radiating out from it. Slowly, she began to run her middle finger back and forth, her passage made slick by the warm juices which bathed her hand.

  With a frisson of shame she remembered her lust for Janine in the dream and saw again the girl's temptingly sweet body, glowing like silk in the light of the fragrant candles. Felt again the wet, sucking, female lips which had travelled over her body.

  She drew up her knees as she came, squeezing her thighs together as the throbbing went on and on until at last, she flopped, exhausted, onto the pillows. Dragging the duvet up off the floor, she wrapped it around her and fell at once into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  God, she looked a wreck! Maggie peered at herself in the illuminated bathroom mirror the next morning and pulled a face. Damn Antony and his Black Orchid Club! She'd never noticed those tired brown smudges under her eyes or the faint lines showing at the corners of her mouth before. It was the strain of waiting to hear whether or not she was to be admitted to the club, coupled with the unwelcome, enforced chastity of the past six weeks. And the dreams, of course.

  Relentlessly, night after night, they disturbed her sleep, leaving her haunted by image after erotic image all day. She couldn't concentrate on anything for more than a few moments at a time. She was jumpy, irritable. Every time the telephone on her desk rang, her heart almost arrested. And all because bloody Antony was taking his time to let her know if she was in.

  What more did she have to do, she grumbled to herself as she poured boiling water over instant coffee. She'd subjected herself to the medical he insisted upon, kept clear of sex for longer than at any time since she was about sixteen. Hell, she felt like a born again virgin! And she had a suspicion that all this masturbation wasn't good for her soul.

  She pulled herself up short. What was she doin
g? Here she was, a mature, sophisticated woman with a little black book which fairly bulged with addresses, and she was waiting around obediently chaste, like a lovesick teenager. And all at the direction of some domineering male.

  Enough was enough. If Antony didn't contact her today, tonight she was going out. The self-imposed curfew would be over and Antony could stuff his bloody club right up his self-righteous arse.

  Decision made, Maggie showered and dressed for work feeling happier than she had for a long time.

  Janine was waiting for her as she stepped into the office.

  'Maggie – I have a message for you. It's from—'

  'Just a minute,' Maggie noticed Bob's avid gaze from the next desk and pulled the sliding glass privacy door across which separated them. Ever since Janine's enthusiastic kiss weeks ago, Bob had watched her like a hawk, studying Maggie when he thought she wouldn't notice as if trying to work out an intriguing puzzle.

  Maggie had no wish to fuel his suspicions about her any further. He could still see them, of course, and since she didn't trust Janine's mischievous sense of humour, she walked round her desk and sat down, putting it between them.

  'Have a seat,' she invited coolly, hoping her excitement did not show.

  Janine took her time, sinking slowly into the moulded plastic chair and crossing one well-turned leg over the other. Maggie's mouth went dry as she noticed that she was wearing white lace stockings. An image of Janine sprawled in total abandonment beneath Alexander on a thick, red carpet superimposed itself on the self-contained young woman in her neat business suit who sat across from Maggie now.

  She could feel the heat creeping into her cheeks as she remembered the sharp desire she had felt in her dream to possess the firm, soft body and she was appalled to feel the wetness gathering between her thighs at the memory.

  'Is there something wrong?' Janine asked innocently.

  Maggie's head shot up and met Janine's clear, violet eyes. There was a smug, knowing expression in them which made her bristle. She pulled herself together with difficulty and shifted into a more comfortable position in her seat.

  'Of course not.'

  'Only, you look tired.'

  'Do I? I . . . I haven't been sleeping too well lately,' she admitted reluctantly.

  Janine merely smiled and Maggie gained the distinct impression that she knew the cause of her sleepless nights. Her wearing of the white lace stockings today almost had Maggie convinced that Janine knew the content of her dreams, had dreamt them too. Telling herself to stop being so ridiculous, she continued.

  'Anyway, what was it you wanted to tell me?'

  Janine reached into her black leather document wallet and pulled out a purple envelope. Maggie's heart quickened as she took it and saw the large black orchid printed in the bottom left-hand corner.

  'Your tickets,' Janine told her when she didn't immediately open the envelope. 'Tomorrow night is party night.'

  'Does this mean I'm in?'

  Janine grinned as she stood up.

  'Sure does. See you there.'

  Maggie waited until Janine had sashayed out of her office and had turned the corner before ripping open the envelope and pulling out the gilt-edged invitation. Judd was to be her escort for the evening, just as Antony had promised her, and The Body Beautiful would be performing a special, private show.

  Bringing the invitation up to her lips, she placed a kiss of delight on its edge. Then, feeling Bob's curious eyes on her through the glass partition, she slid it into her desk drawer and took out the first file of the day.

  Maggie had dressed to impress in a black chiffon blouse and matching skirt which swirled seductively round her calves. Underneath the semi-transparent blouse, she wore a red, under-wired basque which gathered up her generously proportioned breasts and thrust them forward. She had taken the time to paint her finger and toenails scarlet and her wide mouth wore lipstick to match. She felt like a million dollars as she parked outside the club.

  Antony, gloriously handsome in evening dress, greeted her in Reception.

  'Lovely to see you, darling – welcome to The Black Orchid Club.'

  'At long last,' Maggie muttered acidly, but he only laughed, slinging a casual arm around her shoulders as he led her inside.

  'Everything comes to she who waits,' he murmured against her hair as they walked and Maggie felt a shiver travel down her spine.

  She was still mad at him, though, for making her wait so long and her voice sounded petulant even to her as she said, 'I thought that Judd was my date for the evening?'

  Antony laughed again, with genuine amusement. It seemed that nothing could offend him and Maggie felt her bad temper ebb away in spite of herself. As they went into the lounge, Judd appeared at her side, as if he had been looking out for her.

  'Enjoy yourself,' Antony whispered in her ear before leaving them alone.

  Maggie looked Judd up and down approvingly. Like Antony, he was wearing a black tuxedo and pristine white shirt. His bow-tie and cummerbund were in a matching red and blue Liberty print and his black dress shoes gleamed dully as only the lovingly polished can. His hair was clean and slicked back and he smelled faintly of patchouli oil. There was no trace of the rough, unshaven biker who had abused Tina in the Exhibition Room on Maggie's last visit.

  'Quite the chameleon, aren't we?' she said smiling as he offered her his arm.

  She ordered white wine at the bar, raising an eyebrow as Judd bought mineral water for himself.

  'I like to keep a clear head,' he explained and Maggie laughed.

  'I don't!'

  She liked the way his hazel eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled. Feeling comfortable with him, she leaned against the bar and looked around the room as she sipped her drink.

  The lighting was turned down low and a large space had been cleared in the centre of the floor for dancing. The raised stage at the end had been extended so that it protruded like a catwalk onto the dance floor. There were balloons pinned up in bunches round the edge of the ceiling, matt black and satiny white and the Australian flag had been hung above the stage. The whole look reminded Maggie of a slightly decadent version of the 1950s American high school dances she had seen in films.

  The people, however, certainly did not look as if they belonged at any school. All the men were dressed similarly to Judd. Maggie caught a glimpse of Alexander, striking as ever in his tux, bending his blond head attentively to a hard-faced brunette in the corner. All the women had dressed with a sense of occasion and there was an air of subdued excitement as they drank and danced and waited for the show to begin.

  Maggie wasn't sure what to expect. She'd been to a male striptease act with a group of women from her last job and it had all seemed pretty tame. The Body Beautiful had appeared on various chat shows on British TV to promote their act and as far as she could tell they were simply an antipodean copy of the more famous American Chippendales.

  As the recorded music which had been playing faded away, Judd led Maggie closer to the stage, so that they were standing against one of the side walls. He slipped his arms loosely around her waist from behind so that her back was against him as he leaned against the wall. The lights went down and a hush descended.

  Glancing round her, Maggie saw that all eyes were fixed on the darkened stage. The air was filled with anticipatory tension, conversation had dropped to a low murmur until, finally, that too faded away.

  As if waiting for that moment of absolute silence, the stage was suddenly flooded with light. Music with a hard, driving beat blasted out of the sound system and, in a sudden flurry of movement, six young men catapulted onto the stage and began to dance.

  They were all wearing close fitting jeans and crisp white shirts, open at the neck. All were young, but not too young, in their twenties, Maggie judged. Their movements were fast and furious, full of energy, yet all were in perfect time with the others.

  Maggie ran her eyes over them and smiled cynically. They looked like refugees from an Aus
tralian soap opera, all sunbleached hair and perfect white teeth, shown to advantage by their semi-permanent smiles. The women in the audience, caught up by the pounding music and the spectacle of six strong young bodies dancing with such enviable energy, were going wild, clapping and dancing. The escorts appeared to be keeping a low profile, melting into the background until they were needed to fetch drinks or partner the dancing women.

  Judd nuzzled the back of Maggie's neck with warm lips.

  'Not your scene?'

  'Oh, I don't know. Maybe after a martini or two,' she replied.

  He took the hint and disappeared in the direction of the bar. Maggie noticed Antony standing on the other side of the room. He seemed to be enjoying the act, though his face was impassive as he watched. The first number came to an end and the audience erupted into applause as five men left the stage, leaving the sixth to perform a slow, teasing striptease to the strains of Carly Simon's old standby: 'You're So Vain'.

  As she watched, Maggie saw Alexander approach Antony and bend to whisper something in his ear. The two made a striking pair, standing so close together. Both blond, of similar height and at the peak of physical fitness. She already knew Antony's body well enough to know she liked it, and Alexander knew her body almost as well . . . Maggie felt a jolt of desire, in equal measure for both of them. Antony smiled as Alexander spoke and she had the irresistible urge to go over to join them.

  She took a step in their direction just as Judd arrived back with the drinks. Smiling her thanks, she glanced over again toward Antony and Alexander, just in time to see them disappearing through the door.

  Alexander had Antony's trousers undone before the lift to the private quarters had begun to move.

  'Steady!' Antony laughed, his laughter turning into a groan as his eager shaft sprang free from his boxer shorts and was enclosed by Alexander's cool, knowing hand.

  As the lift stopped on the top floor and the automatic doors opened, Alex led Antony to the white leather sofa by it, without saying a word. Pushing him down gently so that he was sitting with the small of his back pressed against the soft hide cushions, Alex knelt between his outstretched thighs and took him into his mouth.