by Selena Kitt
If only there was some variety in the selection!
Instead, Joe only let her fuck losers. Or at least, guys that Joe knew were no threat or rival to him, inside or outside the bedroom. Like this guy, Ted, who was so overweight his penis was almost hidden under his belly and often barely got erect. Kelly usually finished him orally as quickly as she could, just to be done with it. It never took long. After that she usually found herself watching her husband fuck another woman, rather than the reverse.
Still, outside of these rare outlets, Joe kept her on a very tight leash, including financially. She stayed home all day, doing all the housework in their crappy Manhattan apartment and taking care of the kids, while her husband gallivanted around strip clubs making "business" deals. In return, she got a meager allowance—and these wife-swap dates.
At this point, she’d resigned herself to getting what few thrills she could. She told herself to try to make the best of it.
Ted was still smiling at her and playing footsie under the table. She did her best to smile back and said, “Why don’t I get us some drinks?”
“Good call,” her husband said, still staring across the table into Melinda’s eyes. “Bring us all a round, babe.”
“Sure, babe,” Kelly said flatly.
She left the booth and crossed the room, weaving through the bodies on the dance floor. Sauntering up to the bar in her high heels, she set her little off-brand purse on the bar and looked up at the burly bartender.
“What do you want?” he asked.
After a moment’s thought, she shook her head, exasperated, and said, “Just give me something hard.”
The bartender smirked and turned to the liquor bottles.
Someone laughed gently, and she turned her head. A young black man sat beside Kelly at the bar, swirling champagne in a small, ornate goblet. He looked up to meet her eyes with a soft smile that immediately disarmed her.
“Sorry,” she said, smiling back as her face flushed and she realized what she’d said. It was just like her to embarrass herself in front of a stranger—and a handsome one, at that.
“Has it been a while?” the guy asked.
“Huh?”
“Since you had something hard?”
He said it just casually enough that she found herself laughing instead of annoyed. “Excuse me?” she said.
He turned fully to face her, shaking his head, and she saw how young he really was. His dark face was sharply angled, the stubble across his jaw neatly maintained at the same height as his hair. His eyes were keen and dark. He had to be in his late twenties, early thirties, much younger than Melinda; yet he wore a suit that looked like it cost more than Joe made in a whole year. The tailored charcoal suit fit him like he was born in it. He looked like a movie star.
“Sorry,” he said. “My idea of a joke. Do you like champagne? I don’t know if it’s hard enough for you, but…” He turned to the bartender, who immediately met his eyes with a nod. “Two more of these.”
Kelly stood there dumbfounded a moment. Then she shifted her weight with an impatient smile. “I didn’t ask you to buy me a drink.”
He shrugged. “Don’t worry about it. It’s nothing.”
Kelly rolled her eyes. “Oh, I forgot. You’re all billionaires here.”
The man smirked, sipping his champagne. “Some of us are.” He shrugged. “I couldn’t help but notice you seem kind of down. Your friends aren’t entertaining you?”
Frowning, Kelly said, “What, have you been watching me?”
“Like I said, I couldn’t help but notice.”
Kelly considered him for another moment, then looked away. “They’re my husband’s friends, not mine,” she said softly. “And none of them have entertained me for some time. Including my husband.”
Kelly rolled her eyes in the young man’s direction to see if he caught her meaning. He was still smiling, looking her over with surprising boldness. Kelly felt her heart rate quicken as his eyes casually roved her body, as if he owned her already.
Behind him, the bartender leaned over to pour a fancy-looking white bottle, inlaid with gold. “Two glasses of Armand de Brignac Brut Gold, our finest champagne. Enjoy.”
Kelly’s eyes widened as she realized this was the expensive champagne her husband had made fun of earlier—the one that was a hundred dollars a glass. Slowly, she looked back at the black guy in the suit. He sipped his champagne and met her eyes, still smiling.
“Go ahead, try it,” he said.
She sipped. The bubbles nipped her nose. The taste of the champagne was full and creamy, with a smooth, rich finish. Kelly’s eyes widened. “Wow,” she whispered.
He nodded. “I like to enjoy the finer things in life.” His soft, brown eyes crawled over her again, head to toe, in an almost clinical way—like a doctor assessing her fitness. She felt her face reddening further. “You don’t seem like the other girls around here,” he observed at last.
Kelly forced a smile. “Probably because I’m not a girl, I’m an old woman.” She was starting to feel a little nervous: a curious little flutter in her tummy that she hadn’t felt in ages. She thought it was excitement, but it could have been fear. What did a young guy like this want with the likes of her?
Yet his eyes stayed focused on her keenly, and she was sure he was flirting with her. How else was she supposed to take a hundred dollar drink?
“Old enough to be your mother,” Kelly added, almost desperately. “And I’m here with my husband.”
“Easy,” he said, raising his hands. “It’s just a drink.”
“A hundred dollar drink,” Kelly said, getting angry now. “What, am I supposed to owe you?”
He looked back at her, utterly unfazed. “A hundred dollars is nothing. I won’t lie. I’d enjoy the pleasure of your company—but you don’t owe me anything.”
She hesitated, not sure what to make of this guy. Finally she tilted her head back and chugged the rest of the champagne, letting it burn a path down her throat to her fluttering belly. “There. Happy? Thanks for the drink.”
She wanted to turn away, but for some reason her legs wouldn’t cooperate. She simply stood there beside him, waiting for some unknown cue. The man only sipped his champagne and studied her, his eyes trailing down her ample cleavage, past her trim waist and buxom ass.
She felt the heat in her core moving downward, too.
“You’re welcome,” he said finally. “Hope it cheered you up. Women like you deserve to smile.”
Despite herself, she started to do just that, smiling, as if at his command. “Women like me?” she repeated.
“I believe they’d call you a MILF,” he said. “A mom I’d like to fuck.”
She blinked at him in astonishment. Then, just as abruptly, he stood up from the barstool, leaving his empty glass on the counter, along with a wad of bills that made Kelly’s eyes pop. Then he turned to her, handing her a small laminated card. She took it tentatively.
It read VIP.
“We’ve got a backroom,” he said casually. “You see that bouncer over there?” He pointed to a big man standing in front of a plain door at the back of the club, near the restrooms. “You show him this card and he’ll let you in. I’d like to see you there. You can have a few more drinks and get to know the real billionaires of the Billionaires Club. If,” he added, “you still want something hard.”
He turned away, cutting a dashing figure in his suit as he disappeared into the crowd.
Kelly stood there holding the VIP pass. Her throat felt very dry, and it was an effort to swallow. All the moisture, it seemed, had gone between her legs.
The guy had excited her, there was no doubt about that. A cautious excitement, to be sure, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this turned on.
She wondered what her husband would say about a guy like that wanting to fuck her, not one of his fat loser friends. Even better—what would Joe say if a guy like that actually fucked her? The thought turned her on even more.
<
br /> And why should Joe be in charge of everything, anyway? He liked it when she fucked other guys, didn’t he?
Would she really be doing anything wrong?
Screw it!
She left her champagne glass on the bar and shouldered her purse. Then, moving with purpose, she turned away from the bar, heading toward the heavyset bouncer and the backroom, where the handsome young man awaited her.
Yet she’d barely gone a few feet before a shadow moved out of the crowd, obstructing her way. The neon lights of the club flashed across his over-sized spectacles.
“Kelly?” said Ted, smiling. “Where you going? I thought you were getting us drinks.”
Kelly blinked, surprised. Her stomach fluttered nervously. She felt like a schoolgirl caught breaking the rules; it was a feeling that Kelly, a mother of two, hadn’t felt in so long she’d almost forgotten it. Now the feeling only made her more resolute.
She was being naughty tonight, and damn it, she was going to get away with it!
“Just going to the bathroom,” she told Ted, putting a light touch to his round, hunched shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”
But Ted didn’t move aside. Instead he moved closer, putting his arm around her. His hairy forearm bulged out of his too-tight suit jacket.
“Good,” he whispered. “We can go to the bathroom together.”
She tried to push away gently. “Oh, I don’t know…”
“Come on. Come to the men’s room with me.” Ted leaned in toward her neck to whisper before putting a slobbery kiss on her slender neck. She could smell the alcohol on his breath, enough to make her recoil. “Once I get you in a stall, I’ll fuck your brains out.”
“No, Ted!” This time she pushed him away more forcefully, looking around for help. The burly bouncer was across the room, his eyes hidden by sunglasses. If only she could get to him…
Ted’s grip on Kelly’s arm tightened. “Come on,” he said, trying to sound congenial. “I gotta watch your husband drooling all over my wife and you’re not even paying attention to me! We have an arrangement, okay? I don’t want to wait till later…”
Kelly’s eyes found her husband and Melinda, sitting at their booth at the back of the room. Melinda and Joe were leaning across the table to make out, Joe running his hands through Melinda’s thick, blonde locks. Kelly frowned.
“I don’t think they want to wait until later, either,” she said, pointing.
Ted looked over, releasing his grip on Kelly in a momentary distraction—and when he turned back, she was gone.
Kelly slipped off into the crowd of dancers, hurrying toward the back of the club before Ted saw which way she’d gone. When she reached the edge of the room, she looked back. Ted was standing at the booth, talking angrily to Joe. Then Joe stood up, joining Ted in scanning the crowded nightclub—searching for her.
Breathing hard, she hurried up to the bouncer in front of the door at the back. He was an oversized black man in a tight black t-shirt, his eyes hidden behind black sunglasses. He looked down at Kelly slowly.
Timidly, Kelly raised the VIP card that the handsome young guy in the suit had given her. The bouncer unfolded his thick, muscular arms to touch the card, tilting it to inspect its authenticity.
Then, with a curt nod, he stepped aside, turning to open the door and gesturing her through. She noticed a small smile at the corner of his mouth as she hurried past him.
Then he closed the door behind her, and the sound of the club fell silent.
Suddenly she was in a different world, like Alice through the looking-glass. Behind the soundproof door, the unrelenting noise of the club muted to a faint, rhythmic thud, almost matching her own heartbeat.
She found herself in an ornate hallway, with gold-inlaid crown molding and lamp fixtures of platinum and crystal. Hand-carved chairs and decorative tables lined the hall. From up ahead, she could hear the dull murmur of voices. Slowly, breathing hard, she walked toward it. Her high heels clicked on the granite floor, echoing through the vaulted corridor.
The hallway ended in a lushly appointed, high-ceilinged chamber. Crystal fixtures on the mirrored, angular walls lit the room in warm, low light. Men in tuxedos and suits of crushed velvet and lace sat around on plush sofas and cushions, sipping wine, smoking cigars. At the back of the room, two young girls danced sinuously on poles, wearing only G-string bikinis and nipple tassels, leaving nothing to the imagination.
Kelly blushed, certain she’d found her way to the wrong place. This looked more like a wealthy banker’s bachelor party than a private lounge at a nightclub. She took a step back, ready to turn and flee to her husband and Ted.
Then one of the men at the back of the room stood up, adjusting his silk tie, and as he approached Kelly with a smile, she saw it was the young man she’d met at the bar.
“You made it,” he said, grinning. His teeth were very straight and white. “Glad you could join us.”
“I… actually, my husband is looking for me…”
Before she could protest further, the young man reached for her hand, taking it lightly. His touch felt very warm, firm but gentle. She let him lead her to the center of the room, putting her on display before the other men. Like the black guy, they all seemed young, handsome, well-dressed—and totally immodest in their gazes. She felt their eyes crawling up and down her curvy body as she stood before them in her skimpy black dress. It was dark and disorienting in the mirrored backroom and Kelly wasn’t sure how many there were—but there had to be at least eight or nine guys, all their eyes on her.
“Wow,” someone said. “She’s much cuter in person.”
Kelly frowned through her blush. What was that supposed to mean?
The black guy’s hand slid down her shoulder to the small of her back, and he waved at an ornate chair. “Please, have a seat.”
She sat uncertainly, her legs quivering. “What do you mean, cuter in person?” she said.
The black guy touched a button on the coffee table in front of her, and, to her surprise, a wooden panel slid back in the table’s surface, and a bright LCD monitor rose with a quiet whir, tilting up to face Kelly on the chair. She blinked at the hidden TV screen, surprised.
The monochrome screen was split into several panels, each showing different angles of the nightclub out front. Surveillance footage, she realized, from a closed circuit camera system. The scenes were changing every few seconds.
When the scenes changed again, Kelly gasped.
One of the panels was showing the door to this backroom. Her husband Joe and Ted were both there, shouting at the bouncer, who stood impassively by the door, his arms crossed, shaking his head.
“Don’t worry,” said the black guy in the suit, standing over Kelly. “The bouncer won’t give you up. Not unless we say so. He’ll make an excuse for you, say you’re in the bathroom. We can buy as much time as we need.” He chuckled. “We can buy pretty much anything. Would you like another drink?”
Kelly could only sit there, dumbfounded, while the young man poured another glass from a thousand-dollar bottle of champagne. As he handed it to her, she looked at it suspiciously, then around the room at the young, smiling men.
“Really, now. What will I owe you guys for this?”
The black guy waved a hand, sitting on a loveseat adjacent to her chair. “Please. It’s on our tab. We own the place, after all. Between the lot of us, we own most of the world, actually.”
Some of the other guys joined him in polite laughter. Kelly frowned at the black guy.
“Just who the hell are you, anyway?”
He leaned over, holding out his big hand with a smile. “I’m Damon,” he said. “Pleased to meet you.”
Swallowing, Kelly took his hand, shaking it. “Kelly.”
“As for the rest of them.” Damon leaned back in his seat, nodding to encompass the room. “They’re like me. We put the billionaires in the Billionaires Club. Wall Street power brokers. Silicon Valley tech entrepreneurs. Heirs of vast fortunes. The movers
and shakers of the world. This is our club. We come here to blow off steam.”
He smiled at her.
“And we’d like to make you an offer.”
Finally, they were getting down to business. Kelly wasn’t born yesterday. She knew they wanted something from her.
She wanted something, too.