The V-Spot

by Wendy S. Marcus

  Emma looked up and, over the heads of the voyeurs on the sidewalk below, got a clear view into Room One, identified by a white plaque with black lettering that hung above it. Her breath caught in her throat.

  A young woman with long dark hair and a beautiful figure lay naked on an identical twin of the round, red satin-covered bed in Emma’s room. Her feet flat on the mattress, she had her knees bent and spread wide. An equally attractive young man, at least from the back of him, with short brown hair lay on his stomach, his face buried between the woman’s legs. She rocked her pelvis, arched her back, twisted and turned.

  Emma watched the woman’s face, which she’d cooperatively turned in Emma’s direction, the expression pure ecstasy. The woman’s eyes closed, her mouth opened, she seemed to inhale a deep breath. She bit her lower lip and reached for the man’s head, aggressively forcing him closer.

  The sight left Emma captivated. The woman’s rapture. The man’s commitment to her pleasure.

  Brody pressed in behind her dipping his mouth to her ear. “You like that?” he whispered.

  Entranced by the scene before her, Emma nodded.

  The woman lifted her hips off the bed.

  The man held on, seemingly suctioned in place.

  Emma’s body responded.

  Brody’s deep voice registered. “Would you like me to do that to you?”

  God, yes. She nodded. Wait. “No.” She shook her head. “I mean, no.” Not with Brody.

  “Got you a present.” He pushed a hard plastic object into her hand.

  She lifted it, using the moonlight to see as she ran her hands along the rounded edges, feeling a small pair of binoculars. “You got me binoculars?” she asked, the question so stupid she nearly smacked herself on the forehead. Duh, of course he’d gotten her binoculars, she was holding them in her hands.

  He simply said, “Enjoy,” and turned her chin back toward the huge window.

  Emma lifted them to her eyes, played with the focus and Oh. My. Goodness. It felt as though she’d entered the room, as though she was right there, a part of the action. She could see the man’s tongue, the woman’s moisture on his chin and cheeks, could almost smell the scent of female arousal, the sweat of heat and exertion.

  She skimmed up the woman’s flat abdomen to a pair of nicely rounded breasts. The woman twirled and pinched her own nipples into tight hard buds, massaged and squeezed her breasts, then slid perfectly manicured fingers—in a shade of hot pink Emma adored—down between her legs. This woman took what she needed, boldly sought her pleasure.

  Seeing a naked female body did nothing for Emma. As a nurse she’d seen hundreds of them. But never had she witnessed the innate sensuality of this erotic scene or been privy to such an intimate private moment with a complete stranger. While standing outside. With Brody’s large body so close, touching her.

  Emma shifted her stance, rubbing her thighs together, squeezing off a few Kegels to stimulate her aroused tissues.

  Brody pushed up against her back again. So big. So tall. So tempting. Emma held on to the tree to keep her balance. “I will, you know,” he said, still keeping his voice low. “Do that.” He ran his hands over her too-big hips down the front of her haven’t-seen-the-light-of-day-in-years thighs. “And I’ll enjoy it just as much as you will.”

  Need and want combined in an intense pressure between her legs. No one had ever. Not because they hadn’t offered, but because she’d never felt comfortable enough with a man to let him.

  Brody bunched her dress in his hands, the hem rising above her knees. Higher. Cool air circulated along her heated skin. Higher. His hand settled on her bare thigh. Her body exhaled its delight at the surreptitious touch, out in the open where anyone could see. Her head dropped back to his chest, anticipation building as she wondered how far he’d go, even as she fought to muster up the energy to say, “You’re going to get us kicked out of here.”

  The fabric of her dress fluttered down. A surprising regret settled low in her belly. “I guess we should...um...move on.” To a less arousing room would be helpful.

  Brody reached for her hand. “Stay close.” She did, stepping carefully as he led her along the path to a group of bushes overlooking a brightly lit Room Two.

  A shirtless, muscular man with glorious, flawless, dark black skin sat on a chair beside a small round wooden table. He wore dark gray dress slacks that’d been unzipped and pushed down just enough to allow his huge erection to jut up into the air. He reclined, the picture of relaxed male, one arm resting on the table, his fancy shoes flat on the floor, his legs open wide.

  A buxom blonde, similar in build to Emma, knelt between his feet, naked, with her overabundance of pale, flabby flesh exposed for all to see, lavishing attention on the biggest engorged penis Emma had ever seen. Just to be sure she confirmed her assumption by double-checking through her binoculars. Yup. Definitely the biggest.

  It glistened as the woman’s mouth lifted up, almost off the tip, before plunging back down, taking the entire length into her mouth and throat. Emma swallowed, imagining...

  Brody moved in close behind her, his hands steadying her hips as he thrust his groin forward. It felt so good she didn’t mind being pushed into the bush. “I’ve dreamed of you doing that to me,” he said, his breath hot and moist next to her ear. “Your mouth would be so hot, so wet. You’d suck me hard, take me deep.”

  “That’s how you like it?” she asked, thinking she could certainly do that for him without having to disrobe, knowing she could satisfy him without embarrassing herself.

  “Yeah.” He nodded against her hair as he thrust a growing arousal of his own into her backside. “That’s how I like it.”

  Emma lowered her binoculars so she could see everything at once. The man’s head fell back, his expression strained as his hips lifted off the chair. The woman moved faster, cupped his balls. All of a sudden he grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off him, the motion quick, almost violent.

  Emma swallowed a gasp, worried about what would come next.

  But the blonde remained unfazed by the show of strength. A slow smile spread across her glossy lips. She took her time rising up to stand, never taking her eyes off the pair watching her. She looked as if she held all the power as she climbed onto her lover’s lap, straddling him, not at all concerned about the extra pounds she carried on her frame or the possibility she might disrupt circulation to the lower portion of her partner’s body.

  He didn’t look as if he minded her weight at all. In fact he seemed to relish it, kneading the mounds of flesh on her butt as he positioned his date where he wanted her, lifting her large breasts and placing them over his shoulders.

  Brody held her tighter, gently rocking his hips against her. “I want that, too,” he whispered.

  “I’m too heavy.”

  “No, you’re not.” He kissed the side of her neck just below her ear. “You’re soft and warm. Real. And as much as I can handle you, I bet you can handle me.”

  She had her doubts.

  But his hands wiped them away, sliding over her dress, up her belly—which she quickly sucked in—to the underside of her breasts. “I can’t wait to get my mouth on these.” He gave each nipple a gentle pinch.

  It felt so good she almost missed the light tickle of something crawling on her right upper arm. Something crawling on her right upper arm! “Oh my God, what is that?” She twisted away from Brody, trying to brush whatever the heck it was away. It crawled up her shoulder. “Get it off. Get it off.”

  “What’s wrong?” Brody asked.

  “Something’s crawling on me.” Up her neck. Emma shook her head trying to fling the bug off. In case that didn’t work she slapped at herself trying to squish it.

  Brody hovered. “Stand still.” He grabbed her hands then bent in close to look. “It’s too dark. I can’t see
anything.”

  Emma envisioned a spider lost in her hair, burrowing in among her roots, laying its eggs in her scalp. And she took off for the light below as though she had a rabid raccoon in hot pursuit, off the path, through the bushes, down the hill, around a large rock, over a chain lining the paved voyeur sidewalk.

  Thank goodness Brody followed. “Get it off.” She lifted her hair. “Get it off.” She bent over to give him full view of the back of her neck. “Get it off.”

  Brody slid his fingers through her hair. Grabbed for something. Missed. Grabbed again. “Got it.”

  “Thank you.” Emma straightened up just in time to see Brody, squatting by the grass, allowing a big, ugly black spider to escape, into the wild, free to attack another unsuspecting V-Spot visitor. She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill of revulsion. A spider. On her arm.

  Brody reached for Emma.

  She pointed and jumped back. “Don’t even think about touching me with that hand, Brody Bullock.”

  A male voice asked, “Did you say Brody Bullock? As in The Bull? Hey, look. The Bull’s here.”

  Uh-oh. Emma finally took a moment to observe her surroundings. She and Brody stood at the edge of a crowded sidewalk in front of a brightly lit Room Three. And rather than watching the exhibitionists, the majority of the crowd in their immediate vicinity had turned their attention to her and Brody.

  Chapter Five

  Ah crap.

  Some punk guy with baggy pants hanging too low on his narrow hips, an oversize basketball jersey and a ball cap turned around backward on his head came up to Brody, holding up his fist for a bump. “Hey, Bull. How’s it hangin’, man?”

  Brody complied. “It’s goin’ good.” At least it had been. He put his arm around Emma, guiding her away from the growing crowd, head down, hoping to get away quickly and without a fuss.

  No such luck.

  “The Bull!” a male voice called out.

  Shit.

  “Where?” a woman asked loudly.

  A crowd of people surged, surrounding him and Emma.

  “Do the pose!” a female voice called out.

  Another one said, “Damn, look at those arms.”

  “Who’s that with him?” a man yelled. “Dangerous Danielle?”

  As if he’d date that nut-job female wrestler.

  A woman answered, “No, some fat chick,” loud enough to be heard by everyone. “A nobody.”

  Rage burned through him. He leaned his mouth close to her ear and said, “Don’t listen to her.”

  A man called out, “She win a date with you at some charity auction?”

  In response another yelled, “That’s gotta be it. The Bull’s no chubby chaser.”

  People laughed.

  And Brody had enough. Seeing the asshole that’d made the remark about the charity auction within reach, he lunged, grabbed him by his T-shirt and lifted him with one arm until they were nose to nose. “You need me to teach you some manners?”

  Panicked bloodshot eyes met his.

  Emma’s voice and her hand patting his arm penetrated his angry haze. “Brody, please. Put him down.”

  “Break it up,” an authoritative male voice yelled.

  Brody felt Emma being pulled from him. He swung his head around, prepared to do some body-slamming for real, only to see Doug. “I’ve got her,” he said, working to extricate Emma from Brody’s grip. He released her then watched as Doug whisked her away.

  The outdoor lights came on. Five or six burly security guards forced their way into the crowd. Brody dropped the loudmouth. No sooner did his sneakers hit the cement a guard had him by the arm and was dragging him away.

  “You insult my date, you insult me,” Brody bellowed, outraged that Emma had been subject to such vile comments because of him.

  A firm male voice came over a loudspeaker. “Disperse or we’ll close down for the night. No refunds.”

  Amid groans and protests the voyeurs moved around, breaking into small clusters, a heavy security presence among them.

  Brody ripped off his worthless mask. What an idiot he’d been to think he could have a nice date with Emma like some regular guy.

  Doug showed up beside him. “Sorry about that. I had a guy trailing you but that horde got big fast.”

  “It’s not your fault.” No. It was Brody’s fault for not setting limits with his fans from the start, for being a flirty, good-natured, approachable wrestler as opposed to a nasty, antagonistic, threatening one. “Where is she?”

  “The VIP Room with Angie.” Doug started to walk.

  Brody followed. “Please tell me you have chocolate in there.”

  Dough smiled.

  Brody dreaded what he might find. Emma in tears. Emma enraged. Emma planning to leave.

  What he did not expect to find was Emma sitting at a small table with Angie, sipping from a champagne flute, and talking animatedly as if they were old friends. When she saw him Emma smiled and held up what looked like a chocolate-covered strawberry. “The perfect food and sweet Angie let me steal a few from her tray.”

  “Just getting started on prep for the midnight reception for our VIP guests,” Angie said, as if it was no big deal. But it was a very big deal to Brody.

  Emma drank the contents of her glass, set it down and pointed to the berry she held in her fingers, looking at it with reverence. “Rich in essential nutrients like vitamin C, potassium and folic acid. High in fiber. Loaded with antioxidants and flavonoids and other powerful disease fighters.” Her beautiful blue eyes met his. “And that’s just the strawberry. Don’t get me started on the health benefits of dark chocolate.” Returning her attention to her happiness-inducing treat she made a show of opening her mouth wide, slipping that lucky berry between her plump lips...

  Brody had gotten a little sidetracked with a vision of her slipping a lucky part of him between her plump lips. Until she bit down. That jolted him back to reality.

  Emma closed her eyes as she started to chew, total enjoyment evident on her face. And Brody set himself a goal—to see that look again, when he moved deep inside her, when he was the one giving her pleasure.

  But first he had to get her back to their rooms.

  Angie refilled Emma’s glass, placed the champagne bottle on the table and left the room through the front door.

  The woman had another fifty-dollar bill heading her way. Maybe even a hundred.

  Doug approached carrying a white bucket which he lifted so Brody could see the contents. Eight cell phones, three floating on top of the water, five sunk to the bottom. “We confiscated the ones we saw,” he said. “We’ll sit with the owners of the waterproof ones to watch them delete any images taken tonight, but you know as well as I do, that’s no guarantee pictures and/or videos from tonight won’t make their way to the media.”

  Yeah. He knew. “Thanks, man.” Brody held out his hand.

  Dough shook it. “I’ll be outside.” He turned. “Take your time.”

  Finally alone, Brody approached Emma’s table. “You okay?”

  She looked up at him. “Of course,” she said, cheerfully, not looking at all bothered by what’d just happened. “They didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. I am fat. I’ve been fat since I was a kid. There’s no insult anyone could lob at me that I haven’t heard before.”

  Brody knew firsthand how mean kids could be. Adults should know better.

  “And I am a nobody,” she went on. “For sure I’m not the typical woman you’re seen with out in public.” She shrugged. “It’s no wonder people would think I’m a charity date.” She took another sip from her glass.

  Brody pulled out a chair and sat across from her, admiring her strength, not believing she was as unaffected as she’d like him to believe. “When used to describe a per
son, the word fat is a derogatory label flung around by small-minded, rude, ignorant people. And it’s not what I see when I look at you.”

  She didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge he’d spoken, her eyes directed down at her one remaining berry, or maybe at the binoculars resting beside it. So he went ahead and told her. “When I look at you I see a real woman with big, lush curves, beautiful eyes and a genuine smile. A good person.”

  He reached over to gently guide her chin upward so he could look into her eyes. “Maybe to a low-class, jealous groupie you’re a nobody. But to me, your colleagues at the hospital, your patients and their families you’re a very important somebody, a knowledgeable, caring and compassionate nurse, a valuable member of society.”

  A hint of a smile turned up the corners of her mouth, her expression lightened. “Boy oh boy, you are one smooth talker.” She reached for an empty glass on Angie’s cart, filled it and hers with champagne, and handed it to him. Then she leaned forward, set her crossed arms on the table, and asked, “What else you got?”

  Up for her challenge he answered, “You are not a charity date. Far from it. You’re an attractive, intelligent woman who caught my attention. A woman I’ve been wanting to get to know better.”

  “First-date sex would certainly get you better acquainted with certain parts of me,” she teased.

  He took that as a good sign. “Hold it right there.” He sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. “You and Sadie concocted the terms of the date. All I did was agree to them.” He leaned toward her, resting his crossed arms on the table same as she did, then added, “And not because I was feeling charitable.”

  She swallowed but met his gaze. “What were you feeling?”

  So many things. “Hope, that maybe a night of stellar sex would entice you to want to get to know me better, too. Excitement, when I haven’t gotten excited about a date in a very long time.”

  She lifted her glass and swallowed down most of her champagne. “Because it’s at The V-Spot?” Her eyes darted to a spot beyond his left shoulder.