Her so-called friend, Lady Number Sixty-three, was laid out on the lobby table illuminated by the overhead chandelier. Her white dress creased as she wrapped her legs around the hips of a midfifties gentleman. Though gentle was hardly the word to describe the rough pounding of his body into hers. The lady suddenly threw back her head, her listing hairdo hanging off the other side of the table, and wailed through her orgasm. Watching from the bottom step of the wide staircase, Virginia knew the man came, almost on the heels of the woman’s climax, by his series of grunts and the jerk of his hips.
Virginia’s nipples peaked through the holes in her bra, hard and aching. She was as wet as she’d been in her private room.
Watching was beyond titillating. It was a force in itself, beating at her, ratcheting up her need. Her hand dropped to the front of her dress. She caressed herself through the fabric. The desire to lie down on the stairs and spread herself for a man, any man, was almost irresistible.
No, not any man. Not tonight. She turned, searching, wanting, needing unbearably, but Brett was nowhere in sight.
Sixty-three’s gentleman pulled out of her, the withdrawal of his penis audible, amplified by the tall ceiling. He removed a condom, tossed it in a conveniently available receptacle, then tucked his cock back in his tuxedo pants. After which, he helped his partner off the table, straightening her ball gown politely.
Then they exchanged cards.
It was the most bizarre thing Virginia had ever seen.
Lady Sixty-three turned, her face glowing with satisfaction, her eyelids heavy, sultry. Then she saw Virginia.
“Oh my dear, how many have you had?” Her gray-haired yet extremely distinguished gentleman kissed her ear. She waggled her fingers at him, and he headed for the stairs in hot pursuit of another card, eyeing Virginia as he went. She turned away.
If Brett’s instructions had told her to get a card herself, she probably would have done it. She was in such a mood, such a need. But that wasn’t part of his plan.
She answered her newfound friend. “I’m afraid that wasn’t my goal for the night.”
What was her goal? To feel sexy, hot, and wanted. Brett had given her that. But she needed more, more, more.
The lady fanned her cards. “I’m up to twenty-four,” she announced proudly as if she were collecting donations for stamping out breast cancer.
Twenty-four. It boggled the mind. What was that, a different man every five minutes? How did they all manage to come that many times? “That’s wonderful. Congratulations.”
Virginia wanted a man inside her. Now. If Brett didn’t plan to take her in their own bed, she’d beg. Hot, wet, and needy, she’d promise him anything.
“The night is oh so young.” Then the woman grimaced. “Sadie has twenty-five, that bitch.” She beamed. “So I’m off. I saw the most delicious man before the party started, and I simply must find him. I love tall, dark, and exquisitely handsome.” Her eyes widened at something, or someone, on the stairs above Virginia. The lady fluttered her eyelashes. “Ooh, speak of the devil, there he is.”
Virginia knew without looking. She felt Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome’s gaze on the curve of her ass. Brett. “He’s mine.”
“We’ll see about that, sweetie.” Without the slightest animosity lacing her tone, Virginia’s companion waggled her fingers. “Toodle-oo.”
Virginia felt as hot and desired as the night before her wedding. There was something about Brett’s focused attention that beat against her flesh without her even needing to turn.
She crossed the hall to the front door, her body moving with a delicate sway, a seductive invitation.
He would follow. He couldn’t help himself. Lady Sixty-three didn’t stand a chance. Virginia’s pussy, unconfined by panties, dampened further, coating her thighs. She felt his desire as if he’d already buried his cock deep inside her.
She took the outside stairs down into the garage, her heels clicking on the cement, echoing in the otherwise empty parking lot. All the activity was at the Swingers Ball, and as her friendly informant had said, the night was still oh so young.
She missed his footsteps behind her as she fumbled inside her small purse for her keys, over the beep of her alarm, and the pound of her heart in her ears. His body suddenly covered hers as he reached for her keys and purse, retrieving both from her grasp and tossing them on the roof of her car.
Without a word, he dipped inside her dress and pinched her nipples, first one, then the other, to hardened peaks through the holes in her bra.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he murmured.
She swelled against his palm. He stroked in circles, testing the outer rim of the holes with a finger. She pushed back against his cock, rubbing herself against him.
“Ah, I see you want something, too.” He abandoned her breasts to reach beneath her dress, raising the hem to expose her garter and hot pussy. His heat caressed her bare ass as his hands slid from her waist to her hips, then he divided his attention, stroking down the crease of her butt and coming at her from the front as well. A rough finger slipped into her pussy. His champagne-laden breath ruffled the hairs at her nape.
“Please,” she whispered, begging with just that one word.
He stroked her clit, widening her stance with his leg between hers. “Please what?” He nipped her neck, then laved with his tongue. “Do you want me to fuck you now, Virginia, right here? With your little dress hiked up around your waist?”
Her breath seemed trapped in her throat, and her pulse beat in all her erogenous zones. “Yes.” It was all she could manage.
He pushed her forward against the car. “I want you so badly I’m going to come on your ass if I don’t get inside you right now.”
His words filled her up, consumed her. She couldn’t wait for home. She couldn’t even wait to open the door of her car and drag him inside. “Fuck me, Brett. Please.”
He hitched her hips against his, cock already out, hot, hard, questing. She wriggled against him, rising slightly on her toes to ease his entrance.
She gasped with the first taste of his tip against her open pussy. She pushed, he drove, and his cock slid deep. She closed her eyes against the intense pleasure, the smoothness of his fill, the moisture between them.
His hands clutched her hips, fingers biting into her flesh with his need. “Wider.” He slipped a hand over her behind, spreading her cheeks, pushing deep. “Let me in. All the way.”
She felt as if he’d reached to her womb and beyond.
“Christ, you’ve got the sweetest-feeling pussy.” He groaned, his hands slippery on her backside, his voice laced with a harsh need that set her on fire. “So fucking good. So fucking hot. Better than any fuck I’ve ever known in my life.”
He pounded into her even as his words lifted her to a place she’d never been, more than desire, more than mere sex with the entire Swingers Ball. The rough, crass language said so much more than any sweet romantic compliments ever could. She braced herself against the car and rode him. Her clit throbbed, screaming for attention, his, hers, it didn’t matter. But the sensation on the inside was even better, the clench of her pussy, the slickness, the heat of his cock, the just-right spot he hit with each thrust.
“Heavens, they’re fucking like rabbits.”
Virginia heard the voices and didn’t care.
“Are they allowed to do that down here in the garage?”
“It’s a sex club, Marta, they can do it wherever they want.”
She was aware of Brett’s hands pushing her dress higher, of the slight shift of his body away from her, his cock pulling out almost to the tip, but not quite leaving her, not quite able to give up the heat of her pussy. He slammed home again and again, anchoring her at the waist with her dress held high, revealing their union to greedy eyes.
“Look at the size of his cock. Fuck me like that, Sven.”
“I’m not that big, my sweet, I don’t think I can.”
“It’s not the size, darli
ng, it’s the way he’s fucking her, like he can’t get enough of her.”
“Like she’s the only woman in the world?”
Silence, then the woman’s awed whisper. “Yeah. Like that.”
The only woman in the world. Virginia almost came. It was how Brett made her feel. In this moment, she was the only one who could satisfy him.
“I’m not sure I can duplicate that quite the same way.” Sven’s voice held a note of reverence for Brett’s performance.
“Then let me have him after he’s done with her.”
She’d scratch the witch’s eyes out if she so much as tried to touch Brett. But she couldn’t stand it anymore, the feel of his cock inside her and the couple’s envious eyes on them. She shoved her hand between her legs. His incessant thrusts forced her finger over her clit, back and forth, harder. She panted.
“Do you want to fuck her, Sven?”
“Try it, you die, Sven.”
Brett’s words washed over her, the rasp of his breath, the tremble of his muscles each time he hit home. Then his fingers joined hers on her clitoris. The voices dimmed, there was only his cock, his hand, his voice, telling her how much he loved fucking her. The moan in her throat rose to a cry as the world splintered. She climaxed from the inside out, her ears ringing and her pussy drinking his come as he filled her.
She no longer heard Sven and Marta. She wasn’t sure if they’d left or were doing it on the concrete. She was only truly aware of the feel of Brett’s cock slipping from her, the stroke of his hands as he lowered her dress, and the gentle caress of his lips against her nape.
He held her against him, his arm across her waist as he opened her car door. Her legs wobbled, and her knees threatened to collapse. He lowered her to the seat, tucked her feet into the car, and handed over her keys and purse.
“Can you drive?”
She took a deep breath and nodded. “In a minute.” Long minutes, in which she could regain the senses she’d lost.
His eyes as he bent inside the car were darker than a stormy ocean. He grasped her chin and pulled her close for a sizzling openmouthed kiss, his tongue taking her as deeply as his cock had moments ago. She wanted him all over again.
Then he was gone, leaving behind only the spice of their sex and the soft snick of her car door beside her. She gripped the steering wheel as an orgasmic aftershock rippled through her. Eyes closed, she dragged in a breath.
God. Never like that. Never. Not with anyone. No one but Brett. And not even with him before this night.
It felt almost once-in-a-lifetime.
* * * * *
He’d never experienced the like. But he knew he could have it with Virginia over and over again. He could have it.
They could.
Brett followed Virginia home. She hadn’t seemed quite in her own body in the garage, but she’d driven safely, as if the effects of the club wore off once they were out in the night air.
The only woman in the world. That’s exactly what she’d been to him. With a multitude to choose from at the Swingers Ball, she was the only one.
He liked the feeling.
And he’d made her scream this time. He’d taken her out of herself. He’d forced her to succumb to their mutual desire. When she went off in his arms, his cock buried deep inside, he had the best orgasm of his life. Yes, the best. Incomparable.
Was it just her? Or was it Sven and Marta, the Swingers Ball, The Sex Club, all of that combined?
Brett couldn’t say. But hell, he didn’t care. If it took a sex club as a backdrop, then it would be a regular haunt. He would make Virginia scream. Every time.
He allowed her time to park and enter the condo. He sat a moment, the lot’s lamps illuminating the hood of his car but leaving the interior in darkness.
She’d gone off with his whispered threat to Sven. She’d hit her peak with that stamp of ownership, possession, and need. Brett knew he’d found the key to unlocking her passion. Virginia needed witnesses to her power as a woman. He’d give her that as much as she wanted.
Inside, the condo was dark except for a stream of light from the bedroom. Her shoes lay on the carpet in the upstairs hall, her purse, a few feet closer to the bedroom door. He entered to find her sitting at her vanity removing her makeup with a cotton ball.
The scent of his loving rose off her like a sultry perfume.
She threw the cotton in the trash can, then swiveled on her vanity stool. Something shimmered in her eyes, and her lips were plump from small nervous bites. “Brett, I—”
He covered her mouth with his fingers.
“Don’t say anything.” Her stroked her lower lip with the pad of his index finger. “Wait for the next invitation.”
She blinked, her lashes long and full even without the benefit of her mascara. “But—”
“There’s life as Mr. and Mrs. Brett Branoff. And then there’s a whole different life at The Sex Club.”
“You mean—”
He shook his head. “When the time comes, just do what the note tells you to do, Virginia.”
He intended to see just how far he could get her to go and just how good he could make it for her.
* * * * *
Beside her, Brett breathed softly, rhythmically.
Virginia couldn’t fall asleep. Her body hummed, erotic images played across her mind, and her flesh buzzed with the electricity of the club.
Stacy was so right. There was so much more to her husband than she’d ever thought possible. He’d conceived of a double life for the two of them. A place to play out their fantasies. A separate life that existed only at The Sex Club was like having a secret lover.
She’d follow the instructions in the next invitation to the letter. In fact, she wouldn’t be able to resist.
And she wouldn’t think about how she was starting to feel far too much emotion in a marriage that was supposed to be comfortable, convenient, and controlled.
Chapter Five
“Is the steak good?” Virginia grimaced at her own polite conversation. It had been three weeks since their visit to the club, and she was starting to think she’d imagined the man Brett had been out in the parking garage.
I want you so badly I’m going to come on your ass if I don’t get inside you right now.
Despite the things he’d said then, maybe it hadn’t been as exciting for him as she’d made it out to be, because at home, their lovemaking was as predictable as usual.
“It’s perfect,” Brett said, spearing another piece of filet mignon. He smiled. “You’re an excellent cook.”
He complimented her, asked about her day, laughed with her over an amusing anecdote. They watched TV together, a movie, a PBS presentation, or sometimes a sitcom. At least when they weren’t attending one of his frequent business engagements.
But was he ever going to take her to the club again? She couldn’t bring it up. Part of the allure was having him do the asking. Yet the club obviously did something for them that they couldn’t achieve at home. In their own bed, Brett just wasn’t wild for her the way he’d been that night. She had to admit that lack of ardor made her a little inhibited, too.
You do realize you’re asking for more than what you originally bargained for.
So what? She was only asking for it at the club. What was wrong with that?
“How was your day?” she asked, shutting out the sound of her annoying internal argument.
“The usual. I vanquished a banker, screwed a supplier, and secured an exorbitant contract the customer overpaid for.”
“You’re such a liar, Brett.”
He was an honest businessman, a fair employer, and a shrewd negotiator who made sure both parties to an agreement came out on top. With Brett Branoff, you got the highest quality and the best deal. Virginia admired his ethics.
But dammit, she wanted his next wicked surprise.
His eyes crinkled at the corners. “Really, my day was fine. Thanks for asking. Garrett’s coming into town next week. Do you have tim
e to arrange another party?”
Oh yes, she had time for another party, a Sex Club party. She’d have him on his knees...except he wasn’t talking about that kind of party. “Yes. Fine. No problem.”
In the last three weeks, they’d experienced a grueling social schedule. When would it slow down? Brett’s business life included regular socializing, but he also wanted to introduce his new wife to his associates, which meant more engagements than usual. Virginia loved her day job, but she wondered how she’d keep up if the pace continued. Thank goodness for the few nights they did spend at home in front of the TV. Though one trip to The Sex Club would definitely have gone a long way in recharging her batteries.
She was starting to hear sexual innuendo in every exchange they had. Brett usually called her at work during the day. His voice over the phone set her skin alight. Husky, intimate, even when all he asked was if she wanted to go out to eat. Everything he said, no matter how innocent, made her think of sex.
What’s for dinner, Virginia? She’d have visions of laying herself out on the dining room table for him to feast upon, his tongue delving deep into her pussy, teasing her clitoris. What do you want to watch tonight? Brett, stroking that gorgeous cock of his, fingering her to multiple orgasms, then coming hard on her clit, his heat sending her over the edge again...
God. She was driving herself mad with her fantasies.
“Is everything all right, Virginia?”
“What?” She blinked, clearing the images, but her panties were drenched. “Sorry, what did you say?”
His lips rose, growing slowly into a smile. “You’re not paying attention to me. I’m hurt.”
She patted his hand. “What can I do to make it up to you?” Beg me to suck your cock deep into my mouth and swallow every last drop of come. Tell me you’ll go insane if I don’t suck you right this minute.
But he wouldn’t. He’d only displayed that kind of fervor at the club.
He propped his chin in his hand. “I get to choose the show we watch tonight.”
Invitation to Pleasure: Open Invitation, Book 2 Page 5