by Kira Barker
“Don’t get too much chance to dress up these days, so I have to make it count when I do,” she practically cooed, then followed that remark up with a laugh. “I hope you’re enjoying yourselves?”
“We didn’t get much chance yet to look around,” I offered, while Simon left it at a noncommittal shrug. “And I think we lost Jack to the cake buffet.”
That got a chuckle out of her, but her eyes never strayed from Simon.
“Have you decided yet if you’re just here to socialize, or should I keep a spot open for you?”
I didn’t know what she was referring to—although I probably should have caught up to that quickly—but Simon’s face betrayed nothing.
“Haven’t had a chance to broach the subject yet.”
“Well, then I’ll leave you with the perfect opening for that now,” Beth replied, her eyes twinkling. “I’m going to see if I can hunt down Jack. Last I saw him, Raven was stalking him, and after running into Joanna and Erica already, I’m not sure he can take her on and come out on top still.”
That made Simon snort.
“I feel like I’m missing a lot here,” I remarked, only somewhat irked. It wasn’t exactly my fault that I’d only recently become privy to what the guys—particularly Simon—had been up to for years, but sometimes it was still annoying not to know what they were talking about.
“Oh, just an entire, very entertaining decade,” Beth confirmed my guess. “I think Erica still blames Jack that Simon eventually grew bored with her, a fact that should have been obvious from their second scene on. And Raven has been using Jack as her rebound in between more interesting opportunities for years. Joanna is a subject I won’t touch, but I’m sure Simon will be delighted to explain, now, won’t he?”
Simon replied her predatory grin with a bland one and shook his head as Beth retreated with a coy wave at both of us. I stared after her until she was swallowed by the mass of people, before regarding Simon levelly. “Dish.”
His grin turned sardonic then, but he obliged me.
“Judging from the way your eyes narrowed at the name, Erica is already a red flag for you. I think she’s the one Jack loved to rub into my—and by extension your—face when he was on a roll explaining why you shouldn't let me screw with you?”
Yes, that name had rung a bell.
“He mentioned something about her making a scene at a party,” I offered cautiously. I couldn’t very well spend the evening frowning at him whenever he reacted weirdly about Jack, then whip around and hate on every single woman who’d ever come too close to him. Not that Simon wouldn’t accuse me of doing exactly that, but I was at least trying to keep my underlying jealousy in check. “But why should Jack be to blame for that?”
The half-shrug he gave looked surprisingly uncomfortable.
“She was one of my subs who insisted she wanted to have a threesome with both of us,” Simon explained. “And things went moderately well until they didn’t. You know how messy it can get, and inevitably you touch something on someone you might not have intended to.”
“Since when are you that circumspect about sex?” I teased. “You mean like last week when I accidentally managed to half strangle you, you mean?”
“I remain with my point that you were deliberately chopping the hard side of your hand down on my windpipe,” he groused, but then took the sting out of his words with an amused smile. “More like the time you landed flat on your ass when we were done.”
“First times are always the sweetest,” I trilled, grinning. “Got your point. So what happened—did you accidentally French Jack instead of her? Because that has happened, too, you know?”
“Not accidentally,” he shot back, but shook his head, chuckling. “Nothing even that dramatic, and I’d like to remind you that this was way before Jack got that stick out of his ass. I think it was when she was riding him, and I was behind her, and then I overbalanced and in my attempt not to squash her I grabbed his shoulder or something, and might have held on a little longer than strictly necessary, but mostly because the new angle worked better. And he didn’t mind—I’m not even sure he noticed much—and he certainly didn’t take it as anything more than a friendly grab for support, but it got her to flip a switch. Afterward, of course, not when I could just have said ‘sorry’ and we'd moved on. Her point was that he invited it, and it consequently made me lose complete interest in her.”
A woman waddling by in adult diapers and a pacifier stuck in her mouth momentarily distracted me, but not enough to keep me from following his recount.
“Really strange, seeing as you still love to fuck me even though things between you and Jack have definitely ramped up a few notches now,” I remarked.
Simon bit his lip briefly but didn’t follow up my goading. I knew that a greater woman would have refrained from taking that jab, particularly as I was the only one of the three of us currently not swimming, if not quite drowning, in regrets, but still.
“Let’s just say that even if it hadn’t happened, I still would have ended things with her rather sooner than later, and Jack had nothing whatsoever to do with that. But he banged her a time or two weeks later, so what do I know what happened after she chewed me up in front of the better part of my friends?”
That little tidbit I hadn’t known, and I couldn’t help but feel like it was revenge for my jab in a way. Simon hadn’t said anything outright, but I knew that it grated on him that I’d been a lot quicker with forgiving Jack than he’d been.
“Well, I’m sure that Beth will rescue him,” I said. “Do I even want to know about Joanna?”
Simon shrugged.
“Not much to tell about her. Jack picked her up at another party, and she ended up spanking him for ten minutes when she felt he hadn’t treated her with the respect she deserved. Whenever they run into each other, he shuts up and tries to hide, so not sure if that was all that happened. Sometimes I even wonder if he’d like her to do it again.”
That struck me as peculiar, but then I already knew that Jack’s opinion about all things not strictly vanilla was a lot more ambiguous than he liked to claim.
“So…” I tried to get back to the topic I knew Simon was trying to avoid for reasons unfathomable to me.
“So?”
“So what are you planning on doing with me, provided I don’t veto the shit out of it?”
He pursed his lips but didn’t even deny it.
“Quite frankly, I wanted to come here with you to show you what else is out there. And maybe a little more.”
“Define more?” I asked, unable to quell the flutter of excitement in my stomach.
Simon shrugged, the look in his eyes darkening. “I might have packed a few toys that are right now in the other gym bag in the car, should you decide that you didn’t just come here to watch and not eat cake.”
I had to admit that the thought alone scared me as much as it excited me.
“Why so vague about it?” I wanted to know.
“Because I’m still trying to test the waters, but you’re making it incredibly difficult to read you right now,” he confessed, then looked away from me to where he had told me the private rooms were. “We could go see if you find something interesting back there.”
“But you don’t sound too enthusiastic about that,” I remarked.
“Because I’m not,” he agreed. “The thing is, I don’t really have an exhibitionistic streak in me, but why would I come to a play party and then play in private? It would be easier for me to just call Beth and book a room any other time. And, I admit, I kind of do want to show you off, and I can’t do that when we’re hiding behind closed doors.”
I really didn’t know how to feel about that. Excited, sure. Scared, too—the very idea of being the center of attention of so many people made my skin crawl. But it wasn’t exactly that which got me to hesitate.
“I’m not sure if I’m up for that. Yet.”
The moment the words left my mouth, I realized how they sounded and immedia
tely wished I could take them back. But a look into Simon’s eyes was enough to know that it was impossible—and the message I hadn’t even wanted to deliver had been received. Just my luck that I had to whip out almost the same statement he’d made when he’d admitted that he was really into me—and not ready for anything that went beyond that. And the fact that, deep down, the locked-away, vindictive part of me loved seeing the pain in his eyes just made me feel like crap.
“You know that I didn’t mean it like that,” I said when I was sure I could trust my voice again.
“Consciously, maybe not,” he replied, his voice flat.
Sighing, I cast around for something to say, but really, unless I wanted to air out all our issues in the middle of a hundred people getting their kink on, or at least watching others do so, I knew I had to spill my guts.
“If I really was that vindictive, you know I’d constantly nag you. You know that I’m really shitty at hiding anything, underlying feelings of resentment included.”
He considered that for a moment, and even managed something close to a small smile.
“True. I wouldn’t bet against you in a cage fight between you and any woman in here I’ve had sex with.”
That was too good an opportunity not to take.
“Even Beth? You would bet on me against her?”
His snort was a delightfully real sound of mirth, and finally that beginning smile also reached his eyes. He took my hand and pulled me flush against him, but now it wasn’t a possessive or sexual gesture like before.
“I would, and we both know that we’d lose, but at least we’d lose together. Happy now?”
“Not really. That’s a fucking scary thought!” I objected, but followed it up with a mollified smile. “What I meant to say is that I just feel too much like a novice. I mean, just look at these people. I bet several of them have been doing this longer than I’ve been alive!”
While we weren’t exactly pushing the age average down, we were well in the younger half of the present population.
“Nonsense,” Simon said, then chuckled. “Well, yeah, a couple of them, sure, but you have absolutely no reason to be scared of losing face or something. We’ve all been at an event like this for the first time, and you are, so far, doing remarkably well.”
“Meaning I haven’t faceplanted yet? It’s just a matter of minutes in these shoes.”
“I love how they make your legs look,” he pointed out. “And how they make you cling to me all the time because you’re afraid of falling.”
“You’re such a bastard!” I hissed. “But, seriously. I can deal with not having the body of a supermodel, although the thought of getting naked in front of everybody is giving me hives. I just don’t fit the meek and submissive mold. I know you keep saying that you don’t mind, but I’m not sure that your usual modus operandi of whipping me into bowing down will work with all of them.”
At least from what I could see, all the other subs currently getting worked over were rather obedient in their demeanor.
Simon gave me a long, hard look, and it took him about ten seconds to realize that it had no effect on me whatsoever.
“Speaking of seriously—seriously? This again?”
The disbelief and annoyance in his voice rankled, but not enough to make me back down.
“I am serious,” I assured him. “I’m afraid that in the midst of freaks, I’m too normal.”
That got me an incidental nasty look from a high-heeled goddess striding by, but when she caught my return glare she was quick to shrug and move along. Simon followed that exchange in silence, then crossed his arms over his chest with an exasperated sigh.
“I swear, one of these days I’m going to lock you up for a weekend somewhere and let you work the stupid right out of you,” he grumbled under his breath.
“You what?”
“You heard me damn fine,” he scoffed, then took a deep breath to calm down. “If you don’t want to, fine, let’s just mingle and hang out. But no one except you gives a damn about how meek or submissive or whatever else you are. The one advantage we have over the folks who stick to missionary only is that we can carve out our own reality with our own rules. Whatever works for you and me is what we do.” He paused for a moment, trying to find a better argument. “Remember what I told you about the general rules at a public party like this where everyone can buy tickets?”
There was only one thing he’d pointed out about that.
“That people keep their play pretty level-headed and don’t do anything edgy.”
Simon nodded.
“General play parties get the SSC tag—everything stays ‘safe, sane, and consensual.’ Even in closed, private parties, Beth prefers us to stay with RACK—‘risk aware consensual kink.’”
“Is there a committee working on making those acronyms sound good?” I interjected.
Simon, if anything, seemed exasperated by my attempt at levity. “I don’t doubt it. My point is, you know what a rape scene is?”
“Pretty much what it sounds like,” I deadpanned, and when Simon just kept looking at me, I sighed. “A scene where the submissive, or bottom, or whatever partner consents to enacting a scene that looks as if it were of dubious consent, or non-consensual at all. I doubt people would like you to enact that here.”
“Because we’re not all assholes and don’t delight in alienating everyone who might get uncomfortable with something that goes beyond nudity,” he replied. “But at a private party where everyone was previously informed that this would be happening, someone might enact such a scene. How do you think people would react to that?”
I shrugged, wondering if that was a loaded question.
“Those who wouldn’t like it would likely go outside for cookies and coffee.”
“And the rest?” he asked.
I didn’t really get what he wanted to hear from me, so I went with the obvious.
“If they knew it was just a scene and that all participants had previously agreed upon it, they wouldn’t do anything.”
“Exactly,” Simon agreed. “Now tell me why the very same people should judge you just because you get off on provoking and foul-mouthing me?”
Cast in that light, my protest suddenly seemed rather insignificant. Sighing, I rubbed my eyes. “I hate it when you make me feel stupid.”
Simon’s finger lifting my chin made me look at him again.
“And I hate when you doubt yourself so much. I know I’m blessed that you’re not one of those women who constantly fights with her own body issues—“
“Because it’s so easy to ignore what society screams at you with every magazine article and movie out there?” I interrupted him, but couldn’t help but feel just a little smug.
“I still don’t get how normally intelligent women can let themselves be that influenced,” he griped. “I’m a guy. I’m pretty easy to understand this way. I like tits and I like ass. And when there are five, or ten, or twenty pounds more of tits and ass, so what? The only thing that registers is ‘more tits and ass.’ If you feel like you’re not healthy anymore, or if you dislike that you don’t fit into your favorite pair of jeans, please, by all means, do something about it. But not because you think I dislike having a little more to hold on to.”
“Remind me again why are we discussing body issues right now?” I asked.
“Because it’s an equally inane subject as your reservations, but one I would understand better where getting naked in front of a hundred people you barely know is concerned.”
I was just about to snap back at him when I realized what he was doing—or attempting to do.
“Are you actually trying to guilt-trip me into this?”
“Is it working?” he replied, completely unfazed by my accusation.
“Kind of,” I admitted.
“Enough for you to trust me and give this a shot?”
My problem was, when asked like that, it was easy to agree to pretty much anything. Trust hadn’t been an issue since I got
my head out of my ass about what Simon’s motives were. Even now it was so easy to see that he was convinced that his actions were for my benefit. And as I was already here…
“Why not? It’s not like anything can go wrong, right?” I replied, trying to sound extra chipper.
Simon gave me a long-suffering look but then nodded.
“Good. I’ll get my stuff, you track down Jack. I’ll meet you outside by the buffet tables.”
And, just like that, I found myself alone, surrounded by people I probably shared more with than most of my colleagues. It was a lot less scary than I would have figured before, but I still decided that it was only wise to find Jack before he could get into any sort of trouble.
It was only as I cut through the doors into the front room that it occurred to me to wonder why Simon wanted to get Jack involved.
Chapter 5
I found Jack lounging by the buffet, but not alone. The woman he was talking to looked vaguely familiar, but that didn’t have to mean anything. After years of going to parties after getting the shit kicked out of me at work and not enough sleep, or meeting well over a hundred people a week, I had gotten really bad with remembering faces. And that it hadn’t taken Jack hours to find a cute girl to talk to was nothing new, either.
That I suddenly cared was new, and I didn’t know what to make of that. He didn’t look as if he was oozing compliments all over her, but his body language was open and relaxed, and that this was enough to trigger something inside of me didn’t exactly make me happy.
I didn’t try to sneak up on them, but he still looked surprised to suddenly have me next to him. I couldn’t help giving him a quizzical look, but of course Jack had to deflect that with one of his usual smiles.
“Erin, Raven, and vice versa,” he introduced us.
Scrutinizing the woman with newfound interest, I couldn’t help but wonder. So this was the man-eating nymphomaniac Beth had been talking about? She looked more like a soccer mom, if on the younger end. I would have expected her to be right at home at the next craft store, if she ditched that deep purple satin corset and long, black skirt. There was something decidedly homely about her. And she was so not what I liked to rag about as “Jack’s type.” Served me well, I figured.