Brothel: The Magnolia Diaries

by Anthology

  I slammed the martini and poured another, checking my still-dark eyeliner in the floor to ceiling windows, and looking out at my sparkling pool.

  Skinny dipping. That’s what flashed through my mind. The first sunrise I’d ever seen had been after a night of rolling in the hay with Shep. He’d been a boy, but a boy that knew how to cherish every inch of me. Those same flannel blankets that I’d been reminded of earlier were wrapping around my skin once more, right along with his hands.

  Damn did those hands like to explore. Every inch of my body, tangled in my hair, teasing at my nipples. When he’d tried to push into my backside, I’d shoved him back, and he’d tripped, tumbling into the pond. I hadn’t laughed that hard—or had sex in the water—since.

  My smile spread wide while I stayed staring at the sunlight on the water, seeing both it and the morning almost sixteen years ago.

  Another martini bit the dust.

  When I started sipping on a third beverage, I walked from the bar back to the spare bedroom. I leaned into the door and swayed slightly as it swung in. I barely used the room. Loneliness was something bred into my bones and coursing through my blood. At sixteen, I’d traded the emptiness of a shadowy broken home for the vacancy of a full bed.

  Only Shep had been anything different. Only Shep had filled that vast gaping hole I’d been born with. But now, picturing us skinny dipping, either in the pitch black or warm hues of sunrise, I couldn't recall the finer details of his charming face or shape of his gangly limbs.

  Third martini down.

  I knelt down on the carpet and reached under the bed, patting around for the shoebox hidden way in the back. My hand skated on soft cream carpet as I dove further and further back. When I still hadn’t brushed my fingertips against it, I laid down, my naked chest pressing into the carpet. The friction mixed with the memory of Shep’s wandering hands was enough to make me draw in a sharp breath.

  In the very back was the silver box, the only thing I’d taken with me when I left Virginia in the dead of night. I pulled it over and rolled onto my back, bringing it with me. I rested the box on top of my stomach and started pulling out the most priceless things I owned.

  Love notes. Cootie catchers. Fishing lures. An intricate lover’s knot necklace. And pictures. So many pictures. Shep had gotten a Polaroid camera for his birthday and we’d made good use of it. Stacks of sixteen year old me, small boobs and all, our travels up the seaboard, and him, perfect glorious Shep slid through my fingers.

  Then there was the one that always delivered a serious blow. We were naked on the morning I’d been envisioning in place of my infinity pool a few minutes ago. The hint of sculpted muscle had been starting to show on Shep’s boyhood body. The erection he’d sported was the only thing manly about him. Well, that dick and the way he held me, like he’d keep me safe, keep me protected, keep me afloat through anything the world threw at me. I was sticking out my tongue at the camera, and my free hand, the one not working the camera, was between my thighs on a dare. It had gone in Shep’s mouth moments later. And that dick…

  I was reaching around the box to touch myself before I even thought about it.

  A vision of adult Shep, of what he’d turned into, appeared in the room right along the ghost of Shep past. They both went to work on me. Tongues on my clit, darting in and out of me. Hands, both young and smooth and old and skilled, pawed at my tits. I writhed against the fur behind me, arching my back off the carpet and up to those imaginary bodies. Shep had always kept his hair short, almost shaved, and I had loved to rub it as I bowed against him. I liked to think that he still wore it perfectly cropped, because between my thighs…

  I groaned out as I changed from circling my clit to plunging into myself.

  But the stranger’s hair had called to me too. Waves had fallen into his eyes, and the soft silken locks begged me to twist into them.

  I pressed two fingers into me, making them circle and stroke at my G-spot. Young or old, Shep would need some pointers on this part, I’d learned too many lessons on my back not to know how to bring blinding pleasure to myself—or my bedroom partner if requested.

  The photo trembled in time with my ragged heartbeats as I rubbed and rubbed on myself. I was already getting close. And as I whirled and stroked, writhed and arched, it was the Mystery Man's beautiful eyes that pinned me.

  If the most glorious, toe-curling orgasm hadn’t sweep through my body, I probably would have paid more attention to the fact that both men had shining golden eyes.

  *****

  Shep

  “I don’t know how long I can do this. She’s a bloodhound, she’s gonna figure it out. We’ve done this ten times, and her patience is running short with you.” Trevor Worthington III was already sweating in the driver’s seat. “She’s a fucking bloodhound man. There was this senator running his mouth—”

  “I’ll handle her, Trevor.” My quiet and sharp warning cut him off. “I’ve handled her so far.” Our back and forth had gotten downright sporting.

  “I just… She could… I mean, she could ruin me.” He audibly gulped.

  “She could ruin you?” I shot him a sideways glance. “I will ruin you if you fuck this up. And I’m talking about throwing the book at you. Full charges reinstated, punished to the full extent of the law if you don’t get your shit together.”

  Tension wove through the car, similar to the mist weaving around the giant ornate pillars of the plantation style mansion in front of us.

  “Get in there, get laid, and don’t draw unnecessary attention to us. Leave the Madame to me.” I couldn’t help but snarl when I said it, when I thought of her and what I’d like to do to her.

  He shook the car when he shoved out of the driver’s seat, and I took a moment to watch him go. Trevor Worthington III had been caught falsifying books, embezzling money, and giving inside information on stocks. And thank God, because his filth was letting me catch Marcus Deveroux’s slime. He was letting me mine into this den of sin and reap whatever benefits I could, bring down any criminals possible.

  I blew out a deep breath and shoved out of the car after him, glad he couldn’t see the look on my face. She did unnerve me. On a visceral level. Not because I thought she would sniff me out, but because of that body. That devilish, siren’s call of a body.

  The stairs creaked like any good Southern mansion would as I grabbed the railing and followed him through the double doors. Like the other night, warmth wrapped around me, laced with the scent of vanilla and almond. Crushed velvet waited for me wherever I chose to sit. But more importantly, she waited for me, steeped in sin and seduction.

  The Madame stood at the front of the room, a crimson mask obscuring her razor sharp eyes. It matched the long-sleeve, floor-length lace dress that covered every inch of her. Well, except the tantalizing flesh visible between each delicate design. The hint of her rosy nipples peeked from behind the barely-there flowers. The shadow between her thighs was a sharp contrast to the deep rich color of the fabric.

  Oh, I’ll handle her all right.

  I’d handle every single curve she had on display like I drove an F1 car. And what was worse, I’d justify it as pumping her for information.

  I slid into the same chair I’d been in the other night and draped myself over the arms, leaning back to stare up at the ceiling rather than out at the girls she began parading out. Skin was everywhere. Pale, pink flesh. But it was nothing compared to hers, to what was barely hidden beneath the lace, beneath the mask. One by one, I let all the little tricks pass me by.

  “You.” The smokiness of her voice finally cut through the room. I lifted my head, a slave to that sultry sound. “You’re back,” she managed and I swore she almost choked as she swallowed.

  I let a lazy smile spread across my face. “So glad I made an impression.”

  “I wouldn’t call being an entitled ass an impression.” She put her hands on her hips again, and her body snaked in response, her tits swayed the slightest bit where they were wrapped
in lace.

  Fuck me.

  I stood and walked over to her exactly as I had before. “I do believe I am entitled to that ass.” I planted myself in front of her and let my eyes rove wickedly over her skin.

  “Fuck you,” she spat back. I moved closer.

  “I’d like nothing more.” My lips were almost close enough to brush her skin. She studied me for a moment, her body arching ever so slightly. “Madame, you said you deal in fantasy…” I let my voice trail off. “I’m desperate to fulfill yours.”

  If she were putty in my hands, if she were mine to control… I couldn’t help but lick my lips.

  “I can fulfill my own fantasies, thank you very much.” She narrowed her eyes at me.

  “I’d do you better,” I challenged.

  “Doubt it.” Her lips were almost black today, like her colors from the other night simply swapped places. I stepped closer to her, brushing my body against hers. She growled as her nipples peaked, sneaking out from behind little scraps of deep red.

  For a split second, I swore I’d stepped too far, pushed too hard, but then she reached for my shirt. She fisted the fabric near my collar and, without a word, pulled.

  I followed her down the hallway, barely paying attention to my surroundings. Marcus Deveroux could have been watching over my very shoulder, but I couldn’t pull my attention from The Madame. We twisted and turned down hallways until we reached a simple white door. She clicked it open then used her grip to shove me inside. And damn did I let her.

  Low light warmed the room, bulbs were hidden behind sconces and runners, creating a soft ambient glow. The room was simple but coated in rich fabrics. Fur blankets and slick satins mixed in with brushed steel, so at odds with the rest of the decor in the mansion. Nothing was ornate, nothing was classic, or southern, or vintage. It was chic and modern and her. Perfectly her.

  “Sit down,” she said sharply, motioning to the chair beside the bed.

  “Gladly. Though I’m better on my feet.” I folded nicely into the seat. “Even better on top.”

  “That’s nice,” she shot over her shoulder as she dug through a drawer beside the bed. “But as I recall, this is about me. About what I can do.” She turned back toward me, shiny handcuffs in hand.

  I nodded, letting a smirk spread across my face. “I’ve got you,” I said as sinfully as I could manage.

  “You mentioned that.” She leaned in, her masked face inches from mine, her lips close enough I could move to take them. “I believe my response was I got this.” Perfectly timed with her snark and smirk, metal clamped down on my wrist.

  *****

  M

  The way some sort of primal fury flared behind the mystery man’s golden eyes when I cuffed him to the chair was both amusing and enticing. For a split second, I thought about letting him do just what he’d promised.

  But this wasn’t about want. It was about getting my message across, once and for all, and getting him out of the brothel. Men like him only got the message in one very specific way—visually.

  I bent down to the hem of my dress and slowly pulled. Inch by inch, I revealed my long legs, then my smooth sex, the curves of my torso and my plump breasts. I made damn sure to arch and roll my body like a snake as I pulled the skintight lace overhead. I turned away from him as I tossed the dress aside, and ensured the deep red mask was still firmly in place. I adjusted it the slightest bit then bent over, putting every inch of me on display. I planted my palms on the floor and slid my heels wider, just to give him an exceptional view.

  Then I started stroking. First up my legs, letting goose bumps trail along my skin, then back and forth across the apex of my thighs. The primal groan behind me sent shivers up my spine. And had me pushing into my slickness.

  One finger. Then two. And three.

  I’d always been good at putting on a show. And since I’d stopped sleeping with clients, I’d gotten damn good at pleasing myself. My palm rubbed on my clit sending little waves of pleasure rippling out from my core. I surrendered to it, letting my body tremble and arch, my knees bent and stretched back out.

  And my fingers… They did what they did best, dancing fast and furious on my G-spot. An orgasm was coming, my muscles relaxing and going rigid all at the same time, so I dropped my hand. With an exaggerated flip of my body I stood, my hair cascading around my shoulders like a raven curtain.

  I blew out a deep breath, letting my legs steady before I walked over to a different drawer. I let my fingers drag along the furniture on my way and the only sound that interrupted the click-clack of my heels was the ragged breathing behind me.

  The dildo I pulled out was an impressive size and could suction onto surfaces, handy for the client that wanted double penetration without sharing. I turned around with a wicked smile only to find the mystery man had his equally impressive cock out. He was rubbing on himself with his un-cuffed hand.

  Lust roared in my belly like a lion.

  Once again, I debated going to him. I could sit on that pretty dick the way I was about to sit on the dildo. He’d fill me up, that free hand would paw at my skin, those groans would be mine…

  But I hadn’t spread my legs for free since Shep. I hadn’t had sex without control since the night that had cost far more. The night that sent me running from his arms into the warm embrace of this life. I didn’t mind my choice. I didn’t mind the solitude, and I practically wore the control like fur or lace.

  I wasn’t about to give any of those things up. Not even for such a lovely cock.

  “You wish,” I murmured just before I pushed the toy into my mouth.

  I didn’t hesitate for a moment, sucking and twisting as if it was golden eye’s delightful dick. I leveled my gaze right over top to fix on him as I pushed it deeper and deeper, worked it harder and harder. He matched me move for move on his erection. And without blinking.

  That was enough of a challenge for me.

  I licked the base of the toy with a flat tongue then suctioned it to the mirror leaning against the wall. I bent back over, making sure that my body was angled enough that he had a view of my reflection and my tits as they swayed. His mouth dropped open as I started to tease my slit with the thickness; my smile quirked up high enough to brush the mask I wore.

  Further and further, I pushed myself onto it, letting my body roll and writhe, changing angles, changing reflected pictures. I let my hands wander along my neck, my breasts and down my body. I flicked my nipples here and there, gasping and purring wildly.

  “Anytime, buttercup,” he groaned out, his body flexing against the chair.

  “Fantasy fulfillment takes time.” I slid off the dildo and stood, leisurely stroking my clit, and pulling the slickness backwards. “Oh, and you can call me M.” I let loose my most devilish smirk as I lined up the dildo with my backside and pressed myself on smooth and deep.

  *****

  Shep

  Holy fucking mother of God.

  The flesh colored toy pressed into her ass swiftly and, in the reflection, she all but swallowed it. I swore I could feel myself sliding in as my muscles bunched, and blood rushed between my thighs. Before I could really do much about it, cum was spurting out and onto my hand, drizzling down to my open fly.

  M laughed a wild, sultry, and downright wicked laugh, colored with honey as it seeped through the room.

  For a minute, I was lost to everything but pure release. Bright white colored behind my eyes and my heart gave out one deafening beat, then nothing. Nothing but bright stars in the night sky and fresh cut hay tickled my senses.

  But her beautiful moans brought me back. Lust rushed through me again, a semi already back in my hand. When I fully focused back on the scene in front of me, I went rock hard.

  In and out, in and fucking out. The damn dildo plunged into her, spreading her wide. She thrust herself with enough force that each little fiber of her being shook, the glass seeming to ripple behind her. Long skilled fingers, manicured and painted black as the sinful lips framed by
her naughty mask, danced between her thighs. Soon they were pushing in the way they had before, consuming that sweet little pussy every bit as fully as the toy had. Her other fingers played at her nipples, danced around her neck. And damn if I couldn’t imagine me in place of her; stroking, sweeping, stuffing every inch of her.

  She was building this time, faster than I was anyhow.

  I was barely stroking myself, more entranced by her than anything else. By her movements, her confidence, her pure revelry in her own body and pleasure. Her moans were fraying at the edges, beautiful ragged sounds, her black lips wide from pure want. Tight little nipples bounced up and down. Her hand worked furiously on her G-spot while the other wrapped into her mouth and around her neck.

  A beautiful, agonized moan cut through the room and threatened to cut through me. I broke. And not with an orgasm this time. I dug in my pocket without taking my eyes off the firestorm in front of me. I got what I was searching for just as her eyes fluttered shut. Her knees quaked as I made quick work of the cuffs.

  I was up out of the seat a second later, the metal clanking back against the chair, just as she crumbled to the floor, sliding off the toy and away from the mirror as she went. Still, she didn’t stop. Three fingers inside her and her palm rubbing wildly between her thighs had her quaking with passion against the floor. With one more delicious and delightful cry, she splashed onto her hand and down her thighs.

  M jerked once or twice as I nudged her legs apart with my toe. She tried to stop me but her body was still too limp for her to do much. I crouched down and laid out along her, my dick seized when it touched the flaming hot skin of her stomach.

  She shoved against me.

  I stayed stalk still, studying her. Beautiful glacier blue eyes met mine, a ring of gold in the center, warm and familiar as it wavered between want and fury. I leaned in close, letting her pure almond and vanilla scent wash over me as it mixed with her overwhelming arousal. My body ached for her, every damn inch of her, and I let it rest a little heavier onto her.