by Portia Moore
He leans back, searching my expression as if to make sure I’m okay. I give him a reassuring smile.
“If you are,” he says curiously.
“Yeah. I just want some time with you if that’s okay.” And a wide smile spreads across his lips.
“You don’t ever have to ask for that.”
I’ve never been to Kam’s place before and I’m glad we left before Katie and Blue did. Hopefully she’ll go back to his place. It’d be weird bumping into them now and I wonder how it’s not awkward sharing an apartment with your sibling, even if you are close. Not that I know anything about being a sibling.
We pull up to a large industrial building on a street that looks like a miniature downtown. I’m surprised when he hops out and leaves the keys in the engine before opening my door.
“Valet’s going to move it,” he says with that easy charming smile, oblivious to the convenience he has. There’s a beautiful lobby, bright and modern, and a large elevator that’s big enough not to trigger claustrophobia, and soon we’re stepping out onto the tenth floor. There’s only three doors on the entire floor which is shocking since the place is so huge. His reads 503 directly in the center. We step inside and I shouldn’t be surprised but I am. This isn’t just an apartment, it’s an amazing apartment! One of the most beautiful places I’ve ever stepped in, at least. There’s floor-to-ceiling windows lining the place, large sleek furniture sitting dead center in the middle, to the left is a sprawling kitchen that would be right at home on one of those home design shows. I see now why it isn’t awkward to share a place like this with his baby sis. This place is big enough to have all the privacy they’d ever need.
“This is home,” he says, like he hasn’t shown me one of the most impressive apartments I’ve ever seen.
“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking it all in.
“You’re beautiful.”
I turn to see him leaning against the door, his eyes on me, a heart-stopping smile on his face that steals my breath. His gaze full of what I can only describe as admiration. This look, a look that I’ve never seen before, a look that makes me feel beyond myself, better than myself. And it’s scary because I don’t know if I can ever live up to how he sees me, even though I want more than anything to be the woman he desires, to merit his time, attention…and one day his love.
He shows me around the apartment, his hand never leaving mine, his touch always near. Everything is perfectly sleek as I expected. Katie’s room is on the opposite side of the apartment and I bet as large and straight out of a style magazine like his.
“My mom decorated the place,” he says with a sheepish smile.
“It’s amazing.”
“You’re amazing,” I say with more confidence than I feel walking towards him. His stare from earlier soft, well-intentioned, warm, and comforting, has shifted. There’s heat in his eyes, a visual display of how much I want him. I’ve never wanted a man before to touch me, kiss me, do things to me that would give me release. But ever since I met him, every day I’ve spent with him, each touch, each kiss…has been building inside of me. I wonder if he can see it, feel it, smell it. I place my hands on his chest. It’s hard, wide, and strong, and I slowly move my fingers up it. His hands move to my waist, our eyes lock, not leaving each other’s. I take another step towards him so our bodies are pressed together, separated by pieces of material I want gone. My heart is racing, beating fast. Butterflies invade my stomach.
“I have something to tell you,” I whisper, my eyes moving to his chest.
“You can tell me anything.” His voice is deeper than it’s been.
“I’ve never…I’m a virgin.” I spit it out quickly. I watch the slightest furrow of his brow. He can’t hide the surprise in his eyes.
“It’s something I’ve had to fight unbelievably hard to keep.”
You?!
I take another deep breath.
“I don’t know why I tell you things like this, why you make me feel like this. I never thought it’d be possible for me, but I don’t want to keep questioning it. I’m only telling you this because if I suck at this you’ll know why.”
I’ve said it, it’s out.
When I look at him I don’t see contempt or confusion, but the warmest look a man has ever given me, one that almost looks like he’s honored.
“I don’t know what to say. Are you sure?” he asks me, but his breath is heavy and his grip tightens on my waist. I respond by unbuttoning his shirt, and that’s the only answer he needs. He lifts me up by my thighs and I cling to him. He gently lowers me to the bed, standing in front of me looking like a Greek god. My heart is beating so fast. I’m about to do this, give away a part of myself I’ve never shared with anyone else! His lips trail down my stomach. They’re so soft and my desire grows with each inch they take. He kisses me tenderly—a fluttery kiss—through my underwear, and I can’t conceal my whimper. He gently pulls them down and when his mouth takes me in I begin to melt. I try to be quiet, afraid that someone will hear me, but I can’t. Every second the pleasure increases. I try to pull away, not wanting for it to stop, but it’s becoming overwhelming and he holds me firmly in place. All I can do is grip the sheets and his hair before I come apart with a shriek that embarrasses me. Kam stretches his lean athletic body over me, kissing my body on the way up as he does, my heartbeat slowing back down.
“You’re so beautiful Megan,” he says, and takes my lips in his with the taste of me on them. Our kiss goes from tender to deep as my legs wrap around him. I can’t get enough of him. I hear the condom wrapper open. His mouth moves to my neck as he consumes every bit of my skin. He leans over me, our faces are only inches apart.
“Are you sure?” he asks me tenderly, but his tone is desperately on the edge. He’s desperate for me, and his primal gaze sets me on fire.
“Yes. Please,” I say. His finger slides down my center first as his thumb begins to play me only second to his tongue, and then I feel him…just the tip…and close my eyes as he kisses me. I grip his back. I want this so badly but the noise in my head tries to interfere, the thoughts, the voices of doubt, fear, insecurity trying to overpower this moment. Loud, angry, and shouting.
Red
You can’t do this.
Blue
Don’t do this.
Purple
This is wrong.
“Black,” I say as he enters me. I gasp as he does. He’s thick and I feel stretched.
“You okay?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yes, don’t stop,” I plead. And he doesn’t. He goes slower and deeper and each thrust feels better than the last. I’m in heaven, in love, in lust. When we’re done and I’m wrapped in his arms, he trails sweet tender kisses on my shoulders. It’s the best feeling I’ve ever had. I ignore the last voice.
I hate you.
Ian
“She’s nuts right? She’s got to be!”
“You’ve said that at least twenty times already. Actually, all you’ve done is talk about this girl the whole night. I’m about to go and buy you a box of tampons and some chocolate,” Simon, my best friend, jokes before giving Devin a high-five. I punch him in the side but he’s right. When did this happen to me? I’m not the type of dude that whines and bitches over a chic. I’m usually complaining about a girl going all stalkerish or demanding a commitment which I make pretty fucking clear from the start I’m not looking for.
“I’m not complaining, she’s obviously nuts and I dodged a huge bullet,” I correct him.
“Wait—you didn’t know she was psycho after the high speed chase?” Simon adds smugly. He’s usually pretty smug but that’s because he’s right about most things.
“Hey, the leather fuckboots had him hypnotized.” Devin comes to my defense. Unfortunately Devin is usually wrong about everything, but it works out since he’s a comedian and he’s always able to find inspiration from his fucked up hijinks.
“Well you’re still talking about her a week later, so I don’t know who’s cr
azier,” Simon comments, finishing the last of his beer.
“I’m just saying it’s weird. You tell me if something like that happened to you, it wouldn’t bother you?” I say defensively.
“Look, I think it was the beach thing. Girls always have this idea it’ll be romantic and magical but really, the sand gets in your junk and your hair, and it’s scratchy and wet. No wonder it dried her up like the Sahara desert,” Devin adds, signaling for another beer.
“I didn’t say she was dry, she was just sort of closed up…” I correct him.
“Who wants a girl with a broken pussy?” Devin blurts out loud and the table next to us laughs. I always tells him that he only got his hot as hell girlfriend because he’s laughed her out of her common sense. He does sets all the time around the city, and usually is pretty funny. When his jokes aren’t directed toward me.
“It wasn’t broken,” I tell him defensively, standing up.
“Calm down,” Simon says, ushering another mug of beer to me.
“Awww come on, Ian. Don’t be like that…” they call after me through laughter, and I flick them off.
“Fucking jerks,” I mumble under my breath, but I sort of feel like karma’s kicked me in the ass for all the times I called them pussies for being hung up on a girl. Especially Devin; he’s been planning on proposing to his girlfriend Shauna for the past three months and I always give him a hard time, wondering why a dude would want to get married when he isn’t even twenty-six and seems to be on the brink of a breakout career.
I should be out having fun. Now Alana I can have fun with…she wouldn’t want me to call her a million times a day and respond to her texts within five minutes…but I’d never admit it out loud.
“Guess what?” I turn to see Simon with a shit-eating grin on his face.
“You’ve grown a pair of balls?” He waves me off but throws his arm around my neck.
“We got put on the list for Code Black!” he says, barely containing his excitement.
“What is that, some type of paintball place?”
“Dude it’s one of the most exclusive gentlemen’s clubs in the city!” He seems annoyed that I’m not sharing his enthusiasm. I can’t believe I picked last year to stop smoking.
“What is that, where you smoke cigars and watch strippers?” I ask, unenthused.
“Not just any strippers, the hottest of the hot. I’m not talking nines and just being naked. They’re supposed to cater to our every whim.”
“And how much is this going to cost us?” I ask. His smile grows wider.
“That’s the beauty, we’re comped, my uncle’s marrying his second wife. Two of the groomsmen aren’t arriving until tomorrow so we get to take their place.”
“So free liquor and half-naked women?” I ask, starting to become more interested.
“Not just any women…I’m talking about the best Chicago has to offer. These girls will knock Annie Wilkes right out of your mind,” he promises.
“Okay sure, why the hell not?”
“Oh, but you’re going to need a suit…” he tells me before pulling me back through the bar.
“A suit for an overrated strip club?” I ask, baffled.
"Trust me, it’ll be worth it."
Code Black is located on the Gold Coast, one of the richest parts of the city. On the outside it looks like a really large warehouse aside from the spread of foreign cars lining buildings. We pull up to the valet and step out. There’s two large dudes, both at least 6’5”, but these guys aren’t your run-of-the-mill bouncers like at the clubs we usually go to. They look more like Russian mafia than overweight moonlighting cops.
“Good evening gentleman, how can we help you?” A tall slender man with a strong accent asks before we even cross the threshold. I glance over at Simon.
“We’re here with the Taylor party. You should have us down. Simon Darlton and guest,” he says authoritatively.
“Congressman Taylor’s party. Of course. Follow me, gentleman.” He leads us past the black glass doors that close automatically behind us once we enter. He goes behind a long black desk. The room is different shades of grey with black accents, but it’s just another barrier to where the actual club is. From here it looks like the check-in of an upscale hotel.
“Your invitations and IDs.” He turns towards us and pulls out black cards as I slide my ID over to him after Simon does.
“I trust your uncle has explained our code of conduct here?” he asks with a wide smile, but his words are stern.
“Yes. Of course,” Simon tells him. The dude’s gaze lands on me. I don’t know about any rules, Simon didn’t tell me shit, but I figure it’s the same rules as any strip club.
“Your phones, gentleman.” I look over at Simon, who takes his out and hands it over easily. I hesitate.
“What happens inside Code Black stays in Code Black. If you need to make a call your hostess would be happy to supply you with one of ours,” he says, reading my expression. This shit actually is starting to seem weird and when I open my mouth to tell him, Simon he gives me a glare about not messing this up. I push air out of my lungs and hand him my cellphone.
“You are in the Platinum Black area and all charges have been comped. Gentlemen, welcome to Code Black. I trust you will enjoy. Your hostess, Eve, will take you from here.”
As soon as he finishes his spiel a redheaded woman appears from the door behind him and Simon subtly nudges me.
“Good evening gentleman, welcome to Code Black. It is my pleasure to welcome you in.” Her voice is like liquid sex. She’s tall, her body statuesque, and only covered with a black bra and panties with stockings up to her knees. She’s perfect and I can’t find a flaw on her. It’s like she just stepped out of a teenage boy’s wet dream into a grown man’s fantasy.
We follow behind her and the door closes behind us just like the first one did—and it’s like we’re in a different world. “If this is a host I can’t image what the actual strippers look like,” Simon says in a hushed whisper, watching the host’s ass jiggle.
“Entertainers. They are here to entertain you gentleman,” she says, tossing us a flirtatious but reprimanding grin.
The place is huge. We’re walking on what looks like the second of three floors. On the first there are tables and booths that are all filled, surrounding four large stages, each with beautiful women dancing on them.
“What are your tastes this evening, gentleman?” she asks, and I tell her Tequila as she leads us to a private booth with something too large to call a table.
“Cognac for me,” Simon tells her. She gives us a wry grin.
“I mean your first entertainer,” she corrects him. We both swallow hard.
“Tall, short, Latina, thin?” she asks, and we can’t believe we can order like we would a drink on the menu. We both look at each other and I can’t help but feel pretty damned excited.
“A little of everything,” Simon says casually, and she smiles widely.
“Of course,” she says.
“Your server for tonight will be Camara. She will provide you with whatever it is you should desire. If and when your taste changes for your entertainment just press the black button in front of you and we will provide you a different view.”
“Thank you, Eve,” we tell her as we both watch her walk away. As soon as she does she’s replaced by Camara, a smoking hot black girl wearing a silver teddy covered by a black see-through robe. She delivers our drinks order we incorrectly gave to Eve.
“Your first time here, gentleman?” she asks, flashing perfect white teeth, her oval-shaped eyes sweeping over us, and damn she’s sexy. I wonder if all the women here are trained to exude sex on a stick.
“How’d you know?” Simon asks flirtatiously. She leans in towards us.
“Our patrons are usually more…mature.” She gives us a wink and when we look around, having not bothered to look at the other dudes, every guy here looks over forty and fucking loaded. And other than the goddesses walking around
in lingerie or dancing on the stage completely naked, there are no women. “The girls are going to love you guys,” she purrs before sauntering away.
“Dude…” Simon breaths out. And I get it. I feel like I’m fifteen again. I squeeze him on the shoulder.
“You did good, reaaal good!” I laugh.
“Devin is going to shit himself for not coming out tonight,” I say. Before long, two beautiful women approach our table, one blonde and one brunette, looking like Victoria’s Secret models with curves, and begin to seductively dance in front of us and then with each other. I lean back in my seat, taking a long gulp of my drink. I look around for dollar bills that usually litter the clubs I’ve been to, and there isn’t any in sight.
“How do we tip them?” I whisper to Simon.
“I think they have numbers, and we tip on our cards,” he says, pointing to the screen on our table next to a black button.
When I bring my gaze back up, the blonde is kneeling in front of me, her tits perfect and nipples glaring at me.
“Dance?” she asks, and my eyes widen.
“Hell yeah!” I say excitedly. She slowly walks down the stairs, looking like a younger Scarlett Johansson, naked except for a pair of black Stilettos. She bends over and opens the bottom drawer neither of us noticed, and pulls out a pair of what looks like silk hand ties.
“We have a no touch policy, so that means I have to tie you up.”
I put my hands out in front of me. She climbs on my lap and leans down so we’re face-to-face.
“Back,” she commands with a wide grin, bringing my arms behind me and tying my hands behind my back while her breasts smash against my chest. She then stands, moving her body seductively to the music before pressing her body against my lap.
“Good evening gentleman. You’re in for a special treat tonight. I am going to sing a song…just for you…”
The hair on the back of my neck stands up. That fuckin’ voice. The soft tone wrapped around a seductive throaty purr. I sit up, making the blonde on my lap shift to the side of me so that I can see what my ears already know. It’s her, wearing a white lace bustier, matching panties, and angel wings. I swallow the lump in my throat as she opens her mouth and begins to sing, and her voice is sultry and soulful as she croons out “At Last.”