by Cecilia Tan
“Okay, sweets. Hold on to the bed now, because the ride’s about to start.”
I took two handfuls of the bedspread, breathing hard in anticipation as the crinkle of the condom wrapper reached my ears. Then I heard cloth rustle—was he getting all the way undressed? Yes. I felt bare skin along my back as he lay down on top of me, kissing my neck and rutting.
The rocking motions of his hips gradually brought the spongy head of his cock to center on my rear hole. He knocked on the back door firmly but gently, smoothly, until the muscles gave in and the angle was just right and oh.
The first inch of him had gone in, and he held in place a moment before pumping gradually. “Holy fuck you’re tight. Is this the ache you like, sweets?”
“Yes, sir.” My own voice sounded strange to me, low and guttural and flat against the bedspread.
“Open up a little more for me now.”
He pushed in another inch, still rocking and rolling his hips and spreading the ache from there all through my legs and extremities. So good. When anal is done badly it can make you swear it off forever. When it’s done right, though, it’s like a perfect delicacy, rare and precious and memorable.
“How’s that, sweets?”
“Good. Oh, fucking good,” I said, melting into the sensation.
“Good,” he said, and then I felt him shift to one side.
He’d reached for his phone. “I wonder how many times you’ll come during this,” he said with a casual, offhand manner that was borderline cruel. It made me feel so deliciously dirty to be treated like a plaything by him.
As the power on the vibrations inside and out went up, he began to thrust into me harder. The full length of him driving deep pained me sharply for a moment before it was obliterated by the pleasure vibrations. And then the orgasm started building, this one from deep in my bones, shaking me like an earthquake. I screamed into the bedspread, beating my fists, barely even feeling how hard he was pounding me now. His fingers gripped my hips so hard they might bruise but all I could feel was wave after wave of release.
And it didn’t stop. The harder he fucked me, the more it multiplied the vibrations, like the heavy tide coming in, wave piling on top of wave, pounding against the shore. I ran out of screams and panted as I rode them out.
“You. Feel. Amazing.” He grunted between deep thrusts. “I can barely hold back.”
“Don’t hold back,” I heard myself say.
I earned another sharp slap for that one. “Who’s in charge here, Madison?”
“You. You, sir,” I said quickly.
“Maybe I should just pull out now, go take care of myself. My right hand does a pretty good job of wringing the sperm right out of me, you know. Years of practice.”
“No! No, please, sir.” Don’t ask why, but the thought that he’d finish himself off instead of inside me just broke me, like the threat of taking away a child’s favorite toy. “I promise I’ll be good. I promise.”
“Oh, Maddie, you’re very good,” he murmured, nosing through my hair as he thrust deep again. And then again on each word: “Very, very, very good.”
His approval was like a new drug, a new sensation, a new setting on the vibe, kicking off a new wave of pleasure and setting me to screaming again. This time he joined me with a roar, coming at last and continuing to thrust as he milked every ounce from his climax. Chino seemed to know how to maximize his pleasure and I lay as still as I could to let him have his way.
Then he slumped atop me and the vibrations finally stopped as he switched off the app. After having them on for so long it felt weird to be without them now.
What didn’t feel weird at all was Chino on me like a blanket, skin against skin, comforting and protecting me at the same time. “Mmmmmm.” I wasn’t ready for words yet, but my whole body was humming with pleasure and so humming I could do.
“Mm-hm,” he agreed. “You okay?”
“Mm. Fantastic. Terrific. Wonderful.”
“I know I am,” he said, and I could hear the smirk. “But really. How are you?”
“I’m fine.”
“See if you still say that when you can barely sit later,” he said and pulled gently free. “Bathroom?”
“That way,” I pointed toward the hallway, aiming my finger to the right. “I’ll come with you.”
“Okay.” He stood up, one hand on his junk, keeping the full condom in place, the other hand reaching toward me.
I tried to stand up but my legs weren’t ready for that and I sank down onto the carpet next to the bed. “Wow, jelly legs. I haven’t been fucked that hard since college.”
“Stay there,” he said, bending down to plant a kiss on my forehead.
When he returned from the bathroom he had a couple of warm, wet washcloths and a towel. He spread the towel on the floor and I scooted onto it.
“Lie down.” He knelt and eased the toy out of me, detaching the straps and setting it aside. “Got to take good care of my toy,” he said, and wiped my pussy softly with a cloth. I felt as warm inside as out. He put one of my legs on his shoulder and continued cleaning my ass and folds. “You can take care of the vibrator.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, to see how he’d react to me saying it now that the scene was over. I knew how I felt about it: strangely attached, like I wasn’t ready for that security blanket feeling to end.
He seemed to feel the same. “Good girl,” he said, and knelt down to lick my pussy like a lioness licking her cub. The sensation was amazing, even though I didn’t want to come again. And the feeling of being cared for was even more amazing. He lifted his head, his dark hair hanging in his eyes as he looked up at me from between my knees. “There you go. Nice and clean.”
“Thank you, sir.” I was definitely going to have some stuff to tell Gwen after this. What was happening to me? Whatever it was, I liked it. But was I still going to feel that way after he left and I returned to my senses? How about worrying about how you feel now instead of how you might feel later?
Right then I wanted to curl up with him and go to sleep…except that I really wanted to get to reviewing and editing the video. I wasn’t going to do that with him here, though.
A phone began ringing from up on the bed. “Is that yours or mine?”
“Mine.” He climbed up, looked at it, and switched it off.
“Who was that?”
“Nobody important,” he said, too quickly, and I knew he was hiding something. Huh. I wondered what he could be trying to keep secret from me. A girlfriend? Wouldn’t be the first time, but I had thought Chino was better than that. The nagging feeling about how he had brushed off my question about where he lived resurfaced, too. I didn’t even know his real name.
The fact that the next thing he said was that he was going to leave only deepened my suspicion. “I’m gonna get out of your hair now,” he said. “Let you get to editing that video. I know you’re anxious to.”
He knows me that well, already? But I wasn’t ready for him to leave yet and if there was some other girl or three out there, I wanted to keep him for myself a little while longer. “But I’m starving now, and I’m going to order a pizza from Vito’s. I can never eat a whole one myself, so if you could stick around just a little longer—”
“All right. Pizza and then I’ll scram.” He gave me a quick, affectionate kiss on the cheek. Then he opened his mouth as if to say something, thought better of it, and kissed me hard and passionately again instead. I’d confront him about my suspicions later. Right now everything was too sweet for me to let bitterness in.
* * *
CHINO
I took the stairs from Madison’s door down to the driveway two at a time. As I unlocked my car door I caught a glimpse of something—a flicker of sun glare reflecting off the side window of a car parked across the street. I slipped my sunglasses on not because of the glare but because I’d been coached that type of light reflection usually came off a camera lens as the camera was lifted or put down. Paparazzi? If they’d followe
d me to Madison’s they’d been waiting a long time for me to come out. It didn’t seem likely. The tabloids weren’t really interested in me. Axel and Mal got the brunt of the attention both by dint of being frontmen and also the high profile of who they dated. I had let our manager fix me up with a fashion model from time to time to attend awards ceremonies and premieres, but I didn’t really draw press. They were rarely interested in talking to the drummer. You might think, given the band’s image, that they would be sniffing around us for a sex scandal but if anything it was the opposite. As if by being in-your-face kinky we took all the fun out of exposing our sex lives. Maybe my luck had finally run out on that score. I decided to cross the street and find out if it was my imagination or if there really was a paparazzo there.
I know that’s not what I should’ve done. Our band manager, Christina, always said not to encourage them or confront them. But I’ve never been good at following orders.
There was a guy in the car. He looked suddenly worried and rolled up his window, but he hadn’t started the car yet by the time I knocked on the glass. “Hey.”
“Uh, hey,” he said. “Can I help you with something?”
“Maybe.” I could see the camera on the seat next to him. “You better be careful with that thing.”
“Oh, this is just, um, I wasn’t—”
I suddenly recognized him. “Isn’t it a little weird for the editor of the arts page to be on photo assignment?” I couldn’t quite remember his name but the band had met him more than once at press events.
“Er, uh, did Madison send you out here to beat me up or something?”
Wait, what? Did Madison have a problem with this guy? It occurred to me then that the guy didn’t recognize me. I flexed a little muscle and looked at him coolly over the tops of my sunglasses. “I think you better move along.”
“Um. Yeah.” He started the engine. I stepped out of the way so he could pull out and he nearly cut off a minivan full of Little Leaguers. As the mom driving swerved around him I heard her shouting things Little Leaguers definitely should not hear. He sped away after her like a dog with its tail between its legs.
I got into my own car and called Madison from the road. I got her voice mail. “Hey, sweets, I know you’re probably editing, but I wanted you to know I chased a guy away from your door. He was using a long lens camera and I thought maybe he was a typical paparazzi type, but I’m pretty sure he’s the arts editor from LA Newsday or one of the papers here. I don’t think he knew who I was so I think he was watching you. Kinda freaky. I ran him off but call me ASAP if there’s actually something freaky going on and you need to get away.”
I wondered if he’d been there when we went out for our “walk” with the vibrator and I hadn’t noticed. Or had he showed up later? I felt stupid for almost making her come while we were outside. Maybe that had been riskier than I’d thought.
Although, risky in what way? If the guy was some kind of stalker, was that different from the risk of, what, getting caught doing something sexy? I wasn’t afraid to get caught and I don’t think Maddie was, either. I put it on my list of things to talk about next time I saw her.
Then I tried calling my sister back, but I got her voice mail, too. I should have just called while Madison and I had been waiting for the pizza, and asked her not to eavesdrop. Would she do it? I wondered. I really didn’t want her to overhear what I had going on there. Flor’s message ended and I didn’t leave one of my own.
Chapter Seven
MADISON
If I thought things were moving fast with Chino, what with the party having been a Friday, the house hunting on Saturday, and the vibrator testing on Sunday, they were about to start moving even faster. On Monday Sakura called with a proposal.
“I have something you might be interested in.” Her voice was always a kind of purr, perfect for a sultry voiceover, even when she wasn’t insinuating something erotic. Although in this case she was. “Private party in Palm Springs this weekend. Very exclusive.”
She and I had known each other for a couple of years, having crisscrossed on everything from fetish modeling gigs to her being a loyal customer when I worked at the store and she was giving professional domination a try. The first time she’d shown up at the Governor’s Club I hadn’t been surprised to see her there. What had surprised me was that instead of being some elderly executive’s arm candy, she’d been invited to join as a full member by her old college roommate: Ricki Hamilton herself. “More exclusive than TGC?” I asked, using our code for the Governor’s Club.
“Yes, just five or six couples and a triad. Some friends of mine. They’re renting a place for the weekend. Cost is a share of the rent and kick in for food if you feel like it.”
I was making dinner at the time, trying to sauté kale with shallots but it just didn’t seem to want to cook down. “This weekend?”
“Yes. Ricki had to go up to Silicon Valley for business meetings, so she and Axel backed out. To keep it affordable for everyone it’s really best to have all the bedrooms filled. I thought you and Chino might enjoy it.”
I upped the flame under the pan. “What made you think that?”
“Oh, come on, Maddie, you were melted on him like cheese on a burger Friday night.”
“Yeah, thanks to you, you instigator,” I joked.
She cackled. “That’s me. Both exciting and inciting. Aren’t you seeing him now? I thought for sure that was the start of something beautiful.”
“I…we’re still feeling each other out,” I said, though the feeling that swept through me as I said it was a shivery ghost of the deep, deep backdoor orgasm Chino had given me.
“I thought it might be good for you guys to get away from TGC for a bit. You know.”
I pushed the kale back and forth in the pan with a wooden spatula. “I know. So I won’t have to feel like an employee; is that it?”
“That’s exactly it. Although correct me if I’m wrong, I’ve been feeling like the club has become a lot more like a good time for the employees than it used to be?”
“That’s true,” I said. “Now that there are a lot more members our age, and they’re all Gwen and Ricki’s friends and acquaintances, it feels a lot more like, well, like a club. I like that but at the same time I’m not sure it’s the best thing.”
“Why?”
“Oh, just the whole professional distance thing.” But honestly was there ever truly any professional distance between the hosts and our employers? “Anyway. You’re right. It would be nice maybe to get away with him. Who are you bringing?”
“I’ve got a friend I do performances with, Helene. I think you’ve met her before? We might come do an opening scene, or maybe we’ll just play together. We’re still negotiating.”
“Makes sense. Would it be all right if we just came in for Saturday night? I’m not sure I’m ready to spend a whole weekend with people I don’t know that well.” Or with Chino, truthfully. I was feeling my way along a tightrope where if I went too fast, I might get hurt, but if I went too slowly I might lose him. The kale still seemed rather stiff and tough. I tried drizzling some more oil into the pan.
“It’d be great if you guys wanted to come in for Saturday. The official party will start around sundown, of course, but people will be playing whenever the mood strikes.”
“I’ll ask him if he wants to go. But let me ask you something else while we’re on the subject of TGC.”
“Sure.”
“Did you know about the club before Ricki told you about it?”
“I knew that something like it existed. I had no idea it was in Ricki’s basement.”
“Hm. There’s a guy in the press who’s been sniffing around me lately. I’ve been trying to work out the best way to tell Gwen and Ricki.”
“Oh, honey, they have a PR firm at their beck and call if necessary.”
“I know, but the PR firm would have to know what they were dealing with, and currently the club is still a secret from everyone except the dir
ect household staff. I don’t want them to fire me just because a reporter is inappropriately interested in me.”
“Tell Schmitt and he’ll scare him off. He’ll put the fear of God into him.”
“Here’s the thing, though. The guy isn’t afraid of Schmitt.”
“But he should be?”
“He’s dumb enough to not know what’s good for him,” I said. “But Schmitt’s a target, too. I guess I should just tell Gwen and Ricki everything I know so far.”
“What do you know?”
“This member of the press—he tried to inappropriately get me into bed a while back. And now he’s sniffing around me and Schmitt and I’m afraid he’ll figure out about the club, basically.”
Sakura sighed. “Ricki’s out of town this week. You know they won’t discuss the club by phone at all. Ask them to meet next week. Maybe by then you’ll know more.”
“True. Maybe I should voluntarily recuse myself from the next party? Throw him off the scent?”
“Maybe.” Sakura’s voice became distant. “I’m texting you the info about the weekend party. Talk to Chino and let me know, okay?”
“I will. I’m talking to him tonight about helping me with another video review.”
“Is that gig working out well?” Sakura asked.
“I uploaded the first one today and they really liked it, so…so far, so good,” I said. “They want me to get a backlog of three in queue before the first one launches.”
“Fun.” Her voice was a pleasant burr. “I’m looking forward to seeing it.”
I got off the phone and finished making dinner, then sat on the couch with Morris and ate while watching clips of Jimmy Fallon and celebrity lip synch battles from the Internet. And yes, I wished Chino was there. But every instinct in me said I needed to slow down. I’d seen him three days in a row. If nothing else, my body needed a rest.
But I didn’t want to rest. Even thinking about him idly made heat start to rise.
Next thing I knew my phone was in my hand.