by Jessica Ashe
“Are they the waitresses?” Tami asks, noticing the same thing.
“I don’t think so. They’re all wearing masks.” And they’re dressed far too nice to be waitresses. The dresses on display look so expensive that I assume they must be counterfeits until I see the jewelry that goes with them. If the dresses cost more than I make in a week, then the necklaces cost more than I make in a month. Including tips.
“Oh god,” Tami remarks. “Have we come to a lesbian sex party?”
A part of me would be relieved. At least that way we’d have an excuse to leave.
Then I hear a male voice in from another room, and another man laughs. Tami and I pour ourselves a glass of wine each and head in the direction of the men.
The first thing that makes this sex party—I mean masquerade ball—different from a normal party, is the complete lack of subtlety. The men don’t just cast a quick glance in our direction as we walk in; they turn and stare at Tami and me, not only mentally undressing us, but mentally fucking us as well. Tami smiles back at a few guys and doesn’t seem at all phased by it.
We stand in a corner and watch proceedings for a few minutes. I’m used to being at parties and watching other people having more fun than I am, but I’m not used to this.
The first thing I see is a man in his early thirties wearing a tuxedo talking to a woman on the sofa. Other than the masks they’re both wearing, it all looks innocent enough. Until I see where his hand is. Not on her leg; between them. He has his hand up her dress and is playing with her pussy in full view of everyone. I can even see that she’s shaved and isn’t wearing any underwear.
“Fucking hell,” Tami remarks.
“Yeah, fucking hell.” I assume she’s seeing the same thing as me, but when I look back at her, she’s focused on a man standing by himself, drinking a glass of whiskey. He’s nice looking, but not ‘fucking hell’ nice. Then I see the woman on her knees in front of him.
No one else thinks any of this is at all inappropriate, including the five women now walking into the room carrying drinks. Two each. I can’t blame them. I’m going to need a fair few drinks too if I’m staying here much longer. Each of the women goes up to a man and gives him one of the drinks. The men don’t even say thank you. They just take the drink and carry on conversing among themselves.
“I think I’ve just figured out what those two unreadable words were on the invitations,” Tami says slowly.
I watch another man command a woman to feed him appetizers from the buffet table at the end of the room, while another starts fondling a woman’s breasts over her dress with absolutely no reaction from her at all.
“Domination,” Tami says.
“And submission,” I finish. “Maybe we should leave.”
“Anonymous, remember? None of this will ever get out.”
“Do you want to be treated like that?” I nod towards the woman who is still getting fingered on the sofa, although when I look back I realize that she’s enjoying it. She’s carrying on like it’s not happening, but she’s fighting the desire to react to his touch. She wants to rock her hips and moan out loud, but she’s keeping it in. She’s playing a part and thoroughly enjoying it.
“Kind of,” Tami replies. “I’m up for something new.”
A man appears out of nowhere next to Tami. “That’s what I like to hear.”
Tami looks up and smiles. I’ve lost her for the evening. The guy is easily mid-thirties, tall, with a bit of a belly on him. Tami loves a ‘dad bod’ and is a sucker for a beard. He’s scored, even if he doesn’t know it yet.
“Hello,” Tami says to the man, resuming her fake British accent. “My name’s Alison, and this is Laura.” It takes me a second to remember that those are the names on our tickets, although I don’t think he’s going to check.
“I didn’t ask for your names,” the man replies. “Do you always speak out of turn?”
What the fuck? Tami has slapped men for far less.
“Sorry,” Tami replies, sounding meek all of a sudden. “I got carried away.”
Do I need to slap him?
“Don’t let it happen again.”
“I won’t.”
Okay, now I want to slap her.
“Go and get me a drink,” he commands. “Whiskey, on the rocks.”
Tami nods and heads back to the kitchen. I follow her because there is no way I’m standing next to him by myself.
“What the hell are you doing?” I ask Tami under my breath. “Let’s get out of here.”
“I’m having fun. It’s only a game. He’s just playing a role and so am I. You should give it a go.”
I shake my head firmly. “No thanks. Listen, you can stay if you like, but I’m leaving.”
“There were three guys in there who had their eyes on you. I will never tell anyone what goes on here tonight, I promise.”
“I know, but I’m just not interested in… whatever this is.”
I saw the guys who had their eyes on me, and I can safely say that I don’t want to go get them a drink. They looked rich, mind you. Tami was at least right about that part of the evening.
“Text me when you get home,” Tami says.
“And you text me every hour,” I reply. “I want to know you’re okay.”
I head back to the door, and into the room with the coats. There seem to be more coats than people, but it occurs to me that a lot of the doors are closed and perhaps those rooms are occupied.
I could go in and watch. I cringe at the thought, but I’m not repulsed by it. I hate the idea of people watching me being intimate, but the image of the man fingering the woman on the sofa is etched firmly in my mind. It’s not unpleasant. They probably wouldn’t mind if I opened the door and walked in to watch. The horny couple might even ask me to join in.
Should I go back?
Tonight is anonymous. I can do anything and not feel shame.
That’s the theory, at least.
No, I can’t do it. I dig around in the dim light until I find my coat in the pile. I’m heading to the door when there’s a noise behind me. I spin around and see a man walk out of the on-suite bathroom. He’s standing by the window, half-illuminated by the street lights outside, and the other half in shadow.
The half I can see is better than the whole of any man in this entire apartment.
“Come here,” the man commands, his voice deep and authoritative.
Against all my better judgment and internal voices, I throw my coat down on the bed and do what he says.
Chapter Two
Parker
Maybe this party won’t be a complete waste of time after all.
She’s beautiful.
The lighting’s poor, but I like what I see. A tight, blue dress clings to her curvy body, her chest packed together and bursting at the seams. Long, wavy dark hair flows down her back, drawing my eyes towards a round ass that immediately has my cock twitching in my pants.
I didn’t want to be here tonight. Grady insisted I show up to impress Sandra, but she’s not here yet. I’d been about to leave when I walked out of the bathroom to find this perfect specimen waiting for me.
I haven’t played the dom in a while—too long—but it all comes back to me quickly.
“Come here,” I command. There’s a touch more hesitation from her than I expect. The women here are experts at being subservient. Invitations are hard to come by, and the women who get selected are as subservient and beautiful as you get in Los Angeles.
The girl’s hesitation passes; she throws her coat down on the bed, and walks towards me, stopping a few feet away. Her golden mask suits her. I like the mask vibe; women can’t get attached to me if they don’t know who I am. I guess it works the other way around as well, although I can’t say that’s ever been a problem.
“Closer.” She moves up until our bodies are almost touching. “Good girl.”
She flinches slightly but doesn’t step away. Is it possible she’s new at this? They don’t usually invit
e newcomers. Time for a test.
“Take off your panties.” She gasps and steps back a foot, making no effort to remove her underwear. She’s a newbie; inexperienced and out of her depth. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I expect her to grab her coat and run out the door, but instead, she stands there and looks me in the eye. That’s another broken rule; she shouldn’t look me in the eyes without permission.
“Turn around,” I command. This time she does as she’s told. I admire her ass, and step up close, letting my semi erect cock press gently against her cheeks. “You appear to be new at this. Red means stop, orange means slow down. Nod if you understand.”
She nods. I finger the straps of her dress, and pull her into me, before tugging the straps down her shoulders and arms, until her breasts are completely exposed. My hands grab her generous chest and play with her nipples while she remains obediently still. Quick learner.
Or so I thought.
A man and a woman come into the room and it’s clear they aren’t here to collect their coats. He was fingering her on the sofa a few minutes ago, and now he’s decided he wants more.
When my girl sees them she gets embarrassed and tries to pull up her dress. I grab her wrists and stop her.
“We’re going to watch,” I whisper in her ear. The couple doesn’t care about us as they quickly move the coats to one side and the man sits on the edge of the bed. The woman bends over his lap and pulls up her skirt. Someone’s about to get punished.
“She’s misbehaved,” I whisper. “Do you want to see what happens to girls who misbehave?”
She nods and stops trying to cover herself up. I squeeze her breasts as we watch the man expertly spank his woman and punish her for not bringing him the correct drink.
My girl rubs her ass into my cock. Her enthusiasm takes me by surprise, and I let her do it for a few seconds before admonishing her.
“Did I tell you to get yourself off?” I ask.
“No,” she replies.
“No, sir,” I correct.
“No, sir.”
I slide my hands down to her waist and tug up her skirt until her panties are exposed. My fingers caress the soft cotton and head straight to a damp patch between her legs. She whimpers as I feel my way around her folds over the top of her panties.
“You like watching her get punished,” I whisper. “Maybe he’ll fuck her soon. Would you like that?”
She nods and pushes her sex against my fingers. She really shouldn’t do that, but I’m out of practice. Instead of punishing her, I slip my fingers under the cotton and slide straight inside her. She’s slick with excitement but tight as hell, and my cock immediately hardens as I think about doing a bit of fucking of my own.
I curl two fingers inside her and let my palm rub against her clit as we watch the woman practice her deep throat technique. I don’t care about that other couple, but my girl can’t stop looking. She flinches away occasionally, as if remembering that it’s not right to watch people doing that, but then looks back the second she hears a slurping noise or groan.
My girl grabs my spare hand and places it on her breast, encouraging me to play with her hard, erect nipples.
She’s gone too far.
“You don’t control this,” I say sternly. “Now I’m going to punish you by not letting you come.”
I pull my fingers out of her tight pussy and suck one of them greedily. She tastes phenomenal—sweet and juicy. I can’t wait to get between her legs.
I hold the other wet finger out in front of her. “Suck it clean.”
She obeys, her hot mouth clamping onto my finger and pulling it into her as she tastes her own essence. Her ass rubs against my cock again, which is now rock hard and straining to be set free. I’m about to order her into another room when she suddenly pulls down her skirt and pulls the straps up on her dress.
“Sorry,” she mumbles. “You’re right. I shouldn’t be here. I have to leave.”
She practically flies out the door, hesitating only to pick her coat up off the pile.
Fuck. There goes my evening’s entertainment.
I’ve never been good at sneaking in. I make it as far as the kitchen when I hear my sister stirring in the living room.
“Did I wake you?” I ask Marie, as she comes in and grabs the glass of water from my hand.
“No, I was reading a book. I’m surprised you’re back so early.”
“It’s gone midnight.”
“I figured the fun wouldn’t start until the early hours of the morning when everyone’s wasted.”
“It’s not about getting wasted,” I reply, pouring myself another glass of water. “If you have to be wasted to have fun at these things then you probably shouldn’t be there.”
“Whatever. I’m not an expert on these ‘alternative lifestyle’ parties like you are. Give me a glass of wine and a normal date in front of the television any day.”
God, that sounds boring. I may not have gone to many ‘alternative lifestyle parties’ lately, but I haven’t become a total bore overnight. Not that I’m about to encourage my sister to get involved. It’s nice not having to worry that she might be under one of the masks. That could get awkward, fast.
“You want anything to eat?” I ask.
“It’s late.”
“Yeah, but I have a craving for a fried egg sandwich.”
“That does sound good. But make mine with brown bread. I want to at least pretend I’m being healthy.”
“Suit yourself.” I grab some eggs and a loaf of bread and cut off some thick slices.
“Please tell me you’ve washed your hands,” Marie says. “I dread to think where they’ve been.”
“They’re clean,” I reply. I wish they weren’t. I kept the mystery girl’s scent on them for as long as possible, but eventually, nature called, and you know, hygiene and all that crap.
I shove the bread in the toaster and start frying the eggs. I don’t have many talents in the kitchen, but if there’s one thing I can do perfectly it’s fry an egg. Without fail, I cook the whites through and leave the yolk runny, waiting to get soaked up into the bread. It’s a talent that often goes unappreciated.
“Are you going to stay the night?” I ask.
“You just want me to look after Olivia in the morning.”
“No, I’m asking because it’s late and you look tired. I have tomorrow off and I’m spending every minute of it with Olivia.”
“I’m choosing to ignore your comment about me looking tired. Anyway, it’s not that late, so I’ll head home. Unlike you, I don’t enjoy waking up in other people’s beds.”
“Remind me how you met Michael again?”
“Very funny. If you want free babysitting services then I suggest you focus on frying those eggs.”
Speaking of which, the crackling from the pan suggests they’re about done. I slide the eggs onto the lightly toasted bread and press down, savoring the moment the yolk breaks and soaks into the bread. Almost as good as sex.
“I’m going to hire a new babysitter soon,” I say. “I’ll write up a new ad in the morning.”
“Can’t you go back to the same agency and get a new one? At least you know all their employees have undergone background checks.”
“That didn’t help much with the last one. Anyway, they don’t want to work with me anymore.”
“Christ, Parker, what did you do to the last girl?”
“Nothing,” I reply firmly. Marie looks at me doubtfully. “I didn’t, I swear. She was the one who broke the rules.”
“I know all about your rules. What did she do? Refuse to call you daddy when you spanked her?”
“Okay, one, that is not how it works. Two, not those kind of rules. I told her not to go in my private room and she did.”
“Maybe she went in there by accident,” Marie replies.
“It’s locked. The key was hidden in my bedroom, so she must have snooped around to find it. I would have fired her if she hadn’t quit.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“And get a full-time babysitter. You’re too busy for a part-time one.”
“I don’t want to neglect my daughter.”
“You’re not neglecting her. You’re just a busy man with a lot on his plate. There’s no shame in needing help.”
“I’ll think about it,” I reply, as I pass Marie her sandwich. “How was Olivia tonight? Did she give you any grief?”
“She was an angel, as always. Except for the part where she made me play with those Avengers dolls.”
“Justice League.”
“Whatever. She’s always Wonder Woman, and Wonder Woman always wins.”
“I always liked Wonder Woman as a kid, come to think of it. I wonder why?”
“She’s a hot woman who carries around a whip,” Marie replies. “It doesn’t take a genius to make the connection.”
“It’s not a whip, it’s a lasso.”
“Were there many ‘lasso’ wielding women at your party tonight?”
“No, unfortunately not.”
“So you didn’t meet anyone?”
I hesitate briefly before answering. “No, not really.” I didn’t even get her name, and judging by the way she ran out of the party, I don’t think our paths are going to cross again.
“In that case, you should come to the party Michael and I are hosting in a few weeks. I’d rather you met a woman there than at one of your parties, for Olivia’s sake, if nothing else.”
“Maybe,” I reply. In three years of being a single father, I’ve never once gone out looking for a woman who would make a good mother to Olivia. My brain doesn’t work that way when I’m with women, so instead I stick to casual encounters and do my best to raise Olivia by myself.
I’m managing—barely. With babysitters and Marie’s help, Olivia doesn’t want for attention. Things won’t get any easier in the next few months, mind you. Buyers are sniffing around my company and that makes it hard to leave the office on time. Marie’s right. I need to bite the bullet and hire a full-time babysitter. Maybe even one who will live here if things work out.