Overwhelmed

by Marita A. Hansen

  We followed him down the steps, stopping as he pointed to a wall, which contained leather constraints. “If you’re interested, you can tie up your wife or husband here and have some fun with them,” he said with a smile. He took a few steps past us and indicated to a swing-like contraption on our right. “Would you like to have a try?” he asked, looking at me.

  I shook my head.

  “Oh, come on, Kelly,” Tom said. “Just give it a go.”

  I sat down, the angle I was forced into no doubt giving the men a flash of my G-string. I placed a hand on the skirt of my dress, unable to stop the blush from heating my cheeks.

  Fritz pointed to straps on the side of the rope. “This is where you can put your feet up, tying you in. Would you like to try it?”

  “No, thank you,” I said, holding a hand out for Tom to take, keen to get off quickly.

  Tom helped me out as Fritz indicated to a cushioned table by the wall. “You can make love here too,” he said, then headed past us.

  Tom wriggled his eyebrows at me. “I’m definitely getting you back in that swing.”

  “In your dreams,” I replied, following him and Fritz into another room.

  Fritz indicated to some toilets and a shower, which all had doors. “This is a unisex bathroom. After you use the shower, please put the towels in the basket and make sure the water on the floor is wiped up, so no one slips.”

  Nodding, Tom and I followed Fritz out of the room. We headed back up the tiny staircase. My eyes flicked to the couple, who’d been kissing on the couch earlier. They were doing more than kissing now, going from PG to R18 within minutes. Naked and moaning, the woman was writhing underneath the man, telling him to fuck her harder. He picked up speed, his bare arse clenching every time he thrust inside of her, his muscular body a sight to behold. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing, the display before me leaving my mouth hanging open and my face blazing.

  Looking amused, Tom flicked me a grin, then headed down the other staircase with Fritz. I quickly raced after them as they cut through the main room and entered a smaller one on the other side of the front door. A large television was on the wall with a porno playing on it, the actress groaning loud.

  Fritz pointed to more towels and condoms, as well as a round bed on our right, then his gaze zeroed in on me. “We have a rule here. If you say no, it means no. If someone becomes pushy or tries to take liberties without permission they will be made to leave. We want our patrons to feel that they are safe.”

  Comforted by his words, I nodded in approval, giving the man a smile.

  He smiled back. “I’ll leave you to it now. Have fun.” He turned and left the room.

  We followed him out, heading for the bar. Tom asked for a rum and coke, while I got a lemon, lime, and bitters. After paying, we sat down next to the same couple who’d been sitting there prior to our tour. They were nursing their drinks and talking.

  A bell went off. Fritz’s wife moved to a monitor, looking at the black and white image of people on the screen. They were standing by the fence where we had been. She pressed a buzzer, then went back to the bar as the man next to us got up to order another drink. Fritz disappeared through the red curtain, probably going to welcome the people arriving.

  Tom turned to me. “What do you think of the place?”

  “It’s not bad,” I replied, and meaning it. Despite the couple in the other room, it wasn’t as shocking as I had thought it would be. Plus, they hadn’t been out in the open, only off in a corner.

  “I want you back on that swing,” Tom said. “Butt naked.”

  I smiled. “Not happening.”

  He grumbled, “Spoilsport,” although it sounded half-hearted, more jokingly. “What about the curtain area?”

  “Maybe later,” I said, taking a sip of my drink as a couple in their late forties entered with Fritz. The man was wearing leather pants and a black button-down shirt. He was slim and good-looking, his wife not as much. She was wearing a short black dress and had her long brown hair poofed up, reminding me of my high school friend Phillipa. They headed to the bar, talking amicably with Fritz’s wife, who appeared to know them well.

  The bell went off again. Fritz’s wife excused herself from the couple and let in more people. Minutes later they appeared through the curtain. The first couple were ordinary looking and overweight, while the second pair were drop-dead gorgeous. The blonde model-like woman appeared to be in her late twenties while the man was much older, probably in his mid-forties, although he was more than a match for her. His chiselled face and sultry looks resembled the male models women talked about on Facebook and Goodreads. He had a few grey streaks in his black hair, giving him both a distinguished and sexy air at the same time. He also had stunning pale eyes, the lighting making it hard to tell whether they were green or hazel. His gaze moved to me. He smiled, his expression telling me he knew I had been staring at him. His eyes lowered down my body, stripping me bare with just one look.

  A feeling of foreboding told me to look away, but I couldn’t, the man too entrancing. He slowly licked his lips, the gesture an invitation to kiss them, something I wished I could do. The thought shocked me, kick starting my conscience. I forced my gaze to Tom. He was talking to the man next to him, totally unaware of what had just happened.

  I glanced down at my wedding ring, mentally cursing myself for even looking at the man. Appreciating someone’s looks was fine, but he made me feel guilty and dirty. Not in the sense that he was sleazy, no, he was far from that. Instead, he made me feel dirty like a cheat.

  I cleared my throat, wishing I could clear my head as well, getting rid of all those strange feelings of guilt. I took a sip of my drink, willing myself not to look back at the man, because he was definitely trouble.

  Laughter came from the bar, drawing my attention to it. The couple in their late forties picked up their drinks and walked over to where I was sitting, saying hello to the thirty-something couple on my left.

  The woman’s attention moved to me, her gaze appreciative. “I love your dress,” she said, her accent Australian. “Where did you buy it?”

  I sat up, happy that someone was talking to me, because Tom was now jabbering nonstop about his construction business to the man next to him. “The Gold Coast,” I replied, relieved by the diversion from David Gandy’s older, better-looking brother. I smiled at my description of him, because who was better looking than David Gandy?

  The woman smiled back, probably thinking I was smiling because of her. “Well, your dress is gorgeous. I wish I had your figure,” she said, although I didn’t know why, because she was slim, just not as top heavy as I was. Maybe she was meaning that, because the dress did accentuate my double-Ds.

  “By the way, I’m Fiona and this is Damian,” she added, indicating to the man beside her, the one dressed in leather pants.

  He turned to me and held out a hand. Up close he was even more attractive, with dark blond hair and chocolate brown eyes. I wondered why he was with Fiona, because they looked like a mismatched pair. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his eyes flicking to my breasts. I shook his hand. Tom stopped talking to the man next to him and focused on Leather Pants, who instantly reached across me to shake Tom’s hand. “Gidday, I’m Damian. What’s your name?” he asked, seemingly not interested in me anymore.

  Tom shook his hand, giving Damian his name. The man moved past me and started talking to Tom. He was distinctly masculine, but his walk was a touch effeminate, giving me the impression of an aging rock star.

  Fiona frowned. “Looks like he won’t be dancing with me anytime soon. Would you be a sweetheart and join me instead? I don’t want to make a fool of myself dancing alone.”

  “Sure,” I said, getting to my feet. My eyes went to Gandy’s brother again, making me wish I knew his name. He was leaning against the bar, openly staring at me. He lifted his glass, a ghost of a smile playing across his lips. Feeling embarrassed, I gave him a half-hearted smile, then refocused on Fiona, who had starte
d to dance.

  Fiona’s eyes lowered to my chest. “You have great tits.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, not knowing what else to say, her compliment embarrassing me.

  “I’m jealous.” She touched her own. “I’m not exactly endowed up here, but if I was, I’d definitely be flaunting them.”

  I nodded politely.

  People laughed behind us, drawing my attention to them. It was a couple standing to the side of the man who was staring at me. I wished he would stop, because he was far too sexy for my conscience to handle. Once more, I forced myself to look away.

  Fiona clicked her tongue. “You lucky thing. I’d love for Eric to look at me like that. He may fuck every woman in this room, but he never looks at them with true desire.” Her gaze flicked past me. “He’s still staring. By the way, I’m hoping to have some fun with him tonight, so don’t hog him.”

  My face heated. “I’m not going to do anything with him.”

  Her gaze shot back to me. “You’re going to turn him down?” she said, appearing shocked.

  “I’m married.”

  “So am I, but this is a sex club, where you can fuck whoever you want without cheating.”

  “I’m not sure about that.”

  “Is this your first time here?”

  “Yes, though I went to another club with my husband, but we didn’t really do anything there.”

  “Tatum’s Place?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s because it’s boring with no hot guys to fuck. The gorgeous, wealthy guys all come here, not to that dump.”

  “It was alright, I had fun.”

  “No doubt playing pool. Well, you’re in for an eyeful tonight. This is a real sex club, not that dead-end other one.” She nodded at Eric. “You want me to introduce you to him?”

  I shook my head.

  Her eyes flicked to Tom. “Well, I guess your husband would be enough for me too: very sexy. If you’re interested in group sex, you two won’t have any problems hooking up here. Or if you’re into swapping, I’m sure you’ll get plenty of interested couples.” She winked at me. “I know I am. Would you like to do a swap? Damian’s fun in bed.”

  “No, we’re just experiencing tonight,” I said, my nerves returning in a second.

  “Well, when you’re ready to move to the next stage, keep us in mind.”

  I nodded out of politeness.

  Her attention moved to her husband. The man was doing a funny shimmer in front of Tom and a woman who had sidled up to them. Fiona shook her head. “My man really can’t dance, but he still looks great in those leathers.” Her gaze shifted to Tom. “Yours would too. Is that a tattoo under his shirt?”

  “Yes,” I said, surprised by Tom’s expression. He was looking at me hungrily, with an intensity I hadn’t seen in years. It was almost as though he’d noticed me looking at Eric and was competing with him. Or maybe it was just a trick of the light, or more likely my imagination, which was running wild right now.

  I excused myself from Fiona and went to sit next to him.

  Tom smiled at me. “You alright?”

  I nodded, then froze as Eric walked over to us.

  He stopped next to Fiona’s husband and placed an arm around his shoulders. “Hello, Damian,” he said, sounding British. It had a touch of posh in there, but was deep and sexy as hell.

  Derek stopped his funny shimmer and gave Eric a hug. “I haven’t seen you here for a few weeks, been busy?”

  “Yes, I had some authors taking up way too much of my time.” His gaze flicked to me, his mention of authors making me wonder whether it was a coincidence or if he knew who I was. But he couldn’t. I was self-published, with most of my small fan base outside of New Zealand. My books weren’t even in the shops here, which irritated me to no end, considering a lot of my novels were about New Zealand. Though, it was mostly my fault, since I was too shy to approach the booksellers.

  Eric’s gaze moved to Tom, who was staring at him with an expressionless look. He held out his hand. “I’m Eric Firth. And you are?”

  “Tom Hamlin,” my husband replied, shaking his hand. I could imagine Tom criticising Eric’s posh accent in his head, calling him a wanker. I almost smiled at the thought.

  Eric’s gaze moved to me. “And what is your name?”

  “Kelly Hamlin. I’m Tom’s wife.”

  He smiled, displaying a set of perfect pearly whites. I was finding him more attractive by the second, the man heating me up far too fast. Yet again, guilt flowed through me, my thoughts causing me to feel as though I was betraying Tom.

  “I haven’t seen you here before,” Eric said, flicking his gaze to Tom. Up close, I could see his eyes more clearly. They were a pale green with a hint of gold. He refocused on me, entrapping me with his stare. I wanted to look away, even more so with Tom sitting right next to me, but I couldn’t, the man far too enthralling.

  Eric broke the stare. His attention moved to the main floor, where Damian was now lewdly dancing with his wife. Eric laughed, his whole face lighting up in amusement.

  I picked up my drink, relieved that he wasn’t looking at me anymore. I almost wished I had a stiff drink, something that could knock the embarrassment out of me. Though, I wasn’t much of a drinker, alcohol not really to my taste, plus some red wines made me feel sick, my allergy to tannin a nuisance.

  A woman walked up to Eric. He turned to her, his tall frame facing away from me.

  Tom placed his hand on my back. “Do you want to go to another part of the club?” he asked, the techno music soft enough for me to hear him clearly.

  Nodding, I rose to my feet, focusing fully on Tom. He took my glass and placed it on the bar, then directed me past Eric. I kept my eyes straight ahead, refusing to allow the man to affect me anymore. I was here for my husband, not some British man I didn’t even know.

  6

  Tom and I headed past the giant birdcage and up the staircase that led onto the curtained room and couches. The couple that had been having sex earlier were now gone. In their place was a threesome: a man and two women, who were kissing and touching each other. Tom and I moved to the empty couch on the other side of the tent-like room.

  “You like the place so far?” he asked, not mentioning Eric, because I was sure he’d noticed him staring at me.

  “It’s alright,” I answered, now unsure, Eric’s affect on me unwelcome. The man was provoking feelings of betrayal and guilt with just one look, something I didn’t know how to handle.

  Without warning, Tom leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed him back, needing to be distracted from my thoughts. A second later, he cupped one of my breasts. I pulled away and looked around, conscious that someone could see what he was doing. But no one was watching.

  His hand ran down my cheek, drawing my attention back to him. “Move to the other side of me, so I can block anyone from seeing you,” he said, probably realising I was feeling self-conscious.

  I did what he asked. As soon as my butt hit the couch, Tom pushed me onto my back, taking me by surprise. With hooded eyes he lay down on me, kicking my heart rate up a few notches. He started kissing me, his hands going all over my body. His fingers slipped under my dress, gripping onto my arse. I kissed him back, wondering again whether anyone was watching us, but willing myself not to look. We were here for each other, not anyone else. I just needed to keep telling myself that.

  I started to relax into his kisses and fondling, Tom’s touch familiar and safe. My surroundings disappeared, allowing me to get lost in him. Tom undid the straps at the back of my neck and pulled the top of my dress down enough to expose my lace-clad breasts. I went to object, but his mouth latched onto one of them, sucking on my nipple through the lace. My self-consciousness disappeared in an instant. I groaned, my man so damn good at sucking my tits. I may not have had any experience with other men, but I didn’t think anyone else could make me feel as good as this.

  A giggle broke me out of my ecstasy. I glanced over as a woman slipped into
the curtained room. A man, who I assumed was her partner, put his hand through a hole in the curtain, causing the woman to giggle more. Tom murmured something, pulling my attention back to him.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You look so sexy,” he answered, looking sexy himself. “You feel comfortable with doing a bit more.”

  I nodded, glancing to check that no one was watching. A couple walked past us, and headed down the steps that led to the sex swing. They didn’t pay us heed, so I nodded at Tom again. Once more, the club wasn’t as bad as I had imagined it would be, the place definitely catering for couples. Plus, it was darkish in the area we were in, which didn’t make me feel like I was on display.

  “I want to suck on your tits,” Tom said, pushing my dress down to my waist. My gaze flicked to some more people as they walked past, one of the men giving me an appreciative glance. They disappeared down the staircase where the other couple had gone. The glance made me feel good—unlike Eric’s, which instead created a maelstrom of guilt and lust within me, something that I knew could get out of hand if I didn’t rein it in.

  Tom unhooked my bra and slipped it off. Before I could feel self-conscious about being exposed, he leaned down and latched onto one of my breasts, blocking people from seeing me naked from the waist up. And right now, I didn’t care if anyone saw, because Tom’s mouth was working overtime, causing my brain cells to evaporate.

  Tom started dry humping my leg, his cock fully hard. He detached his mouth from my breast and grabbed a hold of my nipples, rolling them between his fingers. He moved his mouth to my ear. “Can I fuck you?” he whispered into it, his breath warm against my skin.

  “Not yet,” I replied, noticing Eric stop a few feet from us. He was talking to the lady I’d danced with. His gaze flicked to me, lingering a little too long, then moved back to the woman as she said something. He smiled and nodded, then followed her down those very popular stairs, the woman probably going to get that hook up she wanted.