by Amy Brent
“Okay,” she said, making a face like a little kid about to get on a rollercoaster ride. “Follow me.”
We were the last ones off the bus. I won’t lie. I was getting excited about being there. It was like walking out into the great unknown, like taking the first steps on a long journey without knowing where each step might lead.
I stepped off the bus and looked around quickly. We were parked in a wide courtyard between what looked like the back of a grand hotel from the nineteenth century and a smaller mansion that Serena called, “the guest house”. The guest house? Really? Holy shit.
We were approached by a tall, dapper man with steel gray hair and cutting blue eyes. He was immaculately dressed in an expensive pinstripe suit. His yellow tie matched the hankie that was perfectly folded and tucked in his breast pocket.
“Hey, Mr. Lemon, this is my friend Amy that I called about,” Serena said, stepping aside and presenting me with a wave of her hand. “Amy, this is Mr. Lemon, the managing director of Club D.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Rossetti,” he said without offering to shake my hand. I noticed that he was holding a clipboard in his left hand. He held out the clipboard and pulled a Monte Blanc pen from his inside pocket.
“We’re pleased to have you with us for the weekend, Miss Rossetti. Before I can allow you to go any further, however, I’ll need you to sign this form.”
I dropped my bag to the cobblestones and took the clipboard. There was a legal document attached. My name was printed at the top and bottom of the document. My signature would avow that I agreed to the document’s terms. “What is this exactly?”
“It is a legally-binding nondisclosure agreement,” he said with a nod. “Stating that you will not divulge, share, report, discuss, or reveal anything you see or hear at this facility under penalty of law.”
“Failure to comply may result in a $250,000 fine and up to five years in jail?” I said after scanning the document, which was standard legal fare. I had signed hundreds of NDA’s over the course of my career. This one, while purposefully made to sound more threatening than most, was nothing new. I glanced up at him with a smile. “You boys don’t mess around, do you?”
“Not without that agreement,” he said with a smile. He nodded again. “If you’ll sign at the bottom and initial the date, you and Serena can be on your way.”
“Well, all right then,” I said, scribbling my name on the dotted line. I handed him the clipboard, he checked the signature, then tucked the clipboard under his arm and stuck out his hand for me to shake. “Welcome to Votre Désire, Miss Rossetti. Consider yourself our guest.”
“Thank you,” I said as I let go of his hand. “It’s my pleasure.”
“Yes, well…” He glanced at Serena, then smiled at me. “I believe that is the whole point of being here, isn’t it?”
Chapter 9: Isaac
“You look bored as fuck, my man,” Denny said as he brought his empty bourbon glass to the bar for a refill. He pushed the Lone Ranger mask up to his forehead and frowned at me. “Why the fuck are you hanging out here at the bar? Come sit with us. There are three new girls working tonight that we might want to try out in a bit. And I thought we were going to gang-bang Carina to celebrate Club D’s third anniversary.”
“You guys go ahead,” I said, mustering a smile. My beer bottle was on the bar next to my mask, which I had not bothered to put on. I glanced around the room. Everyone was wearing masks and having a grand time, but I had decided the masquerade idea was not for me. I had a mask, but I had no intention of putting it on. I picked up the bottle and brought it to my lips without drinking. “I’m just gonna take it easy tonight and watch the festivities tonight.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. Denny was my best friend. He knew me better than anyone. He put a hand on my shoulder. “What’s up with you, Ise? You’ve been acting really strange lately.”
“There’s nothing wrong,” I said with a shrug. “You go have a good time. I’ll catch up shortly.”
I looked past him again at the party that was going on in the banquet hall. We had hired a famous rock band from the eighties to play the party, whose name I can’t share, of course. They were rocking the place with their hits. The dance floor was crowded with members and beautiful women who were wearing nothing but high heels and carnival masks. I could have had any of the women at a moment’s notice—fuck, I could have had all of them if I had wanted. But I didn’t want them. I didn’t know why. My cock was probably wondering the same thing. It was waiting patiently for my brain to send it a signal, but so far, all was quiet. Maybe Monte was right. Maybe it was time for me to grow up. I pushed out a heavy sigh as I turned back with my elbows on the bar and wiggled my empty bottle at the bartender.
“Excuse me.”
I glanced over my shoulder and felt the breath catch in my throat. There was a woman standing there with an empty champagne flute in her hand and a gorgeous smile on her face. She was tall and curvy, with long black hair and luscious lips, wearing a little black dress and stiletto heels, with fleshy tits that spilled out the top of the dress and long legs that jutted out the bottom. Her voice was like a warm breath in my ear. I turned to face her and swallowed the lump that was caught in my throat.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi back,” she said. She held up the empty glass. “Just need a refill.”
“Uh, yeah, sorry,” I said, muttering like an idiot. I frowned at her because I had never seen her before. The only girls allowed to drink were the Escorts and Specialists. I didn’t recognize her as either one.
I asked, “Are you new?”
She smiled and I felt my cock twitch in my slacks.
“I’m a guest,” she said, leaning in so I could hear her without having to yell. “I have a friend who works here. She brought me up for the weekend.”
“Ah, so you don’t work here,” I said, alternately confused and relieved. “We don’t normally allow female guests here. You must be very special.”
“I like to think so.” She was wearing a red mask that was adorned with little pink and purple feathers. The eyelets were lined with little fake diamonds. Her eyes smiled from behind it. She held out her hand. “I’m… Am…anda… Amanda Ross.”
“Hi, Amanda Ross,” I said, taking her hand. It was warm and soft and sent little tingles up my arm and into my chest. My cock started to wake up. I leaned in to kiss her cheeks, like they did in the movies. She smelled like soap and vanilla and champagne it was all I could do to not kiss her smack dab on the mouth.
Instead, I said, “I’m Isaac Hanson. Nice to meet you.”
“Hi, Isaac Hanson,” she said, giving my hand a firm shake. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Chapter 10: Amy
They say that you never truly know yourself until you do something that is totally out of character, something you would normally never do, not even in your wildest dreams.
For me, that was stuffing myself into a little black dress and slipping my feet into six-inch heels and approaching Isaac Hanson at the party after downing six flutes of champagne and smoking a fat joint with Serena up in her room.
There was a reason they called champagne, “liquid courage”.
And a reason they called pot “dope”.
That’s how I was feeling.
Courageously dopey.
I had sat at a table watching Isaac stand at the bar for half an hour, barely listening to some fat VC fuck from the city bragging about the size of his bank account, which I knew was meant to make up for the lack in size of his cock. When I told him that I was just there to watch, he harrumphed at me and motioned for one of the naked girls to come sit in his lap. A few minutes later, I saw him following her out the door like a horny little puppy dog.
And the cash registers ring…
Even more out of character for me was the fact that I was not wearing panties and I had every intention of seducing Isaac and turning him every which way but loose before the night was over.
/> I know.
Crazy.
Totally unlike me.
But that was the point.
I needed to do something that was totally unlike me because I was started to totally dislike me! Serena was right. I had built a cocoon around myself and refused to let anyone in. I focused on work and money and building a reputation at the expense of my personal life. Other than Sunday dinners with my dad and brothers, I had voided my life of emotions and had become the stone-cold bitch everyone said I was.
Along the way, I had forgotten about Amy Rossetti, the fun Italian girl with six older brothers and the best dad in the world.
Amy Rossetti who had so much sex in college that she single-handedly helped keep Trojan Condoms in business.
Amy Rossetti who used to love to drink and party and dance and run around naked and make out in dive bar restrooms and fuck hot boys in the back seats of cars and spend the night with men whose names she would forget by the following day.
I missed that Amy.
She was fun.
She had fun.
I loved her.
The question was if I asked her to, would she really come out to play?
One more glass of champagne and I would find out.
* * *
Isaac slid sideways to make room for me at the bar. I squeezed in next to him and set my glass on the bar. It was immediately refilled by a bartender who looked like she’d just dropped out of Playboy Magazine. That was one thing I had noticed since Serena ushered me into the party, then disappeared to start serving drinks. While the men in the room —the rich members who were footing the bill—were all shapes, sizes, ages, colors, ethnicities, etc., the women were all young and drop dead gorgeous, like Serena. And many of the women, the “Specialists and Escorts” were totally naked except for feathery masks and high heels and what looked like real diamonds and jewels glued strategically to their bodies. It took me a minute to get used to things, like stumbling into a drunken orgy at a frat house (yes, been there, done that, lost my t-shirt, don’t judge) although I must admit, the air was charged with a sexual electricity that I had never felt before. My nipples were rock hard from it and the moisture was pooling between my freshly-trimmed pussy lips.
“So, Amanda,” Isaac said with a smile that nearly made me sigh. “What’s a good girl like you doing in a place like this?”
I tried to be coy, which wasn’t difficult given that the alcohol had made my eyelids heavy. “I could ask you the same question,” I said, my eyes sweeping up and down his tall frame. “What a good boy like you doing in a place like this?”
He kept smiling. My eyes bounced from his eyes to his lips and back again. He said, “Actually, I’m here as a guest, too.”
“Really?” I smiled as the lie slid from his lips. “And whose guest would you be?”
He narrowed his eyes toward the crowd and pointed at the table in the center of the room where his two partners sat with three naked women, drinking, laughing, touching. I wondered why he wasn’t with them.
He said, “See the big guy that looks like a football player? That’s my pal, Sammy. He brought me along.”
“So, why aren’t you sitting with Sammy and those girls?” I asked. I brought the champagne flute to my lips and batted my fake eyelashes at him. “They seem to be having all kinds of fun and you… well… you look a little out of place.”
“I am feeling a little out of place,” he said, nodding, the smile fading. He took a long pull off the beer bottle and shrugged his eyebrows. “Guess I’m not much of a partier.”
“Would you like to go someplace else?” I asked. “Someplace… quiet?”
He blinked at me for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure he had heard the words that I had said. “Someplace else? Like where?”
“I don’t know.” I gave him a dreamy look and trailed a long red fingernail down the line of his jaw. “Maybe your suite?”
The look on his face was priceless.
He looked a little stunned.
I freakin’ love it.
Hmmm…
Maybe the old Amy was ready to come out and play after all.
Chapter 11: Isaac
I nearly snorted beer through my nose when Amanda suggested we go up to my suite. I didn’t know why her words seemed to come out of left field. I guess I should have expected a come-on given the situation. I mean, we were at Club D, after all. And Amanda wouldn’t be there if she wasn’t willing to party. Good girls didn’t come to Club D.
Maybe that was it.
Maybe she was just another party girl looking to fuck a few millionaires over a long weekend. For some reason, I didn’t get that vibe from her. I’d been with more than my share of party girls and gold diggers over the years. Amanda didn’t give off that “I’ll fuck any guy here” vibe.
To the contrary, she seemed different somehow.
Classy.
Reserved.
Like she was here with a purpose that had more to do with her than it did with me.
She just grinned at me from behind the mask while I wiped my mouth on a napkin and tried to think of something cool to say. There was something about this girl, something I couldn’t put my finger on. She was making me horny as fuck, but she also had me nervous as a cat for some reason. And my cock was chubbing up in my pants from looking at her tits and smelling her perfume. Jeez, I was like a damn teenager at a high school dance. I had to get myself back under control or there would soon be a huge wet spot on the front of my jeans.
“Well?” she asked, sliding in close enough that I could feel the heat of her breath on my cheek. She turned to face me. She put her hand on my chest and looked me in the eye. She slid her hand down my stomach. She paused for a moment at my belt buckle, tugged on it and smiled, then slid her hand down to press her palm against my growing erection. I jumped a bit. She smiled again.
“Yes, let’s go upstairs,” I said, swallowing hard as I took her hand. I ignored the huge bulge poking out of my jeans as I dragged her along. “And let’s hurry.”
* * *
We started making out the moment the elevator doors closed. She pushed me roughly back against the wall and fell into my arms. I could taste the champagne on her lips as she pressed them to mine, then her tongue came out, swirling, poking, probing like a hungry snake. It set my mouth on fire.
The look in her beautiful eyes told me what she wanted. My eyes followed the curve of her luscious lips as she smiled at me. Yes, I knew exactly what she wanted because I wanted it, too. And I was more than ready to give it to her. My eyes dropped to her breasts, her cleavage deep enough for me to get lost in.
“Well,” she asked as she pressed the elevator’s Stop button. The elevator jarred to halt, jostling us into each other’s arms. “What are you waiting for?”
“Nothing,” I sighed, leaning in, our lips locking as her hands reached up and entangled in my long blond hair. I felt her tongue flicker against mine, the wet heat of it like a tiny cattle prod, shooting electricity through my body. I kissed her hungrily. She wanted it as much as I did. It was in the way she breathed against my lips, the way her lips seemed to heat up against mine, the way she clenched my hair and pulled me to her. She was unlike any woman I had ever been with before.
As we kissed, my hands went around her to clutch her round ass. I squeezed it hard and pulled her pussy into me. She moaned in my ear.
“I’m not wearing panties… And I’m very wet…”
I smiled at her as the gods seemed to be smiling upon me. I hiked the dress up over her naked ass with my fingers and bunched it around her waist. As one hand kneaded the flesh of her ass the other came around to find the short curls above her pussy. She pushed her hips up towards me, opening her beautiful legs, letting my hand slide between them. When my fingers found her pussy it was hot and wet, dripping, I could smell her in the stale air of the elevator. My fingers glided between her folds. She moaned against my lips and kissed me with an urgency that drove me forward.
�
��God… that feels… don’t stop… please…”
“Don’t you worry,” I said, my tongue circling her ear. I rolled her clit with my thumb and slid two fingers between her wet lips. She broke the kiss, her moans too much to keep in, and began to wrap herself around me. She pulled my head down to her neck, letting me kiss her collarbone, as one long leg wrapped around mine and gave me more access to her wet box.
I slid my fingers inside her, slowly at first, and when she began to grind against them, picked up the speed. I was kissing my way down her neck until I found the tender flesh of her breasts. She sucked in a quick breath and pulled me closer, burying my face in their glory, bucking against my fingers as I fucked her with everything I had. Her moans were turning into soft screams of pleasure, and her thighs began pushing against my bulge, moving against them, driving me crazy.
I pulled away, too excited to fucking take it anymore. I wanted to strip her naked and have my way with her right there in the elevator. “Let’s get to my suite,” I whispered, thinking that I would cum in my pants if we didn’t stop. “Let’s to my suite… now.”
Amanda wasn’t ready to go anywhere. She grabbed my wrist and pulled my hand back to her pussy. “Don’t you stop,” she whispered in my ear before biting on the lobe and running her tongue around it. “I’ve waited too long for this moment… Don’t you dare fucking stop!”