I only realise I’ve started holding my breath when she does a firm and very deliberate stroke up my core and I gasp, shifting in surprise.
“You’re doing so well, Emmy. Remember this is all about you. There’s no pressure, just follow your body’s instincts.”
I force myself to breathe again as her fingers once again sweep through my core. I twitch, widening my legs slightly, as my body begs for more. She starts massaging either side of my clit – only touching the skin a couple of centimetres either side – in deft strokes and I start panting. Oh god. Oh god.
This woman is going to make me come.
“Would you like to move onto your front for the next bit?” Lotus asks, and I whimper an affirmative, rolling over and keeping my eyes shut tight. She keeps one hand cupped around my pussy and uses the other to massage my breasts, rolling my nipples lightly between her fingers before moving both handsback south. I bite my lip as a moan threatens to force its way out of my mouth.
Sparks are firing all over my body and I’m fully panting now, my body fighting to chase the sensations. It’s then that she puts two fingers inside me and my body bows off the massage table, as a tidal wave starts to build deep in my abdomen. This is no amateur move. She’s working my g-spot with such precision that I’m absolutely breathless, squirming as the sensation grows. It only takes a few firm strokes either side of my clit again before I positively detonate.
I cry out, harshly, as my body thrashes under the power of the orgasm Lotus has wrung out of me. She works me through it, and I swear I’m convulsing for twenty full seconds before the wave crests and I’m suddenly boneless on the table. I’m pretty sure I’ve just seen God. She gently withdraws her fingers and resumes her massage, going back to my arms, and ignoring the aftershocks as my body twitches on its way back down. A few moments later, I open my eyes and find her smiling down at me.
“How are you feeling, Emmy?” she asks, massaging my hands with her magical, magical fingers.
“Like I want to come back every week,” I reply, and she laughs softly.
“See what I mean? Wouldn’t there be much more harmony if we were all getting enough sensual touch?”
I murmur an agreement and close my eyes again. I’m woken about 10 minutes later by Lotus handing me a cup of tea. Thirty minutes later, I’m back on the train to Fulham.
I close my eyes and press a palm against my chest, as if to hold this feeling in place. I’ve never felt so settled within my own body before. It’s a sense of peace and contentment I didn’t know I could manifest. I definitely owe Sloane a drink for that little hookup.
I smile to myself and open my notes app. “Have a truly selfish orgasm” just got a very smug little tick.
CHAPTER 11
Luke
“Bourbon, boss?”
I’m leaning against the bar in my usual spot at Salt, scanning tonight’s crowd when my bartender, Pawel, offers me a drink. I nod and a few moments later, he slides a cold glass my way, ice cubes clinking.
“Thanks Pawel. It’s busy tonight,” I observe, looking around. A show’s just begun and the bar is momentarily quiet while people settle in their seats to watch Gloria. Gloria’s one of our regular performers – she does an aerial silks routine that ends with her naked, suspended in mid-air. It’s a massive crowd pleaser.
“Sure is. Jessie said she’s never had so many bookings for the playrooms. The cleanup crew are going to need a pay rise,” he grins.
I return his smile. Jessie runs an incredibly tight ship and our hygiene team are practically SWAT-level operatives. They can turn over a playroom in about 12 minutes flat and the next client would never have a scrap of evidence that the room had been occupied beforehand. They’d make a killing doing crime scene cleanup but thankfully they’re paid handsomely for both their skill and their discretion at Salt.
I sip my drink and watch Gloria for a moment. She’s incredibly lithe and the way she shimmies up the suspended silks is the perfect blend of athletic skill and erotic expression. She executes a perfect tumble, the silks catching her by the ankle, as the crowd gasps in unison.
“Evening, Luke,” says a voice beside me. Lazlo, a broker I met a few times in the City, comes to stand next to me at the bar. He’s straightening out his shirt and reattaching his cufflinks so I assume he’s fresh from the playrooms.
“Lazlo,” I reply, giving him a nod. I can’t bear this guy. He’s smug and arrogant like the worst of the City, with a tendency to flash his cash. I haven’t got any grounds to bar him from membership here but I’m never happy to run into him. He’s a snake.
“Gloria’s looking rather good tonight. You’ve had her before, right?” He elbows me as if we are friends and I do my best not to flinch in revulsion. He’s right – Gloria and I have played together in the past – but there is no way in hell I’m confirming that with him. I lean back on the bar and put half a step’s distance between us.
“Gloria’s an exceptional artist,” I reply and he rolls his eyes.
“Sure, but is she exceptional on her knees?” He leans in. He smells of sex and strong spirits. We’ve got a two-drink maximum here but it doesn’t stop people from knocking back a few before they arrive.
“Lazlo, do you need to be reminded of our code of conduct?” I say lightly, keeping my eyes on the stage. “Respect and consent, or your membership is revoked. Goodnight.”
I stride towards my office without a backward glance.
An hour later, there’s a knock at my door. I climb off my Peloton, positively soaked in sweat. My little chat with Lazlo set my blood boiling and I knew I had to work it off before I went home. A hard ride is usually an effective stress reliever for me but I’m still on edge as I look to the door.
“Come in,” I call, as I towel off my neck and forehead. Gloria’s head appears round the door and she slides in.
