“Patience,” he says, the single word like gravel as it travels through the full-face leather mask he wears and whatever machine resides inside it to alter his voice. Part of me wonders what his voice sounds like, but the other, much larger part, doesn’t care to know. This feels… somehow… safer, not knowing. This man could be anyone.Icould be anyone. But it doesn’t matter.
Is this what it’s like for people that come to these events? Carefree anonymity?
It’s intoxicating.
His hand slides lower and I sway forward, searching for more.
“So eager,” he says, his gravelly, mechanical voice a near purr. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be patient, though. We have rules.”
I exhale, shoulders deflating.
I’m exploring this side of myself for the first time in thirty-seven years; haven’t I been patient enough?
He caresses my cheek with the pad of his thumb and I lean into the touch. It’s been so damn long since a man has touched me. “You must be vetted before I can play with you.” He strokes my jaw with his knuckles and I shiver. “You’ll need to fill out the application, agree to a background check. An extensive health check. If you’re approved, there will be membership dues, orientation, which, for us, involves a welcome night at the club.”
My pout must be obvious because he chuckles. “I’d ask if you are sure this is something you want to be a part of, but I think I already know the answer.”
I laugh, then try to duck my head but he holds my chin steady, keeping my eyes locked on his.
“Speak your mind.”
“I’m not sure, not even a little bit.”
He breathes deeply, those massive shoulders rising and falling as he does, then he gives a curt nod. “What is your body telling you?”
I swallow hard. My pulse races quickly, blood pumping hot through my veins.
My palms are clammy, fingertips tingling.
There’s an ache in my belly, a throbbing in my core.
Arelentlesspulse between my legs.
My panties are damp and uncomfortable, the slippery fabric of my no-show thong doing absolutely nothing to absorb my arousal.
“Your mind might try to talk you out of this, but your body will always tell you how you really feel. It’s important to listen to those cues, and be mindful of them. In fact, this is necessary.” His hand still rests against my lower belly and he presses against it, sending a shiver of need down my spine. “Your body doesn’t know shame or societal norms. Your brain has been programmed to normalize vanilla sex, but your body craves something more. It knows what it needs even when you don’t.”
He leans forward and that hand between us finally dips lower. My mouth opens on a quiet gasp, apleasewaiting at the tip of my tongue—
But he still doesn’t touch me where I ache for him.
I tremble, teetering dangerously close to an edge I don’t quite understand.
How, without his fingers between my legs, without even the slightest brush of his thumb over my clit, am I swollen and aching, buzzing with the need to combust?
I’m crazed and heated, sweating as I wait for whatever he’s going to do next.
This man could tell me to bark like a dog and I’d happily fall to all fours for him.
I don’t know what’s happening to me.
“You’re wet for me, aren’t you? Dripping honey between those sweet thighs. Your cunt aches, pulsing around an emptiness so vast you worry you may never feel full again.”
His crude words, though shocking, only stoke the burning flame inside of me.
“Oh god,” I murmur, because he’sright.
Tears press against the backs of my eyes.
