Page 41 of Stroke Rate

Chris rolled his eyes and let Jackson off the hook, the biting of his lip let Chris know he wasn’t feeling up for discussing the drama in his life. “Fine Jackson. But next time I want to be filled in.”

Jackson nodded, sucking on his lip ring again, before letting it go with an audible pop. “Anyway, tell me what you guys have been doing? Oh, what can I get you to drink? Chris, I know you’ll want a Dr. Pepper. River, would you like a drink? We have kombucha on tap.”

River couldn't help but scrunch up his face at the offer of kombucha. “Um, no, thanks. I’ll just have an iced tea if you have it, please.”

“Coming right up.”

Chris and Jackson talked, and River listened, letting them catch up as he continued to look around the space, trying to figure out where all the doors that lined the walls led.

"Hey you guys," the big man who was on his knees at the entrance said as he approached—now with a shirt on under the gleaming black harness. A pleased grin lit up his face as he looked from River to Chris, noting River’s hand gripping Chris' thigh, a hint of a blush coloring his cheeks under his thick beard. “I’m Bran, and you met Phae,” he said, tipping his head to the side. Phae stood beside him, his arm possessively snaked around Bran's waist, as he nuzzled behind Bran’s ear. “It's so good to meet you, River,” Bran said, shaking River's hand. “And fuck Chris, it's been too long,” he exclaimed, offering his hand for Chris to shake. Chris didn’t take it. Instead, he stood and pulled Bran into a hug. River heard a gasp leave Bran’s mouth as he stood stock-still, not hugging Chris back.

“Hug me back, you fool,” Chris said as he squeezed Bran’s middle. With a final exhale of tension, he placed his muscular arms around Chris’ shoulders. River could see Bran whisper something in Chris’ ear, but couldn’t hear what he said.

Huffing a laugh, Bran asked, “What the fuck, Chris?” With hands on Chris' shoulders, Bran held him at arm's length to get a good look. Bran gazed upon Chris—a huge smile that showed straight white teeth ‌framed by plush lips hidden behind all of his facial hair.

“Let’s not make it a thing. But, uh, you can fill me in on whatever I witnessed when we walked in at the entrance. You look good in a harness and on your knees for Phae.” Chris offered Phae a subtle, knowing wink, as River observed Bran’s face redden to a deep purple with embarrassment. Phae looked at Bran with such evident fondness that a light flush spread across River’s own cheeks.

“Leave me alone,” Bran said, turning his face into Phae’s shoulder as he kissed the crown of Bran’s head.

Chris huffed an exasperated noise. “Fuck, y'all are cute. Now fill me in on what's been going on.”

***

As Jackson, Bran, and Chris caught up, their cheerful banter forming a pleasant backdrop, River sat back, a contented smile on his face, his eyes finding Phae's, who seemed just as happy to passively enjoy the moment without uttering a word. A palpable feeling of happiness buzzed through the bar thanks to the guy’s joyful laughs and constant chatter, and River loved this for Chris. He adored the way Chris’ friends seemed to love him and that he had found a place of acceptance and safety. As he watched, River felt a sliver of peace, helping to fill a little more of the void in River’s chest.

River caressed Chris' back, his breath warm against Chris' ear as he whispered, "I need to use the restroom," and Chris, with a knowing smile, reached out and grasped his hand.

“Hey guys, we need to use the restroom, and I’m going to show Riv around.”

“Show him around,” Jackson said with a teasing lilt as he tried to wink, failing horribly.

“We’ll be back,” Chris said as he dragged River towards one of the black barn doors.

“What are all these doors?”

“Do you want to look at one, Riv?” He wiggled his eyebrows, which were flicking so fast they seemed disconnected from his face. “They are privacy closets…patrons can just go and use one for whatever. We could have some fun in there…”

“Uh, no, and you? Behave,” River growled, smacking Chris’ ass.

“Lame.”

As they approached a set of double barn doors, Chris stopped River with a hand to his chest. “I want to take you in here, but I’m warning you that there could be things happening. Do you want to check it out?” And as nervous as River felt at the various possibilities of “things,” he was more eager; his cock was very interested as it thickened and kicked against his thigh.

“Yeah, I want to see,” he said as he gave Chris a playful nudge forward. With a series of beeps, Chris entered the code, and the massive black doors slid apart, revealing a shadowed hallway into which he led River, hands clasped.

Chapter thirty-four

Chris

The air in the shadowy hallway was heavy with the smell of sex, and crimson lights marked the perimeters of the floor and ceiling. Soft moans and the faint squelch of skin slapping skin accompanied the club's thrumming bass. The entire atmosphere pulsed with sexual tension.

Chris stopped them in front of one of the open voyeur rooms. It had floor to ceiling windows, the hallway above giving everyone watching a three hundred and sixty degree view of the action below. In the room, a naked man kneeled, his ass facing the large window. A bar was secured behind his legs that held his testicles, resembling a pillory for his genitals. A woman to his left tapped a flogger against his back and then his rear, torturing the man in the very best way. Every time he jerked away from the flogger, the device on his balls pulled tight, making them turn from red to an uncomfortable-looking purple.

Chris pulled River close to whisper in his ear. “That's The Humbler,” he said. His voice was breathy, hot, and moist against River’s skin. Chris licked a stripe from River’s neck to earlobe, before sucking it into his mouth, rolling it a bit with his tongue. He repeated the motion: a bite, a hard suck, before releasing it with a wet pop. River was gripping the shit out of Chris’ hips; his firm touch was sure to leave ten little bruises along his hips tomorrow, and he couldn't wait to see them. A handful of onlookers ambled by while River shoved Chris against the wall, their hips grinding with the intensity of their desire. Chris adjusted their position, giving River an unobstructed view of the show unfolding below them.

“I want you to watch,” Chris whispered before kissing River’s neck, his collarbone, trailing his lips over his clothed chest before taking a nipple between his teeth and yanking. A hiss fell from River’s lips as he yanked on Chris’ hair, making him look up.

“You're playing with fire, you dirty little boy,” he said, licking his lips as Chris smiled up at him.