“Pick a door, any door,” Clara says, looking at the row of entryways.
“Why me?” I protest.
“Why not?” she shrugs. “We’ll take turns choosing. You go first.”
“Fine,” I say. As I walk down the line of doors, flashes of movement and bare skin appear in the corners of my eyes through the doorways. I keep walking until I reach an open door with nobody in the room beyond it. “This one!” I say triumphantly.
The girls follow me in. This door has an image of a whip on it. I wouldn’t even know that’s what it is, except the room is lined with rows of different whips.
“Whoa,” Clara breathes.
Some of the whips look playful, with candy-colored fur and feathers adorning them. Some look like regular whips someone might use on animals. And others have spikes, metal chains, and things I can’t even recognize or name.
“People like to get hit by these? For fun?” I say dubiously, carefully placing my finger on a spike on one of the whips to see how sharp it is. “Ow!” It’s as if the whip bites me; the spike is sharper than it looks, and I see a droplet of blood appear on the tip of my finger. I stick the finger in my mouth and suck on it to try to stop the bleeding.
“I don’t know, these look kind of sexy!” laughs Clara, pulling a pink, feathery device off its holder on the wall. It looks more like a child’s toy than a sex toy. I swat her away when she reaches over and tickles my nose with it.
“Ew, gross, don’t touch me with that! Can you even imagine how many people have used that thing, putting it God knows where?” I say, revolted.
“Actually, it’s very sanitary,” says Anna, matter-of-factly. “They clean and sanitize everything after each use and replace things all the time.”
“Is there a brochure for this place or something that I missed?” I ask incredulously.
“No, I just do my research,” Anna shrugs. Who knew my friend was so kinky?
“Okay, next room! My turn to pick!” crows Clara.
We go back into the hallway, where Clara points to an open door with an image of a rope on it. “This one!”
I can see there are people already in the room. As we walk in, the girls and I aren’t giggling anymore.
A man stands in the middle of the room, wearing only jeans, facing a naked woman. She is standing against the wall, her arms tied together to a metal hook above her head. Her legs are spread, with each foot tied to a metal post on the ground. She has a black blindfold covering her eyes and black silk tied around her mouth, gagging her.
She looks calm as the man shouts at her.
“Tell me how much you want it!” he screams.
“I want it,” she replies softly.
“You’re going to have to do better than that!” he taunts. Then I notice he has a vibrator in his hand. Where did he get that? It must have come from one of the other rooms, or they brought their own. Is that something people do? Bring their own toys to the sex club?
I’m about to lean over and ask Anna, but I stop when I see what the man is doing.
He walks up to the woman and holds the vibrator against her crotch. She sighs with pleasure as the vibrations caress her most private parts. She starts to moan, but then the man abruptly pulls the toy away, and the woman gasps as if in pain.
“Not yet! You have to earn it!” he shrieks.
The girls and I stumble out of the room, unable to control ourselves. We burst out laughing, and even though it is funny, I can’t help but feel a little turned on by what I just witnessed. I don’t know what to think.
“I have to pee!” announces Clara.
“Me too!” says Anna.
“Not me,” I say.
“Well, will you hang on to our drinks then?” Anna says, and before I can protest, they both shove their glasses in my hands and run off to the bathroom.
It feels weird to be alone in this place, but I also see it as an opportunity to do a little exploring on my own.
I see a door with an image of a lightbulb and a pair of lips on it. That looks harmless enough. It’s closed, but when I nudge it to see if it’s unlocked, it swings open.
The room is completely dark, which must be what the lightbulb sign meant. I can’t see anything, but I can feel that someone else is in the room. I’m both turned on and terrified.
I feel hands on me. On my hair, specifically. I freeze in place, unsure of what to do. I smell something familiar that I can’t quite place.
Two hands run through my hair. I don’t hear anyone else moving in the room, so it must just be me and one other person. I know I should turn around and leave, but something is keeping me still.
The hands gently work their way down my hair, around my back, and start caressing up and down my spine. The owner of the hands is standing directly in front of me, facing me. He’s tall, I can tell from where his breath is coming from. It’s definitely a man; I can tell.
Before I can decide what to do, he bends down and his lips meet mine, and it’s like an eruption of fireworks in my brain.
His tongue probes my mouth gently, searching. His big hands move down my back to grab my ass and pull me closer. I can feel the hardness of an erection through his clothes. I can also feel his flat, taut stomach. I can’t see him, but I can guess that this guy is probably hot.
I give in and let go, my mouth exploring his, moaning gently as his tongue traces my lips. This is easily the sexiest kiss of my life. I am breathless, and I feel my skin tingling.
We’re grinding against each other, and I’m so distracted that I accidentally drop the drinks I was holding. Glass shatters around our feet, ruining the moment. We break apart from each other.
“Shit,” I mutter to myself. “Great, Madison, break a bunch of glass on the floor of the dark room, way to go,” I bend down and gingerly touch the floor with my fingers, trying to pick up the glass.
“Madison?” the stranger says.
Oh no. I recognize that voice.
He flicks the light on, and standing before me is…
Maddox.
5
Maddox
I should’ve known something like this would happen.
I never should have agreed to come back here. At the very least, we should have taken running into the girls as a sign and left immediately.
But now it’s too late. I’m standing here, breathing heavily, in front of the most gorgeous, untouchable girl I know, my little sister’s best friend.
Only, I guess she’s not untouchable, because I just touched her.
Shit.
And I didn’t just touch her. I held her, kissed her, tasted her.
And what a kiss it was. It was a mind-blowing kiss, easily the best I can remember ever having in my life. It just felt right, like our lips and bodies fit together perfectly.
But it wasn’t just the sensation of kissing her that felt so good. I realized while we were entangled that kissing Jasmine was never like that. The passion, the ease, the excitement… I didn’t feel any of that with my ex. I didn’t even know a kiss could feel like that.
I realize that there could be more out there for me, perhaps someone even better… Not a better woman, necessarily. I won’t disrespect Jasmine like that—she’s a hell of a girl. But someone better for me. And maybe Jasmine will find someone better for her. And maybe, just maybe, I can be okay with that. Not just okay, but better than okay.