Club Fantasy (25 page)
Authors: Joan Elizabeth Lloyd
“I'm going to spread just a little of this on your cunt, Hillary. Can you imagine how it will feel?”
She doubted that she could get any hungrier, but she quickly found that she was wrong. The heat inside her was a flame now, threatening to consume her as he spread a bit of the oil on her sopping flesh, then stood back and smiled. “Tell me, Hillary.”
“I want, need, I don't know. I can't think of anything except my pussy. Please, fill it for me.”
“Not just yet.” He guided Diana to a spot between the legs of the frame, pushed her to her knees, and the woman quickly went to work on Jenna's cunt. Her tongue was wonderful, softer somehow, seeming to know exactly where Jenna needed it. She licked the length of her slit, then pushed the tip of her tongue into her. Diana actually fucked her with her tongue.
“Look up, Hillary,” Rock said and she opened her eyes. The mirrored ceiling reflected the brown hair of the woman whose mouth was working so hard between her legs. She could also see the rapt attention the two other men paid to the scene being played out for their delight. As Jenna watched, Diana reached up and pulled at her nipples, her mouth not stopping its ministrations.
For what seemed like forever, Diana kept sucking and soon her fingers joined, filling Jenna's passage and rubbing her clit. She wanted to hold back, prolong the intensely erotic moments, but she couldn't. Screaming, she came, colors soaring, spearing, flashing in all directions. Orange and electric blue swirled through her brain. Over and over she felt the spasms clench deep in her belly. With Diana's mouth on her, she felt like she could keep climaxing indefinitely.
Rock pulled the woman from her and tipped the frame so that Jenna's head was level with Diana's crotch. “She's in just as much need as you are, Hillary,” Rock said. “Help her.”
Jenna buried her mouth in Diana's crotch and licked. Since she'd never done anything like this before, she just thought about what she liked and did the same. From the woman's moaning she realized that she must be doing something right.
“Shit,” one of the men said, “that's quite a sight.” She couldn't see the mirrored ceiling, but she heard rustling, and then a mouth was on each breast as her tongue found Diana's erotic places.
“The oil is wonderful on the cock,” Rock said. “It increases the size and hardness of the erection. I've tried it myself several times.”
From the sounds, she imagined everyone stripping, then Rock painting the oil on the two men's eager cocks. “Since you can't fuck Hillary's pussy without a condom, how about this way.” Jenna felt a cock in each hand and, as she sucked on Diana's clit, she used her fingers to spread the oil, and then called on all her skill to give the two men the best hand jobs she could.
The room reeked of sex. Grunts, growls, and moans filled her ears as she allowed the intense pleasure to overwhelm her. Eventually, everyone left her alone. As she watched in the ceiling, Diana got on her hands and knees, lowing herself onto Paul's rigid shaft while Wayne fucked her from behind.
“I told them that I wanted the pleasure of bringing you your ultimate orgasm. Jenna,” Rock whispered. Calling her by her right name increased the intimacy as he removed his clothing, adjusted the frame so that her pussy was at the right height for his staff, then, with a condom in place, rammed his cock home, holding her thighs tightly as he thrust deeply.
When he was lodged fully within her, Rock lay full length on top of her as he thrust, stretching his arms over hers, his face filling her vision. As he began slow strokes, she came one last time. Her orgasm seemed bigger than anything she'd ever experienced, but whether it was the erotic aura or the oil, she neither knew nor cared. Rock came soon after.
When he was done, Rock used a warm, wet cloth to wash the oil, juices, and sweat from her drenched body.
“That oil is quite something,” she said to Rock later, after everyone else was gone.
“I'm glad it worked out this way,” he said. “I had something different in mind but since Diana came along ...”
“It was wonderful. I wasn't sure why I was so hot but I guess I didn't care. It was a powerful experience. I only hope I can give some of that to my clients.”
“I'm sure you can, and do. Sex is really a lot of fun, isn't it?” Rock said, grinning.
“It certainly is.”
Later she thought about her relationship with Rock. She ought to be confused. She had very special feelings for Glen but couldn't have a relationship with him because of what she was, and she cared for Rock but it was all friendship and lust. How she knew the differences she wasn't sure, but she knew.
Chapter
15
15
M
arcy saw it all, felt it all that night. Faces, men with huge erections, hands on bare breasts and penises. A woman with her mouth doing unspeakable thingsâthings that felt exciting, arousing, but were so wrong. She was struggling, trying to get up but she couldn't. Her wrists and ankles were bound. She tried to scream but no sound escaped. She was being violated and there was nothing she could do about it. Through it all, the same face she'd seen before filled her mind. Bald, dark, with a diamond in his ear.
arcy saw it all, felt it all that night. Faces, men with huge erections, hands on bare breasts and penises. A woman with her mouth doing unspeakable thingsâthings that felt exciting, arousing, but were so wrong. She was struggling, trying to get up but she couldn't. Her wrists and ankles were bound. She tried to scream but no sound escaped. She was being violated and there was nothing she could do about it. Through it all, the same face she'd seen before filled her mind. Bald, dark, with a diamond in his ear.
She sat bolt upright, panting, sweat pouring from her body. She was both terrified and aroused. It was a dream, she told herself, it was a dream. But it felt very real, so real that she couldn't slow her heartbeat or breathing. So real. She looked at the clock. It was almost 3:00
A.M.
She needed to call Jenna. Maybe she was in trouble. Maybe this was that twin thing they had always kidded about but couldn't deny, either. She had to call her sister. She reached for the phone, but then let her hand drop. This was silly. Jenna was home, asleep. It was just a nightmare.
A.M.
She needed to call Jenna. Maybe she was in trouble. Maybe this was that twin thing they had always kidded about but couldn't deny, either. She had to call her sister. She reached for the phone, but then let her hand drop. This was silly. Jenna was home, asleep. It was just a nightmare.
She rubbed her thigh where the woman's hands had touched her, then looked down, almost surprised to see the same white, flabby flesh. She threaded her fingers through her hair, then lay back down, knowing she wouldn't get back to sleep.
At seven in the morning, she dressed and made herself a pot of coffee. When she couldn't wait any longer, she pressed the quick-dial button to call Jenna. “We're sorry, the subscriber you've called does not answer. Please try your call again later.”
Damn. She's turned the phone off or she's in a dead spot. Maybe she'd let the batteries drain as she often did. It's nothing to worry about. Marcy paced the floor of the kitchen, staring out at the snow falling on the yard, then tried Jenna again. She couldn't shake the dream and the belief that Jenna was in some kind of trouble. “We're sorryâ” She pressed âend.' By eight-thirty, she was dressed for work, but then she reconsidered and called in sick. She was getting more frantic by the moment, all the time telling herself she was being silly. Silly or not, she couldn't shake the fears or the dream.
By nine, she had tried Jenna's number a dozen times with the same results. “Okay,” she told herself. “I'm obsessing. This is ridiculous. Jenna's fine.” With those thoughts in mind, she changed into warmer clothes, climbed into her car, and headed for Manhattan.
Six hours and several dozen, useless, phone attempts later, she parked in a garage on East Fifty-second Street and walked through an inch of slush to the brownstone. The man who opened the door was huge, tall and muscular, with a completely shaved head, striking blue eyes and an eerily familiar diamond stud in his left ear. He was dressed all in black, but then she somehow knew he would be. Although she had never met him, she knew him. She'd seen him often in her dreams. “May I help you?” he asked.
“I'm looking for Jenna. Jenna Bryant.” When he seemed about to close the door in her face, she added, “Please. I'm Marcy. Marcy Bryant.”
The smile on his face changed him from a menacing figure to a ... Well, now he was a smiling menace. “Yes, of course.
Now I see it,” he said. “You're her twin sister.” He held out his hand. “I'm Rock. I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you.” Ushering her inside, he took her coat and hung it in the closet.
The house looked the same as it had when she'd visited over Labor Day weekend, but who was this giant? “Is she here?”
“I'm sorry, she won't be in for at least an hour. Is there something I can do?”
“Where is she?”
Looking suddenly wary, Rock said, “Maybe I ought to let her explain that.”
“Explain what? I don't understand.” He seemed so at home in Jenna and Chloe's house. “Are you visiting?” she asked.
He seemed puzzled. “I live here.”
Now Marcy was completely confused. “I thought my sister lived here.”
The doorbell rang and Rock moved to answer it. He admitted a tall, good-looking man with carefully blow-dried, totally white hair. The man looked her over. Marcy was wearing her standard outfit, an oversized, black sweatshirt with a black turtleneck shirt beneath, and matching sweat pants. “I guess I'm a little early,” the man said. “You're not dressed.”
“Me?”
“No, Mr. Phillips,” Rock said gently, “she's not your partner this evening. Melissa is waiting for you upstairs in the living room.”
“Oh.” Mr. Phillips looked Marcy over again. “I'm sorry. I like women with meat on their bones,” he said. “If you're free next time I come, miss, I'd love to have you.”
Marcy was so puzzled that she kept silent as Rock showed Mr. Phillips up the stairs. When Rock returned, he said, “I'm sorry for the interruption. If you'd like to wait in the living room, I'm sure Jenna will be here within an hour. She's got someone at six.”
“Got someone?”
“I think I've said more than enough,” Rock said, his cheeks coloring slightly. “Maybe you should wait for her.”
While she waited, a lovely looking woman arrived, kissed Rock on both cheeks, and disappeared up the stairs, followed only a few minutes later by a rumpled man in a leather coat and jeans. “She's in the motel room,” he told the man.
It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what must be going on. Her dream. The men and women coming and going. This was a whorehouse, and Jenna must be part of it. Another couple arrived, and Rock guided them to something called a Western room. Marcy seethed. Her sister was a whore. There couldn't be any other answer. But it couldn't be. She knew her sister and she wouldn't do a thing like that. There must be something she was overlooking. This can't be what it seems. Maybe it's something Chloe's doing and Jenna had to move out because of it. Yeah, that must be it. But why didn't Jenna tell her about it? And what about the man called Rock who'd disappeared up the stairs?
She stood, paced, then sat back down. She fiddled with her purse, then went to the tiny bathroom in the hall. She didn't dare go anywhere else in the building. Who knew what was going on? Finally, about three quarters of an hour after she arrived, Marcy heard a key in the front door. Wondering where she should be when Jenna walked in, she stood, then sat, then stood again and walked toward the door. If she hadn't been so upset she would have been amused at the shocked expression on Jenna's face as she walked in.
“Marcy,” Jenna said, dropping her pocketbook on the floor and splaying her hand over her chest. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here?”
Marcy rushed forward and hugged her sister, then held her at arms length and stared at her from head to foot. She wasn't hurt, although she'd been assaulted the previous evening. Or had she? “I scared
you?
I was terrified. You're all right.”
you?
I was terrified. You're all right.”
“Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be?”
“I thought you'd been hurt, then I tried to call over and over and I couldn't reach you.”
“Shit. I'm sorry. I must have left my phone here, turned off.”
Marcy stalked into the living room, then back to the entrance way. “I drove all day, terrified that something had happened to you.” She couldn't decide what made her angrier, the fact that Jenna was okay or that she'd been so frightened by her dream.
“What's gotten into you, Sis?” Jenna said, looking mystified. “We've been out of touch before and it's never freaked you out like this. If you'd just given it time, you'd have reached me. You know I misplace my phone now and then. And if you had left a message, I'd have called you back.”
Through gritted teeth she hissed, “What had me freaked out, as you put it, is that I had one of those twin things we have occasionally, in the middle of the night last night. There was a woman with you, then you were being assaulted by a man who looked exactly like that bodybuilder type who says he lives here.” By the time she reached the end of the sentence she was almost shrieking.
Jenna leaned back against the front door and Marcy watched her body deflate. “You met Rock?” she said softly.
After a deep breath, Marcy answered, her voice deceptively soft, “I met Rock. I also met a man named Phillips who said that if I was free the next time he came, he'd like toâhow did he put itâhave me. What the hell is going on?”
Jenna recovered her equilibrium enough to usher Marcy into the kitchen. In silence, Marcy sat down while Jenna put coffee on to brew. “If you're trying to figure out how to answer that question,” Marcy said, as Jenna settled opposite her, “let me say that the truth would be refreshing.” There was an acid tone to her voice that matched the taste of bile rising in her throat.
Jenna hung her head, then, as if she'd made up her mind about something, straightened up. “Marcy, I've wanted to tell you all about this for a long time but I was afraid of your reaction. I can see that keeping secrets was worse. We call this place Club Fantasy and I haven't lived her for a few months.”
Club Fantasy? She stared at her sister, a woman she suddenly didn't know.
Jenna looked her straight in the eyes. “Men come to us to fulfill fantasies and we do a damned good job of it. Men who have nowhere else to go to live out things they've dreamed of all their lives come here and enjoy. We get well paid for it and both Chloe and I love what we're doing.”
“You're a prostitute?” She wanted to say whore but that word sounded so disgusting. Prostitute sounded a bit less like some hooker hanging out on a street corner with a needle in her arm.
“I'm a woman who has sex with men for money,” Jenna said softly.
Marcy stood and paced the length of the kitchen, unable to think clearly. This was her sister, her twin, a woman she'd been closer to than anyone, including their parents. This was a stranger. Her heart pounded and she couldn't catch her breath. She couldn't decide what name to put on what she was feeling. Disappointment? Embarrassment? No, too mild. Shock? Repugnance? Yes, and revulsion. “I don't even know you.”
“I'm the same person who was bored in Seneca Falls and needed something new in my life.”
“But, Jenna. My God. What's come over you?”
“I'm sorry you had to find out this way, Sis, but frankly, I'm not doing anything I'm ashamed of. You know that I love you and I want you to understand.” She glanced at the clock on the front of the microwave. “I have a client in about fifteen minutes and I need to get ready.” She rummaged around in the bottom of her purse. “Here's a spare key to my current apartment.” She scrawled the address on a piece of paper. “Please. For me. Go over there and think about everything. Try to react with your brain, not with your heart. If we're going to part company let's do it after you have some time. Don't go back to Seneca Falls before we talk again. Please.” Jenna stood and hugged her sister. “I'll be there around midnight.”
Marcy put the key on the table. “I don't think so.”
“Marcy, it can't end like this. Please.” Before her sister had time to turn away, Jenna bent down and kissed her cheek. “I love you, Sis, and we have to talk but I can't continue this right now. I have an obligation to people who've paid a great deal of money and have expectations that I have to fulfill.” With a heavy sigh, Jenna walked out through the kitchen door.
After Jenna left, Marcy sat at the kitchen table for a long time, playing and replaying their conversation. Jenna had treated it all like some kind of public service and it wasn't. Okay, so what was it? She tried to concentrate on the evils but she kept coming back to the rationality of all of Jenna's arguments. Her head spun.
At about nine, Rock walked in. “I see you're still here,” he said gently.
Marcy stood and picked up her purse. “I was just leaving.”
“Don't judge her too harshly, Marcy. She's a wonderful woman and it would be a shame for you two to go your separate ways without talking it all out.”
“She told you?”
“Only the rudiments. She's devastated.”
“I'm sure,” she said, unable to hide her bitterness. Marcy glared at the huge man who she'd never seen before outside of her dreams. “And what the hell are you, a male prostitute?”
“Yes,” he said softly, “and I'm very good at what I do.”
Marcy could only gasp. A male hooker? It went against everything she'd ever considered. Women didn't need sex the way a man did, so why should they go to someone like him? What was more deeply embarrassing was that she'd been attracted to him in her dreams. It was disgusting. She didn't understand any of it.
“Talk to her. Try to cut her a little slack.” Rock poured himself a cup of coffee and left without another word.
Marcy picked up the key Jenna had left on the table. Rock was right about one thing. They did need to talk.
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