Patty Fitzgerald decides it’s time to get back on the horse—so to speak—after three years of celibacy following her failed marriage. And what better way to do so than to be ravished by a cowboy, or two? She joined The Pleasure Club and is set for her fantasy night.
She just hopes the Pleasure Guardians got it right. When she stumbles across the rugged cattle rustlers, she’s more than willing to let them have her. The surprise though, is the sweet, shy hero who saves her and shows her a passion she’d forgotten could exist in her life.
Dear Ms. Fitzgerald,
We’re pleased to welcome you to The Pleasure Club.
As you have already signed and returned the contract and filled out all the necessary forms to ensure you receive your every wish, we will be in touch with you shortly with the details of your first Pleasure Night. Your Wish List and Pleasure Forms have been turned over to our staff of highly trained Pleasure Guardians, and they are hard at work finding your perfect match.
We will endeavor to meet your personal fantasy.
When you are contacted again, you will be given a location where your Pleasure Night will begin, and you will also be given a safe word to use should you at any time become uncomfortable. There is no shame in changing your mind. We’re here for your pleasure, and should your safe word be used, your match for the evening will cease all activity, and the game will be put on hold until a mutual agreement between you and your Pleasure Master(s) can be reached.
Once again, welcome to The Pleasure Club.
Please feel free to contact the office at any time should you have any questions.
The Pleasure Club Management
* * * * *
Your Pleasure Night will begin Friday the 8th at 8:00 PM on the grounds of Montebello Castle Winery, located at 1800 Mangrove Lane.
Park your car in the drive and follow the path on the east side of the mansion, through the garden, and into the woods beyond.
Your safe word is Cowgirl Up.
The Pleasure Guardians
* * * * *
Patty pulled her car up in front of the winery and frowned. It looked exactly like a castle, definitely not a setting out of the Old West. Had they messed up her fantasy? She would not be happy if they had. It wasn’t as if she had all the money in the world to spend on a fantasy sex club like The Pleasure Club.
She pushed open her door and stepped out into the late evening warmth. She looked down at her clothes and supposed the simple ivory summer dress would work for a medieval maiden’s underclothes, if they had stuck her fantasy in the wrong time period. Holding her purse in one hand and her keys in the other, she scowled.
“Oh, hell,” she muttered. She shouldn’t be here at all. What had she been thinking to do this?
She’d been thinking she seriously needed to get laid, and when she heard about The Pleasure Club from a friend, she’d been intrigued enough to look up their Web site.
She popped the trunk on her little sedan, dumped her purse inside, then shut the lid. She hit the lock button on the key fob before dropping the keys into the one deep pocket on her dress.
The letter had come last week, and since then she’d memorized every word, every direction. There wasn’t much to remember, really, so she did as the letter stated and headed along the path to the east side of the castle-like building. The cobbled path led through a sweet-smelling rose garden and into the woods.
Now this is a little better, she thought with a smile as the cobblestones ended and her sandals fell silent on the pine needle strewn path. The evening seemed to close in quickly as she ventured deeper into the thick forest. She could almost believe she’d just stepped out of Florida and into the Old West. Except maybe for the loud chirping of the cicadas. She wasn’t sure if they had cicadas in Arizona, since she’d never actually been there—had never been anywhere, it seemed.
God, she hoped those Pleasure Guardian people got it right. She’d had this particular fantasy for ages, and she wanted it so badly she could practically taste it.
Thank God none of the parents of her students knew what kind of twisted freak she was—at least in her own mind. If any of them knew she often lay awake at night, fantasizing about being ravished by men wearing gun belts while she used her vibrator and dildo—Yes, she used two at once, and it was no one’s business!—to bring her to screaming orgasms, they’d have her thrown out of the St. Mary’s.
Just thinking about it made her pussy clench. Men. Plural. Big, burly cowboys. Heat flooded her body and made her skin tingle. “Where are you?” she whispered as she walked deeper into the shadowy woods. “I’m ready for you, bad, bad boys. Soooo ready.”
The smooth bottom of her flat sandal slid on a stone, and she yelped in surprise and steadied herself. “Damn it.” It was getting really dark.
She stopped at a T in the path. Looking left and right, she had no idea which way to go because the paths wound off around corners within a few yards. The letter hadn’t said anything about this.
Then she heard it. A masculine voice.
Another tingle rippled down her spine, and she grinned.
A second voice, then boisterous male laughter.
She turned right and practically skipped down the path. Bad boys, here I come!