From the legendary times of the Victorian Age to the rugged reaches of outer space, the romance novels have done nothing to spark Patricia’s want and hope of finding that one special man to call her own. She’s knee-deep into her thirties, near depression, and drowning her sorrows in pints of premium ice cream. When she falls for a waiter named Matt in her favorite restaurant, her insecurities do their best to thwart her plans of true love. It isn’t until she picks up one last romance novel that she realizes life cannot be lived within the ink splattered pages of an author’s fantasies. She has one chance to set her life straight and snatch the one man who gets her—mind and body. Will Patricia take it?
Be Warned: sex toys, multiple partners, spanking, light bondage, public exhibition
The Black Room was the little place Julie and I tried out after her divorce. A little kinky and a lot of fun, it catered to people preferring to remain anonymous but wanting to have an out of this world experience sexually. While I’m not the kind of girl that wanted to be tied up all the time, it had its appeal. Thus, the handcuffs in my bedroom. I hadn’t come across a man that I could trust enough to pull those bad boys out lately.
Just the type of place to get all my sexual frustrations out.
I passed through the usual check points better than I thought I would. The high class of Black Room always appealed to me. Per the code, I had chosen a satin red mask with sequined outline and draping jewel strands. The color denoted I’d go for some light bondage. I didn’t mind the occasional tied up and spanked session but the more extreme side? Not on your life.
Eyeliner coated my lids and cherry red lipstick adorned my puckered mouth. Make-up outside the club might be something I shirked with aplomb, but it was a must to gain entry. Why should I care? Tonight I would get pampered with the simple tap on the shoulder. If I didn’t get picked by a man at the end of an hour, I could choose my partner.
Within the confines of Black Room, my name was York. When I signed up, I gave the call name as a twist on my name. I thought myself clever using a candy bar as a nom de plume.
I lounged on a Victorian chair, my fuck me pumps a nice shiny red. My black dress conformed to my curves, and I felt damn sexy. Any inhibitions I had stayed in the car with the windows cracked until I finished my man meat shopping spree.
Other members chatted away as my gaze swept the room. I preferred to look disinterested, like a hard mark, than exude desperation. Whether it was the truth or not didn’t mean I wanted my hungry eyes to stray onto less than savory company. Black Room was high class, but it had its fair share of drooling troglodytes.
The room slowed to a crawl as I noticed my favorite plaything across the room. The black satin mask couldn’t hide his appearance. His mannerisms within Black Room were too familiar to me. My taut muscled specimen prowled the carpet like the carnivore I knew he could be. The apex of my thighs moistened at his presence. I remembered each wicked little escapade I had with this particular member. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he window shopped until he came across my rack. With one glance in my direction, I hooked in my bait. Already my heart slammed into my rib cage in anticipation of his electric touch.
His code name was Tall One, and he certainly fit the bill. He leaned in, and I inhaled that masculine scent uniquely his. Whatever cologne he used danced nicely with his pheromones. I was a cat in heat ready to scratch my name into his back as he rode me.
“My, York.” His words tickled my ear. “In for some adventure tonight?”
“Can you handle it?” I breathed back.
“Why don’t we find out?”
I placed my hand in his, and he led me away from the crowded room into a private one of his choosing. The lights dim, he glided me in and closed the door behind us.
Deep mahogany wood on the bedposts and luxurious red velvet hung from the peaks. A perfect centerpiece for our carnal night of pleasure. My body curled against his chest, the ache to caress his erection pulsing to my core. His fingertips glided along my shoulders. With each caress, his senses reacquainted themselves with every inch of my flesh. I groaned as his palms rubbed my nipples. They hardened instantly.
“My. Someone’s been neglecting themselves.” He tweaked my tightened areolas, and I gasped. Masturbation was second hand for me. Nothing compared to sharing a sexual experience with a partner. Especially one as interested in pleasing you as you were them. I always had that with Tall One. He’d chase all my sorrows away with one gentle stroke along my clit.
My arms reached behind to run through his hair as he lavished my breasts with attention. I ground my behind into his hardened shaft. His breathy rumble sent shivers down my spine. With one yank, he pulled the top of my dress down to expose my lacy red bra. His petting frantic, the fabric of my undergarments heightened my arousal.
“I can’t hold it, York.” His hips worked into my backside, his desire apparent in the thickened length straining against his clothing.
“I was hoping for a little play tonight.” My words were truth no matter how much my body ached to be rammed into by his cock.
The timbre in his voice echoed.
His hands grasped the bottom of my dress and yanked it up past my hips. He groaned when he realized I had gone panty-free for the evening. His palm cracked against my backside, and I yelped.
“You little tease.” Another swat landed on my bare ass. “You’re a bad girl, York.” His hand smoothed over my cheek, cooling the hotness swelling from it before he gave me another punishing whack.
“Hands on the bedpost, young lady.”
Wetness pooled down my thighs as I grasped the mahogany and velvet. The golden cord hanging down soon bound my wrists. His searing lips claimed the nape of my neck as his fingers pulled and teased my nipples. One hand ventured down to my wet core, stoking the flame already ignited. I shattered to his demanding touch.
“Come again.” His gruff voice commanded.