Book Club

She took a drink and something clicked in her mind reminding her of what gave her the best experience tonight. Wendi took another draw of the wine and, as she did, she drew the aroma of leather and pipe tobacco into her lungs.

Warmth filled her from head to toe as she cast her glance about approvingly. Gemma was happily working down another glass, as was Carey, who was now quite relaxed in her seat and seemed to have resolved her hesitancy when it came to drinking. For her part, Lynne was literally putting together a makeshift sangria, dropping pieces of fruit into the glass and letting them soak a bit before drinking while she leaned into the music. And Trina? Trina just seemed to be having a good time watching everyone else have a good time.

Gemma held the glass over her lap, suddenly remembering why they were all here. "You were right though, Trina. "All it took to melt poor Krysten was cash, cock and a healthy dose of domination."

"It was a fun fall though, no? From first to the last." She took the book and turned to one of one of the first marked pages, "In the most expensive restaurant in the city, I found myself a slave to propriety. I saw myself getting up, slapping his face hard enough to crack the air like thunder, telling him that my autonomy, much less decency meant that what he was doing wasn't going to go on for one more second."

"But all I could do was sit there in a flood of shame that fed the heat in a vicious circle that paralyzed me ever more the longer I sat there, while the people around me who had more money than many small countries drank their fine wine and scooped morsels of caviar onto mother of pearl spoons, oblivious to anything but their own wants and needs. The longer I sat there, the more I was just one of his wants and needs, but I was still unable to move."

"Nice," Gemma said. "What girl couldn't use a good finger-bang in the middle of a nice restaurant?"

Trina chuckled, "Anything you want to confess?"

"I have never gotten finger-banged in a restaurant," Gemma protested.

The tone left everyone hanging and Trina just waited patiently.

There wasn't a lot of embarrassment in it, mainly because the wine was beginning to make itself known and stripped a good share of it away. "I'd been pretty wound up all day and the first free few minutes I had was in the ladies room at Magnifique. She looked around at the reaction and heard Wendi snort. "Trashy lush."

"It's a very nice ladies room."

Wendi's brow went up and back quickly and she inhaled with another drink silently as if to concede the point. "Still trashy."

"Was still a thrill though."

"'My wet cleft, having a will of its own, opened to his hand while all I could really do was let the experience take me where it would.' Something like that?" Trina nudged.

"Something like that," Gemma answered, vividly remembering the intensity of that evening, the lewdness that came with being spread in a bathroom stall, her ankles on the braces on either side of the stall. She remembered how her thighs shook and her ankles drew up and down the cool metal of their own accord while she continued to maul that pink button and that bit of flesh welcomed the filthy touches that it needed all day that day. The more she let herself think about it, the more needy that flesh felt in the now.

Her thighs came together tightly. "But that was just the opener, Gemma said.

"That was fun, and it was fun as the opener, but the better scene was right after they left. I mean, she just sat there, wondering what kind of person that she was for allowing it and letting him diddle her senseless, then she's trying to figure out whether she liked it or not, or whether she should have liked it or not as he leads her out the door and right into the limo."

"Fuckmobile," Wendi corrected with a laugh, her eyes alight as she took another deep breath and enjoyed the warmth of the hug that she got in return.

Lynne jumped in. "That's part of what made that scene good to me. The conflict. Should I or shouldn't I? I want to because it feels so good, but it shouldn't feel so good. What kind of person am I that it feels so good that part of me doesn't want to assert myself because then the feeling might end."

She sucked one of the grapes from the wine and let it burst between her teeth, following it with a drink, not sure how exactly one was enhancing the other but it was lovely. Each bite was adding to a pleasing fullness in her belly and that fullness was a weight helping to keep her seated and in the moment. "Those mousy protestations that, 'I should go home.'"

"I can't believe I let you do that. I shouldn't have let you do that." Wendi added.

"Because if she goes home, she might get some self-control back," Trina said out loud. "She doesn't want it back. She's never been that heated in her entire fucking life and she wants to see where it goes. She could ask to go home and he'd take her home, but she's in that backseat, the hum of the motor and the small bumps on the city street. The cool between her legs when the air hits that heated pussy."

"Those fingers trying to keep her distracted."

The scent of her filling the space. Him filling the space.

Trina took form the book, "Filling the space like he was the universe and she was one of those insignificant pinpricks of light within that sphere of everything."

"She wanted to go home, but that pussy didn't, and that pussy won, just like It won in the restaurant. He pulled those panties off and she let him as much as she could let him. Krysten lifted that ass but he was the one that took them off."

"Then it was head down, ass up and that monster, rich, white cock 'plowing through her shame and uncertainty until all that was left was lust.'"

"Did you memorize that book, Trina?" Gemma's tone was rife with humorous judgment.

"Only some of the fun parts. Like him just pounding the shit out of her pussy and 'now mostly responsible for the rocking of the vehicle, his body pounding into hers.'"

Lynne added to it according to what moved her, "Then she spends four or five pages in the battle between ID, ego, and super-ego. ID being her pussy, super-ego trying to find a path forward to make her stop herself from being a...meat puppet." She just couldn't think of a more enlightened phrase that was more appropriate. Still, it made her smile. It was a hot, sweet thought that was nice to think. All her thoughts had a sweetness to them now...a lightness that implied that they might just float away if she thought about them too much, so she decided to let herself not think too much. "Impaled on his cock."

Trina delved more deeply "If you want to get meta about it, read that through again. Honestly, I think the ID was his. It was his instinct supplanting her ego and super-ego. He was pounding himself into her and the more he did, the weaker she sounded, and the weaker she sounded, the harder he fucked."

"They were sup--sup....feeding each others'," Gemma said. "Right down to the essence, her welcoming his cock, leg braced against the floor so he gets maximum leverage over her. His need to fuck and her need to be fucked ends up being all there is. I like...how they were so worn down at the end they weren't even talking. They couldn't talk. All it was was his grunts and her mewls and sighs."

"Pure essence," Trina said, her tone now having a sultry lilt to it, "Fucking and fucked. And afterwards...the shame...she has so much shame she up and quits then runs away. But neither one of them can get it out of their heads. That one fuck eating away at them, corrupting them. He wants more and she loved it, but she hates herself that she loved it so much. So handsome and magnetic, and it's all fun and games getting the job and being around that power and magnetism and money but..."

Wendi chimed in, "The find out part is always the hardest."

"Is it really that bad in her case?" Gemma asked. "It's sort of a compliment. The sex is so good the richest man in the world has to come find you and get some more because 'You're so unlike anyone I've ever known.'"

"Weren't you the one all wound up about tropes a while ago?"

"What? Nah, that wasn't me."

"I could have sworn that was you."

In the pause, Gemma's eyes widened because it was in that moment that she actually remembered saying it, and the quick, sudden rush of embarrassment made her recoil even as she tingled all over feeling it. "Nope, must've been someone else."

"Okay."

"He chases her down, and she's all freaked because stalking and all that, and she tells him to get lost."

"But he won't. He can't," Trina adds with dramatic flair. "'You inhabit my every waking hour and going around the office and not seeing you there leaves me hollow.'"

Wendi dropped in again. "She's the one that's hollow." Wendi said, leaving the obvious meaning to linger, "All confused. Tells him to go away, but she doesn't try to leave herself."

"She didn't tell him to leave."

"Sure, she did."

"No she didn't" Trina spoke with conviction her eyes alight. "She lists all the reasons it's a bad idea. She babbles out all the reasons that they shouldn't be together. She talks about losing herself and that's what her real problem is, but she never tells him to get the fuck out and don't come back."

Wendi considered it. It was hard to remember either way, so she picked up her copy the book. The words were double and the ones that weren't jumped around the page. She blinked hard twice, squinted twice more. "Yeah, okay, the wine was really good, so I'll take your word for it. It was all just a dance for them to fuck in a dive motel in her hometown."

"It was either that or in her parents' house."

Laughter filled the room at that before Wendi took the deepest breath and sighed it out. They couldn't even fuck in his car again. Or hers."

"Why repeat the same scene?" Carey said dreamily. "They're both going down into the depths, what better place to do it than some nasty cash-only motel where people come to stay off the radar so they can fuck around on their others. Besides, it just makes everything more....raw, more animal; fucking where no decent person would fuck."

"And it illustrates another step in the decent of both of them," Trina purred. "Hell, you can argue the environment helped pull them down. They look around and wonder, 'Who needs to be civil in a place like this?" she asked, letting the question linger meeting Carey's gaze, "Who needs to be proper in a place like this?" Trina replied to the sight of Carey's hard swallow with a crooked, slightly wicked smile before she returned her gaze to the others.

"And to think it was just one little thing that got everything to start spiraling out of control. I mean, seriously, how many times has a guy held your hands behind your back or something? He pins her wrists over her head against the wall while he nibbles her neck and that one small action leads to that shuddering response where she's practically melting against him and their eyes meet...Krysten and her little doe eyes and her hot body melted next to his, daring him to just take it, then telling him to just take it."

"I want you," he says, and she's thinking of it and her head shakes, but it's just too much thinking and too much feeling so she whispers, "Then take what you want." Trina snorted. "What the fuck happened to everything but her ID then?"

"She wants to think about it later," Lynne replied, "wants to shame spiral about it later."

"She wants to play, 'come here, go away,' like so many of the dumb bitches in these books do, Wendi spat, having found the trope that she disdained. "Stalk me and it's scary, but it's hot right this minute, so fuck me and then leave because I shouldn't be doing this to begin with."

Trina looked her in the eye, smiled sweetly and gave her a long raspberry in response. Wendi turned when Lynne got in on the auditory fruit-throwing at the very end. "Who asked you?"

Her smirk made Lynne stop and giggle girlishly in return.

"Relax. It's a book. It's fiction. People can do whatever dumb shit they want in fiction and it works out fine because fiction. Aside from that, lots of girls do dumb shit in real life when you know that guy absolutely knows how to make your toes curl and eyes roll back in your head."

Trina snapped her fingers, bringing the attention of all back onto her. "So he just fucking takes. Kissing madly, them drooling all over each other, then she's on her knees, last of her brain fighting with the last of her instinct, Oh, no, no, I can't go down on my knees to suck your cock here. This place is dirty and I'm a nice girl, but a pinch of the nose that she just tolerates and in her mouth it goes."

"He fucks in that that rhythmic in and out....even the sounds it makes in her mouth can be counted on. His moans. His grunts. His hand on the back of her head to keep it where it is as much as to guide it. It makes her feel safe in the rhythm. Remember how Krysten thought about it. She knew what it was all doing to her even if he intended it or not. She knew it was all working together to pacify her. Remember how she surrendered to being a little suck machine. Cock in and out...keep it wet and make it wetter. Suck hard on it on the way out because that it makes and the sound he makes. Rhythm. Certainty."

"But that wasn't enough, was it?" Trina's tone was as it would be if she were telling a scary story around the campfire. "Open your eyes, Krysten. I want to see. Look at me. I want to see you look at me."

"And she doesn't. She doesn't want to be humiliated."

"Krysten. Come on Kristen. Look at me."

"Nothing. Because she doesn't want to feel degraded. She can just stay in her happy...rhythmic space."

He wants to see those wide eyes because he wants to know that she's not daydreaming about sucking off some other rich guy in a seedy motel. He wants to know that she's there. So maybe Kristy's there. That name that everybody teased her with. That bimbo nickname that followed her around for years because 'Krysten' with blonde hair and nice tits, so she gets the ditz nickname that she always hated."

"So, like he was commanding some serf that works for him, "Look at me, Kristy."

"Then her eyes open. Maybe at that point, it really is more 'Kristy' than Krysten because she opens her eyes and it's her worst fear. She likes it. She likes the degradation of being forced to look up into the eyes of the man that she's sucking in some motel...doing something that Krysten would hate. She looks into his fierce eyes and she could stop. She knows it. They both do. She knows that she should stop and restore some of her fucking dignity."

"Krysten would stop."

"Kristy wouldn't."

"And that little slurp machine just keeps her eyes on his and remembers to suck hard on the backstroke. He holds her and he rocks."

"He holds her and he rocks."

"Rich man knows he could drain into that machine on its knees and the receptacle would take it, but it wasn't going to be enough for the kind of man he was feeling like then. What was behind her eyes then, he had to explore fully and completely...take fully and completely but his clothes...everywhere they touched were like ants crawling all over his skin."

A tiny squeak shattered the moment like a shotgun blast, bringing them all back to the room and out of the haze that Trina, as storyteller had created. They all turned to see Carey with her right hand buried beneath her sweats, her hand making the gray fabric pulse like the beating of a heart. There were more happy peeps from her until she blinked rapidly, her hand freezing under her pants.

Carey seemed untroubled at first, then a switch flipped behind her eyes and she realized that the women that surrounded her weren't part of the dream. They weren't part of the dream. They were real.

She knew them.

They were staring at her.

A chill ran through her body, except for her hand. Her hand was warm.

It was in her pants.

She pulled it from under them with the speed of a lightning and she wanted to die. Or be swallowed by a singularity, abducted by aliens, or pretty much anything that would make her disappear from here. "Sorry. Shit. I'm so sorry. I just got all caught up in thinking about the book and you talking about the book, and...and...I don't know what came over me."

Her words cane slowly, even though part of her felt like she was speed-talking like Lynne, like she wanted to be in one gear, but her body wasn't quite in the mood to cooperate with her. "I should go." Moving her head quickly to one side, looking for the door caused the room to somersault, but not enough to entirely distracting her from needing to find the door.

The girls snickered and tittered over the sight and the sight of her embarrassment. "Sometimes you just gotta flick that bean, huh?" Wendi poked.

"Been a while, has it?" Gemma wondered.

"It's a normal response," Lynne said, coming to her defense.

"I wasn't dragging her, really." Gemma said. "I copped to being classless." Another glass finished found its way to the table, and, this time, it ended up on its side and it nearly rolled off the table before she flicked it back, not bothering to set it upright again. "At least this place has more class than a ladies room, even if it's a nice ladies room." She cocked a brow and snickered at her own joke, "But, depending on how overheated you get when you're worked up, it might be a good thing all the candles are going. Some girls fill the room when they're worked up."

That was more than enough shame to drive her from the couch, albeit more slowly than she would have liked. "I'm gonna go. It was... It was nice meeting all of you. I'm so sorry." She turned to take uncertain steps towards the door she entered before she felt the gentle and firm hands of Trina turning Carey to face her, doing so slowly, as though aware of how unbalanced the other felt.

Trina's entire demeanor was gentle and comforting. Her smile was warm and her eyes were captivating pools of understanding. "It's okay, Carey. Honest. It's okay. Relax. Relax. You don't have to leave. You don't want to leave. It's fine. It's fine. Breathe, honey. Relax."

Carey took a deep breath until her chest could burst and let it back out. As she let that breath go, she realized that Trina wasn't angry at her. None of them were. They just teased her a little and it was perfectly understandable given the circumstances. It was fine. No one wanted her to leave and, as she tried to think about it, she didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay, so she let Trina ease her back to the couch.

"It's no big deal," Trina said, taking the nearest glass and the beginnings of a third bottle of wine, filling her glass with it. It's just a bunch of girls hanging out and talking about a sexy novel. Most of us have had too much wine and we're talking sex and it'd be weird if fingers didn't maybe start wandering. Most of us have had too much wine. You, on the other hand," she said with a coy grin, "have to catch up. Drink this."

Carey put a still unsteady hand on it and balanced it against her lips as Trina's forefinger tipped the mouth towards her. "Chug, chug, chug." It didn't take long for the other young women to rally to the age old call of the college student. They chanted and Carey drank. She chugged so hard that, if the glass hadn't been empty, she would have had to stop anyway in order to breathe.

She took in air to drive the spots out of her vision as the celebratory cheers filled her ears and gave her a sense of pride. Carey lifted her head and gave Trina the same happy, prideful look that young Carey would give her mother when she downed all her medicine.

"Good job," Trina said in that same gently, matronly tone from before. Before pulling away and out of the sight of the others, her tongue dragged itself quickly over Carey's hand, still wet from her own juices. Carey let out another adorable little squeak and it held Trina in place with the sudden desire to linger and stare into those eyes until dawn. They were beautiful before, but irresistible now. The light behind them was already so dim, and the smile so vacant. Trina suspected that if she kissed her right now there would be about ten or fifteen seconds of confused squirming and then she would happily surrender to her fate.