Emergence

They aren't the only ones on the brink of forming liaisons. There are smartly dressed men in deep conversations with women just as well attired, their hands entwined, inches apart. A young man with dreadlocks and a ragged t-shirt stands behind a woman who looks like she could be a librarian. He's whispering into her ear while she listens raptly, eyes closed and lips slightly parted.

There's real action in the next room, I can tell. A translucent drape separates it from the room I'm in, but there are glimpses of light and motion, and every so often the drape parts to reveal a glimpse of flesh. Surely that's where Salan would be, but I'm uncertain of the protocol. Can a newcomer such as myself just walk in, or do I need to be asked? A few of the women and couples have eyed me, but no one has made a move.

Before I decide to chance it, Salan appears, moving languidly from the back room to the front. She's even more compelling in person than in her glamour shots. Yes, she's severe, but there's an easy animal grace to her movements. Like in her photos she's wearing a tight skirt and silk blouse, but here in her own sex club the blouse is hanging open invitingly. She offers the room a contented smile which passes over me like a warm breeze.

I edge away, but I'm still close enough to catch the scene that unfolds. Salan approaches the clothed woman that I noticed earlier, the one stroking the younger man's cock. "Kendra," she purrs, "have you found one worthy of your needs?"

Kendra doesn't seem troubled by Salan's intrusion in her personal space. "I'm not sure, E. I like this one," she says, running her free hand down the man's bare chest, "but I don't know about his power." Her hand makes another skilled traversal of the man's shaft. He's a good looking young guy with careless blond hair, a defined chest, flat abs, and a smooth cock.

"I see," Salan says. She's eyeing the younger man like a piece of meat. He's leaning against the wall, shirtless and with his pants down around his knees. With closed eyes and parted lips he's obviously at the mercy of Kendra's skilled touch. "Let me help you judge."

With that Salan reaches for the man's hand and places it inside her blouse against her breast. He gasps, and a moment later shoots a glob of cum onto Kendra's hand and wrist. She sweetly works him through the rest of his orgasm, then licks the cum from her arm. "That was hot," she says to no one in particular.

"Yes," Salan agrees. She takes the man's hand from inside her blouse then kisses him. "You're a pretty boy, and you've got a nice cock, but you'll have to learn some control. Tonight," she says, "you're a discard."

I pull back further, but in doing so I bump into someone. "Sorry," I mutter.

"It's fine, really." It's a man's voice and I realize I've bumped into a fellow solo visitor.

"Thanks," I say, trying to put some distance between us, but he tugs on the hem of my shirt.

"I noticed you earlier," he says. "I'm Marco."

My stomach drops. Of the things I'll do for Ava's story, gay sex isn't among them. Not that he isn't a handsome man. He's a Latino, with dusky skin, a full head of salt and pepper hair, and strong features. I'd place him in his early fifties. "Jason," I say. It's too risky to use my real name here. I'm about to excuse myself politely, but he cuts me off.

"Do you like her?" he asks me, pointing to a woman who is standing near the partition to the other room. She's pretty, in a shy way, compact and modestly dressed.

"She's cute," I say, still looking for an escape.

"She's my wife," he says, which gets my attention.

"I see."

"Do you really just think she's cute?" he asks, "not, maybe, sexy?"

Not sure exactly where this is going, I do look again. She does have something beyond just girl next door appeal. Her mouth is soft and her eyes wide and expressive. She is conservatively dressed for a sex club, but beneath I can tell she's shapely.

"You're a lucky man," I say, still not sure why the fuck he is asking.

"Would you like to fuck her tonight?"

At first I think I didn't hear him correctly, then I remember I'm in a sex club. Of course he said that. "You really wouldn't mind?"

"No, please," he says. "She likes you, by the way. We both spotted you coming in."

My cock stirs. I'm getting into character, and the idea of fucking someone's wife on command sounds pretty hot, especially if it gets me in the back room.

"I'd love to," I admit. "But, what will you do, find someone else?"

"I'll watch," he says matter of factly, before calling his wife over. Once I get a closer look at her I can see that she's at least fifteen years younger than him, petite and soft. "Lupe, this is Jason."

The woman, Lupe, presses herself against her husband, but reaches out a hand to stroke my chest. "Hi Jason."

"Hi."

"Jason likes you," Marco says to her. "Would you like for him to make love to you tonight?"

Lupe doesn't answer right away. She strokes my chest again, but this time her hand lingers at my belt, small fingers exploring the edges of the buckle. "You can touch it," I say.

After securing a nod of approval from Marco, his wife runs her hand down the fly of my jeans, finding my cock, and exploring its outlines. "Yes," she says, almost too softly to be heard. Then she turns to face me and says with greater certainty, "I want him to make love to me."

Marco grins, kisses the top of Lupe's head, and gives her the gentlest nudge toward me. "Hurry," the man urges. "Get in there now before the chair is taken. The one you like."

Lupe gives him an urgent kiss then takes my hand. As I had hoped, she parts the curtain and leads me into the next room.

If the outer room was a lobby, the inner room is a performance hall. The music is more urgent, heavier, and sexier. And the lighting is more diverse. Mostly it's muted and inviting, but here and there a spotlight shines directly on a couch or table. Fortunately, Lupe doesn't lead me to one of those.

The deeper she takes me into the room the more places I spot which are designed for sex. There's a grand, round bed right in the center, elevated and lit by spotlights - a place for only the most confident performers. Nearby, but not so prominently positioned, are half a dozen padded benches, loveseats, and tables. Several of these are already in use. There's a couple entangled in missionary, a woman taking turns fellating two men, and a woman on her back with a man pressing his face against her slit. It must feel good because she's writhing and shouting out obscene inducements.

Along one wall there is a row of curtained alcoves, and it's to one of these that Lupe takes me. Inside is an adjustable-height chair reminiscent of a barber's shop.

"I like this one," Lupe says, running her hand across the dark upholstery. She's smiling sweetly, looking back up at me, her eyes bright. She really is quite pretty, a Latina with warm skin, unruly black hair, and curves. I want to see more, and Lupe obliges by beginning to undress. Her attire is conservative, short heels, stockings, a modest skirt, and a plain blouse. Still, the reveal is enjoyable. Her breasts are heavy, with dark nipples. They bounce as their owner wriggles out of her skirt, kicks off her shoes, and carefully pulls off her stockings. She's no longer shy, rather looking at me with undisguised hunger.

Lupe must want me to remain mostly clothed, because as soon as I reach for the hem of my shirt she stops me. "Just pull your cock out."

While I do that, struggling a bit to squeeze my near-to-bursting organ through the fly of my jeans, she hops up onto the chair. It is like a barber's chair in that I can easily adjust the height with a pedal, but there's a key feature that most barbers wouldn't need - thigh spreaders. Lupe shows me how they work, throwing one bare thigh over each side, then letting me adjust the spread until her legs are well apart, but she's still comfortable. Even in the restrained light of the alcove I can see that she's glistening and ready.

There's a little curtain which I begin to pull closed. "No," Lupe says, "Marco can watch. Anyone can watch. They can watch you fuck me."

"Okay." I adjust the height of the chair until her slit is on the level with my cock, then I push forward. Sweetness envelopes me and I push again until Lupe winces.

"You're big, Gringo."

"You're just tight." I withdraw and push more gently this time.

"No, no," she says, the trace of a Central American accent creeping into her voice. "No, you really are bigger than most guys. You must hear that all the time, fuck."

"I do. I have a secret."

"What?" she gasps as I push again.

"I'm secretly a porn star."

"Is that why you're wearing the mask?"

"That's right. I like to go incognito sometimes. Don't tell anyone."

"I won't, but you have to tell me your porn name."

"Jasperm."

Lupe laughs. "That's a terrible porn name," she says. But she's relaxing now; no longer wincing.

We fuck for a while. The standing position is novel, but I like it, and I can tell Lupe enjoys being penetrated this way. Standing leaves both of my hands unoccupied, so I'm free to fondle and squeeze her breasts, or reach down to circle her clit. She's warming up nicely.

"Marco seems like a good guy," I say, hoping this doesn't ruin the mood. "Letting you have fun like this."

"He is," she says quickly, raising her dark eyes to mine. "He knows I like things a little different sometimes, and indulges me."

"Different how?" I ask. She's plenty wet now, open to me.

"Remember I promised not to reveal your porn name, right?"

"You promised," I agree.

"So promise not to tell Marco."

"I won't." I kiss her and she kisses me back hungrily.

"Bigger," she whispers.

"Bigger like me?"

That earns another laugh. "You take some getting used to, but yeah, I like it."

She and I have a good thing going. Gradually she leans in, pressing her head against my chest as I encircle her in my arms. We're both into it, but she's more audible about the encounter. Sighs turn into exhalations, which turn into moans, then gasps.

"You're fucking me so good, Jason, so hard and so deep." I feel nails on my back.

There's movement behind us, others in the room noticing our session. I assume one is Marco, but a murmur of voices says that he isn't the only one. A minute later, when Lupe makes a particularly ecstatic vocalisation, the crowd whispers excitedly.

"You feel so good, Lupe. So warm and close against me. So sweet." I'm slowly picking up speed.

"Yes," Lupe groans. "Finish me, Jason. I'm so close now. Please take me there." Again I accelerate my thrusts.

"Oh, my." A sultry voice whispers in my ear, and when I turn I'm not surprised to see Elaine Salan. I meet her stare but don't stop pumping into Lupe.

"I know Lupe," Salan says. "She isn't here every week, but she and Marco are well known."

This is the moment, my chance to make a suitable enough impression with Salan that I might somehow gain entrance into the rest of the house. But nothing she has said seems to require a response so I keep my attention on Lupe. She's like a doll pressed against me, trembling and warm.

My silence doesn't bother Salan. "She likes to fuck, that's for sure." Her eyes are flipping between Lupe and me. "But it's a rare man who can bring her to bliss."

I'm clothed, except where I pulled my cock and balls through the fly of my jeans. Salan brushes my ass before curling her fingers forward to explore my sack. "Mmm," she says softly. Her lips are inches from my ear. "Those things are full."

"Full of cum for Lupe," I say.

"Does it have to be? For her, I mean?" The way Salan is stroking my sack I wonder if she wants me to pop sooner rather than later, but I suspect she may have other ideas.

"Well, she's the one I'm fucking," I say. "She's the one who's about to cum on my dick."

"Yes," Lupe moans. Her face is buried against my chest, her hands on my hips encouraging me.

"She's a very passionate woman," Salan says. "But, if you can hold off just a bit longer, I think you and I can have some fun of our own."

I barely have any time to consider the offer before Lupe erupts in orgasm. She's been holding me close, making small, soft gasps and moans, her body trembling. Then with no warning her nails dig into me, she throws her head back, and cries out. "Ah, aah, oh fffuck!" Her already tight kitty clamps down even tighter. Her trembling is a near convulsion.

It's all I can do not to cum with her. I'd love nothing more than to give in and pump her full of load, sharing the moment with this compact and sweet woman writhing against me. I would, but Salan has raised the possibility of a connection with her, and that's an opportunity too precious to waste. So instead I ever so slightly slacken my pace, clutch Lupe against me like a treasure, and coax her through her shattering orgasm.

If I thought we had an audience before, it has doubled. From behind us I hear mutters of 'She came so hard!', 'How long have they been fucking?', and 'That was beautiful!'

As Lupe jerks through the final moments of her orgasm, her grip on me tightens. Neither of us wants to let go of the moment so I grip her just as tightly. "You're so amazing, Lupe," I say, "so beautiful." Finally she slumps back against me, panting hard.

"Jason," she sighs.

There are hands on me now, pulling us gently apart. Marco is there, easing past me, but not without a quick smile. He embraces Lupe, brushes her hair back, and kisses her. He replaces me, wrapping his wife in his arms and cradling her as she basks in the post-fuck glow. "That was incredible, love," he says with real tenderness.

Salan has released her grip on my sack, turning me from the alcove to face the room. It seems as if everyone is looking, some at Lupe and Marco, but just as many are gawking at me. Of those, most are staring at my cock. I'm still hard enough that veins are popping along its length, and it's positively glistening with Lupe's slickness.

Among the crowd is Salan's friend Kendra, who coaxed the orgasm from the young guy earlier. She's looking at me hungrily, but Salan pulls me close. "Maybe next time, Kendra. He's mine tonight."

The crowd parts as Salan leads me toward the bed in the center of the room. In the half hour since Lupe led me past it, no one has claimed the pristine, elevated space. It's obvious what will happen next. She and I will have a session on the bed, half sex, half demonstration of Salan's alpha bitch status. If I perform well, and I'm increasingly confident that I will, it will certainly put me in her good graces, but I'll be no closer to fulfilling my spy mission for Ava.

A plan emerges. Once we're close enough I grab Salan by the waist and fling her onto the bed. She gasps in surprise, but is smiling, waiting to see what I will do next. What I do is push up her skirt, and bury my face between her legs. She's clean but musky, and shaved bare. No doubt she's already aroused from observing half a dozen scenes so I don't employ subtlety. I push her legs apart, put my tongue in her slit, and lick up.

"Yeahfuck," she gasps. Already her fingers are running through my hair, locking me in place.

Tonight I have a special status, the virile newcomer. Claiming me for her pleasure is exactly what Salan wants, and I give her a taste of victory. I move my tongue low again, lick up to her nub, circle it, then repeat.

"Yes, eat me," she says.

"It's nectar," I say, loud enough for the crowd to hear. After a few more licks I wet a finger and begin exploring her. Seconds later I can slide that finger in.

"Mmm." Salan sits up slightly. She's been wearing her silk blouse totally unbuttoned but now lets it slide from her shoulders. I get a glimpse. She's aging nicely, with a body that's still slim, with high breasts. Unlike Lupe she's tall, with legs that she's spread wide for the benefit of those watching us.

I've seen enough porn over the last several months to have an idea what good cunnilingus at least looks like. Pairing that with still fragmented memories of my past sex life, I work to give my best performance possible. As soon as my finger is in I curl it up toward her g-spot. When Salan reacts with a moan I move it in a gentle circle.

"Yes, just like that," she says, then for the benefit of the crowd adds, "he's eating my pussy so good."

I'm getting her there. I find that with a little concentration I can pump my finger and circle her clit with my tongue at the same time. She was already aroused, and now begins to move her hips.

"You're ready for something else," I say, confident that she is.

"I'm ready for that thing."

"'That thing' is ready for you." I stand, tugging off my t-shirt. I'd love to pull off my pants, too, but the spy device that Ava's hacker friends gave her is stuffed into my pocket. I'll have to fuck Salan the same way that I fucked Lupe, with my man parts hanging out of my fly.

I tug Salan toward me until her ass is just hanging over the side of the bed and her pussy is readily accessible. She gives me a wicked smile and pulls her thighs apart and back.

"Making it easy for me," I say.

"You still have to do the work," she retorts.

The scene is oddly familiar, and with a jolt I realize that fucking Salan under the lights isn't that different than the porn sets I must have performed on. I lay my cock against her slit, sliding it back and forth until it's slick from her desire. That doesn't take long, and soon I'm able to push the head in.

Salan exhales audibly. "You're thick," she says. "I don't know how Lupe did it."

"We went slow," I say, and do the same with Salan, easing myself into her gradually. She warms up faster than Lupe did though, so soon I'm moving inside of her freely.

"This is good," Salan says after a moment. "I like getting fucked like this." She's talking to me but I notice her eyes looking around every so often, checking out the crowd.

"You like being on stage."

The remark pulls her attention back to me. "On stage?"

"Yes. Here, performing while others watch."

"I do."

"You should. It's your club, right? I can tell how the others defer to you."

"Well hung and perceptive. Yes, it's my club. My home," she makes a vague gesture toward the upper floors of the row house.

"And you know you look good doing it. Getting fucked." She and I aren't really going at it hard yet. I'm sliding into her, but this is more like a warm up.

She raises an eyebrow and for a moment I think I may have overplayed my hand. Then she takes the bait. "What about you? What are you into," she asks, before adding, "other than me."

"I like fucking powerful women."

She savors this for a moment. "And you think I'm powerful?" She's wriggling against me now, signaling that she's ready to go harder.

"Multi-million dollar house, catered party with bouncers and staff, no husband in sight. You have a room upstairs with your diplomas and a pretentious, heavy desk."

She laughs. "I do."

"That's where I want to fuck you."

"We're already fucking."

"That's where I want to finish you. Bend you over that desk and go hard." I slam a thrust home to give her a preview.

There's a moment of hesitation during which she's obviously considering it. "The party's down here," by which she means her admirers.

"We've given them a show already. They've seen me fuck, they've seen you fuck. They'll know how good it was when you come walking back down the stairs with my cum dripping down your thigh."

"Shit," Salan says. Some of the earlier confidence is gone from her voice, but she's picturing it, and I swear she's already wetter. Not waiting for her to reconsider I pull out and tug her from the bed.

"Where are the stairs?"

*

Her office isn't quite as I had pictured. Instead of dark and clubby it's airy and open with a curtained wall of glass that must face the front of the house, like a converted sunroom. But the desk will do. It is in fact a pretentious extra-wide model with twin monitors on one end and a pristine workspace on the other.