Let's Make a Scene Ch. 01

We arrive and make our way past security. I immediately start looking for my hookup for the night after ordering a drink. I get a few guys at the bar who use cheesy pickup lines. They are cute, but not what I'm looking for. I turn them down gently and they back off without a fuss. I sigh as I watch Garret and David dancing.

I think I want something like that. Not monogamy with a capital M, just someone...

Garret says I'm too picky and maybe I am. But, I crave more than just vanilla sex. I like it raw, passionate... rough at times. I need a firm hand to hold me down when I'm being bad.

A while back, I went to a kink club. Once. But, I never went back after my mom died. My emotions felt too exposed and vulnerable to be able to handle it. By the time I was feeling somewhat normal again, I'd lost the courage.

I made this checklist awhile ago that if a guy checked off two thirds of, I would be more than happy to take them home with me. So far, no one has even checked off one fourth of my list-

The top of the list is skin-deep. Yes, I'm shallow. It's hard not to be when you live in LA.

I'm not looking for perfection. A scar or slightly crooked nose builds character. He needs to be at least a few inches taller than me. Slim build, flat stomach. Six pack is optional, but I want him to have some muscle definition.

The last few drops of my drink slide down my throat. As I lower my glass, I spot a man walking up to the bar.

He's wearing a gray dress shirt and tight jeans that leave little to the imagination.

-Fit as fuck: Check!-

His hair is short and brown at first glance, but I can see hints of auburn where the light hits it. He's got thick, black horn-rimmed glasses on that make him look a little older than he is. But, I'd say he is pushing 40-

Age has never been a problem for me. He looks like he takes care of himself. And he's giving Daddy.

I strain to hear his drink order over the music: -

"Vodka soda with lime and ice."

-Doesn't drink weird cocktails: Check!-

That voice sounds kind of familiar... A British accent, paired with a rich voice and a body like that? I lick my lips as I whisper under my breath, "Fuck me."-

He glances up and stares right at me. Shit, did he hear that? His eyes slowly wander up and down my body then back to my eyes. His grin is cocky.

-Sexy smile: Check!-

There is something about the way he is looking at me that makes me feel like he knows me.

Obviously, he likes what he sees. I'm wearing blue jeans and a brick-red t-shirt. I take care of myself, eat well and indulge rarely. I have a personal gym at my apartment that I use regularly.

Goddamn. There is this invisible string between us, connected at our dicks, pulling me in. I feel like I've seen him somewhere...

I run my fingers through my dark blonde hair. I want to look good for him. I want to be good for him-

As he makes his way over towards me, I peek over to see Garret dancing with... no, grinding, on David. When I look back, Mr. Magic Dick is standing in front of me-

I have to look up slightly to meet his eyes. If I had to guess, I'd say he's 6'2" or 6'3".

-Height: Check!-

I love it when a man is taller than me. It makes me feel safe; or at their mercy if the mood calls for that.

"May I buy you a drink?"

He most definitely has a British accent. That wasn't on the checklist, but maybe it should be...

-Sexy accent/voice: Check!-

I feel bold. My fingertip dips into his drink then I suck it into my mouth. "I'll have one of those, but no lime or ice... please."

His blue eyes stay fixed on my lips for at least twenty seconds before he turns to the bartender to order my drink.

-Manners: Check!-

Once that's done, his eyes bore right through me. "What's your name?"

I lick my lips, tasting the remnants of his drink. "Nate."

He tilts his head. "Short for Nathaniel?"

I laugh for no reason other than to release some pent-up energy. Small talk is so mundane, but it is a necessary part of socializing I suppose-

I answer, "Yes, well, Nathan... What's your name?"

The bartender hands him my drink and he leans in close as he presents it to me. His eyes turn a dark bluish gray, like a storm. "Does that matter?"

That was a little mysterious. I guess it would be a red flag under normal circumstances, but there is something about him that makes me trust him. I take a long pull from my drink, feeling the liquid burn down my throat-

A little of the liquid goes down the wrong pipe, when I notice him watching me swallow. I clear my throat and croak out, "Have we met before?"

He grins and whispers in my ear. "Shall I help you remember?"

My cock throbs as a rush of blood pools in my crotch and my mouth waters. I swallow and breathe deeply through my nose. "Yes..."

He takes off his glasses and leans in closer. I stare at his face for a few seconds and gasp dramatically, opening my eyes wide. "Superman?"

I can tell he is trying not to laugh. He slips his glasses back on. "You think you're cute don't you?"

I beam at him. "I think you think I'm cute."

The music changes and I recognize the song. I grab his hand. "Let's dance."

He follows me without protest. I throw my arms around his neck and press my body up against his. His eyes lock onto mine and I can't look anywhere else. Hands slide from my back down to my waist and pull me tighter against him-

I feel his thigh slip between my legs and I gasp as he starts to thrust. He places both hands on my ass firmly and grinds against me.

My hand slowly makes its way down his chest to cop a feel, but he grabs it and puts it back. "Keep your hands on my neck."

That was... hot as fuck.

-Assertive: Check!-

I tilt my head, deciding to challenge him on it. "Or what?"

His eyes get more intense as he grabs a hold of the hair at the nape of my neck and tugs ever so gently. "Then I'll have to punish you." He leans in. "Are you going to be a good boy?"

My eyes widen as the memories come back to me.

I feel the fingers of his other hand caress the exposed skin at my waist where my shirt has risen up. He smiles. "Ah, now you remember."

The music has changed to a slower song with a deep pounding back beat. Our hips start undulating in time with it. I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. His eyes dart down to my mouth and he pulls my face closer to his. I think he is going to kiss me, but instead he breathes out, "Pick a number between one and five."

I'm confused for a moment and blurt out, "Three?"

He nods and presses his lips to my ear. I can feel goosebumps raising all over my skin. "After the third song ends, I want you to go to the men's room and find a stall. Once you are inside, get on your knees and lock the door. Don't open it until I've knocked three times."-

He taps his finger three times against my neck. "Do you understand?"-

He pulls away from me and looks into my eyes. I nod. "I understand."-

Dancing is torturous because I can't use my hands to touch him. He does make up for it by groping me frequently. He squeezes my hips and ass while rocking in time to the beat of the songs-

Thankfully he doesn't mind me caressing his neck. I slide my fingers up his nape and smooth the hair down. His hair is a little curly on the edges making it fun to play with.

I say with a hint of smugness, "So, you remembered me right away?"

He smirks down at me. "Yes."

I hum. "I guess I left an impression."

I can feel his chuckle vibrate against my chest. "I guess so."

My eyes lock on his with a knowing look. "That must mean you like me..."

He leans in and whispers, "You'll soon find out just how much."

-He really likes me: Check!-

When the third song ends I teasingly slip my hands down his back, fondling his ass quickly. Before he can scold me, I walk towards the back of the club and enter the men's room-

There is only one guy at a urinal. He looks at me and smiles. I keep my eyes forward and pick out the stall furthest from the door. I get in and turn the lock-

I look down at the toilet and close my eyes. There is a voice in my head that is screaming at me to slow down, you are going too fast!

I shake my head; take a deep breath in, then let it out with a loud whoosh.

I hear the door open and close. I think the guy at the urinal has left. I turn and drop to my knees. I wince as the tile floor bites into my skin. I lean back to shift some weight onto my shins.

Despite the voice of reason in my head, my cock is 100% on board. I want to do this. I wanted it the last time I saw him.

I hear the door open again and look down under the stall. I think he was wearing black boots, but I was paying more attention to his jeans-

Sure enough, a pair of black boots appear in front of the door. I hear three knocks. I lick my lips and turn the lock.

He walks inside quickly and slots the lock back in place. My back is already pressed against the toilet so it is a tight fit, but it works. I have to crane my neck to look up at him. He looks down at me and places his right hand on my left cheek. After searching my face for a minute he says, "You alright, love?"

When I look into his eyes my apprehension fades. I sigh and nod into his hand. "Yes, sir."

His eyes darken as he cradles the back of my head and pulls my face into his crotch. I breathe in deeply and moan, rubbing my cheek against the bulge-

He pushes me away gently to start unbuttoning his jeans. When he pulls down the zipper, the sound is so loud in the confines of the stall.

As he shoves them and his briefs down to mid thigh, his cock pops up in my face. My mouth waters. It is at least seven inches and uncut. I immediately lean forward to take a taste, but he puts a finger in the middle of my forehead.

I look up and see him shaking his head. He takes himself in hand and starts to stroke himself. His cock gets a little thicker and longer as he watches me.

My eyes dart back and forth comically from his dick to his face. A whimper escapes from the back of my throat. I'm too far gone to be embarrassed. I feel like I'm being teased. Like a dog with a bone being dangled right in front of him.

He chuckles down at me and I frown in frustration. Apparently that is enough because he grips the back of my head and slowly presses the tip of his cock against my lips.

I look up at his face. "Please?"

He nods slightly and that is all the affirmation I need-

I lean in and lick at the sticky substance pooling at the tip. It is warm and salty and the most delicious thing I've tasted all night. I keep my eyes looking up as I continue to swirl my tongue around it.

His eyes are intensely focused on me, and dilated. Other than that, he isn't showing many signs that he is enjoying it-

I want to see him lose it.

I take my hand to lift up his shaft to give his sack some attention. I moan in appreciation when I see he is smooth-shaven-

"Put your hands behind your back."

I immediately drop my hands to my sides and place them where he commanded-

"Good boy."

My eyes fall closed at the words of approval. The hand on the back of my neck squeezes causing my eyes to open. He leans in and the head of his cock swipes over my lips over and over.

I huff out an impatient breath and he groans. "Open your mouth wide."

I do as I'm told and he slides his cock on my tongue. My mouth immediately floods with saliva causing him to slip in all the way to my throat. Tears spring to my eyes and I swallow involuntarily.

He closes his eyes and takes in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Do that again."

I swallow again and he looks down at me like he wants to devour me.

His voice is heavy with arousal when he says, "I want to fuck your throat. Can you handle that, pet?"

I don't know how he expects me to answer with his member weighing heavy on my tongue. He seems to realize this and pulls out. Strings of my saliva connect from my lips to his cock. I swallow and say, "Yes, please."

His look is reverential when he says, "You're perfection."

I moan softly and my cock throbs in my briefs. I think I could come just from him looking at me like that.

He pushes back into my mouth faster than before. I gag a little but he pulls back before I choke. He finds a rhythm, pushing in and out quickly. I can hear the sounds my throat is making echo in the quiet bathroom. My cheeks flush with embarrassment, but I don't really care-

He pants out, "You are being so good for me. I'm going to come soon..."

I take a deep breath before he slides in deep. He keeps it there while he shoots down my throat. I swallow around him and he shudders holding onto the back of my head with both hands, my nose pressed tight to his stomach. I'm just starting to feel light-headed when he pulls out-

Both of us are breathing fast. It sounds loud and indecent in the closed space.

He puts his cock away and clothes back together. If he walked out now, I doubt people would be able to tell he just received head. Not a hair is out of place. The only thing that might give him away are his fogged glasses.

I imagine I look debauched. I begin to notice how uncomfortable my knees are and start to squirm. Never mind how my dick feels, pressing uncomfortably against my zipper.

"Come here." He grabs my arms and helps me stand. I'm a little shaky, but he holds me still.

He takes his thumb and wipes at the corners of my mouth and my swollen lips. I groan and try to grind my crotch on his thigh.

He quickly turns me around to lean against his chest. I tilt my head to the side to lay on his shoulder. He licks a stripe up my neck while groping my crotch before unbuttoning and unzipping my jeans.

I can't stop myself from saying desperately, "Yes! Please, I'm so close..."

There is laughter coming from outside the stall. I freeze. He places his hand over my mouth as he takes my cock out. I'm leaking copious amounts of pre-come. He uses it for lubrication, and starts jacking me off. Fast and tight.

He whispers low against my ear, "Will you come just like this? Knowing there is someone out there thinking about all the filthy things you did with your mouth whilst on your knees?"

I moan against his palm. He bites my earlobe and I come. Most of my seed lands in the toilet, but some hits the floor-

My breath is coming in and out fast and loud through my nostrils. When I realize his hand is still over my mouth, I lick it-

He removes it and turns me around to face him. I start to put my dick back but he bats my hands away and tucks it into my jeans for me.

He tugs me in closer by my belt loops and leans in to take my bottom lip between his teeth. Then he kisses me-

Finally. I feel like I have been waiting for that kiss for a lifetime.

Two years earlier...

The time reads 9:18 pm on my watch when I walk out of LAX. There is a driver waiting for me outside to take me home.

As I get into the backseat I realize that I don't want to go to my apartment. It's sad and depressing. All I'll end up doing is drinking until I regret it. I need to find some outlet for my anxiety. Work was mind-numbing to say the least and I want a release.

My father/Boss/Enemy Number One/Thorn in my Side, decided I needed to be the one to schmooze our new client in Sacramento.

Never mind the fact that I'm only a third year associate. He says my name is good enough-

Not my merits, my work ethic, my talent? None of that-

I wouldn't have questioned it; in fact I would have loved to get away for a few days. But, my mom was diagnosed with stage four colon cancer two months ago-

She wasn't supposed to last this long, but we got her the best doctors and bought her a little extra time. I wanted to stay close by.

Mr. Young of Dixon and Young, a.k.a. my father, who never really cared about my mother enough for it to count, decided that he needed to be the one to stay and be there for her.

Imagine my surprise. After years of missed birthdays, holidays and family vacations, due to work needing to be the number one priority, he decides to trust me to go on a business trip-

Granted, he did say that it was such an easy task even I couldn't screw it up. I took that one on the chin, kept my mouth shut, and hopped on a plane.

It wasn't until I got there that I realized why I had to be the one. The new client was gay, single and apparently had requested me.

We had met briefly when he was in LA and was deciding if he wanted to hire us.

The day I landed in Sacramento, he didn't mess around with pretenses and bluntly asked if I would be interested in having sex with him-

I was shocked for sure. Don't get me wrong, he is incredibly attractive. At 35, he is one of the youngest CEO's in the US. He's rich, handsome and charming-

If he hadn't been a client, I would have gladly taken him up on his offer. But I have a rule: No fucking around at work.

When I said no, he immediately backed off. No harm no foul. But, I wondered just how far my father wanted me to go to keep his business.

I guess for my dad, being gay was okay if it meant getting more clients.

I clear my throat to help bring me back to the present. "I'm sorry if this is an inconvenience, but could you take me to Brimstone?"

He gives me a quick look in the rear view mirror. "Uh... Sure. No problem."

I did my research and found a good club to go to for first time BDSM enthusiasts. It was a long shot going tonight and expecting to be immediately whisked away by a sexy Dom who would flog me until I could feel something, but I needed to try.

It is a cool evening in mid-October, but I shuck my suit jacket and roll up the sleeves of my shirt. I decide to loosen a few buttons down to mid chest. I carelessly ball up my jacket and put it in the carry-on bag from my trip. After a second, I unbuckle my belt and put it away as well. I'm so focused on my task, I almost miss the driver telling me we've arrived.

He says, "Would you like me to come back around 1?"

Three hours should be plenty of time for what I have in mind. "Thank you. Yes."

I take a deep breath and get out of the car. I watch the driver pull away and walk up to the front of an old, brick building that used to be a warehouse. On the outside, it is fairly discreet. Even the location is not a popular section of LA. Nothing screams: SEX CLUB! There is only a simple, black sign that says, "Brimstone" in red letters.

My hands are shaking slightly, as I show my ID to the bouncer at the entrance. He looks bored as he nods and lets me through.

There is a petite redhead, fire engine red, standing at a counter. She is wearing a skintight, black, latex crop top. A burgundy collar around her neck has a name tag that says: Princess.

Her makeup is flawless. Dark red lipstick, lined in black with a smoky eye-

She is breathtakingly beautiful. In LA pretty people grow on trees. But, she is unique.

She says, "Are you a member or guest?"

I reach into my wallet to cover the entrance fee. "Guest"-

She smiles and takes my credit card. I wait patiently while she taps it against the screen. She glances up at me. "First time at a fetish club?"

I huff out a laugh. "Am I that obvious?"

Her left eyebrow lifts. "Your vibe is literally screaming it."

I worry my bottom lip and look down at my clothes, suddenly realizing I'm probably wearing the wrong attire. "Is that a bad thing?"

She laughs. It is a bright cheerful sound like a wind chime. It makes me smile instead of feeling self-conscious. "They will eat you alive."

I look at the velvet curtains leading to the back of the club. "I hope so."