The Poisonous Cuckoo - Secrecy

As the door swing close I drop to the semi circular sofa, looking across the private room towards the cross stood before the window on which I had held Sara Anderson restrained to whilst taking advantage of the dominance I held over her young body.

My eyes slip to the two lines of cocaine sat on the table. As I retrieve a twenty-pound note from my pocket I start to tightly roll the note into a straw. My mind set on my initial allegation the potential truth to my words Sara Anderson was too young, too naive, too inexperienced. I had not nurtured the control I held over her. I had chased her for the whimsy of her youth and desire of her perfect body.

There was another though, another far more under my control, far more open to my suggestion, far more ingratiated under the influence of the sordid nature of our adulterous affair.

Simon Anderson's daughter might have proven to be an ill thought out impulsive subject despite the pleasure sought of and obtained from her over the last few weeks. His easy to manipulate wife constitutes a different subject matter all together.

Clinging to the thought process I slip to my knees in the dimly lit private room, inserting the rolled bank note into my right nostril I place my left forefinger against my left nostril as I lean forward and hoover up the last two lines of cocaine back to back, feeling the familiar burn within my sinuses.

Standing I step across the room towards the window, spotting the red haired girl once more. Gyrating now against an athletic looking black male at the edge of the dance floor. I watch as surrounded by bodies who pay them little to no attention as he turns her and presses her back up against a wall behind her. Her legs wrap his waist as she clings to him as without any shame on my part I watch as he equally unashamedly enters her despite the public nature of their tryst

I don't watch him, I just watch her, her face contorted in pleasure and pain as he hurriedly fucks her.

No one but myself seeming to notice.

Hidden behind the mirror glass I slip my dick through the fly of my trousers and begin to masturbate.

Minutes later as they part, and he sets her down on her feet a trickle of my own ejaculate runs down the inside of the mirror glass window.

**********

Stepping up to the bar I place the gold keycard upon the black marble surface of the bar.

An attractive brunette, dressed as ubiquitously as her colleagues in all black. Looks up in my direction, breaking conversation with a male colleague.

"Would you like a drink sir?" She offers loud enough to be heard over the din of the music.

"I think I'm all right," I offer trying not to be too obtuse towards her given my still disgruntled demeanour.

As I slide the card across the bar, I catch a glimpse from the corner of my eye as the platinum blonde who steps up alongside of me, her gaze seemingly locked on me. Watching as the brunette barmaid takes the card with which to access the fully paid for private room with I am half minded to requesting the key back. Wondering if I might find suitable enough company amongst the plethora of females who mingle amongst the clientele. Possibly the promiscuous little red head from the dance floor.

In all honesty under the influence of the amount of cocaine and champagne, consumed alone over the last hour in the private room I do not have the inclination to even test the waters.

"So..." I hear the girl to my right offer, "...Did you enjoy yourself in my private room?"

I turn my head along my shoulder and meet her crystal blue eyes. Stood with her back to the bar she fixes her narrowed eyes back on me with cock of her brow. A tight-fitting two-piece black trouser suits clings to her svelte body as I cast my eyes from her plaited platinum blonde hair to the short cut ankles of her trousers that sit above a silver strappy heel.

"There were highlights," I offer considering her assuredly.

"I sense your night didn't go to plan Mr Halliday." She catches me off guard a little.

A confusion passes over me by how she know my name. Just before placing an enquiry, I remember her opening gambit 'did you enjoy yourself in my private room?'

Appreciating that she knows my name as she owns this establishment and has assumedly made it her business to pay the courtesy to her clientele's of at the very least knowing their names.

"You could say that..." I offer not releasing her from my gaze, "...so you own this place?"

"For my troubles I do... Ari Walker-Smith" she offers extending her hand, which I delicately shake.

"Markus Halliday," I offer in reply as she slips her hand from my grip.

"I'm sorry that your evening never went to plan..." Ari offers with a teasing little wink, "...perhaps you never have the right subject matter."

As we speak she turns as the same brunette barmaid I had refused an offer of drink from sets down two glasses of champagne on the bar. I take the complimentary offering to which the blonde clinks her glass against before taking a long sip of her own.

As she stands side on to me the cut of the black jacket affords me a tantalising glimpse of her pale firm breasts held up the red, lace detail, bra.

"And is the right subject matter available?" I softly state.

Ari turns her head towards me a smirk passing her bright red lips as she looks me up and down this time.

"Not tonight Mr Halliday," she measuredly states as my heart sinks a little on an expectation I hadn't appreciated that I had held.

"Although..." the platinum blonde continues, "...at the Dark Star everything is available... at a price."

My intrigue fires, considering the research I had carried out on the venue, the prospects that remained hidden with the walls of the night club and twisted thoughts of the dungeon come basement room that could well sit directly beneath my feet. I turn my body towards the sultry blonde and her mischievous nature.

"Tell me more," I offer with genuine intrigue

My cocaine fuelled sordid imagination slipping into overdrive even before she can speak.

I need to know more.

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To be concluded.

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