Spread (A Club Deep Story)By: Penny Wylder
“I tried to be a dancer for a while,” I admit, “but I was never good enough to make it as a professional.”
“Whoever told you that is flat-out wrong.”
I raise an eyebrow, “In that case, you can buy me a drink. It’s always nice to have a fan.”
“Fan isn’t really what I’d call myself, I was thinking more of a groupie.”
“You mean the people who follow celebrities around and try to sleep with—” I freeze, my face going bright red as I realize exactly what he’s saying. I clear my throat. “I see.”
He’s still holding my hand, and I pull him towards me, putting his fingers on the bare skin of my waist. “I think I do. But you have to answer this: Are you attracted to me because you saw me dance, or are you coming onto me because I’m a newcomer in a sex club and clearly have no idea what I’m doing?”
Julian’s eyes darken, and his hand slides around my waist to my lower back, fingers dipping dangerously close to the waistband of my pants. His voice is low, and I can just hear him over the noise of the club, the words humming in my ear and making my heart race. “I’m attracted to you. Even if I hadn’t seen you dance I would have seen you from across the room. Even if you had been simply walking down the street, I would be drawn to you. And after seeing you dance like that, I have no doubt that you know exactly what you’re doing.”
I swallow, suddenly aware of how close we’re standing, that if I took a step closer I’d be pressed up against him. I fight that thought, even though it’s the most appealing idea I’ve had in a long time.
“And you still haven’t told me your name,” he says in that same smooth tone.
“Libby. Libby Valentina,” I say, swallowing again.
Someone crashes into me from behind, and suddenly I’m flush against Julian’s body. His arms come around me, holding me in place, shielding me from being knocked further. My entire body lights up like a firework, like going from zero to sixty. My nipples are diamond hard pressing into his chest, and I’m suddenly wet. And it’s not just me. Julian is hard. Harder than hard, and huge and all of it is pressed up against me so I can tell exactly what’s on his mind. It’s on my mind now too. Damn it all to hell. What is wrong with me? You don’t even know this guy. It’s just the fact that you’re in a sex club and everything is new and exciting. You’re not actually this turned on.
I pull away from him, even though my body doesn’t want me to, and he lets me go.
“Do you still want that tour?”
“Sure,” I nod, because even if I’m not ready to jump into bed with him, I don’t want to leave. I want to keep listening to him speak in that perfect silky voice, and I want to keep imagining what might happen if he keeps touching me. Julian pulls me away from the bar and toward the edge of the room where all of the sex is happening, and I don’t fight it as he takes my hand again, keeping our fingers entwined. There are raised platforms, brightly lit, with couches and chairs hidden in the shadows around them so that people can watch if they wish. The very first platform we come to has me blushing all over again. A woman is tied to a table, unable to move as one man feeds her his cock, and another feasts on her pussy. Even though her mouth is full, I can hear her moaning.
“I didn’t think that places like this really existed,” I tell Julian.
I shrug. “I don’t know…I just, never imagined it.”
“I would have thought someone as sexy as you would look for a place like this?”
“Me?” I laugh. “No.”
Julian makes a sound of consideration, pulling me along to the next stage, which is actually more central in the club, and features a giant, brightly lit glass box. You can see it from anywhere in the club—it’s in the spotlight, and two people are inside having sex. They’re standing, her leg hitched over his hip as he pushes into her slowly, rhythmically. “The exhibitionist box.” Julian says in my ear.
I can see that, and they’re perfectly comfortable there, even though they’re stark naked in the middle of a club. I realize that there hasn’t been a hint of embarrassment or shame in any of the sex I’ve looked at. Maybe that’s why this place feels so natural. So comfortable. Dancing, clothed, is one thing, but I’m not sure that I’m brave enough to be wholly comfortable like that, out in the open where anyone can see you.