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  “We need you to lay down,” said Lola.

  I shifted on the bed, doing as they asked. I glanced at the ceiling, noting its recessed lighting. Only the bed was illuminated, with the dimmer on, lessening the stark quality of the light. I closed my eyes, waiting for something to happen. Where was my blindfold when I needed it? In a strange way, it had given me confidence. Something touched my arm, feeling like the end of a brush. I lifted my head and saw that the women held paintbrushes. What the hell?

  My body began to tingle and buzz wherever they brushed me. Cammy stroked my arm, working her way to my neck, while Lola ran the brush from my throat to my breasts, the bristles tickling the deep valley of my cleavage. I shuddered from the sensation, the silkiness of the effect stoking the beginnings of arousal. I had no idea brushes felt so good. She dipped into my navel, sweeping it around and around. Cammy touched my face, the soft, brush strokes sliding gently over my cheeks, nose, and mouth. She teased my ears, sending little chills down my spine.

  “I think she likes this,” murmured Lola.

  Lola was heading south…fast. I was trapped in the rapture of this particular technique, not wanting it to end. Her brush drew nearer to my mound, the anticipation building inside of me, like the rousing end of a piece of music played by an orchestra. Soft strokes landed on my inner thighs, while Cammy skimmed the edges of a nipple with her brush. She traced the curves of my breasts and then returned to play around the nipples, which had become achy, stiff peaks. Not to be outdone, Lola moved over my clit, the caress felt feather light, yet utterly stimulating. My hands had curled into fists at my sides, my body humming with sensual expectation.

  The feel of the brush sliding up and down my slit was indescribable. I shuddered, gasping for breath, and drowning in this unique technique. Cammy’s brush was in my belly button, teasing and turning in tight circles. Lola had me spreading my legs. The feel of air in this region made me shiver, because I was dripping wet. She outlined my pelvis, running the bristles to my inner thighs and back to my clitoris, which felt like a huge, throbbing mass. She passed over my slit with determined strokes.

  “I’m going to need a new brush,” she murmured.

  I swallowed my embarrassment. I couldn’t help how my body responded to this particular stimulation, but I didn’t want it to stop.

  “Maybe it’s time you show her who’s boss, Lola.”

  “Ooohh…yeah. She’s more than ready.”

  I sat up, suddenly anxious. “What?”

  “Lie down,” murmured Lola. “The fun’s just beginning.”

  Chapter Five

  I’d caught a glimpse of Mr. Gordon, sitting attentively in his chair, with his hands on his knees. Was that a bulge in his pants? No. Or was it? Did he save his erection for when he was alone with the videos? Did he have sexual problems? Was that why his wife had left him? Or did he leave her? I suddenly had a million questions, and it was irritating that I would probably never know the answers.

  Lola dug in her bag, producing a dildo. This hadn’t surprised me. It wasn’t particularly lengthy or outlandish in color. It was a simple, flesh-toned, molded hunk of rubber, created to look exactly like a man’s penis. What I hadn’t counted on was the strap-on that suddenly appeared. Who’s wearing that?

  “Hand it over,” demanded Cammy. She attached the apparatus around her hips, the black cock jutting out from her creamy skin. She held her newly acquired appendage, smiling broadly. “I’m wearing the pants today.”

  “It looks good on you,” said Lola.

  She smacked my cheek lightly with the rubber cock. I was stunned by this action. It hovered near my mouth. “That’s right, honey. Open up.” I have to suck a piece of rubber? Ugh. The rounded tip pressed to my lips, the smell of plastic teasing me. “Open up for mommy.” I did so. “That’s it. Suck my cock. Suck it hard.”

  It was strange having something cold and rubbery in my mouth, but, if this was what Mr. Gordon needed to get off, then far be it from me to deny him. He was paying me a tremendous amount of money for the privilege and the least I could do was hold up my end of the bargain. I closed my lips around the shaft and sucked. Lola prodded my clit with the tip of her dildo. Then she slid it back and forth, wetting it instantly. This felt even better than the brush, and it was an effort not to moan. I hadn’t had sex in months. My love life was abysmal on a good day, and this past year, especially so.

  I really need to buy my own dildo. “Ooomm…”

  The moan tore from my throat, which was stuffed with plastic cock. I gagged, as Cammy shoved the tool in further. I wasn’t all that fond of oral sex, hating to perform it…usually…but the way this woman was forcing it on me, had a peculiar effect. I choked on the length, gagging, as tears flooded my eyes. My nerve endings all but screamed with arousal, which was something I had never experienced before. Lola’s skill with the dildo was not to be underestimated. The tool toyed with my hole, the head popping in and out, making wet, squishing sounds. I knew Mr. Gordon had a direct view of my lower anatomy. He was probably staring right at the spot where the dildo entered. Morbid curiosity had me lifting my head, seeing him looking exactly where I suspected he was. He met my gaze then; an austere look was in his eye.

  “Come on, bitch. Eat my cock.” Cammy forced it into my mouth. “Yeah, that’s it. Suck it.”

  Lola manipulated the dildo, while her breath lingered over my mound. My body tensed with expectation. I tried to mask the effect they had on me, but I failed, moaning helplessly. Her tongue began to prod my clit, pushing the little nub back and forth. It was too much.

  “Oh! Omigod!” I gasped.

  “Yeah, Kittycat. You like it, don’t you?” asked Lola.

  The stimulation my body endured had me throbbing, gasping, and almost begging for release, as I hurtled closer to the edge of oblivion. There was nothing I could do to stop it. Lola grasped the flattened end of the dildo, pounding my slickened passage, while her tongue laved my clit.

  Just as the orgasm hit, I glanced at Mr. Gordon, and, for a breathtaking moment, I felt utterly connected to him. “Oh, God, no…” I groaned, throwing my head back and shuddering, while spasms wracked my body. “Ooohh…” Lola withdrew the dildo slowly. I gazed at the ceiling, my body quivering with the aftereffects of bliss. The women gathered their possessions and left the room without another word. I glanced at Mr. Gordon. “Is something wrong?” His expression revealed nothing.

  He stood. “Get dressed. You’re dismissed.”

  “Are you firing me?”

  His hand was on the doorknob. “No, you’re not fired, Ms. Fox. Just get dressed and get out.” He left the room.

  Ugh. That man.

  Later that night, after a hot bath, I found myself on my laptop with the television on in the background. I replayed Mr. Gordon’s greatest hits, the Demetril news conference, the interview with CNN, and several brief snippets from things he had said to reporters. The longer I listened, the more I enjoyed the timber of his voice and the articulation of his words. I’d stumbled across photos of him during his college years, looking young and handsome. That detached smile drew me in; the mystery of his persona was utterly intriguing. I had extracted some interesting tidbits from the things his ex-wife had said in interviews.

  My husband is a private man.

  We rarely vacation together…his schedule won’t allow it.

  James prefers tasteful, understated things…

  Married for ten years, they had never had children. She knew what he looked like naked. She knew what it felt like to be touched by him. There were pictures of them attending functions together, the happy couple smiling, and his arm around her. Had he treated her with the same cold indifference he bestowed upon me? Did he treat all women like this? Why the hell do you care, Gretchen?

  That night I dreamt about him…and the night after. By the time the weekend had arrived, I found myself in my car and parked within sight of the Lake Bluff house, watching…waiting…for what? I must have sat there for three hours
, staring at the red brick structure, wondering if anyone was home. A lawn service arrived in the afternoon, and three gardeners clambered out of the truck and began to mow the lawn. They operated a noisy leaf blower afterwards in the driveway. Other than that deafening intrusion, there were no visitors to the house that afternoon. I drove home feeling empty and disappointed.

  Work kept me busy, but the evenings were entirely predictable. My laptop was now an extension of my body, always near, and displaying a photo of Mr. Gordon. I counted the days until I saw him again, thinking of what I might say, and what naughty things he would have me do. He seemed to prefer watching lesbian situations, and I was finding those enjoyable as well. The week could not go by fast enough. It was torture having to wait until Friday night. I was ready a good hour before the driver picked me up. I stared out the window of my apartment into a gray, urban sky, watching the street below like a bird of prey. A flash of black had my attention, but my spirits plummeted when I realized it wasn’t the car I was looking for. It would be another twenty agonizing minutes before my phone buzzed.

  By the time I arrived at the house, I was a bundle of excited energy, my body buzzing at the thought of seeing Mr. Gordon again. Margaret led me up the staircase, which really wasn’t necessary. I knew where the room was. I stripped as soon as the door closed, throwing the robe on. After using the bathroom, I sat on the bed and waited. To my confusion, I waited a considerable amount of time, so long in fact, that Margaret returned.

  “Would you like a drink, Ms. Fox? I have cheese and crackers.”

  “Where’s Mr. Gordon?”

  “He’s running late.”

  My shoulders slumped. “Just water. Thanks.”

  “As you wish.”

  I sat on the bed, kicking my leg up and down, my excitement diminishing. It would be another hour before the door opened, and, by that time, I had fallen asleep. A hand touched my shoulder, waking me.

  “What?” I stared at James Gordon’s face. “Hi.” Holy shit! He actually touched me.

  “I’m sorry about the wait.”

  I sat up, brushing hair out of my face. “Um…that’s all right.”

  “Good. Then we can get started.”

  He seemed a little tense tonight, a touch on edge. I watched him carefully, noting the impeccable cut of his black suit and the blueness of his tie. His attention was on the carpet. He avoided looking at me directly, which was a little strange. I fully anticipated several women to walk through the door, and when it finally swung open, I sucked back a gasp. Tonight’s entertainment would not include females. Two tall, muscled men stood in the room wearing nothing but towels around their waists.

  Oh, my…oh…wow…

  Mr. Gordon took his seat then, staring at me blankly. “Take your robe off.”

  I shivered, feeling self-conscious. I let it drop, the silken material floating to my feet. I tried not to stare at the men; their bulk and stature were intimidating. I focused on the bookshelf across the room. Smile for the camera. Say cheese.

  “Fuck her.”

  The cold, impersonal tone in his voice brought me up short. Was this going to be some sort of gang-rape scenario? I glanced at Mr. Gordon to assess his demeanor, but his esoteric look gave nothing away. He enjoyed having all the control, the smug bastard. The men, who had dropped their towels, approached me. It was distressing seeing their erections, which had basically sprung up out of nowhere. The lengthy organs were hairless and hard, the rounded ends glistening slightly. Had they primed themselves with a porno in the other room? Good God!

  “I’m not going to say it again. Fuck her.”

  Chapter Six

  Strong hands grabbed me, hauling me to the bulging chest of a man, who was a total stranger. His cock pressed into my belly. He turned me around roughly, grabbing my hips and pressing himself to the entrance of my womanhood. Without the benefit of prior stimulation, I prepared myself for pain, but lubricant suddenly appeared, and a second later, his full length slid in effortlessly.

  “Oh, my!”

  He pounded me from behind, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips. A cock appeared before my face, and its owner forced it into my mouth. I struggled to suck, because the man behind me was ruthless in the demands he made on my person. I had never had sex with two men in my life, and the situation might have been enjoyable, if they had seduced me first. As it was, the man jackhammering my cunt came quickly, pulling from the orifice and forcing me to turn around where he proceeded to squirt semen in my face. I closed my eyes to avoid the deluge. Great. There’s sperm in my hair! Gross!

  Not to be outdone, his friend took the position behind me and fucked me just as forcefully, grunting with the effort and stiffening, emptying himself in a gush of fluid. Wetness dripped to my inner thighs, as he drove in and out, milking the dregs of his pleasure.

  “Go away now,” intoned Mr. Gordon.

  “Yes, sir.”

  They grabbed their towels and left the room. I sat on the bed, not caring that I wet the bedspread with goopy and disgusting semen. I glared at Mr. Gordon, loathing him at that moment.

  “What’s the matter? You didn’t enjoy it?”

  “Not really.”

  “This isn’t about your enjoyment, Ms. Fox.”

  “I…guess not. Now what?”

  “We’re waiting on round two.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling dirty and used. This was not what I had been expecting. I swallowed the disappointment. Mr. Gordon’s sadistic side had emerged, and God only knew what else would happen tonight. I tried to reset my brain. It’s not personal. It’s business. I had to detach from my own feelings and let go of my expectations. I stared at the carpet to avoid his scrutiny. He seemed to enjoy my discomfort.

  “Look at me, Ms. Fox.” Reluctantly, I met his gaze. “You hate me now, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know you well enough for that.”

  “Don’t you?”

  “No. Can I…use the bathroom?”

  “Certainly.”

  I scurried from the room, closing the door behind me, and leaned against it. I fought back an onslaught of tears, my throat constricting.

  You have to get yourself together, Gretchen!

  I can’t.

  Yes, you can.

  He’s not who I thought he was.

  You don’t even know him. You’ve blown him up in your fantasies.

  I…wish I knew him.

  Why? He’s a pervert.

  Maybe I could change him.

  Oh, honey. You’re so deluding yourself.

  No.

  You have to get a grip.

  Ugh.

  I cleaned myself up with a wet washcloth and used the facilities. My face was a mess, mascara was under my eyes, my lipstick was smeared, and sticky semen coated my hair. I couldn’t even run my fingers through it. Ugh. Yuck. When I emerged from the bathroom, the men had returned, standing naked and proud, their cocks jutting out, ready for more. My time in the bathroom had not fortified me enough; my emotions were worryingly unbalanced. I hadn’t expected to feel this vulnerable, this reluctant, or this scared. My arms were crossed over my breasts, hiding them.

  Mr. Gordon’s gaze rested on me. “You can do anything you want to her.”

  I should run to the door and leave.

  You’re naked!

  I don’t care!

  The baldheaded man sat on the bed. “Come here, darlin’.” I eyed him warily. He held out a hand. “Go on. Come to me.” With deliberate slowness, I approached, nearing enough for him to grab my hand. He pulled me onto his lap; his arms went around me. He smelled lightly of a musky floral fragrance. I remained stiff in the embrace, fearing what was to come. He stroked my back, while I closed my eyes, and wished I were somewhere else. In my mind I pictured a park with grass and trees…the sun shining… I was anywhere but here.

  “I like my women willing,” he murmured. “She’s scared shitless.”

  His words brought me back. As he gently rub
bed my arms, I began to relax, but the sharp edges of fear still lingered. His friend sat on my other side, his hand touching my shoulder. They stroked, massaging my muscles, coaxing me away from the clutches of anxiety. Lips closed over my mouth. The kiss was light and sweet, yet I sensed his need, because his cock jerked beneath me. The other man took hold of my face and kissed me. They were excellent at seduction, leaving me buzzed and wet with arousal.

  Someone’s hands threaded through my hair, bringing my head back, exposing my throat. Lips descended, licking, biting, and sucking on my skin. I would be purple with hickies tomorrow, but it felt wonderful. Fingers kneaded the flesh on my abdomen, massaging and working lower, while an aggressive tongue charmed me thoroughly, attacking my mouth. Every inch of my dermis was being touched and stimulated by caring fingers. I didn’t need to imagine myself elsewhere, because I was in an erotic paradise now. My nipple was in someone’s mouth, laved and suckled.

  “Oh, God…” I was suddenly on my back. My legs were drawn apart, and the body of a man was between them, sliding lower by the second, until his hot breath hovered over my mound. I felt a shocking wetness, even before his tongue had arrived. “Ooohhh…”

  “Suck that pretty pussy, Cale.”

  His finger toyed with my slit. “Is this what you want, sweetheart?”

  I glanced at him, but I saw Mr. Gordon instead, slightly pale-faced and severe, his lips were drawn in a grim line. “Yes,” I breathed. “Do it.” I collapsed on the bed; a mouth covering mine, while a lengthy tongue pressed against my clit. I moaned helplessly, drowning in bliss. The oral and vaginal stimulation produced an endless supply of tingles, which seemed to ping throughout my body. The man between my legs drove into my pussy, while his nose nudged my clit, sending bursts of sensation up my spine. I wrapped a hand around a cock, feeling hard heat.

  “Oh, God…oh, God…yes…” He lifted my hips, by pressing against the backs of my thighs, exposing me even more. I wasn’t sure what he intended, until I felt his tongue on my anus, spearing me gently. “No…oh…no…” A tongue filled my mouth with sugary silk silencing my protests. I had never had my bottom reamed before. The feeling was so deliciously intense; I prayed it never ended. Saliva dripped to the bedspread beneath me, as he worked the tight bands of my sphincter, loosening the muscles, bit by bit.