“I want you, but that doesn't mean we have to do anything about it,” Glen said.
Why had she gotten herself into this? Did she want to reopen things she thought were settled? She gazed at his comfortable, familiar face. “I know,” she said. “Glen, I want you too but it doesn't mean anything's changed between us. I'm still going back to New York.” He kissed her gently on the side of her neck where he knew she was vulnerable. “Nothing's changed.” He kissed her again, taking small nips at the tendon.
God,
she thought,
he knows how to turn me on.
“Glen, we really shouldn't do this. You'll just get hurt all over again.”
“I know,” he whispered, switching to the other side of her neck, “you've said that a zillion times. But for me, right now, tonight is all that matters. I'm so hungry for you that tonight's the only thing I want.”
She tried. She really tried. Then she stopped trying. Of their own volition her arms slipped around his neck. Of their own volition her lips found his. Of its own volition her body pressed against his. Their lips met, tongues dueling, warm and soft.
And hungry. Her hunger was sudden and overwhelming. She grabbed the back of his shirt and pulled it off over his head. Skin. She wanted to feel his skin beneath her hands. So soft and smooth. His back, his shoulders, his lightly furred chest with the line of hair that disappeared into the waistline of his slacks.
He was obviously as hungry as she was. Quickly her sweater lay in a heap on the floor, her bra beside it. His hands were full of her, tugging at her nipples the way he knew she liked, while she found his belt and pulled it open. The button at his waist was stubborn so he helped her with it. Then his slacks and hers were tossed aside, along with shoes, socks, and underwear. Both naked, he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
Lying on the bed, she watched him lay down beside her. “Oh, God, Jenna,” he whispered. “You're so beautiful.” Then he could say no more. She dragged his mouth to hers and, smooth body against smooth body, they moved, feeling, just feeling.
The silky spread on his bed against her back, his body heavy on top of hers, they moved together. His hands cupped her face and he kissed her eyes, cheeks, ears, then devoured her mouth. She felt his hardness against her mound and the wetness between her thighs. She needed him but he didn't move to penetrate.
His hand found her sopping center and stroked, then two of his fingers plunged into her as her hips bucked upward to meet him. She wanted him to rub her clit so she grabbed his hand and showed his fingers where to touch. Higher and higher she climbed, moving her body to enhance the sensation. She ran her fingernails down his back, then found his hard cock. She squeezed, then slid from base to head. He quickly rolled away and pulled a small foil package from his bedside-table drawer.
She took it away, opened it, and ever so slowly unrolled the latex over his penis.
“Jenna!” he shouted, plunging into her. His hand was between them, stroking her clit as his cock thrust and withdrew. She cupped his buttocks, showing him her rhythm. She was aware of his restraint until she finally came, then he followed. Sweat soaked and exhausted, they collapsed on their sides, the entire length of their bodies pressed against each other.
Satisfied. Replete. All the words she'd read over the years in novels about the aftermath of lovemaking, this was all of that. She snuggled against Glen's warm body and draped an arm over his naked chest. What had she done? She'd think about it later. For right now she closed her eyes and floated in a delicious haze.
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Glen lay against Jenna, his fingers lightly stroking up and down the arm that lay across his chest. He tried not to read anything into their lovemaking. It meant nothing, just a coupling of two hungry people. He tried to focus on that. And failed. They couldn't make love like this unless there was something still left of their relationship. He started to say something, then decided to leave well enough alone. They had made a memory, something for him to hold on to, something for Jenna to think about when she returned to New York City.
He closed his eyes and just enjoyed the moment.
Chapter
12
T
he following morning Jenna and Marcy sat in the sunny kitchen. Jenna hadn't slept much the previous night. Glen had dropped her off at her car, then followed her to the house to be sure she arrived safely. They had each struggled not to say what was uppermost in their minds.
“I really fucked it up, Marcy,” Jenna said after she told her sister that she and Glen had been to bed together. “As much as I said it didn't mean anything I'm afraid Glen will expect too much of me, then have his hopes dashed all over again.”
“You mean it didn't change anything?” Marcy mopped the last of her egg yolk from her plate with the last of her toast.
Did it change things? Jenna hadn't a clue. Why had she come back to Seneca Falls? Why had she had lunch with Melinda and the other women from AAJ? Why had she reminded herself of the good things she'd left behind? And the biggest why of all; why had she gone to bed with Glen? He's such a special man and they were really good together. He'd made sure she was satisfied before letting himself come. She'd showed him what she needed and he'd done it well. Had she ever showed him before? “I don't know what it changed, Sis. All I know is that I'm going back to Manhattan this afternoon more confused than ever.”
“I can't say I'm unhappy about your confusion, Jen. I'd love to have you back here. I miss you like crazy. But more important, you need to make some difficult decisions and you need to understand as much as you can to make them, yourself more than anything.”
“I wish you'd stop being so reasonable,” Jenna said, wryly, pushing her empty cereal bowl aside.
Marcy's grin was quick and wide. “Dessert time.” She picked up the jar of jelly beans at her elbow and held it out to Jenna, who reached in and picked out a coconut one. “You can't pick,” Marcy said. “You've got to take whatever jelly bean jumps into your hand.”
Jenna popped the white candy into her mouth. “I guess I can, and I did.” Was there a lesson there? She couldn't pick the parts of her life she wanted to keep. It was Glen and Seneca Falls or Club Fantasy. Right now, it was Club Fantasy.
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Jenna arrived back at the brownstone midevening. She'd thought about going back to her apartment but she found herself giving the address on East Fifty-fifth to the cab driver at the airport. She arrived, let herself in, and found Rock watching a basketball game in the living room. “How was your visit?” he asked.
How was her visit? Interesting question. She had decided not to think too much about Glen and Seneca Falls. “Confusing.”
“Want to talk?”
Jenna looked at him and realized that, as he gazed at her with undivided attention, he would probably be a good listener. However, she didn't want to talk about her incredibly mixed feelings. “Not at the moment.”
“I'm here if you want to unload. Any time.”
She realized that he truly meant that. “I know, and thanks. Where's everybody?”
“Chloe's in the motel room and Anita, one of Erika's ladies, is in the Western room.”
Jenna put down her suitcase, dropped into a chair, and fastened her gaze on the big-screen TV. “Are you a basketball fan?” Rock asked. She knew that he was a fan of every sport that had even been invented. He'd watch the World Poker Tour or a British snooker tournament if there wasn't anything more strenuous on.
Jenna had never been much of a basketball fan but she knew a little about the way the pros played. The New Jersey Nets were winning by four points over the Sacramento Kings. “Good game?”
“Yeah,” Rock said. “Only three minutes to go. That should only take about half an hour.”
Jenna laughed, knowing that he was probably right about the time. As the images played across the TV screen only a small part of Jenna's mind was on the game. She hadn't spent any time with Rock since their encounter in front of the mirror almost a week earlier and she wondered whether anything had changed between them. Fortunately, it didn't seem to have. He was still just a friend. With Rock occasionally pointing out a particular player and explaining the coach's strategy, they watched together in silence until the game ended with a Net victory almost twenty-five minutes later.
As she stood up to head home, whatever that word meant, Rock said, “I've been doing some thinking about the basement. Got a few minutes?”
“Sure,” Jenna said, glad to have her mind occupied in a different direction.
“Great.” He unfolded himself from the chair and took her hand as they walked downstairs. “Let me tell you what I think we might do.”
At the foot of the stairs Rock flipped on the only light, a bare, hanging bulb. Jenna looked around. The room was only a half-finished shell, plasterboard walls, a ceiling with the lighting fixtures already in place but inoperable, and a tile floor that was always cold underfoot. It appeared as though sometime in the past Aunt Elise had thought of turning it into a play room, but had never gotten past the initial stages. Boxes and trunks were piled everywhere, now covered with a thick layer of dust. The room smelled musty and damp, the air thick with the odor of disuse. Jenna had always thought about going through the mess to try to find items for their fantasies, but so far hadn't worked up the energy.
“The room is large enough for us to wall off the water heater and furnace area,” he said, motioning off to one side, “and still have enough space to work with. I think some dark paneling, with at least one wall entirely of mirrors.” He grinned. “You know all about mirrors now, don't you?”
She tried desperately not to blush. “Enough,” she said, laughing to cover her discomfort.
“I hoped you'd be able to laugh about that evening. It was wonderful sex and I enjoyed it thoroughly, but I don't want it to change our friendship.”
“I don't, either. It worried me a lot.”
Rock grinned sheepishly. “Me too. But I value your friendship enough to assure you that there won't be a repeat unless you want it. However, I would love a return engagement if you want to play some time. I'd really like to show you how this room works when we get it done.”
Strange way to interact,
she thought, as she felt the tension drain from her body.
I want to be friends, he says, but I want to fuck your brains out from time to time. What the hell. After all, I run a brothel called Club Fantasy. What could be stranger than that? What did they call it on
Sex in the City?
Fuck buddies? Why the hell not?
“I think I would too.”
His grin was infectious and she found herself smiling with him. “Good.” He draped a large arm over her shoulders. “Back to business. We can create storage space in the furnace area for whatever of this we want to keep. We'll need a table or a bed, depending on the situation, and lots of bondage equipment. I've never been able to create a specialty area like this from scratch and I've got dozens of ideas. Give me a budget and I'll get started.”
She and Chloe would have to agree on the finances but they had so much money rolling in that Rock could pretty much spend whatever he thought necessary. And this room would bring in lots of additional business. “I guess we'll need to hire folks.”
“Don't worry about that,” Rock said. “I have friends who can do the work in exchange for an evening's entertainment when we're done and the use of the room from time to time, at your convenience. One's even a licensed electrical contractor, so we'll be up to code on everything.”
“Electrical contractor?”
“We need extra outlets and better lighting. It needs to be dank and dim or brightly lit, depending on the client.”
“Oh, right.”
“I'd love to take you and Chloe shopping at a place I particularly like. Lots of fetish stuff.”
“I thought I'd just check that kind of stuff out on the net.”
“The net's fine, but I like to touch and play with things before I buy.”
Touch and play with things. Her pussy was twitching and getting wet. This was going to be an interesting project.
The following day she and Rock talked with Chloe, and they arrived at a budget for the dungeon. Over the next weeks, several men came and went during the day and, when Jenna happened to be around, she could hear hammers, power tools and lots of macho male laughter.
God,
she thought,
Club Fantasy should consider a construction room for women's pleasures.
She giggled to herself. Muscular men and power tools.
Finally the room was finished and Rock suggested a grand-opening party. “We're usually closed on Monday and Tuesday so why don't we have a play party some Monday evening soon with a few of the guys who helped me build this thing. Are you ladies up for some fun?”
Jenna had to make one admission. “I'm not sure I'm ready to have sex in the same room as Chloe just yet. It would feel really bizarre to me.”
“That's fine. You ladies will play separately, if that's what you two want. No problem.”
With a bit of trepidation, Jenna and Chloe agreed to Rock's plans. “And no peeking at the room until then. I want it to be as much of a surprise as it would be for a new customer.”
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Before they could enjoy the new room, Jenna took on quite a different project. Chloe, using her club name Melissa, had taken a call from a man named Tony, well recommended and seemingly able to pay Club Fantasy's price for both himself and his wife.
In their interview, Chloe had learned that what Tony wanted most was to watch his wife with another man. Since his wife Nancy would be involved in this fantasy, Chloe met with her the following afternoon and discussed Tony's desires, and Nancy's. She and Jenna set everything up, then called Tony to outline the evening to him. Tony had wanted a peephole sort of thing, but Chloe explained that they had a video area set up and he could watch on closed-circuit TV. If he wanted the tape afterward, there would be an extra charge, of course, but he told her that he might be willing to pay it. After all, watching the tape should be almost as good as watching it live.
He arrived at the brownstone at the allotted time, and Chloe settled him in the “living room” and sat silently behind him, watching his reactions. She, Jenna, and Nancy had discussed the evening at length. They knew they were taking a chance with their plan but they had all decided that it would be worth it. They'd hired one of Erika's male entertainers, a gorgeous would-be actor named Jack, to help.
Tony stared at the big-screen TV, large enough that the images would be almost life-size. Chloe knew he was picturing naked bodies, hands, asses, genitals, all arrayed for his viewing pleasure, as they said in commercials. His cock was probably hard just thinking about it as he settled more deeply into his lounge chair, feet up, and waited for the fun to begin.
And begin it did. As Chloe watched, a woman walked into the room first, dressed in one of Nancy's floor-length, floaty robes that just hinted at her body beneath. It was a bit difficult to see the woman's face but Tony leaned forward and nodded. The woman was followed by Jack, a true stud with a great body, well-developed pecs and a tight ass, dressed in a very tight, black tee shirt, slim, black jeans, and black cowboy boots. He was about six feet tall with long, curling, dark brown hair tied at the back of his neck with a leather thong, and steel gray eyes.
Tony craned his neck to see how his wife was reacting to this hunk, but her back was to him, her head lowered, seemingly unaware that she was being filmed. “Do not speak,” the man said. “You have told me all your secret passions and I will endeavor to give you pleasures beyond your wildest expectations.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice already hoarse with passion. She started to look around at the camera but the man turned her away. “I don't want you to think about the camera or your husband.” He paused. “Think only of me, of here, and of now.”
Chloe and Tony watched her nod her agreement.
“Have you ever been blindfolded?” the man asked. When Tony saw her begin to speak, the man turned her and put his hand in front of her mouth. Understanding, she merely shook her head. “You respond well,” he said, as he took a wide black scarf from his pants pocket and quickly tied it over her eyes. “Now you will think only of me and our lovemaking. Think of my hands, my mouth, my cock giving you pleasure.”
The man obviously knew that Tony was watching, but he seemed oblivious. He slowly turned Nancy toward the camera, the wide scarf covering most of her face. He unfastened the neck of the garment and it slipped to the floor. He smiled as he gazed with appreciation at her lush curves.
The man's hands hovered over Nancy's body, not touching her skin. Rather he traced the shape of her breasts, her shoulders, her belly, and hips. “You are perfection,” he purred. She raised her head and he kissed her, obviously drinking deeply of her mouth. His arms slid around her waist, drawing her closer. He cupped her buttocks, pressing his jeans-covered groin against her naked flesh.