His lips curved into a knowing smile. “How would you like me? On top? On the bottom? Behind? We can use the bathroom, the bed… the couch. It’s all your choice.”
Alice stepped into the club, the door shutting behind her with a soft hiss that made the silence of the lobby feel heavier. The space was too bright, too sterile. Polished white tiles underfoot, potted plants standing like guards along the walls, and a faint floral scent that felt oddly out of place for a house of pleasure. It reminded her of a doctor’s office more than a sanctuary of sex, and the thought made her pulse quicken with second-guessing. A long corridor stretched past the lobby, doors lining either side like the sterile rooms of a clinic.
Behind the front desk sat a woman who looked like she had been in the job far too long to be impressed by anything. Her hair was piled high in a messy blonde bun, dark roots showing. Her lipstick was a shade too red for her pale skin. She wore oversized glasses that slipped down her nose, forcing her to look at Alice over the frames as she lazily filed her nails. Alice hesitated, smoothing her palms down her skirt. Walking in here left her more self-conscious than she had expected. Her dress was a simple, thin summer fabric that clung just enough to her curves. The neckline hinted at the swell of her breasts, the hem ending at mid-thigh to show off long, toned legs. Her hair, chestnut and glossy, brushed over her shoulders, framing a face that was both soft and striking. She was a rare combination of innocence and quiet sensuality. A beauty that made men look twice and women silently jealous.
“First time, hun?” the receptionist asked, her tone flat, almost dismissive.
“Um… yes,” Alice answered softly, her voice betraying both nerves and the faintest edge of curiosity.
The woman smirked, sliding her nail file aside. “We only accept women over the age of eighteen who are married. I’m afraid you—”
“I’m twenty, and I’ve been married for three years.” Alice produced her ID, interrupting the receptionist. The woman took it, eyebrows lifting as she gave Alice another look, this time lingering.
“Marriage certificate?” she asked, voice casual.
Alice handed it over, the movement drawing attention to the soft curve of her wrist and the delicate shape of her fingers. The receptionist began typing, her nails clicking against the keyboard.
“Married at seventeen,” the woman said, her tone carefully neutral. “That’s unusual.” Alice let out a sigh. She was used to this reaction, used to strangers trying to ask the unspoken questions.
“I got pregnant at sixteen. My parents insisted he marry me before the baby came.” Her voice was steady, resigned.
The receptionist tilted her head, a glint of recognition in her eyes. “Shame. Parents really should’ve learned from the mistakes of others. My story’s similar. Didn’t work out for me either. Bad marriages.”
“My marriage is fine,” Alice snapped back a little too quickly. “I’m just…” Her words faltered.
“Oh, we get those too.” The receptionist’s voice softened into something sly. “Hun, I’ve got just the pet for you. He’s great at giving a woman what she needs, not what she thinks she wants…”
She handed Alice her documents back and slid a key across the desk, a bold metal 7 hanging from the ring. Alice picked it up, her hand trembling slightly, and walked toward the hall. The air was warmer there, humming faintly with muffled sounds, breathy laughter, distant moans, seeping from behind closed doors. The hallway was long, dimly lit by golden sconces, each door identical except for the metal numbers fixed at eye level. As she passed door four, the low rhythm of pleasure made her stop, her cheeks burning. She forced herself onward, her pulse quickening as she reached door seven. The key slid into the lock with a soft metallic scrape. Alice took one last deep breath, twisted the knob, and pushed the door open.
When Alice stepped into the room, she wasn’t sure what she had expected. It wasn’t large, but it had clearly been designed with pleasure in mind. To her left, one corner was tiled. Sleek and glossy under the soft lighting. A toilet stood discreetly against one wall, a shower beside it, and in the middle sat a wide tub, deep and luxurious, large enough to comfortably accommodate three people. Where the tile met the carpet, she noticed a metal track that matched one on the ceiling, a folded partition ready to slide across and divide the space if privacy was ever wanted.
On the other side, the room shifted from sterile to indulgent. The carpet was a soft white, low-pile, and plush under her shoes. Against the wall sat a long couch, inviting, and near the far window stood a wide bed, neatly dressed in crisp sheets that almost glowed under the muted light. Alice lowered herself onto the couch, her eyes fixed on the bed as though it were already part of her future. She slid her feet out of her shoes. Her breathing grew deeper, shakier, nerves tangling with desire until a wet heat began to stir between her thighs. She was alone for the moment. Soon, a man would join her. A stranger. And he would become only the second man to ever have sex with her.
A nervous laugh slipped from her lips at the thought. He would also be the second man she’d ever seen naked in person, if she didn’t count catching a glimpse of her dad in the shower once during the haze of morning sickness. Her mind spun. Should she take her clothes off now? Or wait for this, Lucky? After a long moment of indecision, she decided to wait for him. A soft knock came at the door. Alice shot to her feet, heart hammering, and crossed the room. When she opened it, a tall man stood waiting, his presence filling the doorway. He didn’t step inside until her subtle gesture gave permission. He was shirtless, his skin smooth and lightly tanned, the muscles of his chest and arms toned without being overdone. Around his neck rested a black leather collar, a gleaming tag hanging from it with the single word: Lucky.
“Lucky?” she asked, her voice soft and uncertain.
He nodded. She stepped back, letting him enter, and as he passed, her gaze dropped to his butt, only then realizing he was completely naked apart from the collar. Her breath caught. She stared openly as he turned to face her, the door clicking shut behind him. He wasn’t sculpted like a model, but had the raw, lived-in strength of the hot neighbor who worked shirtless on his car every afternoon. His chest was smooth and hairless, his shoulders broad, his stomach flat but not rigid. Her eyes dropped lower, lingering on his cock. Soft now, not particularly large. She thought maybe he relied on other skills to please his clients.
“Would you like to strip yourself,” he asked, his voice a deep, resonant rumble that made something flutter down her throat and into her belly, “or do you want me to do it as foreplay?”
“You can,” she squeaked, surprised by the smallness of her own voice.
His lips curved into a knowing smile. “How would you like me? On top? On the bottom? Behind? We can use the bathroom, the bed… the couch. It’s all your choice.”
Alice stammered, her cheeks burning, then forced herself to speak. “Undress me like we’re lovers. Then… go down on me while I’m standing.” She took a deep breath, remembering her friend’s advice. To know what she wanted before he asked. “When I struggle to stand, take me to the bed and make love to me from behind. And… touch my breasts a lot.” Her body trembled as he stepped closer, his presence washing over her like heat.
“Yes, mistress,” he murmured with a hungry smile, his eyes locking onto hers.
He stepped forward, closing the space between them until she could feel the heat of his bare skin against hers. Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her neck, kissing slowly, deliberately. Alice sighed, tilting her head to give him more, heat rushing to her core. His hand slid her dress off one shoulder, and his mouth followed the path, kissing tenderly around the strap of her bra.
A needy groan slipped from her lips. She reached down with trembling fingers and wrapped her hand around his cock. He gave a soft sound of approval, his body pressing closer as he slid the dress from her other shoulder. The fabric fell in a whisper, pooling at her feet. The cool air kissed her bare skin, sending shivers of anticipation racing down her body. In her grip, his cock stirred, stiffening, lengthening, swelling in her palm. She gasped when she glanced down and saw it nearly double in size, already thicker and longer than her husband’s.
“Yeah,” he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, “ladies love to watch it get big. That’s why I try to stay soft as long as I can.” He kissed her again, his hands gliding around her back to unhook her bra. “But I couldn’t hold back when I saw those cute pink panties.”
Her bra loosened and fell away. He cupped her B-cup breasts, kneading them gently before lowering his mouth to them. She had to release his cock, her hands hovering uselessly as he lavished her chest with attention. His lips and tongue teased, his fingers rolling one nipple while his mouth closed around the other. Her nipples tightened into aching peaks, each tug and flick sending waves of desire through her belly. When his teeth grazed gently, she moaned, arching toward him. His hands trailed lower, slow and deliberate, smoothing down her sides. His kisses followed, painting a path over her toned stomach. Hooking his fingers into her waistband, he dragged her panties downward, inch by inch, until they too joined the pile on the floor. He pressed his lips to the bare skin just below where the fabric had been, kissing again and again as if memorizing her. Alice trembled, instinctively spreading her feet.
He steadied her hips in his strong hands, then lowered his mouth to kiss the outer lips of her pussy. The contact made her shiver. Bare skin against bare lips. Then his tongue slipped between her folds, slow and thorough, running from her entrance up to her clit.
She moaned, louder this time, when he caught her clit between his lips and sucked gently. His mouth worked in teasing, deliberate motions, his tongue circling and flicking while his hands anchored her. The pleasure built quickly, too quickly, until a small orgasm rolled through her. Her knees buckled, but he held her firm, keeping her upright as tremors shook her body.
When the waves subsided, he stood, rising to kiss her breasts again, his lips lingering on her sensitive skin. She was left trembling. Her breath is uneven and ragged. A spark of disappointment flickered. Yes, it had been nice, but no different from what her husband could give. Nothing compared to the intensity she could coax from herself in the dark with just her fingers.
He didn’t give her long to linger on the thought. Taking her hand, he led her to the bed, the sheets soft and cool beneath her. He guided her onto all fours, positioning her on her hands and knees as he stood behind her. Alice’s chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, anticipation twisting with concern.
She gasped when the head of his cock pressed against her pussy, sliding slowly along her slit. The slick glide made her moan, her body responding even as her nerves fluttered. He paused at her entrance, his hands firm on her ass, holding her still.
“Are you ready?” His voice was low, thick with hunger. Demanding, possessive, like he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“God, yes,” she squeaked, her voice breaking with need. “Fuck me, please.”
She felt the pressure at her entrance increase. Slow at first, then insistent. His head slipped inside her suddenly, and he paused. Alice moaned sharply at the intrusion. The stretch was almost unbearable, her walls gripping him as her body struggled to adjust. His hands rubbed her hips and ass in soothing circles while he drew back, nearly sliding free. Just as panic rose that he might pull out completely, he changed direction and pushed back in, slow, steady. Each moment of friction sent guilty, needy pleasure rolling through her. He stopped again, only a few inches inside, holding her in place as if savoring her impatience. Then he pulled back, leaving her nearly empty, before sliding those same few inches into her again.
Her nerves screamed for more. She desperately wanted him to bury himself fully inside her, but his grip on her hips was iron. He controlled this moment. He would fuck her on his terms. Alice arched her back, offering herself, pleading silently. One of his hands slid forward, cupping her breast. She felt the heat of his chest against her back as he rolled his hips, shallow thrusts stoking the tension inside her. Moans spilled from her lips, louder with each movement, as pleasure coiled low in her belly, delicate and tight.
He picked up speed, but still only worked a few inches of her, stroking her mercilessly without giving her the fullness she craved. The teasing drove her wild until the tension snapped. Her orgasm broke through in a rush, sharp and undeniable. He froze inside her, holding her tightly, steadying her trembling body as the waves of release tore through her.
When it subsided, dread flickered. Would he stop now? True, he had already outdone her husband. Which was all she was here for. But she wanted more. She wanted him deeper. An orgasm greater than she could give herself, something that would ruin her for anything else.
He kissed along her back, kneading her breasts in his big hands. She bit her lip, fighting the urge to beg, when at last he began to move again. The shallow strokes returned, teasing her with the first few inches of his cock. Her moans turned high-pitched and needy, a squeaky frustration spilling from her throat. The pleasure built faster this time, his pace steady, deliberate, unrelenting. Her sounds only spurred him on. He dragged her torso upright, chest to back, so he could kiss her neck while he pumped into her. Then, without warning, he drove himself deep. Slamming into her until he hit her inner wall.
Alice shattered. Her orgasm ripped through her body like lightning, and this time, he didn’t stop. He didn't let her ride it to a slow ebb. He kept thrusting, harder and faster, pounding her back wall with each deep stroke. Her scream broke loose, wild and raw, as her body convulsed. She felt her orgasmic fluids squirting out with each thrust, splattering against the sheets below. She had only managed to rub herself into squirting once before. And it had been nothing like this.
The world dissolved into heat and sound. His rhythm held her trapped inside the orgasm, stretching it beyond reason. Minutes, hours, eternity, she couldn’t tell. Nothing else existed. Not the room, not the bed, not her doubts. Only his warm, hard muscles wrapped around her. Only his thick cock slamming inside her. Only the mind-numbing orgasm he was fucking into existence, over and over again.
He pushed deep, burying himself fully inside her, and held there. Alice felt the heavy pulse of his cock as it throbbed within her, the last tremors of release drawing out her own. Their orgasms ebbed together, wave after wave subsiding until only exhaustion and warmth remained. At last, he slipped free, leaving her empty, her body shuddering at the loss. Without a word, he slid an arm around her waist and lifted her easily into his arms. He carried her across the room and sat on the couch, lowering her carefully onto his lap.
“The bed’s a little wet,” he murmured, his voice low and breathless. She giggled softly and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
"You finished in me." She said softly.
"Don't worry. All the pets here are fixed." He kissed her neck. "Only pleasure for mistress." His arms held her close, strong and protective, and the exhaustion washing over her nearly pulled her into sleep.
====================
“It’s nearly eleven,” he said quietly after twenty or thirty minutes.
Alice sighed. She knew exactly what that meant. The three hours she had paid for were nearly gone. Reluctantly, she let him guide her to her feet. She bent to pick up her panties, but he gently took them from her hands. Kneeling before her, he kissed her calf, then her thigh, as he lifted one leg at a time to slip the panties back on. He slid the fabric slowly upward, his lips brushing her skin along the way until the thin material hugged her hips again. Rising, he reached for her bra, kissing each nipple in turn before settling the cups into place. His hands moved with practiced ease, but the kisses he placed on her neck as he fastened the clasps felt tender, personal. Finally, he lifted her dress, shaking it out before pulling it over her head and letting it fall back into place. He kissed her lips, lingering, soft, before folding her into one last embrace.
A small bell chimed in the hall. Alice half expected him to shift instantly into something colder, professional, as if the illusion of intimacy had to end on the clock. But instead, he remained gentle, holding her hand as they walked together to the door. He opened it for her, his eyes soft as she stepped back into the corridor.
Around them, other doors opened. Women emerged from their sessions, filing toward the lobby. Most looked satisfied, glowing with release. Others looked embarrassed and guilty. Others carried themselves with casual ease, unbothered. A few, like Alice, bore open joy on their faces, flushed, smiling, fulfilled.
She returned the key to the desk, offering the receptionist a quiet thank you. As she stepped back out into the night air, her thoughts tangled. Would her husband want to know the details? Would it turn him on to hear what Lucky had done to her? Or would he prefer to pretend it had never happened? Either way, Alice knew something fundamental had shifted today. Her marriage was changed forever. And in her heart, one thought burned brighter than the rest. She really hoped he would let her see Lucky again soon.