Page 7 of The Player's Club
The black-haired woman spread her legs wide, showing the pink of her bare pussy. I accepted a pint of beer from a server, taking in the scene and letting every other thought disappear from my mind.
The blonde sucked the guy’s cock faster now. The man wrapped a clump full of her hair around his fist and pulled her head down until she choked. I felt the sound deep in my balls. When he let her up for air, she gave him an adoring gaze while saliva dripped down her chin. Meanwhile, the other woman inched in, climbing on top of his lap while the blonde moved to sit on his face. The raven-haired woman threw her head back, riding the guy’s cock hard, her full breasts bouncing. And my mind wandered back to the server. She’d had black hair, albeit it had been neatly pinned high up on her head like a ballerina. What would she look like with her hair down? I could imagine it falling to her waist, how easy it would be to use as a handhold as I fucked her from behind—
I gritted my teeth. Leave her alone. There are plenty of women here for playtime. She’s not one of them.
But even as I tried to separate my thoughts of the server from the scene in front of me, I couldn’t. The black-haired woman let out a scream as she orgasmed, and I wondered if the server ever let herself get loud during sex. The guy grabbed a leather crop and spanked the blonde until her skin heated red, and I wondered what my handprint would look like on the server’s bare ass.
I was so lost in my head, I didn’t even notice that the trio had finished. They were kissing and caressing now, the man’s cock starting to go soft.
I placed my empty beer down on a table and headed out, hard as a fucking rock. I was tempted to find the first woman—or women—I could and fuck them all until I got whatever this was out of my system.But despite my best intentions, I found myself looking for the pretty, black-haired server. It didn’t take long for me to find her. She was behind the bar, a handful of men vying for her attention.It wasn’t surprising patrons gravitated toward a newbie, even when she wasn’t here to play. Couldn’t say I blamed them. Something about her had hooked me from the moment I looked into her eyes.
I couldn’t even say she was the most beautiful woman here. Yet something about her was captivating. Perhaps it was that she seemed strangely innocent in a literal den of iniquity. There was something so hot about that.
When I approached the group of guys drooling over her, they stepped aside without me saying a word. Everybody—except this pretty little server—knew who I was. That was a rare find.
She raised an eyebrow as the other guys scattered in opposite directions.
“Did you just get rid of all my customers?” she asked, sounding a little annoyed.
I shot her a grin, placing a nice stack of bills on the counter. “Don’t worry, angel. I’ll make sure you’re well tipped tonight.”
She snorted, but I detected a blush crawl up her cheeks.
When was the last time I saw a woman blush? I couldn’t remember. The women I spent time with were never shy. They’d been around places like this for too long to ever be embarrassed. She was definitely out of her element.
Caroline had always told me that being shameless in the bedroom had given her confidence, and even calm, with the other parts of her life. I never get frazzled, she’d said more than once. What’s to get frazzled over when a man whipped and pegged me only last night?
“Do you want something to drink?” the server asked, forcing me to push the memories away.
“No thanks, but I would like your name.”
She wrinkled her nose, then glanced down at her bra. “I guess this getup doesn’t work with a name tag.”
“I think the getup is just perfect the way it is.”
“My name is Elodie.” She shot me a shy glance. “Now, do I get to ask you a question?”
Elodie. I rolled the sound of the name inside my head. Pretty. It suited her.
“Ask away,” I replied, leaning against the bar.
“What were you doing—” She nodded toward the back of the club. “Back there?”
I stilled. You’d think in a place like this I wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about talking about my predilections, but it was an old habit. I’d been so used to judgment, even disgust, that I preferred to keep shit vague until I knew somebody understood. You don’t necessarily talk about what you do here. You just do it.
Besides, this woman seemed like an innocent little lamb compared to the other patrons here.
“I like watching,” was my vague reply.
“Watching? Watching what, exactly?”
Her eyes were wide, her tone a little breathless. She was adorable—and naive. “Have you ever been in a place like this before?” I asked.
“Is it that obvious?”
Considering she seemed to be struggling to turn on the tap for a patron’s beer . . . “A little bit,” I said gently.
“Well, pretty sure it’ll be my last day here. While you were watching Netflix in the back—”