Page 136 of Pandora's Pleasure
It made me wonder what kind of things he liked to do when he visited. Maybe he, too, had taken a stranger like that in the middle of a hallway for all to see.
We paused before a purple door.
Inside the room my eyes adjusted to the dim light and I blinked at the large bed covered in a purple silk sheet. Two men wearing tuxedos and a woman in a long green gown sat on the edge, talking softly. All three of them wore masks. A few other couples had gathered around apparently to watch them.
We huddled in the farthest corner, close enough to see but far enough away to not draw attention.
This is what Damien meant—my thoughts flashed back to the footage Madeline had shown me on her phone at the hotel. The same evening she’d told me that Damien loved this adult playground. Inspiring me to learn more.Be more.
“Madeline told you,” I whispered.
“We can leave if you want.”
“No.”
His palm traced my spine. “It’s going to get explicit.”
We were about to watch the scene play out before us. A thrill in my solar plexus felt like sparking electricity had fused with my soul.
All three of them stood and began removing their clothes, the men helping each other remove their tuxedos and then helping the woman strip out of her gown. One of them eased off her heels as the other leaned in for a kiss, their sensuality deeply touching.
She sat between them on the edge of the bed as they explored her body, their hands tracing over her pert nipples and tweaking them. Their cocks erect now as they took their time surveying her nakedness.
Both of them eased apart her labia as though wanting to expose more of her to the crowd. Complying, she parted her thighs to show her glistening sex, her legs trembling as they ran their hands over her and played with her pussy, dipping fingers and teasing her labia. One held her folds open while the other played with that small swollen nub, gentle fingers flicking as knowing looks were exchanged between them.
Hidden in the shadows, I hoped no one looked our way, because for a second my hand had slapped to my chest in shock. It was erotic and brazen and daring…and arousing. Already the dampness between my legs revealed how turned on I was.
“You okay?” Damien’s voice was almost imperceptible.
I managed a nod, my attention riveted on the ménage à trois.
The masked beauty was on her knees now with the men before her, dipping her head to take in one cock and then the other with her wide-open mouth—her hands working where her mouth had left off in a hypnotic rhythm set in motion as she deep-throated them in turn.
In an explosion of passion, the men grabbed her up and ravaged her body, their mouths exploring every inch of her. Writhing together, the three bodies merged as they moved in sync upon the bed, all hands and mouths, stroking and tasting.
One of the men reached down for his jacket, removing a small object. Then he smeared something on his finger…lube. His fingertip reached between her ass crack to smear the clear gel there and then he took her from behind, thrusting deeply until he’d buried himself inside her. Their lover moved swiftly to lay next to her, his erection disappearing as he thrust into her pussy, joining them.
Just as I’d been spellbound by the footage, I was mesmerized here, seeing it in real time and being part of this erotic display. My heart soared when I saw that familiar look she offered to her lovers—a wanton gratitude for being taken so well by these masked men—her eyes darting to one and then the other. It was as though no one else was here. All three were too lost in each other to care about their audience.
The woman seemed enraptured as she neared orgasm, groaning loudly, her thighs shaking as she writhed between them.
My sigh matched hers as she came hard.
Damien took my hand and pulled me from the room.
“Well?” he whispered.
Leaning into him, I said quietly, “No words.”
“Want to take it up a notch?”
“Yes!”
I wondered exactly what he meant, but was too aroused to care. Both of us hurried down the hallway until we made it to another door.
What happens in the Blue Room?
The answer was soon revealed as we entered a dark dungeon, the furniture and contraptions unmistakably for BDSM. Only one other couple was present—a masked, naked submissive was secured to the Saint Andrew’s Cross with the back padded for comfort. She was being whipped by a male bare-chested master. Red welts covered her flesh. Proof of her arousal glistened between her damp thighs.
