Holy mother of god. I was going to a sex party with a gay guy in just a few hours. If that wasn’t the craziest thing.
What was also crazy was, since Devon had given me the heave-ho, how many of our friends had followed his lead. My two girl-buddies from Pilates class had conveniently taken spots on the other side of the room from where we usually worked out together. The charity fundraiser I was involved with suddenly had all the volunteers it needed, and my weekly girls’ lunch had been mysteriously cancelled, to be rescheduled for a future, unknown date. One they’d conveniently forget to tell me about, I suspected.
Was I surprised? No, not really. Was I hurt? I supposed so. But like I told Devon, this group of people liked its money more tha
n its friends. Without money, they didn’t want me. It was that simple.
They could all rot in hell. I had better things on my mind.
I didn’t exactly know what to expect of the sex party, but I knew I wanted to look my best. Apparently not even a broken heart trumped my vanity. I still stung badly thanks to Devon’s betrayal, but the kiss I’d gotten from Blu’s handsome partner Ash, even though it was kind of a quickie, had just about bowled me over. I didn’t think Devon had ever kissed me like that, so softly, all exploration, while also giving me the chance to red or green light it. And Ash’s dark and exotic looks only added to the thrill. I didn’t know him well, but I did know he was part of a very successful partnership of guys who’d been together at college. They were a popular group of single men and handsome enough to look like they walked out of an Abercrombie ad or something. It was just amazing.
I’m sure they were big hits with the ladies. Being a married woman myself, I didn’t really pay attention to that stuff.
Although, it looked like I was maybe going to start.
The painting Ash had bought had been my absolute favorite in the gallery. I would be lying if I didn’t admit to being a bit envious. I would also be lying if I didn’t say I was looking forward to helping him hang it in his apartment.
Before I left home, the one I supposed I might be evicted from, I smoothed down the front of my red Diane von Furstenberg wrap dress, making sure my thong left no visible lines under it. I adjusted my strappy skyscraper heels. I would be towering over Blu, which always seemed funny to me. Not so much to him.
At nine o’clock sharp, just as Blu had instructed, the limo dropped me at the party. I climbed several steps to a plain blue door and rang the bell. I was greeted by a woman in a bustier, stockings, and high heels. Her makeup looked like something out of a Cirque du Soleil show, always a favorite of mine.
I wondered if I could try a look like that.
“Baby!” Blu screamed, running toward me with his arms out. Standing on his toes, he gave me a big hug, which was exactly what I needed at that moment.
He looked me up and down. “You look fucking hot, girl. You could have any guy here you wanted. But we know that’s not what you are here for.” He winked and gave me his best smirk.
Smart ass.
He was right, though. Men were not what I was there for. It was all about due diligence. Making smart business decisions. Nothing more.
He took my hand, and we passed through several gossamer curtains hanging from the ceiling, fluttering in the room’s slight breeze. We entered a foyer of sorts, and when we turned the corner, I found what I’d been waiting for.
I had to be honest. I’d Googled sex clubs. I had to learn what I could before I set foot in one. Turned out they were all over the damn place.
Newsflash.
Had I been out of the loop, or what?
I’d had a boyfriend after college try to tell me he’d once been to one with a wealthy, older lady. He said they’d gotten there and been required to remove their clothes. They wore towels the rest of the night.
As you can imagine, I told him he was full of shit. Why didn’t he just try to sell me the Brooklyn Bridge while he was at it?
Now I felt kind of bad about doubting him. Not that bad, though. He’d turned out to be a cheater, just like my husband.
And now, I was at a sex club. A freaking sex club. With my gay best friend, who—by the way—hosted the parties with a group of straight men who were part of my social circle. Or what was left of it.
How bizarre was that? And what if I ran into someone I knew?
Whatever. I had nothing to hide. I was there for business.
But when we turned the corner, what I saw before me made my wobble in my high heels.
In the center of the small room we entered—the lofty space seemed to be broken into cozy little rooms—was a big, round sofa. In the middle of it was a man going to town on a woman whose dress was pushed up to her waist. As he licked and sucked her, he ran his hands over her hips and ass in a smooth motion that increased her writhing pleasure. I’d only watched a porno once before, before Devon had gotten up and turned it off in disgust. To be honest, I’d wanted to see more but was too embarrassed to speak up at the time.
So here I was now, watching two other people go at it, live and in person. And when I glanced around the room, I realized they weren’t the only ones having some fun.
I felt a nudge against my elbow.