Page 14 of Just Past Two

“You don’t have to say yes,” he said quickly. “If you’re not comfortable, we can call this whole thing off. Or I can share a different fantasy.”

Abby shook her head. “No. I’m game.”

“You ever been to a sex club before?”

She gave a short laugh. “Definitely not.”

“All right.” He pulled out his phone. “How’s next weekend?”

…

This definitely wasn’t what Abby had pictured when Sam had mentioned sex club. This wasn’t a nightclub, or a seedy-looking building with a bouncer out front, and there were no bright neon signs or anything to give away the purpose at all. But the address on Sam’s phone matched this nondescript brownstone building in front of them, right on the outskirts of Cambridge, not far from fucking Harvard itself.

“This looks like somebody’s house.” She glanced around at all the other businesses on the block. “You sure we’re at the right place?”

“Collette said we wouldn’t recognize it from the outside.” Sam put his phone in his pocket and took her hand. “Come on. Let’s go check it out.”

Abby pulled her long coat more tightly around her and walked with him up the stairs. All week, she’d been waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. The Sam she knew would never have suggested they go to a sex club. She hadn’t even been sure he knew sex clubs actually existed; hell, she’d kind of thought they were legendary as well. Three possibilities existed: either he was into all these things and had been hiding his true self from her, he wasn’t into any of it but doing it to prove something to himself or to her, or maybe he wasn’t sure and was open to trying it out. The first option was unsettling, because it would mean she didn’t know him at all. The second option was frustrating, because it meant he was doing stuff he didn’t like for a stupid reason. The third option, though, was the most intriguing. If he was at least somewhat interested in what they were doing, then maybe Angela was right, and they had some “spice up” potential. Any minute, though, he was probably going to turn around and tell her he wasn’t up for this.

A short, plump young woman waited right inside the front door, at a sort of hostess stand. She looked like she should be selling them a mortgage, all chipper attitude and business attire, with wide, friendly eyes that didn’t fit Abby’s mental image of “person who takes names at a sex club.”

The host scanned through a list of names on her tablet and found them. “It says here you’re first-timers.” She smiled and set her tablet down. “Welcome. I’ll go over the ground rules with you before you go in, and they’re posted in several places in case you forget. First, watching is encouraged, but no touching unless you’re invited to do so. Any form of verbal or physical harassment will result in being removed from the club. We recommend fluid barriers and provide them in each room. Please clean up after yourselves. If you would like a break, this first room you’re going to enter is a designated sex-free lounge. Street-legal dress is required in the lounge, but other than that, beyond this door, clothing choices are up to you. The dungeon on the third floor has its own set of rules posted outside, so please familiarize yourself with those if you’d like to make use of that space. Do you have any questions?”

Abby and Sam looked at each other and shrugged. That all seemed to be pretty much common sense.

“All right, then, here’s a map of the space.” She handed them a photocopied map of the building layout, which someone had labeled by hand to indicate all the various rooms. She tapped a spot on the map. “Right past the lounge are changing rooms and places to store your things if you need them.” She flashed them a bright smile. “Have fun tonight!”

The lounge just past the door was dimly lit, especially after the brightness of the foyer, and Abby stopped short as her eyes adjusted. The music was fairly quiet, too, soft jazz that blended with low sounds of conversation. A few couples were chatting quietly, wrapped in robes or wearing street clothes, one pair just cuddled together on a loveseat. They hung up their coats in the coat closet. Abby had gone with a little black dress for the night, simple and classy, but she’d second-guessed the decision a few times, considering fancy lingerie or something a bit slinkier than this simple cocktail dress. Now, she was happy to be wearing a full outfit. Already, her heart beat in her throat, tight with anticipation and uncertainty. She’d never done anything like this before, and Sam had been pretty vague about his interest.

His hand on the small of her back grounded her. “You ready to go on? Or you want to stay in here for a while?”

At the other end of the room, two changing room doors flanked a central door leading to, presumably, the rest of the club.

“I didn’t come to a sex club to stay in the lounge.” Hopefully she sounded braver than she felt as she took his hand. “Come on.”

Past that door, a pulsing bass beat drowned out the smooth jazz from the lounge. Here was the sight Abby had been expecting. One wall was resplendent with a full bar lit in blue, where a bartender mixed drinks for two completely naked women chatting with him. One section of the room was a dance floor, complete with poles, although no one was dancing. On the other side of the room, couches and love seats hosted numerous couples and small groups, mostly half or completely naked, all engrossed in their partners.

Abby stopped short. The woman at the front had said that watching was encouraged, but no one there was watching. Everyone was…participating. This didn’t feel as sexy as it had at the reunion, when they’d been hiding and trying not to get caught. Her stomach fluttered with a wave of uncertainty, and Sam touched her back once more, just as he had done in the other room.

“You want to get a drink?” he asked.

The bartender greeted them with a warm smile and a nod. He was a handsome guy rocking a full beard and the hipster look, complete with suspenders and bow tie. “First time?” he said loud enough to be heard over the music.

“Is it that obvious?” Abby climbed onto one of the stools near the naked women, who were still there in conversation with each other. Sam sat beside her.

“A little.” The bartender smiled. “But don’t worry. It’s everybody’s first time at some point.” He extended a hand. “I’m Bill. I own the place.”

They introduced themselves as Abby’s jitters settled into a low background hum instead of intense quaking. They ordered drinks, and finally, Abby let herself look around in more detail. She couldn’t hear much over the music, and maybe that was the point. People could lose themselves in here, in the patterned lights and the throbbing bass line.

Bill passed them their drinks across the counter. “You know, if you want something a bit less noisy, keep heading down the hall. The next room might be more your speed. Feel free to take your drinks.”

Sam paid and tipped, sliding close enough to put an arm around Abby’s waist. “Let’s go check it out,” he said.

As soon as the door closed behind them, leaving them in a short hallway, the music sounds faded down to just the pulsing bass. This hallway had two doors on each side, each bearing a sign. The first door on both sides was labeled “to be watched,” and the second, “to watch.” At the end of the hallway, a single unlabeled door led into the room beyond, and that’s where Abby headed.

The quiet sounds of sex hit her ears before anything else. Something about that noise thrummed a chord inside her, lighting fireworks along her nerves even with no one touching her. This room was as large as the previous one, lit by dim lights and candles, with two king-sized beds and a handful of couches. Caught up in the events happening in front of her, Abby edged over to an empty couch and sat. She took one sip of her drink and set it aside, drawn instead to this scene.

On the bed closest to her, a woman lay stretched out, naked, her long brown hair loose across the pillow. A man lay alongside her, his mouth on her breast, his other hand gently tweaking her other nipple, completely focused on her body. They weren’t alone, though; another man knelt between her legs, holding her thighs apart, working her over with his mouth.