Chapter 1
privacy glass
Emerald
I always say that one day I’ll get out of my own head and do something unexpected.
Who knows? I may even like it. I might even do it twice.
I could argue that becoming a member at a kink club and attending regularly was unexpected, but since I am too nervous to live out any of my fantasies, I haven’t.
Tonight will be that night.
My first visit to Lilith’s was years ago with an ex-boyfriend who brought me here to “shake things up.” His eyes understandably wandered, as did mine. He didn’t like the thought of anyone watching me—but I did.
At least, I thought I did. So I mentioned it, hoping he’d be open minded, but I was wrong. He shot it down immediately and never looked at me the same after. The shame it made me feel forced me bury it deep, but I couldn’t let it go.
Each time we visited the club, he’d lead me to a private room to do the same mundane shit we did back home. I couldn’t help but think about people outside the door indulging in their darkest fantasies and how I could too, if I broke it off—so I did.
Today, I learned my ex is getting married only a year after we split, and his fiancée wants to hire our event planning firm for their wedding. It’s safe to say that I needed more than a drink, so I’m here determined to do something out of the ordinary.
Sexual compatibility is important in relationships, but many of us settle for what’s familiar out of fear of the unknown or starting over. Life is too damn short to lay under someone who won’t compromise in the bedroom. Everyone deserves to find a partner who’ll match their freak; even me.
A freak in theory, rather than practice.
I imagine I’d have never known what else I was interested in had I not set foot in this club. I witnessed established couples and complete strangers fucking with more passion than we had; it was eye opening. I wouldn’t say that I haven’t moved on, but I’m still afraid to ask for what I want.
The black bracelet that graces my wrist faithfully has failed to shield me from unwanted attention, and that’s no one’s fault but mine.
I wanted to learn who I was without judgement, and this has allowed me to do so without anyone interfering.
A declaration that usually stands out is camouflaged by my far-from-subtle little black dress.
The shimmering fabric hugs my curves in all the right places, and the short hem shows off my thick thighs, putting me on display in a way that makes me feel self-conscious.
The sheer cropped jacket with furry cuffs drapes over my shoulders and leaves nothing to the imagination, judging by the eyes of passersby.
I war with myself over whether I should swap to a different color, but as I try to recall the meaning of the other colors, I fall short. Once I discovered the color that let me be invisible, black was an easy choice.
I roll up my furry cuffs and try to remember where the signs on each floor are that list the ground rules and color codes of each bracelet, setting off to find one.
I was raised right and know it isn’t polite to gawk at others, especially when they’re in compromising positions, but that’s easier said than done in a place like this.
The confidence that oozes off members while relishing in the moment is something I can’t look away from.
It’s something I have always both envied and fantasized about for myself.
I soon stumble across a sign about the colors, accompanied by a basket of bracelets, and sigh in relief. I chew my lip in contemplation and hover my hand over the basket as I consider what journey I’d like to embark on tonight.
Black if you’re off-limits.
Red if you’re only watching.
Blue if you’re self-pleasuring.
Orange if you’re interested in sex with one partner.
Yellow if you’re interested in multiple partners.
Green if you are open to whoever or whatever.
I wasn’t prepared for a change of plans, but if I must retire the invisible cloak, I suppose I could watch or have some “me time.” Maybe tonight is that night.
I’ll admit that I have always been curious about exhibitionism, and while I have come close, I’ve never actually joined the party. There are different ways you can explore this kink here based on your comfort level, and I can appreciate that.
Voyeurism, on the other hand, came naturally to me because I’m nosy as fuck and have no shame about it. Nosiness is widely celebrated at Lilith’s and if nothing else, I’ve found my people.
I take a deep breath, retrieve a bracelet, and proceed down the hall in search of the elevator.
Blue it is. Let’s see where this takes me.
The thought of being admired in front of an audience turns me on, but my nerves always get the best of me, so I haven’t explored it. Even though I don’t embrace all of the possibilities of my membership, I know I can at any time.
Like right now.
I’ve always been drawn to the voyeur theater, but each time I come close, I get too in my head and quicken my pace, opting for something more private.
I’ve never felt brave enough to lay bare with an audience.
Fear makes you miss out on opportunities that won't necessarily hurt you, but might strengthen you.
If there’s anywhere I am free to explore my sexuality, it’s here, I remind myself.
I am deserving of pleasure in any way I prefer and I recognize I’ve lost sight of that since the breakup.
The best advice I’ve received recently was to do things while scared, but, unfortunately, I have anxiety and am always afraid of something.
Ten minutes tops, I tell myself as I stand outside the open doors to the theater. The large stage is decorated to resemble their private rooms, covered by a dome in the middle of the viewing area; members sat around it to enjoy the show.
I enter the dark theater to find a scene has already begun, and consider an empty seat in the back when an open row up front beckons me.
The signage introduces the performers as Mr. R with his partners, Bri and Anita.
One look at them, and I know good and well that I’ll be here longer than ten minutes. So I might as well get comfortable.
I grab a seat in the front row and settle in, eyeing the signs with the show rules and instructions about the controls beneath the armrest. The man of the hour kneels at the edge of the bed with his face buried between the thighs of his lucky partner, stroking his thick length as he admires the other woman sitting on her face, crying out in pleasure.
He’s tall and built with umber skin and broad shoulders I could imagine resting on as he devoured me exactly like that.
He is undoubtedly one of the finest men I have ever seen, and likely old enough to be my father.
However, I’m a romance reader who loves an age gap and older men can be fine as hell.
It’s a proven fact.
It wasn’t just him that mesmerized me, but the women too. Two gorgeous women, with curls, brown skin, and full curves like mine on display, for us. It makes me wonder if I could ever get to a point of comfort like them.
He admires their bodies as if they’re the only ones in this packed room, chasing nothing but pleasure.
Witnessing them please each other is both an honor and a life-altering experience that has me questioning every partner I’ve ever had.
Mr. R is so attentive, while being commanding in a way that makes me want to obey.
I study the women before me, granting his requests without question, and my curiosity is piqued.
“Bend over.” “Taste her.” “Kiss her.” “Ride me,” are demands flowing from his full lips.
With every command of his gruff voice, I throb with need.
Once he orders them to play with themselves, I take that as an invitation to seek relief.
I raise the hem of my dress, just enough to reach into my damp panties.
I smear my arousal over my needy clit, sinking further into the chair as a loud moan escapes me.
Oops.
Curious heads turn in my direction, free of judgement as I tend to his every word. Pretending I, too, am on that stage, blocking out the crowd while being encouraged to come.
My orgasm builds and I quicken my pace, tossing my head back as my free hand wraps around the armrest for leverage tightly. When I glance up, I freeze as Mr. R stares right back at me.
Well, hello to you too.
In a hurry, I halt my movements and we eye each other for a moment.
His gaze is intense and filled with desire, as if it isn’t his first time laying eyes on me, and it melts away my thoughts.
I assess his toned body, sweat shimmering on his deep brown skin beneath the lights, but his strokes don’t falter. He eyes me hungrily while thrusting into one woman and toying with the other’s clit.
Apparently I’m the type to follow orders, so I do the same, rubbing hurried circles over my needy bud, parting my lips in a silent plea as I feel my climax building again.
I’m about to come in a room full of strangers for a man I don’t even know.
He thrusts harder, his free hand coaxing the other woman’s orgasm free, leaving me on the edge of my seat. His head tilts toward me, offering a permissive nod, and I let go without another thought, shattering instantly.
My acrylic nails claw at the empty seat beside me as I struggle to catch my breath. I look up in time to witness her reach her peak as he fucks her through it, biting and sucking on her dark nipples with their partner.
Oh my God.
He glances over to me with a devious smirk as he pulls out, slapping his dick against her core and ordering the other women to lay back. She sprawls out on the bed while the other woman sits on her face, greeting him with a wail as he plunges into her.
I raise my fingers to my mouth, sucking them clean, and the “good girl” that rolls off his tongue sends a chill through me. My free hand smooths the hem of my dress into place and I straighten my spine, allowing myself to relax and enjoy the show I never knew I needed to see.
I imagine myself on that stage receiving pleasure unlike anything I’ve ever experienced. I’ve never been with a woman, let alone two, or a man who fucks like that. I’m one of those bisexuals who’ll see an attractive person, psych myself up, and let them leave without saying a fucking word to them.
As if he can read my mind, his head tilts in invitation, and I want to pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming. I decline the offer, shaking my head quickly as regret settles in my gut. He nods assuredly, directing his focus back onto his partners, giving as much as he takes from them.
I stare in awe as the show goes on, imagining what would happen if I’d said “yes” instead.
Next time, I will—if I’m lucky enough.