Chapter Twelve
My One Not-So-Guilty Pleasure
Gabe
Watching Luke and Kaden go at it the other night, with my arms around Ender, sparked an idea.
I’ve never invited a friend to come with me to the club, nevertheless someone I was hooking up with.
Is that what this is with Ender? I feel like it’s more, but he’s so guarded that I’m not sure it is for him.
I decided to take the chance, hoping he will enjoy this, and I’m not backing out. If this brings out that lust-filled expression he had on his face from the other night one more time, I’m willing to introduce him to my one private indulgence.
The next day, I booked our reservation at the club for this evening and told him to clear his calendar. He wasn’t very happy about the secrecy, but he agreed to put his trust in me, and that means a lot coming from him.
When we came home after the bar, we didn’t mess around at all.
Ender had too much to drink and had fallen asleep in my bed in the few minutes I spent in the bathroom freshening up—it was nice just lying next to him.
I thought I would hate having another body in my bed, especially since Ender sleeps like an octopus with its tentacles around me all night, but I had the best night’s sleep of my life, despite the sweaty mess from the extra body heat on me.
I’m thankful he didn’t talk in his sleep this time—it would’ve made me want to know more than he’s willing to tell me right now.
It feels as if I’m invading his privacy when he does it.
The night on the couch, he was distraught during a dream, reliving an altercation with what sounded like a man, but the only name he said was Sally.
I would’ve never asked him about it, given how even more closed off he was after the incident with Matt.
The doorbell rings, and my stomach does the flippy thing, something totally unfamiliar to me.
I never get excited to see anyone who isn’t Luke or my parents.
When I open the door, I nearly choke—Ender looks downright pornographic dressed up.
He has the sleeves of his black button-down shirt rolled up with the blue phoenix tattoo on his forearm on full display.
His black slim-fit slacks leave little to the imagination as they show off his slender physique, and I feel my jaw goes slack.
The sad emo boy from a month ago stands in front of me now, with that beautiful smile lighting me up inside.
He’s so clueless about its effect on me, and I can’t help the quiet satisfaction I feel at knowing that I may be part of the reason.
“Am I dressed okay for wherever we’re going?” Ender’s nervousness starts to show as he smooths out his clothes.
“More than okay. I need you to wait outside, or we may not leave the house.”
He laughs as if I’m joking.
I grab my coat and keys without letting him through the door, dead-ass serious about him not stepping foot in this house until later tonight.
The ride to the club is about thirty minutes and with Ender asking me where we’re going in fifteen different ways to see if I’ll tell him, it goes by quickly.
We walk up to the club entrance, which is a two-story brick building with a discreet black door and no signs anywhere in sight.
Ender’s bewildered expression and inquisitive eyes as we skip the line of people waiting to get in, the doorman nodding and opening the door with no questions asked.
Chuckling under my breath, I pull him in closer for a brief kiss. “This will be fun, I promise.”
The main room is similar to the average nightclub with multiple bars, a dance floor, and a balcony overlooking it all. The place is already a little crowded, but we head to the semi-private VIP lounge on the second floor.
“Did you take me out to dance at a club…to this kind of music?” He sounds even more confused than before.
“No, Ender. I didn’t take you out to dance.” He frowns at me.
When the server delivers our second round of drinks.
I notice the tapping of his foot and the lack of eye contact mid-conversation.
“You bored yet?”
His eyes meet mine in a panic. “I’m not. This is fun.”
My lips quirk at his attempt to make me feel better. “Ender, we’re not here for this.” I entwine our fingers as we stand and leave our table.
I lead him to the back of the room and down the hall, toward the area off-limits to anyone without membership.
“What’s behind mystery door number two? A ’70s disco?”
“Better, if you keep an open mind.” He reads the seriousness in my statement with ease, confirming with a slight nod.
Once my access card unlocks the door, I squeeze Ender’s hand again. The doorman on the other side nods and lets us past, and Ender’s curiosity takes over as he walks through the door without further encouragement.
At first glance, he should have some sort of idea what we just walked into, seeing couches scattered around the room with couples in different stages of intimacy and a small crowd ahead of us.
Ender takes the lead, moving slowly up to the circle in the middle of the room.
I carefully watch his reaction to what he’s about to see—it should tell me whether we’re staying or leaving.
My gut feeling was right—the hesitation from earlier is gone—Ender seems eager to get a front-row seat to the show, slipping through the gaps between the other couples watching.
I slide up beside him, none of my attention on the threesome in the middle of the circle having the time of their lives while everyone watches them pleasuring each other.
My focus is on Ender and his reaction to the exhibition of tangled limbs, skin slapping against skin, and a room full of moaning from participants and onlookers alike.
I notice the way his chest is heaving, and I move in behind him, mirroring our positions from the other night. "So," I whisper, "was I right thinking you'd enjoy this place?"
Aside from the movement beneath my palm around his waist, Ender is completely still…
and silent. Together, we watch as the blond in the trio has thick thighs clenched around his head, and his face buried in the pussy of the curvy redhead lying on her back with the beginning of an O-face forming.
Then there’s a lanky guy with long, raven hair, who some would describe as the nerdy gamer type —complete with black-rimmed glasses, but he defies the stereotype as he impales the blond with a thick, lengthy cock I catch a glimpse of between thrusts.
It’s making me a little impatient to get Ender under me.
The obscenity of the entire scene has me hard and shallowly pushing against his ass, holding him still in front of me.
The first reaction from Ender begins to show when my wandering hands find his arousal, very prominent in his slacks.
He relaxes against me, enjoying the moment as the threesome all come in succession, moaning in pleasure, with a growl from gamer guy as he slams in one last time before his body begins jerking.
Some of the most thrilling nights of my life have been spent watching couples give in to their desires in this club.
Not all of the couples on display are like this trio—some are more or less mild.
Once you get farther into the slightly more private rooms, though, things get much more interesting.
I don’t think I’ll take Ender back there this time—I’ll have to gauge his overall experience first.
The crowd begins to disperse into pairings. Some move to some of the less public rooms, while others stay in the main room to enjoy more than a few eyes on them.
“Did you enjoy that as much as I think you did?” I ask Ender, squeezing his cock ever so slightly.
“Does it feel like I enjoyed it?” he says, chasing the pressure from my palm.
“Do you want to watch some others, or go somewhere more private?” I almost don’t ask, not wanting to push him for too much on this first time around, but I need to get my hands on him—and I don’t think he’s ready for us to be on public display yet.
“Can we do both?” he says, turning around in my arms and resting his head on my shoulders as our lips collide.