1. BENJI #2
He took my hand. I stayed standing, head turned away, looking out at the floor as it filled with more guys in their groupings like some fancy soiree, the type I saw all the first-year lawyers attend when they were hired.
It felt like I was staring ahead at my future, and when Max’s touch slipped away, giving me the full ability to leave, I couldn’t.
“Are you okay?” he asked. “You promised not to treat me differently.”
“I’m—” I turned and saw him, crouch standing, as if ready to race after me.
“Is this something you do?” I asked, shaking my head at him.
“Look for the lonely guy, clearly broke because he’s only here for the free night, buy him a drink, take him on a tour, book a room, and show him that you can make it real thick with a pump? ” My lip curled into a snarl.
He laughed. “No.” It was plain. “I never approach anyone. I come here, sit somewhere quiet, watch, and leave after a couple of vodka sodas. Sure, in the past, if someone caught my eye, I might have given them my number, but most people don’t have what it takes to follow the rules and learn what I have to teach. ”
“Rules?”
He had my attention, lowering himself down into the seat. “Of pleasure. Of shared pleasure. Of all the things this place can give.”
“And—and what does that usually mean?”
“Listen, I know I can buy whatever I want, and people want me to buy them.” He gulped hard.
“It’s a vile thought, and my friends are always telling me never to talk about money, or my job, or anything I do.
But I follow my own rule. Always be honest first. No matter if it hurts.
And as for pleasure, I’d rather not get into it unless we go there. ”
“Okay, well, if you’re honest, what did you think of me when you saw me?”
He shrugged. “I told you at the bar. I thought you looked lost, and lonely. Out of your depth, maybe. Still now, I think so. But I see it in your eyes, you come alive when you’re comfortable.
In a private room, in a corner booth, you look less like a deer in headlights.
” He tapped his fingertips across the table.
“Your turn to be honest. What did you come here for?”
I sat, if only for the daiquiri. “My best friend was supposed to come with me,” I said, picking one of the near-frozen candies sticking to the glass.
“He cancelled last minute, but I’ve had a hellish week at work, and I—I wanted to get laid.
There. Honesty.” I popped the candy in my mouth, hard, and chewed, giving myself a reason not to say anything else.
“You know what the Playhouse is, right?” he asked, nodding. “This is just the bar, a place to break the ice before going up to the playrooms, and there are a lot of them. So, what type of play do you like?” There was a quiet moment as he stared at me, waiting for me to finish the candy.
I gulped hard. “It’s a no kink-shaming zone, right?”
He laughed. “If people shame anyone here, they get removed, unless of course, it’s—you know, illegal, non-consensual, against the rules, et cetera.”
“Okay, well, mine is very consensual,” I said. “I’m into age play, which is—”
Max smirked, his hand on mine as I’d placed it on the table. “I know what it is,” he said. “But you don’t look like you came prepared for it.”
“I didn’t,” I said. “In all honesty, I was hoping to find someone, get laid, and treat it like a reset before I had to be back at work on Monday.”
I think the honesty was working. “Vanilla is fun,” he said. “I navigate a more dominant role. I’ve been a Daddy before, and if you’re feeling this, then I’d love to share that with you, maybe let you in on more of my rules.”
“Yes,” I said, the word choked in my throat. “I don’t have anything with me, though. I usually have my teddy, he’s a lion named Lionel, and—I have onesies with ass hatches.”
He slipped his fingers under mine, now holding my hand. “I can’t give you Lionel, but I can give you a plush animal to play with, and a onesie to feel more comfortable in.”
“Really?” My fingers twitched, wrapping around his, now hooked around my palm.
“Of course,” he said. “I like to play with lost little lambs. Is that what you are?”
I nodded. “I was lost, but I think I might now be found.”
“You know, usually I don’t pick guys up like this, but I’ve had a great week.
I want to celebrate, and you look like you need something to celebrate,” he said, and his words sent gummy worms tingling through my belly.
I clenched a little. I’d only eaten a small bowl of ramen before leaving my apartment, and now the candies in my drink.
“What are you celebrating?” I asked.
He squeezed my fingers in his grip. “An exit from a company. Made fifteen-fold the investment, and it wasn’t a small chunk of change either.”
Now I tingled, my entire body like Jell-O.
He was in a different league to me. He was dealing with million-dollar deals, and I was dealing with boxes of legal papers and deadlines with no wiggle room.
Thinking about it forced a lump of anxiety to settle in my throat.
“I wish I had something like that to celebrate.”
With another tug, he now had my eyes focused on him. “What would you want to celebrate?”
“I’m studying for the LSAT, so I can apply to NYU School of Law and become a lawyer,” I told him. “I don’t want to be a paralegal for the rest of my life. I know people do, you know, to avoid the stress and debt of law school, but it’s not what I’ve always wanted to do.”
Max smirked, reaching out. He touched my face, hesitating slightly like he wanted permission. “Let me guess. You watched Legally Blonde and decided that.”
“Kinda. Is that bad?”
“Not at all, I just like to be right about these things.” He nodded. “Are you feeling up to exploring this place?”
I looked around, over my shoulder. Part of me wondered what the point was. I could never afford the membership fees or club dues—I’d flicked through the pamphlet. “I don’t wanna fall in love with the place, though.”
He laughed. “That’s why you get someone to sponsor you,” he said.
“And how many people do you sponsor?”
“Nobody. I’m not a sugar daddy,” he said. “And that’s what most of the people here want. Gifts. Money. A card in their name.”
I shook my head. “If I can be honest, it doesn’t sound like you’ve been having fun.”
Pulling his hand away, he shrugged. “I have plenty of fun. But I’m not here to be used.
If you’re forgetting, I’m not the submissive.
I will not be dominated financially like some of these men.
” His eyes darted around the room behind me.
“The question for you is, are we going to leave this table and I’ll give you a tour, then we’ll head up to my room, see if there’s a vibe, and maybe hookup?
Or are you going to take your drink and head back out there?
” His hand was on my leg, caressing my thigh with a firm grip.
“One more real question,” I started.
“Nine inches, uncut, and my bulge is prominent. I’m not all balls but they hang low, and yes, I’m getting hard.
” With his other hand on mine, he pulled it to his thigh, mirroring each other, except my fingers were in a wet patch against the fabric tensioned over his dick.
“And that’s just from you right now. If you were to submit and play, it could tear through this very expensive suit. ”
Stunned to silence, the questions I had were nowhere to be found, but one was still there, the question he might not have answered at all. What was his net worth? If it was anything like his dick, it probably carried heavy weight in rooms I’d never get the chance to be in.
“I want it,” I whispered.
“Good boy.”