Chapter 5
Eden
The hot water had felt amazing at first, especially after how sweaty she had been from the party. Yet after about thirty minutes of no one coming by, Eden shut off the showerhead if only to keep from pruning – and to preserve water, she supposed.
This is really a fetish for some people, huh?
These private shower stalls that connected to the hallway via an equally private corridor were decked out for comfort.
Between the state-of-the-art detachable showerhead, the wide bench, the heated floors outside of the shower, and all of the hygiene products and razors a person of privilege could ask for, it was hard to believe that this was primarily constructed for sex.
Until she saw the covert oh shit handles on every wall. Or the durable frosted-glass shower door that could probably withstand her whole body thrust up against it. Or the fact that she was still thinking about sex. Constantly.
The man at the party had not only popped her Butterfly cherry but left a lasting impression. I think that might have been the best sex I’ve ever had… She couldn’t believe it. Here, of all places. There, of all places! Those circumstances! A random guy who just came up and… fucked her!
Gee, almost like this is what this place is about.
She had played it cool when she checked out and left the club.
She showed the black wristband to the hostess at the exit and was told to take it with her to wear for the rest of the evening as long as she was at large.
When she mentioned she was assigned to the showers that night, the hostess took the wristband.
Eden had gone up to her room to change into her robe and to have a moment to herself.
It felt silly to have a preliminary wash in her own shower, but that man had made a point with her pussy.
He had even said so himself. And it was so hot!
Eden didn’t even mind working another shift down here in the dark shower stall.
After getting her hair wet and washing herself from head to foot, she sat on the bench and waited. And contemplated.
Eventually, she had shut off the water and sat there, dripping. The part of her that hoped another guest would come was like an addict searching for a hit. She already had a taste that night. Could she have another? Would it even be as good?
And that was the self-doubt that represented the other part of her.
What if it sucked? What if it turned out she couldn’t handle it?
Maybe it was best that she could just decompress in here.
Relive those ten minutes with a man who knew how to give it to her.
Enjoy her big “win” on her first day at La Mariposa.
Just as she had gotten used to the idea of being alone, the door handle at the end of the corridor clicked. Without another breath spared, Eden leaped up and turned the showerhead on.
Please be nice. Please be nice. Please be nice!
“Good evening,” came a cheeky voice. “Fancy meeting someone here.”
Is he cracking wise with me? Well, that was better than some alternatives. “Good evening, sir.” Was that her sultriest voice? One knew it was humid enough in there…
She saw movement through the frosted glass. The guest hung up a robe. His limbs moved more, but she couldn’t see what he was doing.
“Already wet for me, are you?”
He was joking again. Should she laugh? Giggle?
“You can’t even see me,” she teased.
“But the shower is running.” He came closer. “How wet are you, hm?”
She stood right in the middle of the shower, the water hitting the back of her head and rolling down her skin. “Dripping.”
“Naked, of course. I’m assuming.”
“As the day I was born.”
He lightly knocked on the door. “Care to let me in? I’ve had a long day traveling and could use a hot shower.”
Eden cracked open the door. “Bet that’s not all you could use.”
Dang, she was too good at this! Turns out I am when it’s fun.
An eye met hers on the other side of the crack. “You’re right. I could use some attention.”
She slid the door the rest of the way open. The man on the other side was about as young as she expected, with a lighter build than the one who had blown her mind only a couple of hours ago. I think I might be ready again… Maybe. For now, she would flirt.
“My sweet New Orleans…” He lingered in the doorway, naked, a bit of an Adonis V pointing toward his mostly flaccid cock. Yup. I’m looking. She lifted her gaze back to his shadowy face. The shower steam was destined to come between them. “You are to die for.”
She twirled wet hair around her finger and tilted one leg to the side. “You think so?”
He stepped inside. He wasn’t too much taller than her, but his presence was intense. Much like the heat of the shower water beating against Eden’s breasts as she stepped back against the wall.
“You look like you’ve been sculpted by Michelangelo. Tell me, did you use to be called Aphrodite? Perhaps for a few hundred years?”
“Charmer!”
He closed the door behind him. “That’s most of the fun. I like talking.”
Quite the contrast from the last one. Mm. She was already thinking about how he fucked her on that loveseat again. “What should I call you?”
“They say my name is Neal this weekend. I think it’s stupid, but what can I do? Those are the rules.” He was still drinking her in as the steam continued to twirl between them. “She said your name is Brim.”
“Yeah. That’s my name this weekend. I think it’s short for Brimstone. I looked it up earlier. It’s a type of butterfly.”
“A very nice one, I’m sure.”
“Eh…” Eden knew better than to share her opinion on the green and brown butterfly she was assigned as her moniker.
She was supposed to keep things light and positive with the guests – and, so far, “Neal” aligned with that.
I wonder what the other man’s name was… Even his code name.
Matt. Gary. Luke. Sam… “Well, I like butterflies. So it works out.”
Although there was only so much space in that large shower, the guest kept his distance, arms crossed and gaze cresting the steam to meet Eden’s.
Sure, he furtively checked out her naked body, making her slightly self-conscious, but he hadn’t run out screaming at the sight of her thighs or the birthmark on her butt.
That’s right. I qualified to be here. Eden had to keep reminding herself that she was hot.
If the people casting the Butterflies of La Mariposa thought she would turn every head, whether she was done up in fishnets and makeup or as natural as when she went to sleep…
That was a powerful ego boost. One she wouldn’t mind sharing with Neal in front of her.
“So…” She held her hands behind her back, boosting up her chest and drawing the guest’s gaze right to her dripping wet skin. “What can I do for you? I’m…” She forewent clearing her throat. Confidence, girl. You’ve got this. You’re hot! “I’m at your service.”
Oh, she sounded much sultrier than she thought she would! And, oh, it had its intended purpose on the man who had joined her for the rest of the hour.
“Well, now I’m shy!” He laughed, and Eden knew he was anything but.
“But it’s been a long day, Brim. I got here late and missed all the fun already.
Guess you could say I’m up for whatever, as long as it feels good.
” He tapped his chin, and Eden had to keep herself from laughing at such boyish good looks making her forget where she was – let alone what they were doing.
“Don’t suppose you’re good with a massage?
Nothing fancy. Also, this is the first shower I’ve had all day. I probably need to properly wash up.”
“As it so happens..” She pressed herself up against the wall so he could step forward and into the direct spray of the showerhead.
“I’ve taken a few massage classes.” She almost said that she wasn’t “certified or anything,” but kept her mouth shut.
One of the places she could be assigned was the spa, so she must have been “good enough” for La Mariposa.
It’s not like I demonstrated on anyone. She just provided proof of the classes she took through a local community college.
“Awesome.” He handed her a tiny bar of soap he had delivered from a dispenser. Do your worst. Or your best. I honestly don’t know which one I wish for more, sweetheart.”
Usually, men calling her “sweetheart” drove her crazy, and Eden assumed it would be worse in a club like this.
Yet… He was so earnest in the way he invited her to touch him.
Like they were old lovers who were having a booty call years after they broke up.
Or if it was totally normal for two strangers to take a shower together.
Let alone one to lather up and lightly massage the other…
“Ah, that’s great.” He sagged beneath the hot water after she soaped up her hands and braved touching him.
His skin is so smooth. She tried not to giggle as she thought of the phrase “like a baby’s bottom.
” Yet her hands took their time, starting with his shoulders and working their way down to his hips.
Streaks of soap were left wherever her hands had been, but the shower water quickly washed them away.
“You’ve got great hands, Brim. Just what I needed after a day like today. ”
She bit her lip, the occasional spritz of water getting in her face depending on how he moved.
Should I have a conversation with him? Was that what he wanted?
During orientation, it was made very clear that there was no exchanging of “identifying information” between guests and Butterflies.
While the examples – real names, cities where they lived, day jobs – were obvious, it certainly seemed silly that she couldn’t learn this man’s favorite color.
“You said you had a long day traveling here?” She lightly squeezed his hips before getting more soap.