Zoë
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“HAVE WE MET before?” David asks, standing in front of me, his obscene leather codpiece at my knees.
I try to steady my breathing as I shake my head, figuring denial should be my first line of defense. Panic is making my pulse fire, even though there isn’t a hint of suspicion in his tone.
“Well, I love your mask,” he says easily, and I breathe out with relief. He’s just making conversation. “I have such a soft spot for fetish masks. So kinky.”
I smile, not wanting to speak and risk him recognizing my voice, and quickly down the rest of my drink for courage.
“Want another?” He takes the cup from my hand.
I shake my head.
Already, things are too hazy and loose, and I don’t want to slip from relaxation into oblivion. I’m buzzing with anticipation, with nerves, with excitement, and I want to be clearheaded so that I don’t miss a thing.
When David puts my cup down on the counter and turns towards me, it’s like a shark weaving through the water towards its prey—smooth, confident, and lethal. I twist around to look at the bull sitting behind me, wondering what role he will play, but of course, his mask hides any expression. He’s unreadable.
David was the number one person I was supposed to avoid tonight, but now the idea that Daddy David might touch me is an appealing taboo twist. Yet I’m hyper-aware of the man in the bull mask. Even with my back to him, his presence is so heavy it’s like he has his own gravity. I know I’ve been delivered to David as his plaything, but I hope the bull will also be some kind of participant.
There’s a nagging worry in the back of my mind that what I’m doing is deceptive and maybe wrong. I don’t want to trick David into doing something he doesn’t want to do. But the way he looks at me tells me that when he doesn’t know who I am, he wants to do very dirty things to me. And that, I decide, is his choice.
He runs a finger down my arm, leaving a trail of warmth, and then leans forward and brushes my ear with his lips.
“You’re beautiful, honey,” he whispers. “If you want to use a safe word or anything, just let me know, otherwise I’ll just stop doing anything you don’t like if you say stop, okay?”
I nod, and swallow, feeling his fingers sweep up my back and unclip my bikini top. I let him slip off the top and untie the sides of my bikini bottoms, pulling them out from under me.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his eyes searching for mine through the mesh of my mask so closely that my heart beats faster. I nod again, partially to move away from his penetrating glance, and thankfully, he averts his gaze—unfazed and without a hint of hesitation.
“She’s gorgeous,” he says over my shoulder to the bull. “What do you think I should do with her?”
“Hmm.”
A scrape of the chair behind me, and then the sound of footsteps on concrete as the bull walks around the examination bed. When he’s in front of me, he tilts his head and lifts his hand to his chin thoughtfully, as if he’s giving it serious consideration. “She told me that she’s an exhibitionist and that she loves the idea of strangers watching her come.”
“Did she now?” says David. “Well, that can certainly be arranged.”
The bull steps out of my field of vision and continues to walk around the bed, leisurely, like he’s looking me over. Like he’s examining something he’s considering buying. When he leans over my shoulder, his voice is low and quiet.
“I want to watch my friend lick your pussy and make you come. Would that be okay?”
“Yes,” I say, forgetting my resolution not to speak. My sex swells and desire claws at my throat, strangling my voice.
Yes, I want your friend to do the most intimate thing possible to me, in front of you and an audience of strangers.
It’s filthy and it’s the stuff of my fantasies.
One hundred percent yes.
“Good,” the bull intones, the heavy mask making his voice resonate with a faint, hollow echo.
“Excellent,” David agrees, placing his hands on my knees.
He parts them gently, steps into my space, and traces a finger down my body from my throat to my belly button, drawing a shiver down through me. When his hand drifts between my legs, his finger slipping into my moistened depths, he groans with pleasure.
My breath hitches as his finger moves across my clit, and I lean back on my hands and let my knees fall open—everything in my center unfolding and blooming. I feel unguarded and cradled, safe to let go, cocooned between the two men and held by dozens of eyes.
David gives a low chuckle and bends down, his breath warm between my legs as he speaks.
“Oh my God,” he murmurs. “You have a beautiful pussy.”
His warm tongue slides up between my folds, and with a gasp, I let myself fall backwards onto the bed until I’m looking up at the bull above me.
I’ve been on the knife’s edge of pleasure all night, and this sudden, soft, perfect stimulation is exactly what I’ve been aching for. I lift my hips, all the heat and need and longing inside of me coiling up in my center as David—my roommate, my friend, my mentor—draws his tongue up tantalizingly over my slit.
“Oh God,” I moan, a raw cry loosened from somewhere within. “Oh God, that feels good.”
I can’t take my eyes off the bull hovering over me. The intimidating anonymity of his mask and the bulging power of his chest and arms conflate with the long stroking lines of pleasure David is drawing up through my core until they’re all indistinguishable. It’s as if the bull himself is drawing my orgasm to the surface, using David’s tongue as an extension of himself, and I need to feel and touch him desperately.
“Please,” I whisper, my head tilted up towards him, my body laid out before him like an offering. “Let me suck you.”
My lust knows no bounds. I want this stranger’s dick in my mouth. I want cum everywhere. I’m in the full, uninhibited heart of my need.
“Fuck, honey,” says the bull, resting his hands on either side of my head so that he’s right over me. “That’s a tempting offer, but I’m only a spectator tonight.”
David sits up, huffing a laugh. “All business and no pleasure, is it?”
Irritation snakes through me. I miss David’s mouth, and I don’t know why the bull is rebuffing me. “What?” I ask, confusion mixed with impatience. David laughs again.
“I’m an investor,” says the bull. “I’m only here as an observer.”
“An observer with a broken heart,” says David. “But this young lady will have a broken heart, too, if we don’t give her what she needs.”
He lowers his head again, covering my clit with his lips and then sucking it softly into his mouth, and I gasp and writhe on the bed, my momentary irritation forgotten.
“Good lord,” breathes the bull. “It’s been a long time since I saw a mouth as beautiful as yours.”
“Then fuck it,” I invite him, between gasping breaths.
* * *
Everything has a fluid, surreal quality to it. I’m like Clara in The Nutcracker , whisked away to a world of fantasy by an older man—and in this case his friend, too. Or like Alice in Alice in Wonderland , down the rabbit-hole. Of all the stages I’ve been on, and all the performances I’ve given, none has ever been like this, though. As a dancer, I have to be in control of my body, but this performance is all about losing myself.
David licks long, wide strokes over my clit, while the bull unzips his leather pants and mutters, “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” before running the velvety, veiny underside of his cock over my lips and tongue. He’s huge and thick, much bigger than I expected, and I turn my head to face him, eager to take him into my mouth even though I can’t fit his whole length. His hips block my view of the window, so I can’t see the faces looking in—the faces looking at my naked body, seeing the obscenity of the man between my legs and the one in my mouth. I have to imagine them, all those spectators, and when I do, I surprise myself by coming violently. The bull’s cock falls out of my mouth and I screw up my eyes and my whole body contracts in on itself, and then David and the bull are chuckling warmly and with admiration, getting up and moving away. I can see the faces in the window again—dozens of people watching me with unabashed interest, as if I were a creature in a zoo.
David whispers in my ear, my own David who just made me come so hard I’m half blind, and who has no idea how the unspoken pact between us has been broken.
“I’d like to see you ride him,” he’s saying. “Do you want to fuck?”
I’m nodding. Yes, yes, I want to. I can hardly believe I’m here, doing these things. This is actually happening.
For far too long, sex has been more complicated than it should be for me. For five months I had a boyfriend who didn’t want to fuck me. Then one week of earth-shattering sex with Nick, followed by six months of moping over him. Six months of no one else being good enough, so there was no one else.
Maybe no one will ever be as good as Nick. But I have a life to get on with.
I sit up on my elbows and watch David and the bull put their heads together and speak quietly—it almost looks like David is trying to convince the bull of something, which I choose not to dwell on—and then the bull walks over to me and leans in and says, “Are you sure about this?”
Yes, I nod. I’m quite sure.
He straightens up and pulls his pants all the way off, his enormous dick bobbing with his motion, and pure lust rocks through me. He’s exceptionally thick and rock hard. I’m about to more than make up for months of celibacy all at once.
“It’s a Magnum,” says David with a wink as he hands the bull a condom, and the bull rips it open and rolls it down his huge shaft before lowering himself over me.
I’m trembling with anticipation as he aligns the head of his cock with my entrance, and I gasp with shock and pleasure as he slowly pushes into me, my mind going blank until all that exists is this giant man thrusting inside me, spreading me open in the most literal sense. I melt into the bed, giving myself over to him completely.
“Are you okay?” he checks, his deep voice surprisingly soft, and I’m heartfelt as I whisper back.
“Yes. Yes.”
It’s been an unimaginable amount of time since a man made me feel this way, not since I was with Nick, and sex is so much better than I even remembered.
The bull makes a low, involuntary sound in his throat and cups his hands under my ass as he drives into me again, making me cry out.
In minutes, a familiar electricity is crackling in my core, my insides clenching around his girth, and before I know it, I’m coming again, clutching the bull’s muscular back as he drives into my pulsing heat.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans in my ear, thrusting harder. “Holy shit.”
He lifts me up by my ass, effortlessly carrying me as he turns around and lays back so that I’m on top now, straddling him, one knee on either side of his hips. To my right, I can see the side window, and the faces looking through at us seem to blend with our own reflection.
I start riding him, moving up and down on his cock exactly in the way that I want to feel it, getting hotter and hotter as I exaggerate my movements for my audience, tossing my head back and placing the palms of my hands on his hard chest for balance. The bull lifts his hands to my breasts, fondling them as they bounce, and then I feel the warmth of David’s hands on my hips from behind, his body against my back as he lifts my hair and kisses my neck.
I’ve never had a threesome before, but David’s touch feels natural—essential, even. The bull digs fingers into my hips, pulling me down against him as he pumps into me, while I let my weight fall backwards against David’s chest. It’s such a surrender. My gaze gets unfocused, everything is feeling and sensation, and soon I don’t know whose hands are whose, only that hands are cupping my breasts, brushing my nipples, holding my hips—four hands exploring my body, and it feels like they must belong to the bull beneath me. As if it’s a function of his size and power that he can touch me everywhere at once. When I realize that one of the hands is rubbing slick lubricant against my asshole, I try to arch my back and lift my ass as much as I can, because it makes perfect sense. Four hands, two cocks, and I want as much as I can get.
“I want him inside of you, too,” grunts the bull, his voice taut, strained with the labor of speaking through his own torturous pleasure. Why is arousal so close to agony? “I want him in your ass.”
Of course. Of course. The connection between us feels so heightened, so supernatural, that it no longer feels necessary to speak at all. My answer is a hitched breath and the responding wetness that makes the bull moan underneath me. The idea of having two cocks inside me at the same time has me panting in anticipation, but David pauses, his breath against my ear, and his hard length pressed against me.
“Is this okay, sweetheart?” he rasps. “I need you to say it.”
“Yes.” Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Yes. “Fuck me.”
I don’t know my own voice. It’s all breath, sounds barely forming on the air, but then I feel David’s cock move, his swollen head seeking the soft spot where my flesh gives, and I stop moving. The bull holds still, and then David is pushing, pushing through the tight ring.
“Fuck yes,” cries the bull, helplessly, as David penetrates me. David runs a hand up my throat, wrapping his fingers around my neck and kissing my shoulder while I whimper through the exquisite sensation. And then he’s in. Both men are inside of me, fucking me, and slowly, slowly, they both start to move.
“Hold still,” says the bull. “Yes, good girl. Oh, good fucking girl.”
I do as I’m told, holding in place until the rhythm becomes natural, until I don’t have to think about it anymore, and then it’s just happening. We’re all moving in an instinctive, effortless rhythm, and it’s the most intense physical sensation I’ve ever felt.
I have the strongest urge to kiss the bull, to pull his mask up and feel his mouth. Instead, I stare at him, as if his non-face were a face, and imagine that he’s staring right back at me. I can hardly believe it because I’ve already come twice, but soon, pressure is mounting inside of me with every stroke until, like a dam, it bursts. My vision swims and I cling to the bull as I ride the wave, my fingers digging into his hard, muscular shoulders, my body rocked by a nuclear blast. I’m an atom splitting, I’m searing with a white heat, and just as a violent convulsion rocks my body, the bull cries out, a wild, guttural roar, and his hips start bucking underneath me. I lean forward and rest my head on his shoulder, my nose just under his ear as David pumps faster, gritting out, “Oh, fuck,” with every thrust until he falls over my back and grunts, his cock shuddering inside of me.
I could stay this way forever, collapsed onto the broad, muscled chest of an anonymous animal, every cell spinning and buzzing, pure oxytocin coursing through my veins.
Maybe, just maybe, I am ready to move on from Nick. Sex is amazing. Even if I don’t fall in love as hard as I did with Nick, there can be other men. I can still feel something. I can still feel this.
Finally, the bull’s cock starts to soften. David pulls back, and there’s a slipping, alarming feeling as he carefully pulls out. I hear him walk away, the tap running in the sink, and unwillingly, I lift my head off the bull’s shoulder, as he holds the condom in place and pulls himself out of me. I swing my leg over him, and dismount unsteadily from the bed.
“Fucking beautiful, darling,” says David, catching me by the elbow. He pulls me in for a hug, just the way he might hug me at home when I’ve had a long day and need support, and I lean into the familiarity, guiltily wondering if I feel familiar to him, too.
“Thank you,” says the bull, standing up from the bed and wrapping one arm around my shoulder, kissing the top of my head. After the closeness we’ve shared, he feels familiar, too. “I needed that.”
I feel the exact same way. I could never explain how much.
And then the fantasy comes to an abrupt halt.
“Shall we hit the showers?” suggests David, in one sentence puncturing the balloon of suspended reality I’ve been in for the past few hours.
I can’t shower with him. I can’t even talk, and I can’t take off my mask. If I didn’t want David to know I snuck into the club, I most certainly don’t want him to know that the intimacy he just shared with a stranger wasn’t actually with a stranger at all.
So I shake my head, pursing my lips to show regret.
“No?” he says with disappointment and surprise.
I shake my head again.
For a heart-stopping moment, he’s looking at me too closely again, cocking his head like he’s trying to figure something out, and then he straightens up and says, “I hope we didn’t steal you away from anybody tonight.”
Ah—he’s wondering if I’m here with a partner.
No. I shake my head. I pick the pieces of my bathing suit up from the floor where they’re laying on either side of David’s codpiece and hurriedly tie and clip them back on.
Suddenly, David’s hand is on my elbow—I almost jump. “Do you have a name?” he asks.
I shake my head again, pulling back. The bull, naked and magnificent, watches the interaction, his thoughts unknowable.
“Sorry,” I manage, in a quiet voice.
“It’s all good.” David pulls his hand back, and holds the door open for me to skitter away. “I just wanted to be friends. I think you’re super cool. Thank you.”
I don’t look back. I step through the door, propelling myself forward. Outside, it’s like a paparazzi moment.
“That was so hot!” gushes a woman’s voice in my ear. “Baby, you are incredible,” says a man. I smile politely and push my way through without stopping to talk to anybody, heading directly for the door to the main bar.
* * *
It’s a relief to unzip the mask from my face in David’s office washroom and let my skin breathe. My cheeks are deep pink from the heat of the vinyl, and my skin is shiny with sweat. I wash my face twice and towel off vigorously. I would love to have a shower, but I’ll have to wait until I get home. I can’t risk David coming in and finding me here.
I can’t believe I really did it. I had the kind of experience I’ve only ever fantasized about, and I still haven’t really come down from it. I’m floating on cloud nine. In fact, it’s been impossible to stay grounded in reality all night. From the moment I crossed over the threshold to the on-premise space, everything was magical, mysterious, and disorienting. It’s like I spent the night in Faerieland.
The only tinge of regret I have is in how much I’m missing Nick right now. While I did have an incredible experience, it’s a little jarring to all of a sudden be on my own. I wish someone could hold me… I wish Nick could hold me. I’m craving his arms with a kind of homesickness.
But , I think as I flatten the mask out on the counter and look at it, I’m on my way .
Tonight I learned that I’m getting ready to move on. I may not be ready to fall in love again, but I’m ready to be with someone else. The way the bull caught my eye the minute I saw him has shown me that I can feel lust again. Even if I never fall in love again, at least I know I can have fun.
The mask is creepy laid out like this, with its wide open mouth and subtle eyes and nose. It still looks like a face, a creepy, uncanny-valley kind of face, but I can’t help but feel affection towards it. This mask liberated me for a night of unprecedented pleasure tonight, and it is a friend.
I leave it flattened out on the counter as I get dressed and tie up my boots, as if it needs a rest after the night we had, too, and get distracted as I remember I need to bring my favorite shampoo home, and then get a stick of gum out of David’s jacket pocket. I’m just about to finally step out the office door when I remember I left it on the bathroom counter, and I almost laugh, thinking about what a boneheaded way to blow my cover that would be. Shit. I spin on my heel, and I’m walking back to the bathroom when something catches my eye.
It’s funny what the subconscious mind will pick up, like how you can hear your own name when you’re otherwise not listening. That’s how attuned I am to the name Rivera , because somehow it leaps out at me from a sea of unreadable ink as my eyes skim the papers on David’s desk.
Right there, sitting on top of his laptop, is a short stack of pages with a cover that reads: “Investment Proposal: Rivera Holdings LLC”.
Investment Proposal.
Rivera Holdings LLC.
I have to hold on to the edge of the desk in case I faint.
I know for a fact that Rivera Holdings is Nick’s company because I’ve seen similar paperwork before at his house. And it’s not that the document in itself is so unusual. David and Nick are friends.
Alarm bells are sounding off as my brain tries to fit together puzzle pieces it absolutely refuses to make sense of.
“I’m an investor.” The bull’s words ring through my head. “I’m only here as an observer.”
“An observer with a broken heart.”
His body, his cock, the way he moved… It can’t be.
I would know.
But then a little voice in my head says, don’t you, though? And before I can even begin to process that, I hear another familiar voice—out loud and right outside the door.
“I’ll just be a sec.”
It’s David.
There’s no time to think. All I can do is react. I run back to David’s desk and dive underneath it, my heart banging at my ribs like a prisoner rattling the bars of his cage.
David has a big desk with a covered front, so he won’t see me when he walks in, but by the time I realize what a stupid choice this was—what if he sits down?—it’s too late. I hear the door open, and two pairs of feet walk into the room.
I need to take a deep breath. My heart is pounding so hard it’s drawing too much oxygen, and I’m afraid of making any noise. I open my mouth and try to breathe as quietly as I can.
“… incredible,” David is saying. “That doesn’t happen every day. But Locked & Loaded is special.”
And then I almost really do pass out when I hear a familiar voice respond. “Yeah.”
One word, one syllable… and of course it’s Nick. That voice is etched into my memory, I only need one note to recognize it. And yet it is the bull, too. It was the same voice all along.
It was loud in there, I tell myself. The mask covered my ears. But no matter how many excuses I make, my mind is still reeling. How could I not have noticed?
“I can’t shake this guilt, though,” says the man who is so obviously Nick, I have to cover my mouth just to keep from screaming. “Guilt about betraying her, but guilt over how good it felt, too. How easy it was to do it.”
“Oh, God,” says David, in a voice so laden with sarcasm I can almost hear his eyes rolling. “I know I don’t need to tell you that you need to let that go. Here.” He steps forward, and my skin gets clammy with fear. If he walks around the desk, he’ll see me, and then what? As if this isn’t humiliating enough, the revelation and confrontation with Nick will add unspeakable layers of embarrassment to this night. But he doesn’t come around. His footsteps take him to the side of the room, to his filing cabinet, and I hear a metallic clamor as he pulls a drawer open.
“Thanks,” says Nick. “I’ll look this over tonight.”
“Please don’t,” says David. “Please stay and fuck some more, or get fucked up, or at least sleep if you insist on going home.”
Nick scoffs. “Asshole,” he says to David, with a smile in his tone.
David laughs as their footsteps recede, and as the door creaks open and then closes, relief tumbles over me like an avalanche. I fall back against the inside of the desk and let myself exhale heavily.
Holy shit.
That was close.
In a second, the panic sets in again. I need to get out of here before I have another close call. I grab my bag and rush down the corridor to the fire exit, and when the exterior door clicks shut behind me, I slump my shoulders and breathe in the night air like I’ve just escaped a burning building.