Page 83 of Taking Turns

“Well, thanks,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I guess that’s a compliment. When we go in there,” he says, switching back to business mode, “don’t talk to anyone. Don’t even look at anyone. Just let me get us to where we’re going and then we can relax a little. Enjoy the show, if you’d like.”

I would like. I would very much like to enjoy this show.

“Ready?” he asks, drawing in a deep breath like this makes him very nervous.

“I’m ready,” I say.

He takes my hand and leads me towards the lights and music. We turn the corner and there’s a few people. A couple fucking in a white vinyl chair while another man watches and a third stands behind her, rubbing his cock—peeking through his zipper—along her back.

The black light makes the chair glow. And the woman has white paint—or makeup, maybe—on her body, making it glow as well. Everything else is black. The men she’s engaged with are all wearing formal black suits, just like the one Smith is wearing. In fact, once we move past them and see more people, I realize all the men are wearing suits and all the women are naked with black masks.

Not all of them have the glowing paint. Only the ones with more than two partners, I realize. It must be a signal. It must mean that she’s up for more than just a threesome. There is an overwhelming abundance of men compared to the number of women. Which I find—not unusual, exactly, because more men are interested in the sex club scene than women, but it’s worth noting.

It’s also worth noting that Smith brought me the mask and the hair tie, but not the paint. Because everything they’ve told me so far indicates that they want the foursome from this arrangement we have.

Smith guides me through a more crowded room. People are standing in front of an open area, like there’s a scene going on beyond them. A woman is moaning, and a man is talking dirty. There’s the familiar slap of skin smacking skin as a woman gets fucked from behind. I stop walking, trying to see through a gap in the sea of bodies. Men stand in my way, as eager as me. Women are kneeling on the floor, sucking their dicks through their open zippers. Or standing, pushed up against a wall, or another man’s body, as she is fucked.

“Don’t stop,” Smith says, leaning down into my ear so I can hear him over the moans and music.

He pulls me along until we reach a stairwell, and then we go up. At the top is a little room with a glass floor, so we can see the scene down below. There are six people in the little observation studio. Four men and two women. Both of them have paint on their bodies and all of them are busy in erotic activities.

Smith snaps his fingers and says, “Get out.”

All six of them look up, surprised. But they don’t argue. They stop, mid-act, and leave.

Smith walks me over the top of the glass floor. I step onto it carefully, wondering how much weight this thing will hold. And then he pushes on my head and says, “Kneel, Chella.”

I kneel down even though it hurts my knees, and Smith stands behind me, one hand on my shoulder, one hand pushing my head down, until I look at the people down below.

It’s Bric, and Quin, and some other guy. They have a girl lying flat on her back on top of a white vinyl cage bed. She’s not tied down, but she’s not getting away either. Bric’s knees are straddling her shoulders as he shoves his cock down her throat. Quin is straddling her hips, his cock buried deep inside her pussy. And the third guy is lying underneath her, fucking her ass.

“Who’s the other guy?” I ask Smith, pointing down to the one beneath her.

“No one you need to know about,” he replies. Smith begins to massage my shoulders, every now and then reaching down to cup my breasts to twist my nipples.

I open my legs a little and let my hand slip between them.

Smith fists my ponytail, pulling my head back until I’m looking up at him. “Did I tell you to play with your pussy?”

“No.”

“Then put your fucking hands on your thighs and sit the fuck still until I tell you otherwise.”

I swallow hard as I pull my hand away from my now-throbbing pussy and do as I’m told.

Smith smiles and then crouches down to kiss my mouth.

I kiss him back as he wraps a palm around my neck and squeezes just enough to make me moan.

“You’re not allowed to kiss me,” I say.

“I am if we’re all four together, Chella. The fourth rule is no rules, remember? And I think this counts.”

I smile. Knowing he will fuck me here in this room before we leave tonight.

“But you already knew that, didn’t you? You already knew that if we came down here and found Quin and Bric, we could do whatever we wanted.”

“You know it too,” I say.