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Nairobia squeezed her inner walls as she swept a gaze around the mostly empty club, then up at the three large, white Persian-carpeted cages suspended in air by thick ropes of metal chain. In a matter of moments, each cage would lower and two female models would step in one; two males and one woman would endeavor into another; and, in the final cage, two women and one male would venture inside. Then the cages would rise midway. And the caged lovers would hover in the air fucking and sucking, feasting on their anonymous lover’s eager sexes.
Huge statues, along with life-size erotic paintings of men and women in coitus, depicting threesomes and cunnilingus, and a variation of other lusty positions were situated throughout the club under the glow of sultry lighting.
The whole vibe oozed sensuality.
It dripped sex.
Rose petals scattered about, a spiral staircase wound up to the second and third and fourth and fifth floors, where there was a bubbling fountain in the center of the second floor, flames dancing across the water’s surface, and more oversized sofas. The third floor held stadium-style seating for live shows. And behind a set of double French doors was The Playground, a room filled with every type of sex toy imaginable, exclusively from her adult-toy line, Nasty.
The fourth floor featured two large stages for the male and female exotic dancers, along with another bar and DJ booth. Down the hall there was a cognac lounge and humidor area that was equipped with a full cigar bar stocked with the most exquisite brands, where aficionadas could smoke their favorite cigars and sip some of the world’s finest cognacs.
There were floor-to-ceiling windows and transparent floors looking down the club’s five flights. Each top floor had spectacular views of the Hudson River. The fifth floor opened up to a five thousand-square-foot rooftop garden with retractable walls and roof, along with an enclosed penthouse lounge.
The spiral stairs also descended down into the basement level, or the Love Tomb, as Nairobia called it. Gas lamps lit the way to a Roman-style sauna with polished wood benches stretched along the walls; a heated pool was on the other end for those who wanted to frolic in the sparkling blue water. Several passageways led to numerous chambers beneath the club, where patrons who craved their sex with a bit more kink could indulge their fetishes.
Each floor offered a condom and lube station that was set up like a candy station, with every type of condom in large crystal bowls—in every imaginable color and size—for those who preferred to play safe.
Although every member had to be tested and was required to retest every three months—and provide written documentation—if they wished to remain a member in good standing. Patrons had the option to fuck raw…or wrapped.
The choice was theirs.
A variety of lubes were also at the ready for those who might tap out after a few rounds or who simply weren’t blessed with the juiciest cunts and needed a little something to keep from scraping up a man’s cock. There was nothing worse than sandbag pussy, and a man having to go home with a chafed dick.
Rihanna’s “Skin” poured out of the speakers as Nairobia looked over the railing one last time. Bare-footed, naked bodies airbrushed in gold paint—long dicks, voluptuous breasts, and colossal asses on display for all to see—sauntered around the club in tune to the beat, preparing to take posts throughout the exquisite space as human statues. They’d be holding gold candelabras, lighting the way to nirvana.
The lights dimmed.
Oh, yes, in less than an hour—hidden behind thick mahogany doors, a decadent sea of pleasure awaited everyone who stepped across its threshold.
The sign above the doors that opened up into the club’s Italian-marbled foyer read: ENTER IF YOU DARE. LEAVE BEHIND YOUR APPREHENSIONS. SURRENDER TO YOUR DESIRES…AND STEP INSIDE THE PLEASURE ZONE.
Nairobia smiled wickedly.
TWO
The sweet notes of “Send Me Out” by Kelela played as flames swayed across the stunning fountain’s water on the club’s second level. The song was sexy. The artist’s voice poured out of the speakers like warm honey. And it made the air around Nairobia thicken with sexual energy. She skimmed a hand down her neck, then allowed it to glide down over her pulsing body.
The club’s grand opening had exceeded her wildest expectations. It was close to midnight, the bewitching hour—the freak hour, and the club was packed with hard-bodied hunks and curvaceously heeled women thrust in the throes of decadence.
Nairobia’s tongue slid across her teeth as she gathered the drool that formed in her mouth, and swallowed. Salacious thoughts and forbidden desires bloomed into sinful realities right before her and she was…well, she was shamelessly wet.
Sweet pussies slid down hard dicks. Thick dicks pushed through swollen cunts; balls pushing against asses, while wandering hands skated up bodies to cup bouncing breasts. The music and the delicious sounds of orgasms echoed around the club. Permeated its walls.
And Nairobia was floating.
On lust.
On mounting desire.
Nipples peaked, her gaze swept around the sensual space, her arousal heightening. The luminosity of the flickering firelight from the gas lamps reflected beautifully off tiled mosaics of notoriously lusty satyrs and maidens. The walls illuminated by the fire’s glow and its dancing flames gave the illusion that the satyrs were moving, their hips thrusting.
She felt herself growing lusciously wetter.
Not from the room’s ambiance, but from the sight of a mocha-colored, mink-lashed vixen being ravaged by three delectable, broad-shouldered chocolate hunks. She was straddling the one with the braids, his long legs stretched out along an oversized burnt-orange leather sofa as his hips thrust up in her, slicing into her cunt. Another, dark chocolate with dreads, was in back of her, his large hands on either side of her ass cheeks, the ring of her anus stretched around the head of his jumbo-size dick as he eased himself in and out of her, loosening the way inside her tunnel. The third hunk, bald, caramel-coated bliss, stood with both his hands on his hips, his legs spread wide, his balls dangling over Mr. Braids’ face as Mink Lash licked the head of his dick.
Nairobia felt the urging need to squeeze her thighs together, and she did.
There was a deep throb, a sweet aching, spreading through her pussy as she watched the four lovers in the throes of unadulterated pleasure. Her cunt caught fire, enflaming her slickened lips. She could feel the flames quickly spreading through her asshole, swirling up and around her clit. Her whole body became engulfed in heat.
