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“What?” Eric exclaimed, the penny dropping as he parsed what his friend had just said. “You guys are pregnant? That’s so great! Why didn’t you tell me the other night at dinner?”
“We just found out today,” Michael replied, beaming at his wife. “You’re the first person we’ve told.”
“And, for the record,” Olivia said somewhat dryly, though she, too, was smiling. “We’re not pregnant. I am. He’s just along for the ride. Now, stop trying to change the subject,” she added with a sly grin. “As I said, we were just talking about you. I have someone I want you to meet.”
Eric groaned, slapping his forehead in mock horror. “Noooo!” he cried, but he was laughing. He should have known even pregnancy wouldn’t be enough to derail Olivia from her ongoing mission to set him up with a nice sub girl of his own. It rarely worked out, but she meant well.
“She’s a lovely girl just getting into the scene,” Olivia said, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “She’s a bit of a wild child, but deep down there’s a submissive just waiting to be tamed.”
“Not to mention, she’s very easy on the eyes,” Michael added, using his hands to create a voluptuous hourglass figure in the air. “I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on that one.”
“Hey,” Olivia retorted, feigning outrage. “Is that any way for a prospective father to behave? Keep it in your pants, buddy.”
“That’s Master Buddy to you, sub girl,” Michael teased back.
“What’s her name?” Eric asked, mainly to be polite.
“Kristin,” Olivia supplied. “She said she might try to come by tonight. I’ll give you the high sign if she does so you can get first dibs.”
“Sounds good,” Eric agreed, trying to muster an enthusiasm he didn’t feel. Brats weren’t really his thing, but he had come to the club to be distracted. Maybe subduing a naughty girl was just what he needed to get out of his own head.
He glanced around the space. It was still fairly early by club standards, not quite ten o’clock. About half the stations were occupied, with an additional ten or so patrons milling around, murmuring quietly as they watched scenes in progress. No one caught his fancy, but he wasn’t in any particular hurry.
“Any fun new pieces you’ve acquired since my last visit?” Eric asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Michael said eagerly. “We got a really cool new bondage sling we’ve hung in playroom number three. Usual sign-up rules apply.”
Eric nodded. While players at Salome’s were usually good about not monopolizing a particularly popular piece of equipment, they’d found it most equitable to adopt a sign-up system of half-hour increments to allow everyone who wanted to a chance to check out new pieces.
“We liked it so much, we got one for home, too,” Michael added. “Perfect for binding and spreading naughty little sub girls so you can have your way with them.” He placed his hand on the back of Olivia’s neck as he said this. She leaned into him, a shudder moving through her body as her eyes fluttered closed.
A spasm of jealousy twisted through Eric at the intense bond that existed between the couple beneath the playful banter. They’d been married since right out of college, and only seemed to be more in love every time he saw them.
Eric had imagined love would somehow magically find him one day. He had always enjoyed the variety and intensity afforded by his involvement in the lifestyle. Barely thirty, he figured he had plenty of time.
But, ever since Rowan had first appeared at the Masters Club as the property of another man, everything had somehow turned on its head. If only he’d met her under other circumstances. If only that creep hadn’t gotten his hooks into her, twisting her experience into something dark and cruel. Just thinking about it made Eric’s blood start to boil again.
Okay, enough already, he ordered himself sternly. You’re here to have fun.
He wandered through the club, stopping at various stations to check out the action. A man in a black leather pushup bra and a matching thong was bound against a restraint rack. Red lipstick was smeared haphazardly over his lips and had been used to write the word SLUT across his bare chest. A small woman in a very tight white dress and thigh-high shiny red latex boots was enthusiastically whipping him with a small quirt.
As Eric approached, the woman yanked down the man’s thong, revealing an erection to rival any porn star’s. As she snapped the lash against the guy’s cock, he cried out with anguished delight, “Thank you, Mistress!”
Turning away, Eric scanned the single women in the room, looking for a likely playmate in case this Kristin person didn’t show up. Still not seeing anyone who caught his interest, he moved toward the juice bar set up in a small alcove to the right of the entrance. The alcove was set at an angle, so it was easy to see the main area without distracting folks engaged in the scene. In that regard, it provided a good vantage point to watch the action without being seen. Taking a seat on one of the barstools in front of the counter, he ordered a bottle of Fever-Tree sparkling pink grapefruit.
