Page 20 of A Man After Midnight

“Have a seat, make yourself comfortable,” Wren said, gesturing. He walked over and poured himself a brandy before settling in the leather recliner.

“I don’t understand,” she said as she sat on the chaise. “Is this Perversions?”

“There are many different levels of Perversions actually,” he replied, offering her a drink. “It’s made for you to feel comfortable.”

She absently took the drink, looking at the amber alcohol. “Comfortable, huh?” Her heart hammered almost out of control, making her slightly light-headed. “The window?”

“We will be able to see them, but they won’t be able to see us.”

“And what will we be watching? Someone being whipped?”

“Maybe,” Wren answered. “One never knows what’s behind the curtain until we open it up.”

Caroline diverted her shocked gaze to the window. “So right now, something is happening on the other side of the glass?”

“Open it and find out.”

She licked her lips and then rose, replacing the tumbler of liquor back on the table. As the reality of Perversions started to sink in, her fingers trembled a little as she reached for the pull and slowly slid the curtain aside.

She wasn’t quite sure what she expected. An orgy maybe, perhaps several people tied down, being spanked or flogged, wearing enough leather to populate a herd of cows. Instead, she saw a man and a woman, kissing, fondling each other, both naked and moving to music Caroline herself could not hear.

“If you turn up the volume you’ll be able to hear them,” Wren said.

Caroline looked at the wall and saw a small button. She turned it and instantly, the soft strains of music piped in. A beautiful, lyrical song serenaded the dancers. They moved as one, flowing together, using the melody to guide them. It was a type of graceful ballet, only their feet did not move. Instead, their arms and hands became the platform of beauty, twirling around each other like a snake charmed by a flute. The man picked up the tiny woman and settled her onto his thick cock, and again, their rhythm matched the piece of music. Up and down he moved her, like she was floating on water. After a few minutes he changed her position, and she rode him reverse cowboy, the entire time her hands dancing through the air.

Her position shifted every few minutes, but her partner would execute the move gracefully, until Caroline decided that what she watched wasn’t a live sex show but really a beautiful interpretation of art. Her breath caught in her throat each time the man would move his lover into another stance, the harmonious fitting of the pair beyond exquisite.

Caroline grew hot, a fine sheen of sweat covering her forehead. Her nipples hardened into little pebbles. She felt liquid heat pooling between her thighs. She waited with anticipation for the dancing couple to climax, silently urging them onward to that pinnacle of absolute pleasure.

She could see the man start to fall apart, but only by subtle hints. The tightening of his lips, the grip he had on his lover’s hips starting to whiten, and his cock swelling with each thrust. And just as Caroline was positive he was about to come, the light went out and the music stopped.

Caroline blinked. “Hey! Come back!” She looked at Wren, who watched her with narrowed eyes. “Bring them back.”

“I can’t do that. The show is timed,” Wren explained quietly.

Caroline turned back to the dark window, her hands clenched by her sides, tension heavy through her shoulders. “That’s not fair,” she muttered.

Wren stood and placed his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them. “It’s not supposed to be fair. We picked pleasure, not participation.”

“That was the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” she said, letting her head fall forward as he rubbed.

“Do you still call it porn?”

She shook her head.

“You’re the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered in her ear, his breath tickling, causing her stomach to tighten in wicked response. She bent over slightly, bringing her rear into direct contact with the hard bulge between his legs. She wiggled her hips, working his cock deeper between her ass cheeks.

“I want you,” she moaned.

In response, Wren lifted her under her arms and picked her up, sitting her ass on the table. He spread her knees wide, her dress hiking up high on her thighs. Caroline’s eyes widened as he pulled aside her thong to expose her. Kneeling down, he blew across her slit and the cool air hit her heat like a hammer hitting a nail. She moaned again and fell back as Wren lowered his face and made a feast of her.

As his middle finger pushed in, his lips trapped her clit. He bit gently, tugging a little, and then sucking so hard she almost leapt off the table. He alternated with licking, using his tongue to settle her for a moment before sucking her clit once more into his warm mouth.

Over and over he repeated the process, each time bringing her to the edge of orgasm and then backing off. Teasing her. Tormenting her until she begged for release. Then suddenly he was gone, leaving her bereft and aching. She pushed up on her elbows to look at him, her eyes unfocused and her lower lip red from her teeth biting it.

“What do you want, Caroline?” He asked her, and her only consolation was the fact that his voice had gone husky from his own arousal. She could smell the musky bite of their sex in the air.

“I want you,” she replied, almost pleading. “Isn’t that why you chose pleasure? For me to experience––”

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