Page 50 of Tarek

“Hey, if this is all too much for you. I can drop you back home. It’s no problem. You don’t have to do any of this.”

Don’t tell him anything Pen, don’t tell him.“I was just thinking about the fact that I brought all my exes to orgasm and none of them as ever brought me.”

Aaaaaand there it goes. Straight from my mouth with no stops along the way. Am I suffering from mouth diarrhea? I clutch the hem of his jacket like maybe that’ll keep the rest of my thoughts from slipping out of my mouth. “Come again?” Why is he blinking rapidly like I just delivered some unbelievable news? Shit.

It was too late to climb out of the hole that I dug for myself. “I never had someone give me an orgasm.”

Tarek drags his knuckles lightly along his chin, a slow smile curls at his lips “We will have to rectify that. Come this way. Hold my hand.”

I grip his hand like my life depended on it. My heart is thumping, as my legs try to keep up with Tarek’s strides back to the elevator.

It doesn’t take long for us to reach down to the third floor. But this time, the halls are pitch black, only small pocket lights in the ceiling cut through the darkness. People drift along the corridors, some slipping through open doors, others are lingering outside, just watching.

Men and woman in black uniforms, stand in corners of the hallway. I am guessing these are the eagles that Tarek spoke about.

“This floor is the fantasy floor. If you can think it, we can produce it,” Tarek states confidently.

Just then we pass an open door of a man sitting in a large champagne glass, with bubbles, receiving head from a mermaid.

“So if I wanted a scene from the Odyssey, I can have it?” I ask, passing another room with people rolling about in latex dog costumes. What the fuck? I stand peering into a room watching a man drink milk from a steel bowl on the ground.

Tarek pulls me along “Rule number one, we never judge. Everyone is entitled to their fantasies.”

A door opens, and a man dressed as a doctor and another as a nurse, comes out with their hands covered in what looks like blood.

“Tarek?”

The doctor and nurse pass us tittering and talking to each other in hushed tones.

“Hematolagnia or as you know it as blood play. Some people take pleasure in blood. They love the smell, the look, and the texture.”

All I could do is nod, I didn’t know what a blood kink entailed, but I knew it wasn’t for me.

Tarek pulls me to a door that is opened. “Ah, we are just in time.”

“In time for what?”

He guides me into a dimly lit room where black sheer curtains hang like veils, sectioning off clusters of soft chairs. Each space creates an illusion of privacy. At the front of the room, a stage is illuminated by a single spotlight. Under the spotlight, there is a bed. The overall ambience is dark and sexy with soft lighting. We arrive at a single chair, and Tarek sits with his legs spread opened.

“Um Tarek, I need a seat.”

He does the impossible and taps his lap. I scoff at the thought.

“You can’t possibly be serious. I will crush you,” I state.

He widens his legs and says confidently. “Crush me? I bench press more than you weigh. Sit.”

My laugh moves through the room, as people begin to take their seats. I can only see glimpses of the members through the curtain.

Does this man not realize that I’m plus size? Not magazine plus size, more like size 20-22 plus size, rubbing-legs-hole-in-jeans kind of plus size.

“Tarek, I don’t think this a good?—”

With a strong yank, I fall on the lap of Tarek. Instantly, I sit up straight. Pressing my toes into the floor, trying not to let him feel my full weight.

“Fucking relax Penny,” he says as he bounces me on one leg and pulls me back to his chest.

“I’m not too heavy?”

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