Page 62 of The Secret Club
Hot ropes of come spurt up towards his belly button and he groans in euphoria. I gradually stop stroking him and instead lie down against his side. He turns his head, and smiles shyly again, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I grin back at him.
“You are perfect.”
“So are you,” I reply warmly.
“I should go get cleaned up.”
“You should, I think you got your t-shirt,” I say playfully.
“Yeah, I think I did.” And with that, he sits up, trying to catch the come as it dribbles back down his stomach and walks into the bathroom. It’s then I look up to see Tom staring back at me, a mixture of emotions fighting on his face. He wants to speak to me maybe or join in? But he’s angry at me for doing this, is that what Cook said yesterday? I don’t know. I feel something radiating off him. Anger? Jealousy?
Carl comes back into the room, finds his trousers and starts pulling them on. I want to ask him a thousand questions about himself, but I know we’re not allowed to unless they offer. Instead, I say, “Will you be here all day or do you leave now?”
He looks up and grins, “I’m staying here. I don’t want to miss a minute of your time here.”
“You were here yesterday too?”
“Yes. Just on the other side of this glass.”
“Really.” I frown a little, “With anyone else?”
“Indeed, I was with most of the guys, all patiently waiting their turn and plotting their time with you.”
“You were? And do you like watching?”
“Yes. Not as much as I like shaving you but it’s enjoyable watching the others with you.”
“Do you know my plans for today?”
“I do.”
“Are you allowed to tell me?”
“You have David visiting this morning.”
“He’s the impact guy?”
“Yes, BDSM is his thing.”
“And this afternoon? Will I meet the other three men?”
“Blake and Jake are playing with you tomorrow. And I think you’ll meet Darcy soon enough.” He winks.
“He came to visit me last night?” I ask, trying to confirm if my suspicions were right. Confused how I did not hear, or feel, a thing.
“Yes, I think he might be visiting you every night, it just depends on if you wake up whether you will meet him sooner or not.”
“Did you see him visit me?”
“Yes.”
“How did I not?” I ask, shuddering at just how deeply I must have slept. I can’t believe it; how did I not feel him?
“He’s a magician, if you wake, you will find out,” he teases, not willing to let me in on the secret clearly.
The classical music that has been playing quietly in the background changes to an upbeat jazz tune and Carl takes that as his hint to leave. “See you tomorrow princess,” he says as he bends down and kisses me softly on the lips.
