Thirst

They had wandered, leisurely, in from the shiny wet streets of New Orleans and ensconced themselves in the front window table. The zebra-skinned bench was just big enough for two and they sat so close to one another, that it was difficult in the dim light to see where she ended and he began.

Dinner had been at one of those classic restaurants that required a degree of respect and their clothes reflected it: he was in a classic button-down oxford with a red stripe and khaki pants and she wore a halter sundress with a floral pattern that grazed the top of her knees in the front, but hung down to her sandals in the back.

As they waited for the waiter to take their drink order, he leaned down to kiss the bare shoulder closest to him and felt her damp skin react under his lips. Her left hand brushed against his thigh, and her eyes smiled up at him.

A polite, softly spoken "Good evening" from the tuxedoed waiter broke the affection only long enough to order an Old Fashioned for him and a Sidecar for her.

He brought his right hand up to graze the spot he had kissed, continuing to trail his fingers up her neck and then running them through her hair which fell in waves on her shoulder. His eyes looked intently back into hers.

While the fingers of her left hand continued to trace circles on his thigh, her right hand sought his left and she brought it to her mouth to press her lips against his palm before their fingers clasped and unclasped, caressed, and entwined, as if dancing.

The bar was not quiet. Other tables were full and the bar was lively. Edith Piaf was singing "je ne regrette rien" overhead. There was the general clinking of glasses and rattling of ice. Because they were in the window there was the occasional noise from the street.

They heard none of this. All she could hear was the sound her red nails made as they traced patterns on his khakis. He was only interested in the sound her lips had made on his hand, the soft puff of air as her skin had separated from his.

The bar is famous for its decor, for its lavish attention to detail, for its clientele. Locals, celebrities, and tourists rub elbows in the opulent setting enjoying the conversation and strong drinks of the head bartender, himself a celebrity in his own right. It is a place to see and be seen.

They saw none of this. All he could see were her eyes, dark brown pools framed by long, thick lashes that reflected his face when they caught the light. She was only interested in staring back at him, memorizing the lines of his forehead, nose, and lips.

Drinks had appeared in front of them, but none of their hands were free, or willing, to reach for them. She licked her upper lip as her eyes passed over his mouth, indicating a thirst that could not be satisfied by the liquid in her glass.

She tilted her head slightly as fingers wrapped around her hair and pulled gently so that when he lowered his head to her, his mouth was just below her ear.

"What do you want?" he whispered before placing a soft, small kiss on her neck, followed by one on her ear.

"For you to do that again."

He obliged and let his lips linger a little longer against her skin. Her fingers pressed firmer against his thigh and their clasped hands stilled for a moment.

She turned her head so that her cheek met his, relishing the warmth of his skin against hers. And she slowly pulled back so that as she continued to turn her head, her lips grazed his cheek and finally found what she sought.

Kissing first the corner of his mouth, almost chastely, before the hand in her hair took control and moved her mouth fully over his. Two sets of lips parted and pressed as one. Slowly, firmly, they explored and tasted. A tongue would lick a lower lip to be followed by another reaching out to meet it.

That slow burn was beginning to ache.

She slid her hand up his thigh.

He lowered his hand from her head to her waist and pulled her closer.

Her lips pulled away, to breathe, and she trailed kisses up his cheek to his ear, breathless, wanting.

"Do you think..." kiss

"they'll mind..." an earlobe sucked into her mouth

"if we ask for a go-cup?"

She felt him smile against her neck and her body flushed with excitement.

The waiter was not surprised they asked for their drinks to go.

They stepped out into the liquid air that is New Orleans in summer, one hand holding a drink, the other holding a hand. The tension of wanting to walk fast versus the wanting to walk slow to savor their time made them smile at each other.

She stopped to sip from her drink and he took the opportunity to gently push her against a brick wall. When she lowered the cup, his mouth replaced it and his body pressed against her. She held her drink away from them but wrapped her other arm around his neck and fisted her fingers into his hair, pulling him to her. She liked the weight of his body on her and she moaned against his mouth. His empty hand splayed along her hip, fingers reaching between her and the wall to find the flesh of her ass.

There were no more questions. They walked fast, moving away from the noise and light of the tourist-filled streets of the French Quarter. The sound of her heeled sandals on the flagstones grew louder as the other sounds faded and he looked down to catch sight of her slim ankles and painted toes trying to keep up with his long strides. He smirked and the image in his head of those ankles on his shoulders while his teeth grazed a painted toe made the blood rush to his cock and he groaned.

"We're almost there, love," she whispered eagerly as they reached the corner and she turned right towards the hotel. She gasped and stumbled slightly when he surprised her by pulling her to the left and across the street, away from the bedroom where she knew her new lingerie and their favorite toys were laid out.

"Where are we going?"

"I have a surprise for you, kitten," and he stopped and looked down at her, his hands on her shoulders, thumbs rubbing up her clavicle.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, and his eyes searched her for resistance or questioning that her words might try to hide.

"Of course," she said, "but I was so hoping we were heading back." her voice soft and her hands wanting as she ran one up his chest and the other down his torso, over the zipper of his pants and around to his hip.

"I know, but I promise you," and he tilted her chin up as he brought his lips to her left ear, "great pleasure."

He nipped at her earlobe and kissed the side of her neck as his hands moved forward to caress her breasts, his thumbs pushing over her nipples before he pulled away, smiled, and took her hand.

"Shall we?"

Even if she wanted, she could never say no. She loved him and trusted him like no other. Since they had met (a story for another time) they had been inseparable and those who knew them could not imagine a time when the two of them weren't together. In social situations, they exuded class and kindness and were pillars of their community. Both had experienced personal tragedies that had played out publicly and they had met, as if the universe was granting them both life preservers, shortly thereafter. In private, however, their lust for each other was insatiable. The electricity that flowed between them was undeniable and they had left more than one party or event early because she had given him a look or he had flashed a smile and their need to touch, to taste, to be consumed by the other took precedent over any social norm.

They walked another block and he stopped them in front of a dark blue door with a gold knocker in the shape of a female bowsprit above a peephole. He knocked twice and smiled at her.

"I love you," he said, "and we can leave whenever you want."

"Where are we? What is this place?"

Before he could answer her, the door was opened by a couple who smiled at them both and welcomed them inside. The man was wearing a smoking jacket the same color as the door. The woman was wearing a silk robe, tied at the waist and the same deep blue.

"Welcome to Le Ciel. We're so glad you made a reservation and are joining us tonight. The club has three floors. On this floor you'll find a locker room to leave your belongings and get a robe. There's a staircase in the back that goes up to the second floor. There you'll find our bar and entertainment, as well as some private rooms. The third floor is our playroom where you're welcome to use our equipment or any of your own. You'll find condoms, cleaning cloths, and restrooms on all levels. If you have any questions at all, I'm Marco, and Paulette and I are always available."

They were shepherded into the hallway and saw that there were signs indicating the locker room. Marco and Paulette left them there and made their way towards the staircase leading upwards. Murmurs of music and talking floated down from above them.

"I booked us when we decided to make the trip here. We've been talking about this fantasy for some time, and I thought it was time we try it out. How are you feeling?"

His eyes didn't leave hers. He wanted this, but he'd walk out right now and take her back to the hotel if she asked. He knew she was unsure, but he also knew that her sexual desires and drive belied her professional and modest outward appearance. He put his hands on her hips and pulled her closer.

"I love you and I trust you," she said, "although I am a little nervous." She took a deep breath and gave him the same smile that melted him the night they met.

"Let's do this."

He leaned down and kissed her, tongue pushing forward and his hand on the back of her head pulling her into him. His other hand pulled her ass forward and she moaned as their full bodies made contact. He backed them into the locker room.

"You will never know how much I want you, always," he panted as he pulled away from her.

She sighed and licked her lips. They found a locker that had been reserved for them and they began to take their clothes off. It was difficult for them not to touch each other or slow their process. He reached out to graze a nipple as she removed the pale pink strapless bra with the lace overlay. She ran a hand down his hip and passed it across his ass when he turned to put his pants in the locker. She was aware of how wet she was, and the scent of her arousal as she handed him her matching thong. He held it to his nose for a moment and growled before adding it to the rest of the locker's contents. They both donned blue robes. One last kiss and they walked out of the room and made their way up the stairs to the second level.

The second level of Le Ciel looked like the high-end lounge of a particularly expensive hotel. The main room had a large ornately carved wooden bar with velvet tufted stools. The paneled walls were covered in mirrors and brass sconces that diffused the light and created the illusion that the room was lit only by the candles on the bar, and the low tables along the opposite wall and in niches near the stairs and doorways. At the far end of the room, a three-piece jazz trio was backing up a woman singing Thelonious Monk's "Round Midnight".

The space wasn't crowded, but there were a few couples at the bar and several of the low tables were occupied. What made the scene standout was the fact that everyone was either wearing a blue robe or was naked. The chanteuse herself was topless, wearing her robe tied around her waist as if it were a skirt. Her caramel-colored skin glowed in the soft light and the rings in her nipples reflected and shimmered as her body moved to the music.

They made their way to the bar and sat, taking in the scene around them. He ordered them both an Old Fashioned and took her hand.

"What do you think?"

"It's beautiful in here. The singer is gorgeous, and her voice is incredible."

"I understand she has many talents," he said through a smirk as their drinks arrived.

"To us."

"To us."

He pulled her stool closer to him and snaked a hand inside her robe and rested it on her hip.

"What else do you see?"

She looked around the room, taking in the people sitting at the other tables and at the bar. They were couples of all ages and shapes. As her eyes acclimated to the light, she also saw that some of the people were wearing collars attached to leashes. Many of the patrons had untied their robes and bodies were being touched and rubbed. A couple stood from their table and made their way down a hallway before turning into a room. The woman seated next to them at the bar, stood with her partner, a breast peeking out from her robe, turned to them, and said, "See you upstairs after the show."

She looked at him as she felt her abdomen contract and her skin prickle.

"Oh my," she said with a sly grin.

"Just wait."

The song ended and the room applauded. The singer moved the microphone and removed her robe. She thanked them for their applause, and then lowered herself so that she was kneeling before them.

A tall, muscular man came onto the stage. He was naked as he stood next to the singer, his right hand caressing her hair.

"I hope you've all enjoyed my pet tonight. Isn't her voice amazing?"

The crowd agreed.

"Don't you think she deserves more than applause for that fine performance? She and I will be upstairs this evening if you'd care to join us."

He helped her to her feet and kissed her, his hands cupping her ass while his mouth moved from her lips down to her breasts where he pulled at each nipple ring before kissing her belly. She did not touch him, but kept her hands behind her back, although the passionate look on her face made clear her wanting. He ran his hands up her legs as he brought his mouth down to her shaved pussy and moved her legs apart slightly. He blew lightly on her and everyone saw her shiver. He smiled, stood, kissed her nose, and whispered something in her ear that made her blush and smile. He reached behind her to take her hands and then led her off the stage and they walked to the stairs leading up to the third floor.

As they passed the bar, the smell of arousal and sweat was heady. The Old Fashioneds were long finished. She realized that she had held her breath while watching the singer and her partner. She exhaled and he took her face in his hands.

"Should we go upstairs?" He whispered close to her face before leaning in to kiss her, his eyes open and searching hers. A thumb caressed her flushed cheek and he knew that she was excited and that she wanted the experience, but he was not going to rush her.

"Do you only want to watch?" She said, wondering if he was planning on other partners. That wasn't something they had ever talked about and she wasn't sure how she felt about sharing him.

"Oh, no," he growled into her ear, "I fully intend to fuck you so hard that you see stars. But only you. The thought of the others seeing you in full passion makes me so hard that it hurts." And he brought her hand under his robe so she could feel his throbbing, leaking cock and she shuddered and leaned into him as she slid off the chair. She kissed his chest before taking his hand and silently leading him towards the stairs.

***

There were ten stairs between the second and third floor of Le Ciel. She was walking in front of him and on the second stair he moved his hand under her robe and pressed it against her thigh, gently running a hand down to her calf as she stepped up. On the sixth stair, she hesitated and turned to look at him and he pulled her robe apart slightly so he could see the rounds of her breasts and her soft torso above the belt. He leaned forward and nuzzled his nose into her cleavage, smelling her perfume, and pressed his lips against the warm skin.

She ran a hand over his head and sighed. She would not have complained if he had pulled her down and taken her on those stairs. She briefly wondered if it was allowed. She stepped back and upward to the seventh step. He kept his hands on her hips as he followed. On the tenth and final step she moved to the side so he could stand next to her, and they took in the scene.

The room was lit by candles and dim chandeliers. Along the left wall were five alcoves that hid navy velvet tufted day beds behind silver satin curtains that could be pulled shut for some amount of privacy. Across from the alcoves was a row of upholstered benches of various shapes and sizes in front of a mirrored wall. In the center of the room was a raised stage with an ornate four-post canopy brass bed. The canopy was made from the same silk as the alcove curtains and the posts of the bed were decorated with bowsprits like the one at the club entrance. The sheets and pillows were navy satin. At the far end of the room the wall was padded in the same navy velvet.

She did not see any of this at first. And as her eyes acclimated to the low lighting, it was what she heard and not what she saw that made her heart race. The sounds of sex, of pleasure, of release, of longing washed over her. Before she saw the couple in the first alcove, she heard the woman moaning as her partner lapped at her sex while thrusting his fingers deeply into her. She heard the threesome on a crescent moon shaped bench, a woman seated, her head turned to the side and loudly sucking on a man's cock while he held her head and directed her cadence, offering up his encouragement.

"Yeah, baby, that's it. Take it. Show me what a good girl you are."

At the other end of the bench, her legs were wrapped around a man who grunted with each thrust of his cock into her pussy. One hand on her hips, the other grinding against her slick clit. Every time his hips hit hers, she bounced forward onto the other man's cock.

Their eyes adjusted and he took her hand and led her along the row of alcoves. Each one contained a couple or groups, entangled and deep into their own activities. As they passed the fourth alcove, she recognized the woman who had spoken to them at the bar. She was lying on her back, her robe open while her partner laid on top, languidly sucking on a nipple. She moaned while she ran her hands over his arms.

"Please," she panted, "I need you inside me."

The man used his teeth to gently distend the nipple as he raised his head to look her in the eyes with a devilish grin. He slowly shook his head no, letting her breast drop from his mouth.

"Not until you're begging for it, darling."

The fifth alcove was also occupied, and they walked back to the padded wall. He pressed her up against it, his body flush with hers. He placed a hand up to her head and swept a strand of hair behind her ear.

"We could teach them all a thing or two," he whispered and was glad it made her eyes laugh and her mouth curl into a smile.

He slowly untied his robe so that he was open to her and reached out to untie hers. There was nothing between their skin now and she felt him, hard, against her abdomen. She inhaled sharply as his hand reached behind her to the crease of her ass and thigh and pulled her legs slightly apart. She gasped when he brought his hand back to his cock and slid it between her legs and through the moisture that had been gathering there.

"Oh, babe. You're so wet already," he whispered, looking into her eyes, and leaning down to kiss her and place his forehead on hers.

"I could sink into you right now. Would you like that? Would that feel good, kitten?" His cock planted between her legs he slid his hand up her torso to cup a breast, running a thumb in circles over her nipple.

She wanted to close her eyes and abandon herself to the tight knots in her stomach and the feeling of his skin on hers. She loved the way he felt inside her and the thought of him taking her against that wall was making her shudder and it felt like warm butter was trickling down her thighs. But she couldn't close her eyes. Her eyes, normally fully captivated by his, were glued to the action beginning on the bed in the middle of the room.