The Black Door (22 page)

Preston sighed. He had come there for answers, but still didn’t have anything concrete to tell the senator. “Well, son, I hope you’re right. I have a lot riding on this nomination. I’ve never wanted anything so badly. I’ve wanted to be a justice ever since I saw pictures of lynched men hanging from trees like forbidden fruit, with no one to right the injustices that they suffered. Sitting on the Supreme Court is
the
single most important thing in my life, more important than anything or
anybody.
I can finally be that voice for the voiceless victims of this world,” he said adamantly.

All Ariel could hear was that sitting on the Supreme Court was more important than anything and anyone to Preston, and she almost hit the ceiling. The vein in her forehead was pulsing so hard that it felt like it was going to pop. She knew where Preston’s priorities lay, but hearing him actually say the words hurt her to the core. Suddenly she felt like the little orphan girl that nobody wanted. She had felt horrible about fucking Trey, but now she didn’t regret one single second she had spent with him.

Trey walked toward the door. “Don’t worry, Dad. I’m sure everything will be okay I hate to end this conversation, but I have an important meeting and have to finish getting dressed,” he said, rushing his father out of his apartment. He was certain that Ariel was out of the shower by now and didn’t want her to overhear any more of their conversation than necessary.

“Oh, okay,” Preston said, slightly defeated. “See you later.”

Trey slumped down on the sofa once his father was gone. He couldn’t believe the sudden turn of events.

“That was close,” Ariel said, coming out of the bedroom wearing only a towel. She walked over to Trey and stood in between his legs. “Look . . . maybe we should tell him about us,” she said. Ariel was stunned by her own words once she heard them float through the air. Telling Preston was the worst thing they could do, and she knew it was just that hurt, orphaned little girl, afraid of being abandoned once again who was lashing out.

“What?” He looked up shocked. As far as he was concerned, there was no “us.” “I don’t think that’s a good idea. He has too much on his plate.” Trey couldn’t think straight. Not only was he fucking his dad’s woman, he was fucking with his chances of sitting on the Supreme Court. Suppose the investigators found out about The Black Door? What then?

THE LAST
time Mason roamed the salacious corridors of The Black Door, he had been a server, whose only purpose was to keep the client smiling, which could mean anything from an intelligent conversation over a glass of champagne, to licking clits or pleasing multiple women at once. Thankfully, the only person Mason had to please this time around was his boss. As the assistant manager, he didn’t have to perform on demand, which made returning to the club a dream job instead of a chore. One of the fringe benefits of working at The Black Door was easy access to the punanny. Now if he wanted to indulge in a little extracurricular activity, it was his choice—not theirs—and that made the prospect of fucking a member or two even more appealing.

With the bronze-toned mask tied securely around the upper portion of his face, concealing his eyes and nose, Mason strolled casually through the club. He hadn’t been in the inner sanctum of The Black Door in a while, and he wanted to peruse each chamber to see where they could make improvements. He not only wanted to help increase membership, but planned to add value to the club by expanding on its theme of erotic suites. He thought about adding a Brazilian wax room, where members could get their pubic hairs removed and at the same time get their clitoris stimulated; or a Mani/Pedi Suite where members could indulge in toe-sucking pedicures. However, there was one thing he definitely wouldn’t change and that was the main floor. Elegant and inviting, the parlors with their posh, ultramodern Louis XVI furnishings were the perfect introduction to the club. The parlors were nonthreatening, which was important, especially for new members who could be intimidated if confronted with too much stimulation too soon. The rooms on the ground level lured members in with soft music and soothing drinks in a relaxed environment. With half-clad, buffed male servers and horny, scantily dressed women, the air was heavy with sexual tension, but it wasn’t overwhelming like some of the rooms on the upper floors.

Mason nodded at a server wearing a hunter-green mask who was standing beside the vodka fountain engaging two members with a witty tale. He didn’t hear the entire joke, but it must have been funny, because the women were howling with laugher. Mason knew exactly who was behind the green mask. Rodney was a budding comic and used every opportunity to practice his craft. He loosened members up with his wry sense of humor before taking them upstairs to tickle their vulvas.

Mason crossed the parlor floor and made his way through the crimson velvet drapes and up the narrow staircase that led to the second floor. Tonight the sounds of sex overshadowed the smooth jazz playing in the background, and hearing the moans of pleasure floating through the atmosphere was extremely arousing. Mason’s cock immediately reacted to the hedonistic groans as he strolled down the darkened corridor. He was way past horny—it had been months since he had seen a pussy up close and personal—and ready to fuck anything moving. Tonight his mission was twofold: one, to look for ways to improve the club, and two, to get his freak on. He figured it was far safer to get laid at the club. The members were all screened for sexual diseases, so he didn’t have to worry about catching an STD from a random stranger. He could have made a booty call, but didn’t want the complications of screwing someone he knew. He wanted to fuck without feelings, and all the women he knew were ready for monogamous relationships. He didn’t want to chance someone misconstruing his middle-of-the-night call, thinking that he too wanted a relationship. Settling down was the last thing on his mind. Mason liked variety—young, old, skinny, plump, short, tall, black, or white—and planned to experiment with as many pussies as he could get his cock into before reciting vows at the altar.

Mason stopped at the Voyeurism Room and peered through the window. He enjoyed watching people having sex, almost as much as he enjoyed the act itself. On the other side of the glass were two women and a server. One woman was on all fours in the middle of the king-size bed, while the server stood on his knees behind her, rubbing his pole-sized dick against the inside of her thighs. The second woman lay still on her back, spread eagle, directly underneath the first woman. At first glance, the scene didn’t look exciting at all. It just appeared as if the guy was masturbating, but Mason knew better and stood there until the real action kicked off. And sure enough, seconds later, the server pushed the woman down onto her elbows, so that her mouth landed on the other woman’s bushy triangle. Now with the woman’s ass high in the air, he spread her cheeks apart and slowly inched his rod into her anus. The woman backed up and wiggled her ass toward him for easier access. Once he was all the way inside, he arched his back and began ramming in and out of her tight ass. She bent down even farther, stuck out her tongue, and started licking the perimeter of the other woman’s vagina. She trailed her tongue down to the hood of the woman’s clit, lifted it back, and began hungrily munching the woman’s hidden treasure. Mason salivated as he watched the woman getting butt-fucked, while at the same time eating out another woman’s pussy. He rubbed his own throbbing cock as the three came simultaneously. He was so horny that he nearly came in his pants right along with them. He wiped the drool from the corner of his mouth and swallowed hard. His throat was parched from quietly panting as he watched the heated action.

I
need a drink,
he thought, and walked toward the Leopard Lounge. Mason nodded to the bartender as he made his way to one of the leopard-print booths. He had a massive hard-on and wanted to sit in the back in one of the private booths so that he could soothe his aching cock.

A waiter came over and he ordered a single-malt Scotch. The bar was dimly lit, and was even darker in the back where the booths were, allowing discretion for those indiscreet moments. Once the waiter returned with his drink, Mason told him that would be all for now. He wanted to stroke his throbbing cock and didn’t want to be disturbed. Mason unzipped his leather pants and let the head of his dick peek through the opening of the zipper. He closed his eyes and rubbed the tip with his thumb. Mason needed a good fuck and opened his eyes to see if there were any prospects in the room. When he had walked in, no one was sitting at the bar, but now there was a woman with her back to him. He squinted so that he could see better, and from where he sat, he could tell that she had short blond hair and was wearing a back-baring halter dress. One look at her precision haircut and he knew exactly who it was.

She swiveled around on the stool with an ornate flute in her hand. Only one cocktail was served in a handblown crystal glass and it was The Black Door, named appropriately after the club. The drink consisted of champagne with a splash of vodka, iced-cold, and garnished with a black seedless Chilean grape.

Mason watched as she sipped the effervescent cocktail, and when she neared the end of the drink, she tilted the flute upward, causing the grape to tumble gently to her lips. She caught the plump piece of fruit between her front teeth and took it out of her mouth. She began expertly peeling the delicate skin from the grape. Her long manicured nails sliced into the dark outer layer, pulling back piece after piece until the fruit’s firm pale flesh was revealed. She seemed to sense that he was watching and really began to put on a show.

Mason unbuttoned his pants, took his cock all the way out, and stroked himself as she slowly and seductively sucked the naked fruit. The way she wrapped her lips around the grape, as if it were her most precious possession, was enticing and made him wish that he could replace that grape with his cock.

After she had finished with the decadent fruit display, she popped the grape into her mouth and savored its sweet juices. She then put the empty flute on the bar and got up from the stool.

Mason thought that she was leaving, but to his delight, she sauntered knowingly toward him. She was a classy woman who knew exactly what she wanted, and at the moment she wanted him. With each one of her steps, his cock pulsated, aching to be inside of her.

“Long time no see,” she said, eying him up and down. “Want some company?” She licked her lips seductively, standing before him.

Mason looked up and his eyes were instantly drawn to her neck. She was wearing her signature diamond necklace, whose graduated, faceted stones sparkled underneath the overhead penlights. The diamonds were blinding and he blinked from the glare. “Too long. Where have you been hiding?” He hadn’t seen her since their heated night of fucking at The W Hotel.

“In D.C.,” she simply said.

“Welcome back to the city. We’ve missed you,” he said, stroking Mr. Big.

She licked her lips again at the site of his mammoth member. She hadn’t had mind-blowing sex in months; though she loved her husband dearly, his equipment wasn’t big enough to satisfy her needs. “And I’ve missed the both of you,” she said, sliding into the booth beside him.

Mason rubbed her bare back before slipping his hand though the left side of her halter dress and caressing her breast. She scooted closer and put her hand on top of his pulsating cock.

“Hmm . . .” She moaned as she began kneading the head of his penis. “Oh, how I’ve missed Mr. Big.”

“And he’s missed you too,” he said, slowly raising up her dress until the hem was past her waist, exposing her naked bottom. He fingered her labia and felt the soft lips swell with his touch. After a few minutes of teasing her outer vaginal area, he stuck two fingers inside of her moist, juicy canal. Now that they were both primed and ready, he whispered in her ear, “Sit on my cock.”

She didn’t say another word, just lifted herself off of the seat and straddled him. He firmly gripped her waist and pushed her farther down on Mr. Big. The moment he penetrated her, she threw her head back, and grabbed hold of his shoulders for support, then slowly rode him up and down. His cock was so big and thick, unlike her husband’s puny penis, and she loved how it filled up her pussy, something her husband could never accomplish.

She threw her head back and whispered, “Fuck me harder, Mr. Big.”

Mason raised his hips and thrust his dick in deeper and harder until she was on the brink of orgasm.

She held on to him and rode them both into ecstasy. Once they both came, she climbed off as easily as she had mounted him. “I see you still have the magic touch.” She smiled, pulling her dress down. “Now I can go home a happy woman.”

“When are you leaving?”

“I’m taking the Acela back to D.C. tomorrow,” she said, getting up to leave.

“How about we meet for some love in the afternoon?” he smiled suggestively.

“Oh, I wish I could, but I’m leaving on the 8
A.M.
train.” She leaned over and kissed him full on the lips. “But trust me, I’ll see both of you,” she nodded to his crotch, “real soon.” And with that she was gone.

Totally satisfied, Mason leaned back in the booth and watched her disappear into the darkness.