There are bowls of condoms on the counter and men moving about the dimly-lit space, some naked, some dressed. I grab a rubber and head over to a curtained stall to get myself ready. Some guys aren’t shy about making themselves hard out in the open. I’ll do just about anything, but I’ll save jacking myself off in public for sexier scenarios.
As I peel open my jeans, I find my man already at half-staff. It’s like he knows we’re in a sex club, reacting the same way a dog might react to pulling up to the dog park. Ready to play.
Sorry, bud. We’re just here to watch.
It only takes a simple reminder of the shit that went down last night to get my cock hard enough to roll on the condom. Isabel cuffed to that bench. Hunter coming down her throat. The look on his face as he climaxed. The way his abs contracted and his tattoos practically rippled with his orgasm.
All right, I should stop, or I’m going to blow early and miss my chance to experience the dark sex cave.
I’ve already decided I’m going to go into the room fully clothed. It’ll help to keep a barrier between me and anyone with the wrong idea. So, with my jeans still undone, I take my safely-sheathed cock out to the bouncer to show him that I’m ready to play…although I’m really ready to do absolutely nothing.
A waste of a condom, if you ask me.
The bouncer nods appreciatively at my cock and gives me a flirty wink before opening the door to let me in. “Have fun,” he mutters before I disappear into the darkness.
True to its name, it’s dark as fuck in here. Easing my way in, I watch the green glow-in-the-dark markers on the floor that lead me through the room, so I don’t topple over people or furniture.
I hear grunting off to the side, and I pause for a moment, trying to see who or what made the noise, but I can’t make out shit. There are more of the glow-in-the dark markers on the floor and a few on the walls with exclamation points stationed at various spots. Those must be the emergency buttons Mario told us about. And when I spot a green dot moving, I realize it’s on a bouncer.
When someone touches my arm, I flinch. “Excuse me,” the man mumbles before brushing past me. It’s such an eerie feeling, knowing anyone in here could touch me. I could literally fuck someone in here and never know what they look like or what their name is. It’s bizarre as hell when you think about it. But also…strangely liberating.
It doesn’t matter what you look like here. It doesn’t matter if you know them or even if you don’t like them. It’s all about chemistry and feeling.
For the first time since I walked in, I’m actually regretful that I can’t do anything because it sounds fun as fuck. Playing the field without knowing who you’re even playing with. Or, if you’ve played with them before. Hell, I bet this would be a great way to date. No judgment or preconceived notions. Just two souls finding each other.
It’s almost romantic, if you think about it.
The grunting to my right doesn’t sound very romantic, though. Leaving them behind, I keep on walking through the green markers. I hear more sex on either side of me and as my eyes start to adjust, I meander away from the path and find an empty space to just be alone and observe—as much as I can when I can’t see shit.
I feel someone watching me. It’s too hard to make out for sure, but there’s definitely a figure standing a few feet away, and I get the feeling that they’re staring at me—if that’s even possible. Glancing up at the ceiling, I spot the red blink of a security camera on each corner, which is reassuring. They really do try to keep shit safe in here.
I hear footsteps approach before I feel a set of small hands brush over my biceps. “Oh, hey,” a soft voice says as he fondles the muscle through my shirt. He sounds young and he’s definitely a lot smaller than me.
“Move along, kid,” I say, pressing a hand gently against his arm, trying to lead him toward a more willing person in the room.
“I’ll suck your dick,” he says sweetly, still touching my arm.
“That’s sweet, but no thanks.”
“You waiting for someone? I love a party.”
See? Never subtle.
“Have a good night,” I reply, hoping he just gets the hint and takes off. His fingers linger, dragging a line across my abdomen as he walks away, and I let him have his moment. If all he wants is a little touch, then knock yourself out.
But his fingers are only gone for a moment, before I’m ambushed by someone much larger and stronger. I panic, throwing up my arms as a firm hand grips the back of my neck and turns me away from the young guy, pushing me farther into the room. I stumble through the dark, afraid of walking into someone or over something. When I glance back at the man guiding me, I catch the subtle outline of something on his face and realize he’s wearing the night-vision goggles the bouncers wear.