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Of Devils & Deviants: An Anthology of Erotic Horror Page 12
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Page 12
Date Night
Shaun Meeks
He stepped into the house, and thought he could still smell the other women on his skin and cloths. He sniffed his hands, then raised his shirt to his nose and thought it was fine, barely noticeable, if at all. He was sure there was still a trace of them somewhere there, but not enough to alert his wife, Darlene, to his extracurricular activities.
Darlene was a sweet woman; he loved her still, even after twenty years of marriage, but there were just certain things he could never ask of her. He didn’t enjoy running around behind her back, but he also knew he had needs, and sometimes needs outweigh love.
He locked the door and then turned towards the dark hallway. He was glad to see the lights off, that she was already asleep. He thought he could take a quick shower and then slide into bed without disturbing her too much. That was when the light in the living room popped on. He nearly jumped.
“You’re home late. Later than usual, even.”
He turned and saw Darlene sitting on the couch under the quilt they had gotten from her grandmother on their wedding day. She looked tired, worn out and he felt guilt swell in him knowing it was his fault. He had been out after work, as usual on a Thursday, and he’d lost track of time fulfilling his own selfish desires, that he’d never considered his wife waiting up for him. Since she had to be up early in the morning to make it to work, he figured that she would already been in bed as usual.
“Sorry, honey. I sort of lost track of time. I stayed late at work then went out for a few drinks with some of the guys.”
“And is your cellphone dead? Any reason you couldn’t call, Michael?”
She called him Michael, a sure sign that she was mad at him, beyond mad. Usually she just called him honey, darling or plain old Mike. But when she was really mad, it was always his full first name.
“Sorry. I just thought you might be asleep already with you having to get up early in the morning and all. I was so busy that when I finally looked at the time it was nearly midnight.”
“So, you thought since it was already so late, you’d just stay out even later? Is this when you usually come home on Thursdays? Sneaking in the house, sneaking into bed? You don’t think I notice how late it is when you come in? What is it you’re really up to, Michael? Is there someone else? Is there?”
“Of course not. I don’t have a mistress, honey, that’s nuts. I’m too busy and love you too much to do a thing like that!”
Yet, even as he said those words, his mind was filled with the thoughts of earlier that night, entangled in the flesh of strangers, the new tastes and new scents. She would never understand what it was he needed, so lying to her was all he could do. To protect himself. To protect her.
“I don’t know about you anymore, Michael. I want to believe you. I wish I could believe that you still loved me and were faithful, but I’m not blind. You don’t look at me the same, you don’t touch me the same. It’s more like being intimate with me is a chore for you. Is it? Am I just a burden now that I’m in my forties?”
She was near tears, and Mike’s heart broke at the sight of them. He did still care about her, still thought she was as beautiful as she had been when the met years ago in college. It wasn’t her fault that there was something different about him; a desire that had grown and he couldn’t live without any longer. How was he supposed to tell her? He knew that his wife would never be able to accept him, to join in on his fetish.
He walked over to her, kneeling before her and taking her hands into his own. She was so warm.
“You are as beautiful as ever, Dar. Look at me and see that I love you just as much as I ever have. Maybe even more. I was stupid not to call or text you. I promise it won’t happen again.”
She sniffled and wiped away her tears as best she could. She tried to smile.
“I’m sorry too, Mike. I’m silly I guess. I watch these dumb shows with all these people fucking everyone else other than the person they’re with and I worry. Some days I just feel so old and so unsexy. The kids I’m teaching don’t help either. Teenagers can be cruel. Today one of them called me Old Lady Harris. I just felt like shit all day.”
“What do they know? Just look at the music these kids are listening to and ask yourself if their opinions matter. Seriously? If you’re an old lady, you’re the hottest granny I’ve ever seen.”
Darlene laughed and hugged her husband. She pulled back her head and kissed him. Her lips were soft and warm, salty from the tears, but Mike kissed her back, pulling her to him. His hands slid over her body, touching her through her thin, almost sheer nightgown, and he found those spots that made her wet.
The backs of her arms. The nape of her neck. Caressing her nipples, teasing them.
Then his hands found the inside of her thighs, just below her pussy. His fingers slid across the soft skin of her inner thigh and he could feel the heat coming from her. She pulled her mouth from his and he kissed her cheek, moving to her ear and then her neck. Kissing. Nibbling. Licking. She moaned and thrust herself towards his hand. She was wet, more than she had been in a while, and his fingers slid into the soft folds of her. She moaned louder and he moved his head down to meet where his fingers were. Darlene pulled her nightgown up, revealing her smooth, pale legs, and the light tuft of pubic hair that always tickled his nose when he went down on her. He’d loved that feeling since the day they first met, always encouraging her to leave a little of her soft, downy hair for him.
His lips touched her clit and he took her into his mouth, sucking the little bit of flesh into his mouth, his tongue flicking at it as he went, his fingers still pushing inside her. She grasped the couch cushions as he played with her. She began to grind herself against his face and he could feel that she was about to cum.
“Stop,” she gasped, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to her. “I want you. I want you inside me. I want to cum on your cock!”
He quickly pulled his pants and underwear down, pulling his already swollen cock out as she played with her clit, watching him. She was biting her lip, waiting for him to fill her and he didn’t make her wait long. He moved to the couch, pulling her forward a bit so that her ass hung off it, and rubbed his cock on her wet pussy, using the juices that were drooling out of her as lube. Once his cock was coated in her wetness, she grabbed hold of it and guided it into her hot, wet pussy. He grabbed hold of her hips and began to pound himself into her. Her fingers continued to play with her clit and he slammed his cock into her, slowly dragged it out, letting her feel it pulsating.
“Don’t hold back. I want to feel you cum in me when I do.” She moaned and he could tell she was almost ready.
Mike closed his eyes, and fucked her harder, knowing she was already close. It felt so good, but he needed something else to help him if he was going to keep time with her. He needed something to push him over the edge. Since he had already cum twice that night, it would have to be something good.
He pictured how his night had gone earlier, thought of the new girl, her red hair, her tight little pussy, the others watching him. He loved to be watched when there was a new girl. He saw her face, her body, could smell her skin and pussy and as he had those images in his head, cumming fast was no problem. Just as his wife’s pussy began to clench, squeezing down on him, Mike pushed deep into her and came, Darlene’s throbbing pussy milking the last drops of seed out of him with her own orgasm.
He was glad she wasn’t angry at him anymore.
* * *
Things went pretty normally for the next few months. Mike still went out every Thursday night, but he made sure to come home earlier, before midnight, despite the desire to stay with his other girls. Yet, as much as he wanted to stay, to satisfy that craving of his, Mike didn’t want to have a repeat of that night with Darlene. He didn’t want to hurt her.
But he couldn’t give it up. He couldn’t just walk away.
His phone rang and he saw that it was Gus, one of the men that ran the club he visited on Thursdays. They neve
r called his phone, though he had had to provide a number when he became a member. He stepped out, not wanting to take the call around the people at his office, seeing as he had no idea why they would be calling him. It was worrisome.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Harris. This is Gus from the club. I hope you’re not busy.”
“Well, I’m at work, so if we could make this quick.”
“Of course. Sorry to have called at all, but it couldn’t be avoided. We are changing the night from Thursdays to Tuesdays. Things have come up and priorities needed to be shifted. I hope this isn’t an issue?”
“Today is Tuesday. So we’re meeting today? Shit.”
Tuesdays were an issue for him. That was normally date night for him and Darlene. They had decided that during the week they would always take one day, that day being Tuesday, to go see a movie, go for a nice dinner or even drive out to the bluffs and watch the waves while they just talked. He had no idea how he was going to explain it to his wife, knowing that he would have to back out of that with her, rather than give up the club.
“Is it going to be a problem, Mr. Harris?” Gus asked, sounding concerned.
“I guess it won’t be. Not if I want to keep coming. I will figure something out.”
“Good. We would hate to lose a member. Especially one like yourself. You inspire us all, Mr. Harris.”
Then, Gus hung up and Mike looked at his phone, thinking of texting his wife right away, but feeling too afraid. She was going to be mad, probably already having something planned out for the night, but he would make it up to her. She had been mad at him before, and he had fixed it. He would just have to do it again. Maybe a new necklace would do the trick.
He shook his head, knowing that a gift would do little to fix things. Darlene had never been one that cared about jewelry, chocolate or flowers. She was one of those people that cared more about spending time together, sharing feelings, thoughts and creating new memories. He would have to think of something because there was no way he was going to skip out on the club. He needed it.
Reluctantly, Mike sent her a message.
“HEY DARLING, I HATE TO DO THIS, BUT SOMETHING HAS COME UP AND I HAVE TO BAIL ON DATE NIGHT. WE’LL MAKE IT UP ON WEDNESDAY OR THURSDAY. PROMISE. I’M REALLY SORRY. DON’T HATE ME. LOVE YOU, DAR!”
He hit SEND and winced, knowing he was going to get a nasty message from her. She was a loving woman, but when she was mad, she was really good at letting him know. The venom she could shoot his way was pretty bad at times. He turned the ringer off on his phone, set it to vibrate, but wanted to just turn it off all together. Mike knew that he was going to be sitting around nervous, waiting for a message that told him he was a cocksucker, a piece of shit, or that she was going to leave him. He knew once he could talk to her face to face, reassure her that he was truly sorry, make her see it, she would forgive him and take it all back. But until then he would have to live with the horrible messages she would bombard his phone with, maybe even deal with a call or six.
Four hours after he had sent the message though, she still hadn’t responded. He was worried at that point, knowing she had to be beyond pissed. She usually sent something, a word even, an emoticon to show that she was fuming. Something.
He sent her a few other messages, asking her not to be mad, seeing if she was okay, telling her to message him back, but she didn’t. Worried that she had her phone off, seeing as she was teaching classes, he snuck off to the bathroom and gave her a quick call. It rang and went to voicemail, showing him that her phone was on and that she was so pissed off she wasn’t even going to take his calls.
He ended the call and wondered if he was making the right choice. Couldn’t he just go one week without the club? Wouldn’t it be better to skip it, go home and on his date with Darlene, then go to the club the following week after they’d changed the day of their date night? That would be a sure way to fix the situation, to prevent any sort of issue with Darlene, but he just couldn’t do it. He needed the club, needed those girls to do for him what his wife never could, what he would never allow her to do. He knew it was selfish, that his feelings were bordering addiction, but there was no getting around it. He was addicted, felt the need in him grow like a hunger in the days between his visits. Mike knew he would rather deal with his wife’s wrath than do without the club, the girls, and the others around him.
By the end of his work day, Darlene had still not messaged him. He grabbed his coat, thinking about calling her one last time, wondering if it would be worth it, then decided against it. He held the power button down and turned his phone off, not wanting to be distracted when he arrived at the club. He would deal with Darlene when he got home. He shoved his phone in his pocket, left the office building and headed to the club.
* * *
The building was as nondescript as they came. Once it had been used as office space and a warehouse, looking like it was just waiting to be converted into a loft space, but it was still a bit too grungy looking for that. It wasn’t in the greatest neighborhood either; probably part of the reason it had stood empty until Gus and his partners had come and scooped it up.
Most of the windows were boarded up; though a few of the higher ones still held the beveled glass it had back when the building had been in its prime. There was no sign on the front it, and the main door was boarded up as well. The only way to get inside was to walk down a dark alley to the back of the building. There, beside the overhead door, was a steel door that looked too new for the rest of what it was attached to. Two men, usually the same ones in their overly tight black t-shirts that showed just how much they loved protein powder and steroids, stood and let members in, turning away anyone that didn’t belong. Any new members had to attend with a regular of the club.
Mike had first come to the club with a man he used to play squash with at the health club, a man that had stopped coming some time ago. He wondered from time to time what had happened to him, whatever became of Thomas. Some people grew tired of the club, he was sure; others just didn’t like the risk.
To each their own.
The two muscular men nodded to Mike, opened the door and let him walk in. It was cooler inside than it was out, meaning that Gus had finally fixed the air conditioning. Some days, especially in July and August, the building was like a stone oven, so hot that it was nice to shed his clothes; but the heat meant it was a bit of a chore to have sex. Not that it stopped him. Nothing would stop him from touching and fucking the girls. Especially one of the new ones.
Mike walked down the dark hallway, already hearing the din of others that were there. He walked into the main room, candles lit around the room, a nice touch to give the room a romantic ambience. It also kept eyes off the building from the outside.
“Ah, Mr. Harris!” Gus called out from across the room where he had been standing with a few other regulars. “So glad you could make it out. I was worried that you had other plans and wouldn’t be able to come. It was very last minute. For that, I apologize.”
“Shit happens, Gus,” Mike chuckled. “How come the night was changed?”
“As you said, shit happens. It was a request though, one we felt the need to entertain.”
“So is this going to be a permanent thing? The club running on Tuesdays?”
“As far as I know it will be like this for the next little while. If things change, we’ll give you more notice.” Gus reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one and offering one to Mike. Mike, a long life non-smoker, shook it off. “To each their own, Mr. Harris.”
“So, what’s on the menu today?” Mike asked, already feeling anxious, his cock throbbing at the prospect, at the scent in the room and the thoughts and memories the club brought to him.
“We have five girls tonight, a regular buffet. One of them is new to all this, and I know how much you love that.”
“That I do.”
“Well, we’ll be getting started soon. Make sure you go sign the list so you w
ill get called early on. Many of the people already here are just observers. I think you may be the first participant of the night.”
He left Gus and walked over to Herbie, a chubby man with a beard that looked as though it had seen better days. Skanky was the only word that came to mind. Herbie was in charge of the sign-ins. He sat behind a desk, five clipboards in front of him, one for each girl. There were no names, no descriptions. Just numbers. Girl one, girl two, and so on. The only difference with the boards was that the last said, “girl five: new girl”. That excited Mike.
It was even better that nobody else had signed up for her. He would have first crack at her. New girls were great. So fresh, so tight. They still had that unspoiled look of innocence that he loved; and knowing that he would get in her first was better than anything else.
He signed up, choosing to have a shot with three of the five, knowing that he needed to save some of his energy for when he got home in case he had to fuck Darlene. Sometimes the best way to quell her anger was to fuck her until she came. Men were no different. Sex calms the savage beast better than music ever could.
While he waited for the fun to start and the others to arrive, Mike went to the bar and had a few drinks. He was on his third rye and coke, draining the last of it, when Gus walked into the middle of the room and everyone fell silent, knowing it was about to begin.
“Thank you all for coming tonight, our new special night. We have five fabulous women here for your viewing pleasure. For some of you, the lucky ones that love to act as well as watch, we have a treat for you. A fresh face, a fresh set of holes just waiting to be licked, fucked and filled. It’s time for the lottery!”
The lottery was to pick the order that the women that would be brought out. This way it was still a surprise, so that you didn’t just sign up for the first girls, leaving the latter ones lonely and unfulfilled. The first one picked was number three.