His arms are longer than mine, and he manages to pour each of us a glass of the delicious bubbly while still keeping me held close. “Are you going to tell me what they are?” It’s a gentle prod.
“I think that might be better saved for next time,” I say. Then I hold my breath. I don’t anticipate him saying no, but I’m not sure what the protocol is here in terms of repeat engagements.
Hudson smirks again, “If that’s what you want. But when is next time?”
“Do you have nights when you’re here?” I counter.
“Give me your phone number and I’ll text you my schedule.” He presses a soft, flirtatious kiss to my lips.
I take a sip of the champagne. “Smooth.”
“I thought so.”
His hand is wandering up and down my side, and I find that I’m distracted by the little shivers he’s sending across my skin. “I’ll give it to you when you have something to write it down on.”
“Fair enough.”
As good as it is, I don’t have another glass of the champagne. As it is I need to let the first wear off before I leave and drive home. Hudson and I sit, and we kiss, and we talk. I enjoy the sensation of being pressed up against someone, skin to skin, and he enjoys touching that skin, drawing patterns and playing with my breasts. I let myself fall into the trap of his lips. It’s been a long time since I’ve done any of this, but to just sit and kiss like we have all the time in the world is nice.
When I begin to feel tired and sober, I know I should go home. I pull back. Hudson is hard again, and I smile. He sees me looking, “I’m going to be hard until I see you again.”
“Really?”
“After that?” he says. “Yes.” He pulls on his pants and helps me back into my clothes. His fingers skim my skin, stealing sweet touches when he helps adjust my bra and drape my robe around my shoulders. “Let me walk you to the door, and I’ll make sure to get your phone number.”
“I thought you might have forgotten.”
“Christine,” he says, pulling me through the curtain and towards the main club. “There is nothing about you that I’m going to forget.”
As we enter the club the music gets louder and I can’t hear him anymore. I let him guide me across the dance floor to the stairs that lead to the outside. He stops, pulling me close and kissing me again. I smile against his lips. “What are you going to remember the most?”
“I think,” he says. “I’m going to remember each one of your five orgasms.”
“Four.”
Hudson smirks. “See, that’s the thing.” He pulls me over against the wall in a dark corner near the stairs. “Here at Club Deep, we have a policy that first time visitors can’t leave until they’ve had at least five orgasms.”
“Is that right?”
“It is.” His hand snakes down below my robe, pushing aside the fabric of my panties and wasting no time sinking two fingers into my pussy. “So you see, I can’t let you go until I make you come again.”
My breathing is already ragged, his fingers curling against that spot that makes my eyes roll back and my whole body shudder. “That’s very generous of you.” My last word pitches higher as he thrusts his hands in a little deeper, using his fingers to massage that spot. Any tiredness I had is entirely gone. I’m clinging to his arms for dear life because I’m not sure that my legs will be able to hold me in a few seconds. The pleasure is making them feel like jelly. Hudson’s thumb finds my clit, and suddenly my world goes white. I nearly collapse, letting him hold me up as my orgasm flows through me, and runs out over his hand and down my legs. He keeps going, his hand moving in a cyclic rhythm that hits every spot I need it too.
The pleasure is sharp and focused, searing through me like laser up my spine and through my chest and fizzling outward. His hand slows, milking the last bits of pleasure from me before he slips out, gently replacing my panties. He lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean. “Fantasy number four.”
Arousal flares through me. This wild thing that’s burning between us is both amazing and terrifying. I’m not sure I know exactly what to do with it. I know that I need to leave though, because if I don’t, then I’m never going to stop.