The world is evil. Actually, the man who created Society X is. All the time I’ve lived in California, not once had I stepped foot into a sex club. The horror stories I’ve heard about those places were enough to keep me satisfied with dating sites or meeting someone the old-fashioned way—in a bar.

And yet, here I am, sitting on the edge of my bed trying to imagine what the woman with the glorious mouth looked like. What colors are her eyes? Her hair? And why didn’t I pull a strand when I had my fingers threaded into her mane? Because that would’ve been fucking creepy and that’s not me.

I broke the rules. I didn’t even hesitate to tell her that I was about to blow. I didn’t want her to be grossed out or unprepared so I had to tell her. I’m sure that the club has video monitors and they know that I’ve violated the contract, on the first day no less.

Her voice is all I heard last night in my dreams. I had multiple dreams about her. She was a blonde, then a brunette, and a redhead. Her eyes were green, then blue, and brown. Each time she had the fullest lips and her smile was always the same. She’d wipe her mouth using just her index finger while she smirked at me, knowing full well that I’d be hard for her within seconds of her finishing me off.

And I was. The entire drive back to my place my cock ached for attention, demanding that I find him pleasure or take care of the deed myself. Let me tell you there is no amount of jacking off that curbs the desires left behind in the play room. I wanted carnal knowledge of the woman on her knees. Hot, uninhibited sex.

I head to the gym. I don’t drive, but run, building up a sweat by the time I walk in. The music is pumping, weights clanking together and ass … nothing but voluptuous, toned asses bouncing up and down while these gorgeous women run on the treadmills. That can’t be me today, running along the side of them, not in my condition.

Instead, I head for the weights, praying that my erection subsides so that I don’t hurt myself or cause any alarm to the body builders who can crush me with their bicep. Thankfully, it’s me and another guy, and by the looks of him, he seems to be in the same boat I am. Each time he finishes a rep, he looks around. When one of the female trainers comes by, he frantically starts to pump iron.

He reminds me of Bryant in an odd sort of way. I have no idea if Bryant frequents Society X because he needs attention or longs for the company of a beautiful woman. What I don’t understand is why. Bryant seems like a nice man and he has a good job. Those are two qualities that usually earn a man a date. But he prefers to visit the club, which is likely a turn off for most women.

After a few reps on the machines, I hit the sauna. I still have time before I have to be in Sweet Briar. Thankfully, I’m the only one in here at this hour and I decide to let it all hang out. I’m man spreading and naked as the day I was born when the door opens. I cover up as quickly as possible, but it’s still not enough. My only saving grace is that it’s not overly bright in here and the steam adds a nice cloak.

Except the woman who entered the sauna has chosen to sit next to me. I tell myself to play it cool, and adjust as coyly as possible without drawing that much attention to myself. I cough and sort of slide/stand to fix my towel, and that is when I notice it. It being the X necklace women are given when they’re members of Society X. I was given a leather bracelet, but there is no way in hell I’ll wear it in public.

Yet, here is this women with her brunette hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head. Her eyes are closed so she can’t tell that I’m looking at her … chest.

“Hi,” I say in the most awkward tone of voice I can imagine. I must pique her attention because she opens her eyes and smiles. That’s right, she’s smiling at me.

“Hey,” she replies rather loudly.

Would it be creepy of me to ask her to whisper to me? Probably, right? “Uh, nice necklace.”

She picks it up and her face pales. “Shit,” she mumbles.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m a member, too.”

“Really? Are you some fucking sicko? We’re supposed to be anonymous and … what the hell?” Her gaze lands on my hard dick. “Is that a fucking erection? Are you hard for me right now? You’re fucking sick.”

Before I can even utter an apology or … hell, I don’t know, save face, she storms out of the sauna. I glance down at the head of my dick, pointing out of the towel. The only thing he’s not doing is waving a fucking flag telling everyone he’s open for business.

Banging my head against the wall, I curse myself out. What a fucking moron I am, breaking yet another rule. I’m pretty certain she isn’t the one I was with last night because the tone of her voice is way off. The mouth that was on me was sweet and shy. There’s no way in hell that psycho bitch was sucking me off.

And if she was, I think she would’ve acted a bit differently at seeing my dick since she had him eye level for a good half hour.

The door opens again and I scramble to make sure my towel is covering my junk. I don’t need any more random fuck ups, and I definitely don’t need to be thrown out of the club.

“Ah, hey man,” Bryant says as he sits down. He isn’t shy about letting his shit hang out. I’m trying not to stare, but damn, man, I work with this guy and know everything there is to know about him. He loves titty bars and free balling. Fucking wonderful.

“Um … how’s it going?”

“Great. Man, I love the sauna.”

“Yeah, me too.” Just not with another guy next to me.

“Given any thought about checking out that club I took you to the other day?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Nah, I’m sort of busy and all. You?” I can’t believe I just asked him if he’s been. I do not care!

“You really need to see about being a member.”

“I gotta tell ya, Bryant, titty bars aren’t my thing,” I say honestly.

“There’s more than tits and ass. You see, Society X is this magnificent club where you can live out your fantasies and no one has to know about it. I saw you talking with one of the hostesses.”

I nod, because there’s no denying it.

“The fee is steep, but worth it. Last night I was in the dark room banging some chick. That has to be my favorite, although when I’m really wanting to get my freak on, I go to the viewing room.”

Well, let’s add this to shit that I don’t need to know about Bryant. All I can do is nod and play along. Even if I were trying to recruit someone to join, I wouldn’t tell him about my escapades. That should remain private.

“We should get lunch there today,” Bryant says.

“By lunch you mean—”

“Lap dance or you can book a room and feast on pussy.”

“Right. I’ll be in Sweet Briar,” I tell him. “Maybe we can grab lunch next week … at a restaurant?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“I’m going to go and beat traffic. See ya.” I’m up and out of the sauna as fast as I can move. Of course, I’m back to sporting a fucking hard on because now all I can think about is returning the favor from last night. God, what I wouldn’t give to feel her fingers in my hair. To make her moan, to feel her body quiver by the way I work her core.

Fuck my life.

After a quick shower, I pull my phone out of my locker and text Jenica.

I knew I was getting a blowjob, so maybe if she knows that I want to show her the same pleasure that she’s shown me, she’ll want to meet me.

Instead of walking home, I hail a cab, and hold my phone in my hand until I have to set it down to get dressed. I don’t know if I should text Jenica again. I mean, what’s the appropriate amount of time to wait when soliciting oral sex?

Jesus Christ, even as I think that I’m asking myself, What the fuck am I doing? This isn’t me … but the thrill of it all is so exhilarating. There’s a part of me that likes I don’t know what she looks like, or her me. My body is actually craving the mystique behind it all, the secrecy. I can use my imagination and try things that I’d be too afraid to try if I could see her expression.

I pick my phone back up and text Jenica again.

Because I do. I love grabbing hold of a set of tits and burying my face deep in pussy. And I hope she slams her hand down on my head and holds me pressed against her. The shitty part is that I can’t hear what she wants. She won’t able to tell me that she’s close or that she likes what I’m doing.

That’s when it hits me. This club isn’t about sex … well it is, but not like the clubs in Los Angeles where people just go to fuck. This club is about people discovering how to communicate with their senses. It’ll be my job to bring her pleasure, which means I have to watch her body for signs, I have to feel my way to her pleasure points.

What a crafty fucker this owner is, and now that I’ve realized this I’m pissed that I didn’t think of the concept. I bring the club’s website up and look around. It’s basic with operating hours and a description of the exclusive rooms. You know it’s expensive when it says call for rates, but something tells me that I won’t mind paying for my membership.

Now begs the question. How far am I willing to go? Honestly, I want to test out all the rooms. I want to heighten my senses, but I don’t want to go at it alone.