Free For All (Red Light, Book Four) (7 page)

“How’s it going?” Rick addresses the man. He’s fairly average in height and build. It’s the gentle caress he bestows on the woman’s hand that impresses me. Their wedding rings glint in the roving lights of the dance floor.

“P-pretty good.” The guy has to try twice to speak. His wife studies their joined fingers.

“I’m Rick. This is Sarah.” He gestures to me. “Tonight is her first time on the
Love Boat
.”

I repress a snort at the ridiculous name.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Nikolaas and my wife’s name is Lysanne. We’ve never been here before either. A friend of ours recommended us for a visitor’s pass.” The man offers his explanation as though anyone in the room would assume they were veterans.

“In that case, would you like to join us for a tour of the areas downstairs?” Rick’s easygoing, inviting nature makes me hornier than his adept dancing. Generous and kind, he’s making a potentially nerve-racking experience effortless both for the young couple and for us. I’ve never loved him more.

“What do you think, Lys?” Nikolaas turns to her with a soft smile, putting the ball in her court. I like them more by the moment.

“I—” She scrunches her eyes shut then shakes her head. “I know I’m the one who talked you into this, but I’m not ready, Niko. I’m so sorry.”

Rick holds up his hands, palms out. “No apologies necessary for us. Enjoy the rest of your night.”

I try not to let my disappointment show. No use in increasing the burden on Lysanne. I hear Nikolaas reassure her as we drift apart. “It’s okay. That’s why we came. To find out—”

Knowing they’re struggling with the same issues as us only increases the budding chemistry I could swear arced between us. Sometimes attraction just isn’t enough.

“There are other fish, baby.” Rick kisses my cheek as he leads me toward a staircase near the stern of the ship. “How about a little more personal tour?”

“Sure.” I clasp his hand as he escorts me down the ornate flights. The gold-painted balustrade winds lower, leading the way. As soon as we reach the bottom, I can tell the difference from upstairs. The color palette changes to from calming blues and light yellows to dark red and bold earthy tones. Sensual murals cover the majority of the space, depicting the world’s largest orgy. It’s beautiful and skillfully painted. I wish I could study the brushstrokes.

“The lower deck is divided into several distinct public areas as well as private rooms.” He cups my elbow and guides me through a door. “This one is for couples looking to explore BDSM.”

I’m impressed with the quality and range of the equipment. Several people are gathered around a woman strapped to a table. Two men occupy stocks in the far corner while someone administers a stern spanking. Nothing here catches my eye at the moment. It’d be hard to top our Kinkmas experience and I think I’d prefer something a little less showy.

“Not tonight.” I smile up at Rick. He nods and moves on.

The archway we cross marks another drastic change in décor. This room is deep blue. Swirls of steam billow out of a raised area in the center of the space. The mural morphs into a riot of fornicating mermaids and sailors that could put the Sirens to shame.

The splash of water catches me off guard. “How?”

“They had a custom hot tub built for this space. It’s big enough to swim in if you really wanted. Some parts are shallow, so you can lie mostly submerged without worrying about drowning while you’re fooling around. But the best feature is the underwater seats with strategic jets that anyone else can control.” A woman shrieks when someone jabs a button on the control panel beside their place. Her cry quickly morphs into a moan. A man plucks his partner from the bubbles, bending her over the side of the tub. Water sloshes over the edge when he thrusts inside her and fucks vigorously. “Sometimes they have contests. First one to come is fair game for the others.”

While the idea is intriguing, I glance down at my lingerie.

“We can swing back after you’ve seen the rest. That way you’re not slogging around all wet.”

“Too late,” I mumble.

He hears if his laughter is any indication.

“What’s that way?” I point toward the forest-green room peeking through on the other side of the spa, now overflowing with moans.

“Some people call this the gangbang room. But really it’s more like an open forum.” My eyes widen at the size of the enormous leopard-print mattress filling the center of the space. Couples and groups of lovers in every combination of men, women and multiples are strewn across its surface. A woman in one corner is surrounded by several men. They take turns fucking her while others delight in the stroke of her hands or the warmth of her mouth. “Only on certain days do they allow single men to visit and women who are interested can sign up for the gangbang. The rest of the time…”

He gestures to the free-for-all before us.

There’s something undeniably fascinating about the tangle of participants flowing from one group to another, freely sharing and seeking their next touch from whoever is available and willing. The magnetic pull of their abandon nearly has me shedding my underwear to join in. If only it were a little more personal. I’d had something else in mind for tonight’s experimentation. “Oh my.”

Rick chokes. “You sound like Hazel. I like this room too. It’s almost my favorite.”

My eyes are glued to the action, which inspires me to wade into the hedonistic throng.

“Want to see the last one?” He starts to move on but I’m welded to the floor. Rapture fills the room with positive energy I can’t help but admire. “Sarah?”

“Hmm. Yes.” I remember tonight is supposed to be for him. In reality, I’m curious about his favorite pleasures. “Show me.”

“The last room is a sensual massage parlor.” He rubs his chest with his free hand as though he can’t bear the pressure building there. If he’s even half as turned-on as I am, that’s no surprise.

“Really?” I blink. Silk pillows, colorful canopies and an array of crystal bottles brimming with oil make the space look as though it were stolen straight from the most sybaritic harem of a powerful sultan. Despite the packed crowds in the other rooms, this one is quiet. Mostly empty. A few couples occupy an area shielded from the rest behind sheer curtains. The shadow of their sinuous movements is alluring.

Three men and three women wearing a slew of bells around their wrists, ankles and necks—but little else—mill around the outskirts of the area. When they notice us, they approach, gesturing toward the luxurious space.

“Will you allow us to pamper you?” One of the women addresses Rick while two of the men encroach on my personal space.

“Go ahead, baby.” He nudges me toward the enticing spread of cushions.

“That’s not why we came.” I gesture with my chin toward the three women now ringing him. “I want to watch them please you. Tonight is yours.”

“Every night is ours.” He grins. “But I’m not about to turn down a fantastic rubdown.”

“Me either.” I should have realized he’d share my love of the service. Stimulating contact on every part of my body never fails to relax me and prime me for customers. I oftentimes indulge before a long shift, knowing the demands my clients will make of my body.

“We offer couples’ massages.” One of the men supplies a new option. “Tonight we’re featuring Tantric or Nuru, erotic or not.”

Rick looks to me. I shrug. “Your call.”

“Is Nuru massage the kind where you slather on the seaweed slime then slip and slide all over each other?” His straightforward description, and the glance he flings at the inflatable mattresses on a PVC sheet in one corner, has me giggling again.

“Something like that, yes.” The woman is a good sport. She isn’t offended by his generalizations.

“Let’s go with Tantric.” He takes my hand, pulling me with him onto the super-luxurious cushions.

“Lie on your stomachs with your heads near each other.” One of the men provides dulcet instructions that lull me. Moans from the green room barely reach us here. Chanting, the peal of chimes and rich Asian music half convince me I’ve travelled around the globe.

A vivid mural of Shiva overlooks our total surrender to the touch of near strangers.

Rick and I clasp hands. We turn our faces inward so we can share the moment. Eyes wide open, I watch as one of the three women surrounding my boyfriend drizzle oil along his back. The other two descend, coating their hands and every inch of his bronzed skin with the slick substance. One of them looks to me as her fingers hover over the waistband of his briefs.

Some of my fear abates when the jealousy I brace myself to ward off never rears its ugly head. I’m thankful they are able to draw a sigh of pleasure from him. I nod. The last scrap of his clothes is dragged slowly down and off his body. The women spread out, rubbing his arms, back, ass and legs with precise glides of their skilled hands. I appreciate their technique for a few moments before sure fingers unhook my bra.

Another pair of hands cups my shoulders and lifts my torso so the first man can strip my baby doll from my frame. The third man wastes no time divesting me of my panties. He rolls my stockings down my legs.

“No matter what you wear, you’re more gorgeous without anything hiding you,” Rick whispers, his face inches from mine. I wish he were close enough to kiss while I revel in the firm press of thumbs along my spine and the light strokes over my ass, which migrate toward my feet.

He shivers when one of the women attending him discovers the sensitive spot at the base of his neck. The adjustment he makes to his hips is a clear sign to us all that he’s aroused. He would remove his hand from mine to adjust the lay of his hard-on but one of the women anticipates the necessity.

She strokes around the curve of his hip. I can tell when she cups his erection by the strangled groan that escapes from his parted lips.

“I bet that feels good, Rick.” I squirm beneath the ministrations of my own attendants. “Her hand is soft and slippery.”

“You may roll over at any time.” One of the women murmurs the suggestion.

“Do you want her to touch your cock more?” I can’t remember why I thought I’d surrender power by letting another woman service him. She’s my tool and his pleasure is my goal. The bond we share isn’t diminished by including others in the circle of our passion. Instead it burns brighter, refulgent in the space we share.

“I think I’ve created a monster.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. “I’m not going to last very long if you keep teasing me like that.”

One of the men above me chuckles. “We can administer a little payback if you like.”

“Please do.” Rick smirks then lifts his head so he can observe.

Strong hands wander from their massage of my ass, along my inner thigh. A thick finger rubs at the entrance of my pussy. I moan and spread my legs just enough to give him room to maneuver.

“That’s right, baby.” Rick dusts his thumb over my knuckles.

“Turn onto your back.”

“I will if you will.” He practically dares me.

We move simultaneously. The careful motions of the attendants are easier to focus on from this perspective. They stroke us with light touches, gesture and chant with a calm surety that convinces me there’s more at work here than a simple caress of skin on skin.

It’s more difficult to see what the women are doing to Rick, but his grunts, sighs and moans are telling. We snuggle closer until we’re able to exchange lingering kisses. A little awkward at first, given our positions, heads together but facing opposite directions, we quickly adapt since it allows us to sip from each other while the six attendants set our bodies on fire.

My eyes roll when someone presses the knots from the arches of my feet then drains the tension from my ankles. Another man completes a thorough exploration of my breasts while the third rubs slickness over my mound and belly.

Rick groans and tenses. “They’re stroking my cock, Sarah. And massaging my balls. It feels so good.”

“Are you going to come for them?” I pant at the idea of his semen—released by the hands of a nameless, faceless woman—mingling with the oil on his flat belly, beading and rolling off of his greased skin.

“No. For you.” He stares straight into my eyes.

I’m sure now. I can do this. I can be what he needs, with him, in this place.

“Let’s go back to the green room,” I whisper. “I want to see you fuck someone else. I have to watch.”

There’s something about the idea that catches me. When we’re lost in the moment together, I don’t get to admire every nuance of his animalism. Seductive and powerful, I want to observe the power of his passion, knowing he’s mine and that we’re electing to explore this together.

“It’s the same for me, Sarah.” He’s practically panting now, his face flushed. “I love to see other men, and women, worship you.”

The masseuses retreat when we sit up by tacit agreement. They fade into the background, perfectly in harmony with our needs.

Over Rick’s shoulder, I catch a glimpse of the couple from upstairs, idling off to the side.

“I’m sorry,” Lysanne apologizes. “Is it okay that we observed? I hope we didn’t break any rules. We just… We wondered what it would be like.”

I face Rick and smile. He nods. “That’s perfectly fine. Did you like what you saw?”