“Hello, hello, hello. What a beautiful group of women.” Our private butler for the evening opened the door to our suite. He held the door open and checked each and every one of us out, with no shame, as we breezed past him into the decadent front room, with elegant French Provincial décor. I was the last of the group to enter and whiffs of lavender, rose, and whiskey wafted under my nose. I was slowly becoming a little more comfortable with the night’s plans.
Jodi, one of my bridesmaids and my first cousin had insisted that The Neon was the perfect spot for my bachelorette party. It was a night of indulgence, your own private indulgence, no questions asked, no secrets revealed once off the island. She had even convinced us to lie to our partners of our whereabouts. As far as any husbands, boyfriends, girlfriends, or husbands-to-be knew, we were in Atlantic City, not on Faemoor Island off the coast of Maine.
Jake, or Mr. Winslow if we preferred, was no ordinary butler. Oh, he had the proper mannerisms and was decked in dress trousers and suspenders but wore nothing else. His tanned pectoral and bicep muscles bulged, while his mid-section screamed of daily workouts. I had never seen such a perfectly sculpted six-pack in real life.
“Would the lady of the evening care to touch?” Jake raked a hand along his side, encouraging me to do more than stare. The thought of touching another man, not Bradley, after seven years together, both scared and excited me. Bradley had asked me to marry him four years ago, but I refused until I received my doctorate in Sex Therapy. My dissertation was complete and in the hands of the review board. I was expected to graduate with high honors, so I finally agreed to his proposal of marriage. Thus, my bachelorette party.
I took a step toward Jake, my hands clasped together, like I was some shy high school wallflower and not a grown-ass doctorate candidate about to marry her college sweetheart. I felt silly reaching out, but his skin proved to be cleanly smooth, sculpted and tight. I pulled away quickly and the others in my group laughed and rushed the poor bastard to each take a turn fondling his hard stomach. A lot of oohhs and ahhs filled the room. There were eight of us after all. Stacy, my best friend and maid of honor; Jodi; Cameron, another cousin; Willow, another friend; Morgan, my younger sister; Tiffany, my older sister; Bre, Tiffany’s best friend whom I had known since forever and was like another sister; and me, Jessie, the bride-to-be.
A swing door opened, and a scantly cladded goddess came through, carrying a tray with eight flutes of bubbly. Everything on her was cream lace and frills, as if she was an extension of the room’s ambiance. Stacy turned from the Greek statue Jake and gave all her attention to the waitress.
“Ladies,” she announced as she walked further into the room to bring us our champagne. Through the sheer lace of her skimpy kimono, I could see that her nipples were the same ginger color of her hair. She was exquisite and I found myself surprised by the sudden throbbing of my pussy. I had never given serious thought to bedding someone of the same sex, although I had done much study on the topic, in preparation of my budding career.
“What is your name?” Stacy asked and then added, “I’m pretty sure I’d like to indulge with you if that’s allowed.”
“Alena. My name. And I was just thinking that I hope I get to be a part of your indulgence for the night.”
“Stacy!” Morgan teased and slapped Stacy on the arm. “I had no idea that you held a secret desire to be with another woman.”
“Neither did I, until I saw Alena.”
“My beauties. The night is young, and your fantasies will be fulfilled before it’s over. First thing’s first.” Jake stepped back a bit and Alena stepped forward into the cluster of my increasingly horny friends and family members. I gathered into the mix, and we grabbed our celebratory drinks.
Jodi lifted her glass as Alena stepped away from us, to stand next to Jake. “To a fabulous night of decadence, indulgence, and lots and lots of fucking.”
We all toasted and cheered, clinking our glasses. But I felt a wave of guilt wash over me, even as I imagined pouring champagne down Alena’s breast and sucking on her perfect tits to clean the mess up. As I lowered my empty glass, my eyes settled on her lacy bikini underwear. There was no pubic hair there and in a split second I knew what I wanted to do to start my night.
“Jake? This night is about me and my bridesmaids, right? We can ask for anything?”
“Yes, anything from cuddling to watching, to gangbanging, with consent of course.” He bowed, actually bowed.
“I want that,” I said and pointed to Alena’s perfect triangle. Alena looked down and Jake looked to where I pointed.
“Hey, I want that!” Stacy declared, marking her territory.
Alena brought her eyes up to Stacy. “The night has only begun.” To me, it sounded like Alena was reassuring Stacy that her turn would come.
“No, not like that. I want to look like that. I want to shave that.” I made little circles with a finger in front of my privates.
Alena laughed. “Of course. I understand. Can I help you?”
“You can help me,” Stacy volunteered her own snatch for Alena’s attention.
“Ladies, let’s remember it is Jessie’s night first. She is the bride-to-be. We have as many hours into the night as you want.” Jake said to the group and settled his eyes on me. “But with your permission, I would greatly enjoy watching as Alena prepares you for the night.”
Whoa. Juices dampened my own boring light tan panties which had seemed so sexy just a couple of hours ago. “I suppose I could go for that.” I could not control the smile bursting across my face. Did I really just agree to voyeurism?”
The door to the suite opened wide and a drop-dead gorgeous man in tight faded jeans, a white button-down shirt, opened to expose his hairless heavily tattooed chest and dark brown nipples, work boots, and a crown of unruly blonde and gray hair tied into a long tail at his neck, entered. He was extremely well-contoured, not as bulging as Jake, but most definitely a fine specimen.
“Good evening, ladies. Welcome to Faemoor Island. I am Garrett, owner of The Neon.” His eyes were steamy green, and I could swear they flickered. The front of his jeans strained under a thickness I found myself wanting to explore. I was quite stunned by my sudden desire and absolute willingness to examine every inch of this man’s body. It was as if Bradley didn’t even exist.
Garrett approached me and held out a hand, not to shake but to hold. He closed his eyes and placed his plump lips on the back of my hand. His lips were soft but firm. I felt like I was melting under the sensual touch of his flesh upon mine.
This one is a special one.
“I’m sorry, what did you say,” I asked.
He opened his eyes, and they locked on me like a missel finding its target. Seconds passed before he released my hand and a world of erotic images swirled through my mind. It was as if he could see into my thoughts, my desires. Without thinking, my fingers lifted toward his chest to trace his erect nipples, to push his shirt from his broad shoulders. He took a step back before I could.
My pussy was getting more and more wet. My mind was traveling further and further from my ordinary life like I was being pulled into an extraordinary world. I felt intoxicated on his pheromones.
He inhaled deeply, stared at me, and again I heard his words, Yes, this one is special. But his lips didn't move. Was I reading his mind, hearing his thoughts? Or was I only wishing he perceived me as special?
Our stare down only lasted for a few seconds, but as our eyes stayed connected, it was like I could see everything I had ever learned and wanted to learn about sex was inside the pools of his flaming irises.
He visibly pulled his attention away from me like he had to snap out of our shared trance. He cleared his throat and looked at my group of bridesmaids.
“Tonight is all about indulgence. Your indulgence. Your sexual desires. We are all here to see your fantasies come to light. At your request,” he held out a hand to Jodi. She took a few steps toward him, and he lightly grazed her hand with those luscious lips. Nothing like the linger on my hand. Or maybe I was imagining, or hoping?
“Miss Jodi, as the organizer of this memorable night, we have prepared things to your likings. In each of your rooms, you will find clothing or costumes if you will, based on the questionnaires you completed. You may dress in those we picked for you, request something else or wear your own clothes. You will also find an assortment of dildos to be used at your discretion if you so choose. There will be drinks and food to your preferences. We only ask that you maintain a sense of decorum and semisobriety. We will not do your bidding if you are incapable of making a sound decision of your own. We also ask that you stay within your group and those we have chosen to make this your night of indulgence. We have several other groups onsite who will be joining you in the club. However, they have their own plans for the evening, and we ask that you do not mingle with them. We have spent years designing and perfecting our exclusive resort. We find that if you follow these few simple rules, you will have a night of your most desirable fantasies."
He turned to me. He seemed to have a difficult time making eye contact. “Per your desires, your performance will be our outstanding dancers, Men and Their Tools. They are set to perform first in order to give you ladies plenty of time to make your choices for how you want the night to proceed.”
I took a daring step toward Garrett. Disappointingly, he stepped back, and Jake inched toward me. Garrett looked down and then offered me a soft smile.
“Congratulations on your upcoming marriage, Jessie. But tonight, it is all about you and your hidden desires brought to reality. May you have experiences that not only bring you joy tonight, but memories that will delight you for years to come.”
He bowed and left the room without looking at me again.
“Fuuuck,” Morgan moaned once the door clicked shut. “He was a fine mother fucker. Makes me want to fuck a man tonight.”
Her words brought a round of laughter. Morgan had declared she was gay by the time she was fifteen and never once slept with a man. She was now twenty-seven and in an off and on relationship with her boss, Abby.
Jake cleared his throat and announced, “Garrett started The Neon, but he’s not hands-on. Not anymore. Sorry, ladies.” He directed that last part to me. “But if it’s okay with you, Jessie, I would still be honored to watch Alena give you a bath.”
A feeling of confusion washed through me but then Alena walked up to me. I smelled a faint perfume on her that reignited my arousal. She lifted one of my hands to her breast under the lacy chiffon material. The touch was so forbidden and delicious, her skin, creamy smooth, that my mouth began to water, and I refocused my attention to the offerings in front of me.
“Can you prepare me for the night?” I asked. She led me to my room and Jake followed.