Girl After Dark (14 page)

“I’m glad our friend put us in touch with you,” she says with a smile. “You were everything I hoped you might be.”

“Thanks,” I reply, feeling glad I didn’t disappoint.

Then I notice the two of them exchanging a look — as if they’re both remembering some private conversation — and then after a moment, Neal nods, like he’s agreeing to let Kiki say whatever it is she wants to say.

“You know, another friend of ours throws these parties,” she begins, her mouth curling into a smile. I think you’d really enjoy yourself there. It’s not to everyone’s tastes, but you? You’d be perfect. It’s a place for likeminded people like us … like you … to get together and enjoy ourselves.”

“Like an orgy?” I ask, watching the smile grow on her face.

“You could say that,” she replies enigmatically.

And with that she walks over to her dresser, pulls open a drawer, and removes a little black ticket.

“Keep this safe,” she tells me. “These tickets are extremely rare.”

*

So what do you think, dear readers? I’d never imagined myself going this far, to a full on orgy … Shall I do it?

Oh and one more thing: if you my night sounded hot and you’re going to try and look up Kiki and Neal the art dealers for a good time yourselves, well, I’m afraid I must break it to you that I’ve changed their names and a few of the details to protect their identities and I’m not going to tell you which ones …

Leave Your Comments Below

Ivy_xxx:
Yes, yes, sure, yes, you have to! You go girl.

Juliet_Greene:
Oh my god, I’ve heard of those parties - if you don’t want that ticket, I’ll make you an offer on it! Those things are like golddust!!!

Prince_C
: You should go. Who knows? Maybe I’ll see you there myself ;)

I thought
I
was a good shopper. I mean, I was practically a professional shopper, but Jonathan? Jonathan is like some kind of wizard.

We meet at Toby’s Estate Coffee in Williamsburg at 9am — an hour before the shops even open. He says he wants to ‘talk strategy’.

Half of today’s mission, apparently, will be dedicated to finding
the perfect white t-shirt
. Apparently the hundred he already owns aren’t quite right. And the other half? Jonathan says it’s time I reintroduced a little colour into my wardrobe.

“You don’t have to make a choice between Manic Pixie Dream Girl and super-chic Health Goth, you know,” he says.

And I know he’s right.

I don’t feel like I want to wear daisy print dresses anymore, all that stuff just seemed so goody-goody, but all this monochrome can get a little boring.

So that morning, after coffee and cinnamon sugar doughnuts, we hit the boutiques, and as we shop it’s not long before the talk turns to matters other than clothes:

“There’s something different about you,” Jonathan observes in the third boutique we visit, taking a step back to look me up and down. “And it’s not just your hair,” he adds with a puzzled smile.

“I don’t know,” I offer. “Just relaxing into New York life, I guess?”

“No, that’s not it,” he replies with certainty. “There’s something you’re not telling me. Are you sure you’re not seeing anyone? You’ve got this …
glow
about you, and it’s the glow of a girl who’s getting laid on a regular basis.”

“Jonathan!” I gasp, unable to help but laugh, my eyes darting around the boutique to see if anyone else is listening in.

“What?” he says, oblivious. “It’s true isn’t it?”

“
Okay
,” I whisper back quickly, to stop him embarrassing me any farther. “Maybe I am having a little casual fun?”

“I knew it!” he proclaims loudly, his voice ringing out around the whole damn store. “I want to hear all about the cock you’re getting! I know it’s only lunchtime, but I’m gonna buy us cocktails and make you spill the beans!”

And so I quickly agree, if only to get him to shut up, and get him out of the store fast. The sales girl has heard everything he just said, and I think I might die of embarrassment.

§

We move to Annie’s, a hipster whiskey joint that Jonathan says serves great ribs, and as soon as we arrive, I immediately lead us to a booth in the very quietest part of the restaurant, because I’ve got a feeling I won’t want anyone to overhear the conversation we’re about to have …

“So,” he begins, the moment we slide into our seats. “Tell me
all about it
.”

“Right,” I say, “I
did
delete Tinder, I wasn’t lying about that. But I’ve kind of got this informal policy right now where I just say ‘yes’ to things … And it turns out that if you’re a single girl in this city, you get rather a lot of offers ...”

“Oh, I am
so
jealous,” he laughs. “I bet there are hundreds of handsome hunks just
throwing
themselves at you, right?”

“It’s not quite like that,” I smile back. “But there is this one guy …”

But then I find myself freezing up.

Why did I bring up
him
?

Am I really about to talk about
Carson
?

I’m not exactly doing a very good job of leaving him in the past, am I?

“Go on,” Jonathan urges. “
He’s
the one making you glow, isn’t he? So? Who
is he?”

“Just a guy,” I explain with a sigh. “I just wanted to have some fun, no strings attached. Know what I mean?”

“Of course I do, Honey,” he says.

“Well, we
did
have fun. A lot of fun. It was incredible, actually. But, as you well know, I’ve just come out of a long relationship, and I’m not ready for anything more. So I deleted Tinder, so that he’d have no way of contacting me. I know nothing about him other than his first name. Problem solved, right? I mean, in a city as big as New York, what are the chances of running into him again?”

“Let me guess,” Jonathan interrupts with a knowing smile. “You ran into him?”

“Exactly,” I reply, unable to stop myself from smiling at the memory. “And I was with
Dad
, too. I mean, it couldn’t have been any more awkward. He begged me to see him again. I told him it wasn’t gonna work out, but there was this
spark
… this connection. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before.”

I sigh, blowing a strand of hair from my face in frustration.

“But it’s just too
soon
, Jonathan,” I continue. “I just can’t let myself get into anything serious again, just yet. What if I get hurt? What if I mess it all up? How am I supposed to trust anyone again after what Will did? Oh it’s all such a mess. What do I do?”

“Oh, Melissa,” Jonathan replies with a sad, knowing smile. “You know everything in life can’t be perfect, right?”

“Excuse me?” I say. “You’re talking to the girl whose boyfriend leaked her sex tape, causing her to flee the country!”

“I know,” he says gently. “But you’re trying to control things that are … well, just beyond your control. Love doesn’t just knock on your door at exactly the right time, you know. Sometimes it just finds you. And when it does? Well, you just
have
to take a chance on it. If I met someone, and there were sparks? I’d give it everything I’d got! And you’d better do the same, girl.”

I take a long sip of my whiskey cocktail, trying to ignore the cold sweep of panic as I wonder: is Jonathan’s right?
Did
I make a huge mistake letting Carson go like for a second time? Because if he’s right, how am I ever going to find him again? Have I really and truly blown it?

What if destiny
isn’t
going to bring us back together again after all?

I excuse myself and head to the bathrooms.

I have to stop myself from running there.

My hands are shaking as I lock the cubicle door.

I sit down and try to take a few deep breaths to calm myself, before rummaging in my back and snatching out my mobile. It might well be the latest model of iPhone, but it is taking forever and ever as I click ‘reinstall’ on the Tinder app.

‘Come on, hurry up,’ I whisper as I watch the little circle scroll round and round.

Then, finally, I’m back in, and I’m swiping, manically, past what seems like every single guy in New York city …

I don’t even stop to look at the names.

I’m just looking for
those eyes
.

But they’re not there.

I keep scrolling and scrolling, and as I do I realise that tears are pricking at the corners of my vision.

This is futile.

I’m never going to find him again.

What the hell have you done?

And finally I give into my tears, weeping, alone, in the bathroom stall.

I struggle to find my key to the apartment in my purse. After Jonathan hauled me sobbing from the bathroom, he insisted we carry on with some retail therapy. And it turns out he was a dangerous shopping partner — encouraged by his reckless spending, I’m totally laden down with bags and I feel like I’m about to drop everything when … thank God … the door opens and Daddy lets me in. 

“Hi, Honey,” he says. “I thought I heard you … Woah. What have you been getting up to? At this rate, we’re gonna need to start looking for a bigger apartment to hold all your new things.”

“Oh, come on, Dad,” I sigh. “I arrived with the
tiniest
suitcase. And a girl’s gotta wear something, right? Anyway, Jonathan showed me some really amazing stores. I’ve got some great bargains. I just couldn’t say no.”

“That’s my girl,” he says with a smile, taking a few of the bags from my hands. “Now come in and have some coffee …”

I follow him into the kitchen and I’m taken aback. But this time it’s not the mess that’s surprised me. It’s the most enormous bouquet of flowers, sitting there on the table.

It’s a beautifully elaborate arrangement of roses, tulips, lilies and even my favourite, honeysuckle. It’s totally breathtaking. I find myself enveloped by the heady perfumed scent as I step closer to the flowers.

It must be him
, I think, my hopes swelling.

It
has
to be.

After all: the honeysuckle. He’s telling me he knows my name and he knows where to find me! Fate has come to the rescue after all. I just
knew
it would!

“Oh, yeah!” Dad says with a knowing tone to his voice. “Those flowers arrived this morning just after you left. Looks like you’ve wasted no time in getting yourself an admirer!”

I blush.

“I’ve no idea who they can be from, Daddy,” I say.

“Well, there’s a card,” he replies. “I’ll leave you to it. Coffee’s in the pot.”

And with that he walks out of the kitchen with a knowing smile on his face.

As soon as he’s left, I pick up the card and open it with shaky fingers.

A bouquet of beautiful English flowers for a beautiful English flower.

Prince C

As I read the note, my heart sinks. It’s not Carson after all. Prince_C is one of my most prolific commentators. Girl After Dark’s biggest fan to date.

I think back to a few of the things he’s written below my posts:

Your writing is exquisite.

It’s a privilege and a thrill to watch you blossom.

I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.

But how did
he
find me?

I sigh. He’s obviously some massive computer nerd who’s tracked my IP address and found out where I live ... Gross.

I was determined to be anonymous, and this random guy who reads my blog now knows where I live? Great. He’s just sent flowers, so he seems pretty harmless. But what if that changes?

I’ve seen that dreadful Mischa Barton Lifetime movie
Cyberstalker
. But that was so unrealistic!

Still, I wonder whether I should say something to Dad?

I crumple the card frustratedly in my hand.

No, I won’t mention anything just yet. He would just become over-protective. He’d never believe that
I
was in control of the situation. And I really am. Well, except for one thing:

Carson.

When it comes to him, I’m totally out of control and it’s all my fault.

I feel like a silly little girl for believing the flowers were from him. Of course fairy tales don’t come true.
My
Prince Charming is just a creep.

§

As I sit in my bedroom waiting for my dark purple nail varnish to dry, I’m forced to do nothing. My hands are flat on the dressing table and in between them there is a small black rectangle of card. It’s shaped like an old cinema ticket, and reads
Admit One
in elegant embossed silver lettering.

It seems like I can do nothing except stare at it and wonder what I’m going to do next.

This is the ticket to the party, given to me by that art dealer couple I’d met, Akiko and Nathan (or ‘Kiki’ and ‘Neal’ for readers of my blog). And this is no ordinary party. Akiko said it was for ‘likeminded people’ and there was no denying what she meant.

And now, tonight is the night. It’s the last Friday of the month.

So, do I go?

I mean, I’m dressed for it — done my makeup, my nails, and put on my sexiest little black dress. This is certainly no outfit for a night in on my own with Netflix.

But, there’s also a part of me that’s scared and nervous. A part of me that wonders if I’m getting in too deep, too far outside my comfort zone.

I take a deep breath and try to think about this rationally.

After all, they said this was ‘exclusive’. It won’t be like going to some sleazy nightclub and getting hit on by gross, sweaty guys.

And then there’s Nathan and Akiko, of course. I enjoyed my time with them and I’m certainly curious to see what else they’ve got on offer.

But I guess the reason I’ve still got reservations is … well …
Carson
.

I shake my head and sigh.

There’s no use getting hung up on him now
, I tell myself.
After all, he’s gone now, for good.

There’s nothing for it, I think. Girl After Dark is going to have to do what she came here for: no-strings-attached fun, starting tonight.

And with that final thought, I pick up my bag, pull on my coat, and head out of the door.

§

“Ticket please!” says the girl on the door.

She’s wearing a mask, but beneath it I see her emerald green eyes, sparkling with mischievous glee.

And it’s only as I’m handing her my ticket that I realise she’s wearing
nothing at all
beneath her long black cloak.

Crikey! Talk about being thrown in at the deep end ...

“First time?” she asks me curiously.

I nod, trying to keep my gaze fixed on her face, but from the corner of my eye I can see her pert left breast completely on display, her nipple pointing up at me.

“Changing rooms are just at the end of the corridor,” she explains, as casually as if she’s talking about some everyday gym or spa. “You can put your clothes in a locker, and remember to put on a mask. Have fun!”

I smile nervously and follow her instructions, heading down the corridor and pushing open the heavy wooden doors to reveal a beautifully plush changing room, with benches and lockers.

There’s another woman in here too — a tall, athletic lady with milky white skin, long dancer’s legs, and the most striking beautiful red hair and large, sumptuous breasts — stepping out of her panties.

“Hey, darling,” she says warmly in a soft Southern drawl, smiling at me over her shoulder for a moment, totally unfazed by my presence.

Then she puts her panties in a locker, puts on her mask and struts — totally naked except for a pair of white killer heels and a delicate silver belly chain — towards another set of double doors at the other end of the room.

She pushes them open and steps into what looks like a large dark red room and just before the doors swing closed behind her I can hear soft moans and sighs and I catch sight of brief tantalising flashes of bare, sweaty flesh.

Wow
, I think.
This is going to be a little more intense than I was expecting.

But I decide that I’m definitely going to do this, if only to have another exciting thing to write about on Girl After Dark.

So, with trembling fingers I begin to unbutton my blouse, feeling the cool air of the locker room flash against my bare skin beneath.

I push down my jeans too, leaving myself just in my bra and panties.

I stare down at my tattoo, hoping to summon up some of the confidence and cool that I know is there inside me somewhere.

Then, after taking another deep breath, I remove my underwear, folding them and placing them, along with the rest of my clothes, in the locker.

Finally, I take out the mask and examine it. It’s black, with pretty little jewels set into it around the eye holes.

I put it on, feeling it fit my face surprisingly snugly.

And now, with that mask on, I do feel a little of my confidence returning, as I realise that I’m totally anonymous now — just a curious girl about to set foot into a brand new world of discovery … Exactly what I came here to do.

I head to the doors and push them open, feeling myself shiver with excitement as the full scale of this place finally begins to register on me.

I’m looking out at a huge, plush room, so beautifully and elegantly designed that it’s almost breathtaking – like a stage set.

Can this be real?

Everywhere I look, there’s plush red velvet seats and dark shadowy alcoves lit by flickering candles.

And even better than the decor?

Everywhere I look, there’s sex.

I can’t quite believe everything I’m seeing. There’s couples, there’s threesomes, there’s girls together, guys together, and lots of horny single people too, watching on from the shadows. And it seems like everyone in this whole place is hot: toned and attractive as models.

I can feel the goosebumps flashing out across my skin as I step a little further into the room, taking my place timidly in the shadows as I watch two guys in their mid-twenties both paying attention to a cute chocolate-skinned girl with large, sumptuous breasts.

Both the guys are toned and muscular and as they cover her in kisses, I can’t help but feel a little jealous as I watch her melt with pleasure between them, her eyes closing, her nipples standing to attention.

She’s stroking the thick hard cock of the guy on the right, while kissing the toned, washboard stomach of the guy on the left, working her kisses down towards
his
thick, twitching cock, and I can’t help but wonder what that might be like: to have two guys both focusing on you at the same time ...

“Drink, madam?” a male voice says, interrupting my thoughts.

I turn to look into the striking blue eyes of a tall, blonde boy — completely naked except for his mask, and holding a large silver tray of champagne flutes.

“Thank you,” I say, taking a flute and smiling at him politely.

And before he turns away, I can’t help myself.

I steal a quick, hungry glance at his body — which is impossibly perfect, toned and athletic and perfectly in proportion, his cock jutting up fully hard between his muscular thighs — before he turns and struts off confidently across the busy room.

I take a gulp of the champagne, the delicious taste flooding my mouth, as my eyes once more rove around the room, unable to quite take in everything all at once.

There are doorways leading away from the large central chamber and I wonder where they lead to, what other kinky things might happening ...

I watch people milling to and fro for a while, sipping my champagne, before finally deciding to explore a little more of this place.

I take the door nearest to me, which seems to lead down a long, dimly-lit corridor.

As my eyes adjust to the gloom, I realise that there are doors leading off on either side, and on each is a little shutter that you can slide back in order to peek inside. I pause at a door on the left and unable to help myself, nervously slide back the shutter, gazing in on a plush red room, containing a large red satin-sheeted bed. And on it are six or seven people, all entangled, a seething mass of toned sweaty bodies — all exploring each other --- their sighs and moans filling the room.

Do I go in?
I wonder.

A part of me definitely wants to, but another part wants to explore a little further first …