Read Online Free For All (Red Light, Book Four) by Jayne Rylon - Free Book Online
Authors: Jayne Rylon
Tags: Erótica
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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
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
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