Unfurl: A Hot Age Gap Romance
Unfurl: Chapter 15

I’m pushing through that door as quickly as I physically can, given the impediment of my raging erection. I don’t wait for Alex.

I definitely don’t wait for Callum.

I just walk.

But they’re right behind me as we head to the main Playroom, laughing and groaning. They’re as hard as me. I saw it. Then Callum’s slapping my back in a matey way, as if we’re all in this together, we’re all sharing some secret.

‘You sneaky bastard.’ His fingers dig into my shoulder. ‘No wonder you wanted to keep her all to yourself. She is hot as fuck, mate. Whew.’

He shakes out his fingers beside me like they’ve been burnt, and I am this close to taking a swing at him.

‘Fuck off, Cal,’ I say.

He laughs. ‘Oooh. He’s shirty. Jesus fuck. I’ve got to get some lips on this boner now.’

‘You should have tasted her,’ Alex chimes in behind me. ‘Those panties left nothing to the imagination. She tasted like fucking heaven. It was torture trying not to slide them aside and tongue-fuck her.’

My fists clench at my sides, because I’m equally furious with Alex for having the opportunity to get his mouth on Belle’s sweet pussy and with Callum for having her ear. I’d rather die than admit it, but he did a decent job with her. He got the balance between reassuring, lighthearted, and downright dirty just right. It’s not easy to do in those sessions.

The thing I’m most focused on right now, the thing I’m trying to compute as I mince so painfully down the hallway that I’m tempted to get my dick out here and now, is how fucking responsive Belle was.

I mean, I fantasised about her being like that.

I knew she had it in her.

After all, she approached me about Unfurl. She declined the super-gentle version of the first session, which would have been way less intense than that was for her, and she wrote those words in that blessed questionnaire.

Still, she was skittish. And she looked fucking terrified earlier, at the bar.

But, as my fuckwit mate Callum told her, she was a little beauty in that room. I fuck women more often than I can tell you inside these walls, but that, back there? That was something else. I love being with women who love sex, but most of the women at Alchemy are a sure thing, whether they’re staff or members. If they aren’t screaming the house down, you’re definitely doing something wrong.

Watching Belle take our hands and our mouths, watching her arousal build and build, those lips part and that back arch, watching her come apart in front of three guys she didn’t know, couldn’t see?

It felt like a front-row seat to a fucking miracle.

I didn’t get to taste her pussy.

I didn’t get to whisper the stuff in her ear that I know would have got her hot.

But I got to sample her gorgeous tits, which are a very generous handful, in the way I’ve been dreaming of since I met her. Seeing her beforehand in that liquid gold dress, no bra, was the best foreplay I could have asked for.

Thank fuck Gen put me on the billing tonight. Thank fuck she trusted me to keep my shit together and deliver what Belle deserved for her first Unfurl experience. Because when my mouth closed around that puckered nipple of hers, I was done for. And when I kissed her, my lips and my tongue desperate for hers, I almost drowned.

You can tell how aroused a woman is by the way she kisses, and Belle kissed like she was desperate for release, like she needed the way my tongue fucked her mouth as much as she needed Alex’s tongue on her clit.

I knew I was in trouble as soon as I met Belina Scott, but she was a no-go zone. Now, though, I can’t un-see her body arching into our touch in that chair. I can’t un-hear her sweet fucking moans into my mouth, moans so anguished, so involuntary, so delicious they practically made me come in my pants. I can’t un-feel her soft tits. Her taut nipples. The wet heat of her mouth as she matched every stroke of my tongue.

She’s still a virgin.

She’s still innocent of most of the elements that make up an average night at the club for me.

But her potential to be unleashed is sky-fucking-high.

And I want to be the one to unleash it.

Which begs the million-dollar question: did she know it was me?

Could she tell?

Did she want it to be me?

The Playroom is in full swing. Pun intended: there’s a very happy-sounding woman being fucked on one of the swings in the far corner.

Good.

It’ll get me out of my funk. Remind me that this is where I should look for my pleasures and not in that little room where we made magic happen. I cast my eyes around the huge space. It’s high-ceilinged, dim, with white pillars and soft pink uplighting that flatters all skin tones and doesn’t scream sex dungeon. There’s a room downstairs for those with more adventurous needs.

Men and women are everywhere, in various stages of undress. I pass a guy lying on a banquette, one brunette sitting on his face while a blonde goes down on him with great enthusiasm. Fuck. My dick hardens even more.

That’s what I need. Something basic. Primal. Something that will make me forget the siren call of the virgin I left in that room.

I will not think about her.

I won’t think about her rising, dazed, from her chair.

Stumbling into the changing room, peeling off that soaked underwear.

Staring at her flushed face in the mirror.

What does she see? A woman who’s finally taking ownership of her body? Her needs?

Or will the Catholic guilt, the endless years of being fed dogma, kick in and make her feel shitty?

I really hope it’s the former. I hope we turned her on so much that she may need a replay. She may need to slide her fingers into that slick, bare pussy and make herself come again as she thinks about the three of us consuming her. Feasting on her gorgeous body.

Fuck. I really need to come. My balls are about to explode. It hasn’t escaped my notice that Alex and Cal have already disappeared into the throng. Most of the female members here are pretty cool—they’re here because they love sex, not because they’re trying to bag a rich guy. Plenty of the women are at the top of their game in their respective industries. But I’m not in the mood for any small talk, for any uncertainty. I need a sure thing.

I spot one of our hosts, Isabel, and beckon her over. Our staff members are all salaried and play other roles at Alchemy. They don’t have to fuck if they don’t want to. But Isabel definitely does. She and I have played around a few times before, often with another woman, which is Izzy’s favourite thing.

That, and having people watch her.

She’s a professional, and she gets it. Best of all, with her long, honey-blonde hair, she could pass for Belle from behind.

And that is what I need right now.

She sashays over. I suspect my face and trouser situation make it pretty clear what I’m after. She’s in a white slip-dress, and that’s the only thing she’s wearing. Her perfect tits are on clear display.

‘Hi, Mr Charlton,’ she purrs. I’m not some dick who makes my staff call me Mr. We’re casual here at Alchemy. After all, most of us have fucked each other. She’s doing it because it gives us both a kick if she submits to me.

‘Isabel,’ I grit out. My hand slides around her neck, just the way it did with Belle’s, and I pull her roughly towards me.

Her breath hitches as she takes me in from a couple of inches away. My jaw is so tight I may shatter a tooth.

She cups my erection, and I nearly lose it there and then. Holy fuck.

‘What do you need?’ she asks.

‘I need you to stop talking and bend the fuck over.’

Her pupils dilate. She loves this stuff. ‘Yes, sir,’ she says breathily and turns her head, looking for an appropriate spot. I’m in too much of a rush to find a room, and I don’t give a shit who sees me fuck Isabel.

She turns and walks away from me to a nearby sofa. It’s empty and exactly right for my purposes. I watch her walk, watch the perfect globes of her arse cheeks move under that thin white fabric. In my head, she’s Belle, because I need her to be Belle. I need to claim this beautiful proxy for the even more beautiful virgin I couldn’t touch the way I wanted to. The virgin I had to walk away from.

Izzy is no Belina. She’s no virgin. But I can pretend she is, and I can do what the fuck I want to her.

I admire the sight of her stopping at the back of the sofa, folding herself over it, and, casual as you like, reaching behind to flip that white dress over her backside, leaving her perfectly exposed for me.

There she is.

This girl is good. I approach, nostrils flaring with my exhale as I take in the vision before me.

Long, long legs in high strappy sandals. Just like Belle.

Peachy arse cheeks and a perfect, bare pussy with the hint of a landing strip at the front. Just like Belle.

Izzy’s already wet, her cunt glistening despite the dimness of the lighting, and I sink to my knees behind her. My cock is desperate to drive straight in, but I need to hold off long enough to enjoy imagining that this pussy at eye-level is Belle’s. Because, fuck knows, I missed out earlier. I’ve earned this.

I slide a couple of fingers inside her. She moans loudly and pushes back against me. I can’t even imagine how tight Belle would be. I’d have to lead with a single finger. Have to take it slow. The mere thought of it has me taking out my cock and stroking it. Fuck, I’ll blow quickly.

Izzy’s fucking soaking. I pull my well-coated fingers out and reposition my middle one at the entrance to her tight little arse. Jesus. I wonder how long it would take to get Belle to grant me access here.

She wriggles against my fingertip. ‘Please, Mr Charlton,’ she whimpers loudly enough that I can hear her over the music and the sounds of pleasure around us.

‘Take this,’ I say and push all the way in as my index finger slides back inside her pussy before my tongue hits her clit.

She screams, and my cock jumps in my hand, and my balls draw up even further. I bury my nose and mouth in her perfect, wet folds and inhale her like a drug, because right now, this is all I have. I’m eating Belle, I tell myself, and she’s screaming my name. She’s writhing, she’s out of control, and she wants my dick so badly she doesn’t know her own name.

Izzy’s screams, and the sight of a beautiful blonde bent double over the sofa as I go to town on her pussy is drawing a crowd. I sense men and women gathering around us. I love that this woman is shameless and secure and brazen enough to bend over bare and take what she needs, but the idea that someday I could get Belle to this level is blowing my head.

I rub my nose over her flesh and make my tongue as taut and rough as I can, lapping at her clit so hard that she blows and convulses against my face.

As soon as her orgasm subsides, I’m up, grabbing a condom from the poser table beside me, sheathing myself and burying myself balls-deep in Izzy’s pussy. She bends over further, sticking her arse in the air as far as she can, and I lean forward, raking my hands over her beautiful hips, dragging them over soft skin, imagining that it’s Belle I’ve got impaled on my cock and screaming for more.

Belle. Belle. The fantasies of her nervous and overwhelmed and hungry as hell for the sensation of my dick bottoming out deep inside her at this angle are too much, they’re just too much to handle, and as Izzy’s muscles contract around my cock, I explode. I fucking explode, shooting every ounce of frustration and desire and shame I feel over wanting to fuck Belle into my condom as I grip Izzy’s hips hard and drive in harder.

Thank fuck. Thank fuck. I pull out and give her a slap on the arse. ‘That’s my girl,’ I tell her. She doesn’t move, and I know from experience she’ll want someone else to step right up and take my place at her exposed pussy.

Suits me. I’m not an exhibitionist, per se. But I do get off on having a woman naked and writhing around my cock, so desperate that she doesn’t care who sees her.

Whether beautiful, sweet Belle could ever reach that level of depravity is anyone’s guess.

But after tonight, I’d say the odds are shortening.

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