Chapter 8: The Queen of BDSM propositions Liz, and we decline.

The woman on the toilet stood up and adjusted her red dress before speaking. “I’m Sapphire Smith, and your young man looks like he can go a while. Let’s get out of here so people won’t pee on the floor while watching you fuck, and I’ll show you my bedroom.”

I slid my cock out of Liz and managed to get my pants back on, although my zipper gave me some difficulty. Meanwhile, Liz was being led out into the hallway by Sapphire, with her arm around my girl’s waist. I hurried to catch up as they turned to the right, and as I entered the hallway, Sapphire was two doors down, punching a code on a keypad. Her fingers danced over the pad, and the door opened. I caught up to them as the door was closing.

A flight of stairs led up to another door that opened into a walk-in closet. It was larger than the entire floor plan of my house and overflowing with dresses hanging on clothes rods. Unique sliding shelves, mounted on tracks on the floor, held hundreds of shoes, and mounted against a wall were ten custom-built dressers, five feet high, with three-inch tall drawers. I opened one, and it contained a matching set of red silk lingerie; bra, panty, garter belt, and stockings.

Following Sapphire and Liz, I walked out of the walk-in closet into a woman’s bedroom. There was a king-size bed with four tall corner posts, multiple mirrors on the ceiling above the bed, and a large mirror on the wall at the head of the bed. On a wall opposite the bed was an enormous flat screen, at least eighty inches, and feeds from a dozen different cameras played on it. There was one large picture and eleven smaller ones. The big picture showed the room Liz had accidentally wandered into with the foursome, and they were still going strong.

I turned and, for the first time, examined our hostess. I estimated she was in her forty’s, with medium-length brown hair, B or C-cup breasts, and long legs under a tight model’s body.

“Do you see the fat man? He’s my husband, John, and he’s the face of the studio, but I’m the majority stockholder. Since we no longer have ‘relations,’ he does his thing, and I do mine.”

“And what is your thing?” I asked politely.

“Women, only women. If you would allow me to satisfy my desires with your girlfriend, you can stay the night, and I’ll watch the two of you afterward.”

I looked at Liz, and she didn’t seem thrilled that Sapphire asked me, not her. I couldn’t read her expression regarding the offer.

“Liz, do you want to answer, or should I?”

She took my hand in hers and placed her other hand on my forearm like she was afraid someone would drag her away from me.

That was enough for me, but I didn’t want to be rude when I turned her down.

“At this time, Ah’m afraid we must decline yawls kind offer. Neither of us is inclined to be a voyeur or share sex partners; we prefer the priv-a-see of our own company. However, Ah do hope Ah havn’t offended yawl by speakin’ my mind; yawl has been a perfectly charmin’ hostess.”

She giggled then started laughing, “I like you, honest, yet polite, and the only thing fake about you is that South Carolina accent. I’m a southern lady, born and raised in Charleston, and I know how it’s supposed to sound.”

“I’m Marty, this is Liz, and I was born and raised in Greenville.”

“Perhaps you’ll change your mind the next time I throw a party.”

“That’s very kind of you. Here is my business card with my address near Stanford, and after this school year is over, Liz and I have one more year till graduation.” I looked at my watch, “We’d better get back outside for the countdown; the time is 11:55.”

“Follow me; I’ll show you a shortcut.” Sapphire led us down a different flight of stairs to a veranda where a servant handed us a flute of champagne, and the three of us toasted the new year before counting down from ten. At midnight Liz and I kissed again and again, and afterward, Liz tugged on my arm to get me to lean over so she could whisper, “I saw you staring at her. Let’s go to my place, and I’ll make you forget that Sapphire woman.”

“Who?”

“Right answer.”

We thanked our hostess for a lovely evening before departing Sodom and Gomorrah, and we didn’t look back.

Entering Liz’s condo, we stripped on the walk to the bedroom, and I began making love to her in a way that was the complete opposite of our first and only sexual encounter. I threw her on the bed, raised her legs, and buried little Marty in his home away from home. I maintained a steady rhythm for half an hour, probably due to the champagne I drank and the rocket fuel formulas I created in my head while turning Liz into a screaming wild woman.