With her eyes closed, Sasha could pretend that she was dancing in an empty room. Shaking out her curls, swivelling her hips, moving sensuously to one of her all-time favourite rock ’n’ roll songs, ‘Dream On’. Aerosmith knew what they were doing, didn’t they? Even after all these years.
Behind her tightly closed lids, she was in her bedroom, dancing with a fantasy partner, preparing to lead him to her tiny mattress. In reality, Sasha was gyrating up on a stage, bright lights flickering over her nearly naked body. Men sat around the stage, leaning forward over their drinks, watching her hungrily.
While she danced, Sasha thought about her movie, New Car, Caviar, a line stolen from another one of her favourite rock bands, Pink Floyd. The song was ‘Money’, and she’d chosen it because her film was about money, about people who had it and people who didn’t. Unfortunately, now her life was also about money, and about how many more nights she’d do this before she had enough to start up production again.
The song ended, and she opened her eyes and lazily looked around the crowded room. The bar was always filled, but this evening she found herself surprised by the multitude of faces. These people didn’t have anywhere else to go on New Year’s? She was even more shocked when she locked eyes with her one-night stand from Dream Maker. What was he doing here? At her questioning glance, the handsome man gave her a half-smile and raised his hand up in a greeting.
* * *
For several days, the tape recorder had sat forgotten amidst the rest of the normal gossip-columnist clutter on Avalon’s desk. There was her pair of heart-shaped, rhinestone-studded sunglasses, a gag gift from an interview junket she’d been invited to weeks before. A half-buried ashtray, evidence that she really was trying to quit smoking if only because it was so hard to reach, sat on one corner of the desk, partially obscured by several fashion magazines. A slew of paper coffee cups, each imprinted with dark lipstick kisses, jockeyed for desk space with notebooks, press releases, and glossy photographs of semi-celebrities.
Avalon glanced at the mess, spied her tape recorder, and realised she still had to transcribe the interview with Joey Angel. At the thought, she groaned loudly. There went her plans for tonight. No party for her, but then, gossip never took a break, did it? Jessica, walking by, caught Avalon’s moan.
‘Everything all right?’ Jessica asked.
‘Don’t want to do my own fucking job,’ Avalon said sheepishly. ‘That’s all.’ She hadn’t expected that anyone was paying attention to her. Now, she gazed up at Jessica, and saw true concern in the intern’s eyes.
‘What part?’
‘I hate transcription. I heard enough proof of Angel’s inflated ego the first time around. Besides, it takes me fucking forever. Constantly rewinding. Backtracking to lose the ‘ums’ and ‘uhs’. I’ve been doing this for years, and I’ve never gotten any better.’ She sighed dramatically and pushed a wayward strand of gleaming blonde hair away from her tired eyes.
‘Joey Angel?’ Jessica asked.
‘Another starstruck fan,’ Avalon said, reading the girl’s look correctly. ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t be if you got to know what’s in his head.’
Jessica picked up the tiny black recorder and popped out the tape. ‘Let me.’
‘No.’ Avalon shook her head, her long mane swinging as she reached her hand out for her property. ‘You’ve got enough –’
‘I’m quick,’ Jessica said, ‘haven’t you heard?’ There was a beat of silence after that, and in the room, empty for once except for the two women, a charge of electricity seemed to flicker in the air.
Avalon reached out to stroke the side of Jessica’s face. ‘Quick when it counts, but slow when you want to be.’
‘Let me,’ Jessica said again as she closed her fist around the tape and slid it into her pocket. ‘You can pay me back later,’ she added. Without hesitating, she grabbed her bag and left the office.
* * *
Dashiell was waiting for Sasha outside the bar, and she gave him a wide grin when she saw him sitting in his truck. He watched as she made her way towards him, her body long and lean in a pair of dark denims and a shiny green satin blouse that matched the colour of her bright eyes. To his surprise, he found that he was already hard by the time she’d flung open the door and stepped inside. There was a delicious female sensation that washed over him – the smell of her body, a combination of her perfume and shampoo and lotion – and he instantly felt relaxed as he breathed in.
‘Hey, Johnny,’ she said, ‘glad to see you.’ He heard a tone of wonderment in her voice, poorly suppressed shock at the fact that they were together again when they’d both obviously chalked their first and last connection up to a one-night stand. She was too cool to comment on it, or too hardened by her years in Los Angeles, playing musical mattresses. But the way she said the words made Dashiell think that she really was glad. Not just turned on because they had some white-hot sexual connection, but that she actually was excited about the fact that he’d found her again.
‘I missed you,’ he said as he shifted gears and pulled away from the curve, and what was amazing to Dashiell was that he actually meant the words. Didn’t have an agenda. Didn’t have a real reason for even seeing her again. But once he’d caught sight of her up on the stage, he realised that he had missed her.
That was true.
* * *
Sasha was out again. Jessica found herself slightly concerned because her roommate had been acting so odd lately. Drinking more than she ever did during production. Going out every evening and acting suspiciously secretive about her whereabouts. How many night shoots could they be doing? But rather than dwell, and excited at the prospect of hearing a live tape with someone of this celebrity’s stature, she poured herself a glass of wine, set up the tape player by her laptop computer and got to work. Her main goal was to show everyone on staff that she was worthwhile. She wanted the masthead to include her name in a larger capacity than intern, and the way to do this was to be irreplaceable.
One sip of wine, then she pressed the start button on the tape. There he was. Larger than life. A man whose guitar licks had made her wet. What woman wouldn’t want those magic fingers strumming somewhere else? She closed her eyes as she listened, not even bothering to start typing. She wanted to hear what he had to say, and she wanted to learn from this experience. Paying careful attention, she noticed when Avalon nudged the musician to a different topic, stroking his ego as expertly as this star fingered the chords on his priceless guitar.
Avalon was fantastic at her job. Jessica understood this as she listened to the journalist keep the man focused. Yes, there would definitely be editing done. A few brackets here and there to explain references. But for the most part, the interview was smooth and captivating.
After listening to the entire tape, Jessica flipped the tiny cassette over, just to hear what was on the B-side. At first, she wasn’t sure what she was listening to. On the first side, there’d been background noises from the bar, but this didn’t sound like the ambient noises of revellers. Nor did it sound like a real interview conducted for the paper. In fact, after a moment of listening, her eyes wide open now, Jessica recognised the sounds exactly: this was fucking. She made out hands on clothing, soft sighs, deep breaths. Then she heard Avalon moaning, urgently, words that had no meaning. Those mumbled ‘yeses’ and ‘ohhhs’–sounds you make when you can’t even think straight any more.
‘Tell me what you want,’ the man suddenly said.
It sounded like Kelly fucking. There were noises again, kissing, the whisper of lips sliding on bare skin. Jessica backed the tape up. Was it really Kelly? She listened again. Yes, it was. Kelly saying different things than he said to her, but using that same soft voice. His voice seemed to caress when he spoke.
Her heart slammed in her chest. She felt a combination of shock and…and what? Not anger. No. Not confusion – except about how Avalon and Kelly met and why Avalon had taped their interaction. But it was clear to her what the attraction would be between them. Avalon was stunning, with her confident swagger and her come-hither gaze. Kelly would have been a fool not to accept her invitation. So how was Jessica feeling?
Intrigued.
Just as she’d listened to the interview on the A-side of the tape, she listened to the entire sexual episode once, relaxing against the leather club chair, her feet over the edge. With her eyes shut, she imagined the entire scene, saw it for what it was. A good, quick fuck. One hand starting on her throat, she stroked her fingertips gently down her body, touching herself through the silky material of her navy and white polka-dot robe. When she reached the split of her body, she stroked herself there, listening to the heated sounds of Avalon’s moans as they grew in intensity. Not louder, just sweeter. Musical.
Had Avalon meant for her to hear this?
No, she couldn’t have. She’d had no idea that Jessica would offer to transcribe the tape, would bother to flip the sides. Did she even know that Jessica and Kelly had ever been an item? There was no reason for her to have that information. But then, Jessica thought, Avalon seemed to know everything about everyone.
For an instant, she wished Sasha was home. The two could discuss this, the way they’d talked about men and life and love in the past. Sasha was so busy, consumed by her movie. She no longer had the time to play Miss Lonely Hearts.
One more solid drink, and Jessica decided what to do. She spent two hours transcribing the interview with the musician, getting every word right, every nuance in parentheticals. ‘Joey (laughing) reveals a bit more about his history…’ that sort of thing. She wanted Avalon to be impressed.
Then she flipped the tape back over and transcribed the B-side as well. She labelled one file: ‘Joey Angel’, with the date following after. The other, she simply titled: ‘What Avalon Wants’.
KELLY: You like that, don’t you, baby?
AVALON: Can’t you tell?
KELLY (sighing): You’re so wet. So fucking wet. Tell me what you want.
AVALON (with a different inflection): Can’t you tell?
KELLY: I can take a guess…
She’d give both to Avalon in two separate envelopes and see where that would take her. When the work was complete, she popped out the tape and printed the transcription for Avalon. Just as the printer finished spewing out the hard copy, her phone rang. She let the machine pick up and heard Kelly leaving a message. ‘Baby, it’s me. Call me, Jess. Just call me. We can talk. We don’t have to…’ A pause. ‘You know. We don’t have to, Jessie. Just call me to talk.’
After a moment, she went to look in her address book by the phone, then lifted the handset and dialled a number.
* * *
Sasha and Dashiell sat together on the back of his pick-up truck, the bed down, their feet dangling over the edge. They were parked in one of his favourite spots, a Lover’s Leap type view of the city spread out before them. Lights twinkled on and off below in a random, mesmerising pattern, as if the good citizens of Los Angeles were putting on a show for Dashiell and Sasha’s personal enjoyment.
‘You want to talk about it?’ he asked her finally. She’d been so quiet during the ride, and even though he didn’t know her very well, didn’t know her at all, he sensed that something was troubling her.
‘Not important,’ she said, shrugging and flipping her brilliant red curls out of her eyes with a well-practised shake of her head. ‘Nothing I can’t work out.’ Then she looked over at him. ‘How about you?’ she asked. ‘I could ask you the same question, couldn’t I?’
He smiled at being so easily read, and for a flash he actually considered telling her everything. Confessing to her who he really was. Still, why bother her with that information? This was a girl who seemed to like him without knowing about his status. Who was willing to play as fiercely as he was without any discussions first. Without any plans, any rules. Fucking outdoors. Giving in to the sensations of lust without seeming to worry about repercussions or emotional ties that neither were interested in.
So here they were, two virtual strangers ringing in the New Year together. He’d passed on the staff party, and on several other star-studded invites that had found their way to his desk. And he didn’t miss the other world at all.
* * *
Sammy’s Mango Hut was a popular place for New Year’s revellers. Strands of multi-coloured lights draped festively over the bar created a glowing, fire-fly effect in the dim atmosphere. The handsome bartender, Chester, was wearing a long-sleeved T-shirt imprinted with a tuxedo design: black sleeves, ruffly white front, red carnation in the lapel, all painted on to the shirt. This was the most dressed-up he ever got.
On stage, Third Leg prepared to blast in the New Year with their raucous, untamed sound. Most staff members from Zebra danced to the raging rockabilly beat, while a few gathered in a corner booth, drinking tropical mixtures in Day Glo colours. There was a sense of total abandonment, and it was abandonment in public, more fun than at a private party.
From the bar, Avalon watched Jessica carefully. She’d gotten the girl’s page, a quick message that simply said Jessica wanted to talk, that she would be at the staff party. And she had heard what she could have sworn was the sound of impending tears in the girl’s voice. As a gossip columnist, Avalon felt secure in judging people’s emotions from the way they spoke. Often people revealed more information in how they said something than in what they said.
But now Jessica seemed the same as normal, drinking Mai-Tais in a booth with Alex. The two were talking animatedly but from across the room Avalon couldn’t hear what was being said. Instead, she watched, learning as always from body language. Jessica had her dark hair up in a ponytail, and she’d sprinkled glitter liberally throughout, so that every time she moved, she sparkled. This evening, she was wearing a strapless dress made of iridescent blue satin, the colour complementing the dark cobalt of her eyes.
Avalon couldn’t decide whether she should interrupt them or not. Alex seemed a study of avoidance, not making direct eye contact with anyone but Jessica. That was easy to understand. On stage, Todd was now belting out a fire-tempoed ballad to Marina. Avalon would avoid that fucking scene, too, if she were Alex. Couldn’t the girl have found a new boyfriend who did not work in close proximity with her ex? That was simply asking for trouble, but then Marina had never impressed Avalon with her mental abilities.
Now, as if coming to some decision, Alex gave Jessica a kiss on the cheek – chaste, sweet, like the gentleman he truly was – and then made his way through the throng and out of the door. He didn’t spare one look in Marina’s direction, which was impressive, in Avalon’s estimation. It was difficult not to look at the dancer, whose eyes were shooting arrows of love in Todd’s direction.
More power to you, Alex, she thought. But now she wondered something else. Would Jessica follow?
Not if she could help it. Avalon made her own instant decision. Avoiding Josh, who was making his way towards her from across the room, she slapped a $50 bill on the wood counter for Chester and then grabbed hold of the neck of a bottle of good tequila from behind the bar.
Avalon wasn’t going to let this opportunity get away.
* * *
Sasha was the one to make the first move. She stood up in the truck and slowly undid the tiny buttons that ran the length of her emerald-green blouse. Each time she popped open a button, Dashiell was able to see more of her naked skin. By the time she’d undone the entire shirt and pulled it off, he was so aroused he could hardly wait for the rest of the show.
It was strange because he’d already seen her up on stage this evening, peeling off her clothes for an audience of testosterone-pumping men. But this was just for him, and there was something so present about the way she moved. She wasn’t lost in her private thoughts as she’d obviously been at the club. Vitally aware, she stared right at him, and the look in her eyes made him harder than anything else.
Beneath her blouse, she had on a jade-green satin bra trimmed with lace. Would her panties match? Somehow, he was sure that they would. And now he stared, mesmerised, as Sasha unzipped and then kicked off her black boots and slid her indigo-coloured jeans down her thighs. Yeah, he’d been right. Underneath she had on a pair of jade-coloured thong panties. They looked so sexy on Sasha’s slim form, creating a little V-shape over her pussy. When she turned slightly, he could see her nearly nude ass, and he remembered the way he’d made love to her at their first meeting. The way her skin had tasted; how he’d parted her luscious rear cheeks with his hands and kissed her in between them.
Now that she was almost naked, she stared down at him and waited. Could he beat the fuck they’d had on the stairs that led to nowhere? Dashiell didn’t even think about comparisons. He simply stood in the truck with Sasha and lifted her into his arms. She wrapped her thighs around his waist as he bent to kiss her neck, to move his mouth up against her forehead and breathe in deeply, drinking her in.
Again, it was in his head to confess. To tell her his real name and his real life situation, but then she was murmuring ‘Johnny’ like a mantra, and he stopped thinking about anything except slipping aside her shiny thong and thrusting his cock deep inside of her. Taking her. Fucking her. And erasing every other thought in the process.
* * *
‘Your fantasy,’ Avalon cooed, sitting next to Jessica in the large bed, holding her miniature tape recorder directly in front of Jessica’s mouth. The girl’s cherry-coloured gloss had been kissed forcibly from her mouth until it was almost all gone. Smeared slightly around the edges, the trace of lipstick made her look debauched.
‘Don’t you mean my resolution?’
‘I hate fucking resolutions,’ Avalon said. ‘They only work to make you feel bad about something you can’t possibly promise to. That’s not what I want to do at all – I want to make you feel good. So instead of telling me some phony resolution that you’ll undoubtedly break in less than a week, why don’t you tell me something that I can make come true?’
For a moment, Jessica was silent, contemplating how the two had gotten to this point. After hearing the tape, she had taken stock of her emotions. Then she’d paged Avalon, saying that they needed to talk. But where? At the party, of course. Didn’t all important Zebra interactions happen at some celebration?
At the Mango Hut, where it was difficult to have a conversation on normal days, much less New Year’s, Avalon had suggested that they retreat to her apartment in Brentwood. Then, once she’d read through Jessica’s transcription, the women had faced off – in Avalon’s bed.
‘Come on,’ Avalon whispered. ‘You can tell me, Jess.’
‘Which one?’ Jessica slurred. She was feeling the shots the two had done at Sammy’s, and her body felt languorously relaxed, as if she’d spent the day lazing away in a hammock on a sunny beach. Easily, she shifted in the bed, slipping down so that she was staring up at Avalon’s deep red canopy.
‘The one that’s forefront in your mind. Don’t think too hard. Just say it.’
‘Why should I tell you?’ Jessica put as much power behind the question as she could. More than anything else, she didn’t want to seem like a pushover. Not in front of Avalon, the person on staff after Alex whose respect she most hoped to win.
‘Because,’ Avalon said easily, ‘you want to.’
As her co-worker spoke the words, Jessica realised that she was right. She did want to confess a fantasy to Avalon. And she had no idea why. The reporter was good, wasn’t she? Softening her up, loosening her reserve, her resolve, not with the liquor, but with the manner in which she approached this particularly kinky X-rated interview.
‘Why on tape?’
Avalon shrugged somewhat self-consciously. Then she reached over and opened a drawer in the chest by the side of her bed. ‘My number one turn-on,’ she said, waving one hand over the hundreds of tapes within. ‘I like to listen to people’s fantasies.’
‘Blackmail?’ Jessica suggested, glancing over.
‘I don’t even write down the person’s name,’ Avalon insisted. ‘They’re anonymous. I just like to own them. To have all these different fantasies in my room. At my disposal.’ The way she said the words convinced Jessica that she was telling the truth. She had an image of Avalon wearing a Walkman and listening to the tapes while she played with herself. And that was a turn-on to Jessica.
So all right, the young reporter thought. This was clearly some sort of test. She and Avalon had been getting along well at the paper. Better than she would have expected when the two first met. And now the reporter was asking her for proof.
Give me something to hold on to, Avalon was saying, so I can trust you. Jessica understood those types of games. Shutting her eyes, she decided to play. Because, really, what did she have to lose?
‘I like being spanked,’ she said, finding the words easier to get out than she’d thought they would be. The statement sounded perfectly matter-of-fact, as if anyone could say the same thing without being embarrassed. Not true, of course. Speaking that simple sentence out loud made Jessica’s stomach tighten up as she waited for Avalon to make fun of her.
Avalon didn’t. Her response was more of a purr than a word, a sound to help Jessica continue talking.
‘And I have no problem finding people who like that, too.’
Now, Avalon nodded. Her silence, as well as the look of heat in her eyes, encouraged Jessica to continue talking.
‘But I’ve always wanted one…well, two, other things that go with the fantasy.’
‘Tell me.’
Could she? Why not? Because maybe, if she said the words out loud, she would be that much closer to having these fantasies come true.
‘I want to watch someone else get spanked.’ Jessica said the words in a rush, and she could feel her cheeks turn their usually bright pink blush as she spoke. But she didn’t care. This was a test, she reminded herself, and she was determined to pass, even if she didn’t fully understand Avalon’s method of grading. ‘And I want to be spanked while someone else watches.’ As she finished talking, she had a clear image in her mind of Kelly spanking her for Alex’s pleasure, an image she’d returned to again and again. The concept of it made her unbelievably wet, and now she wondered whether Avalon would be able to sense her arousal.
‘Easy enough to fulfil,’ Avalon told her, sounding, Jessica thought, like some kinky fairy godmother. A wave of her vibrating wand and all her naughty fantasies would come true. ‘Are you up for it?’
Jessica didn’t respond immediately, watching Avalon carefully. What exactly was the woman offering?
‘It’s a simple question,’ Avalon continued. ‘Are you in or are you out?’
Jessica reached for the bottle of alcohol on the night-stand, then looked into the drawer filled with tapes as she took a swallow. All those tapes were fantasies. Had Avalon made each one come to life?
‘In,’ Jessica said quickly, before she lost her nerve. ‘I’m in.’
‘Stay right there,’ Avalon told her. ‘Don’t move.’
While Jessica watched, her co-worker left the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. What was Avalon doing? Going to get an audience? Would she flag someone down on the street? Within minutes Avalon had reappeared with a handsome stranger who Jessica quickly realised was the hunky Blake Daniels from the soap opera Danger’s Foe. What was he doing here?
‘My roommate,’ Avalon explained with a wave towards the dark-haired man. ‘And accomplice,’ she added with a wink. ‘He’s a fan of fulfilling the fantasies of lovely young reporters.’
‘Be serious,’ Jessica said, not believing Avalon’s intentions.
‘He’s game,’ Avalon continued, ‘if you are.’
Ian took a step closer and put his hand out to Jessica. ‘Ian Sinclair,’ he said, smiling, ‘at your spanking service.’
The way he said the word ‘spank’ made Jessica instantly wet, wetter than she had gotten from simply confessing the fantasy to Avalon. She tried uselessly to remember which panties she had on. Were they pretty? Her pale pink satin ones? Or her favourite black lace ones? She hoped she’d chosen well, because from the way Ian was looking at her, she had an instant image of him putting her over his knees, sliding up her little dress, and then taking his time observing whatever undergarments she had on beneath.
But how were they going to get to that point? Taking the first step seemed impossible. Finally, Avalon took charge.
‘He knows,’ she said, indicating Ian with a head nod. ‘I told him exactly what you told me. So now it’s up to you to help us out.’
‘How?’ Jessica murmured.
‘You said you wanted to be spanked for an audience, and that you wanted to watch someone else get spanked. Which do you want to happen first?’
Jessica couldn’t answer. Naming a fantasy and having it come true were two completely different things. Real fears suddenly besieged her. She was going to have to see Avalon at work, and Avalon would know things about her. But didn’t Avalon already seem to know her secrets? And, besides, she’d have the same dirt on Avalon, wouldn’t she?
Interrupting Jessica’s thoughts, Ian leaned forward and pressed his full lips to Jessica’s ear. ‘It doesn’t really matter, does it? You’re going to come either way. You’re going to come from watching me spank Avalon, and you’re going to come again when I spank you. It will be unreal, Jessica. You won’t believe how fucking turned on you’re going to be.’
His voice was soft, soothing, and stirred Jessica’s excitement all over again. She agreed with him by nodding, and then felt panic flood through her. What exactly was she saying yes to?
‘Then let me take over,’ he whispered. ‘I promise, you’re going to have fun.’
Fun. What a simple way to state it. So innocent-sounding compared to what they were actually embarking on. A ménage à trois ripe with decadent sex, unlike anything Jessica had done in the past. What would Kelly say? Or the mysterious Mozart? Or Alex. Oh, God, Alex. He’d spoken to her at the party, kissed her, then left. What would Alex think?
* * *
Back in his apartment alone, Alex typed furiously. He had never been on such a roll before. Like a crazy person, there were voices in his head. He heard the characters talking to each other, screaming out words in a way that they never had before. Sure, he’d read about people having breakthroughs like this. Writers often claimed that a story had ‘written itself’. But he’d never experienced the pleasure of being an instrument through which someone else told a story.
Drinking cold, hours-old coffee without tasting the bitterness, Alex fuelled himself for an all-nighter. Oh, he’d lied before. He’d cheated. He’d done all of the wrong things for all of the right reasons. He’d manipulated his characters, made them do things that they never really would have. That’s why he’d been stuck for so long. They wouldn’t let him make the wrong move for him again. Wouldn’t let him give the movie a false ending.
His fingers tapped with a melodic rhythm on the keyboard. He remembered this feeling from his college days at UCLA’s screenwriting programme. He’d been the star, the young upstart who everyone had watched eagerly. Failed them all, hadn’t he? Now, something had changed. The magic was returning. Focusing on his screen, he felt like an observer as his fingers flew across the keyboard, driving hard until the end.
* * *
Ian erased Jessica’s fragmented thoughts with actions rather than words. Silently, he slid into the bed and took hold of Avalon around her slim waist. ‘I’m going to give you a quick demonstration on my willing roommate. Just so you can prepare yourself. I think anticipation is the best type of emotion. You’ll be able to savour what’s going to happen to your own bare bottom by watching the pleasurable punishment I inflict on your girlfriend.’ He hesitated, manoeuvring Avalon so that she lay properly across his sturdy lap, and then lifting her silky raspberry-coloured dress, revealing her fine hindquarters. ‘Does that sound like something you want?’ Ian asked.
Yes, thought Jessica. Yes, that’s exactly what I want.
Sitting with her knees up under her body, Jessica watched as the man spanked his feline roommate. It was as if Ian had actually witnessed her most personal daydreams from inside of her head, the images she came to when playing with herself late at night. Avalon gave a perfect show, arching her back, tossing her hair so that the long, golden strands covered her flushed face. It was obvious to Jessica that Ian was inflicting some pain as well, because Avalon’s pale skin held a glorious rosy flush to it. Jessica could make out Ian’s handprints, fingers splayed, decorating Avalon’s derrière from the dimples at the top of her ass to the fine curve at the bottom.
This was a dream come true. She’d always fantasised about watching someone receive a serious spanking, but she’d never been able to make the scenario a reality. Confessing the idea had seemed too bold. Too frightening. What if her lover turned her down? It had happened before. Even as she watched Ian punishing Avalon, she recalled the last time she’d come clean about her turn-ons with a beau. First, she’d gotten drunk. Seriously drunk. Working through several straight vodkas at his house before getting up the nerve. The man had seemed to understand something important was going to happen, but he hadn’t been prepared for what Jessica had said.
‘I want…’ she’d slurred.
‘You want what?’ The way he’d said it made it sound as if he’d thought she was going to ask him for money. His tone of voice should have let her know that he wasn’t the right person to confess to, but it was too late for her to stop. Still, she’d decided to start small. Even though she was drunk she could sense somehow that this night wasn’t going to have a happy ending.
‘I want you to tie me up.’
He hadn’t even smiled. Kink seemed to bother him. Even lightweight kink. In her head, she heard the real things that she wanted to say. And, fuck it, she’d closed her eyes, leaned forward, and said it all. Straight out. As straight as the vodka she’d downed. ‘I want you to put me over your lap and spank me. Use your wooden hairbrush. The back of it. Spank me hard. And then, right when I’m about to come, I want you to fuck me. Slide your cock inside me and let me come right on it. And keep on spanking me right through the ride.’
Opening her eyes slowly, she had seen the look of disgust on his face and she’d felt something in her chest tighten. She wouldn’t do that again, she’d thought. But later, sober, she’d realised that she would. Because this was something she truly wanted. She simply wouldn’t do it with someone like him.
Now, she could already visualise what she would feel like being over Ian’s knee, and that was the thought that made her panties impossibly wet, drenched in the centre. Watching was thrilling, but doing – it was as if Ian understood exactly what her thought process was. As soon as Jessica had reached the fever point where she was actually desperate to take Avalon’s place, Ian gently moved his roommate off his lap and motioned for Jessica to come forward.
‘Your turn, Jessica,’ Ian said.
But she couldn’t make her body move. Oh, she wanted to. She wanted to drape herself over his strong lap, to feel his hands firmly slide her skirt up to her waist, to tremble all over as he revealed her underpants. She knew how frightened she’d be in the moment before he pulled her panties down. The second before he spanked her for the first time. That flash of worry, of panic even, before the initial spank made everything OK, as it always did.
‘Come on, baby,’ Ian said, reaching out to circle her wrist with one hand. When had she last been this excited? She couldn’t remember. And it was all because of Avalon. Jessica felt her stomach do a dive, but she gave in. Allowing herself to be manipulated, she found her proper place over Ian’s lap, waiting breathlessly for the first punishing blow and fantasising about how it would sting.
When his hand finally connected, everything that had been speeded up in her world seemed to slow down. Her heart rate. The ragged breathing. The way her eyelids were fluttering. All grew calm within her. Kelly had trained her that well. She knew one thing – how to take it.
‘Harder?’ Ian asked, and Jessica heard her own voice answer, even though she wouldn’t have thought she could speak. Opening her eyes, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror across the room. She was upended over Ian’s lap, and his fingers stung each time they connected with the bare cheeks of her naked ass. It hurt, but Ian was right. She wanted it harder. She wanted to really feel the pain.
‘Tell me,’ her new lover urged. ‘Tell me and I can give you what you want.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered, ‘Oh, Jesus, yes, spank me harder.’ She felt Avalon move off the bed, the weight shifting, and come to sit on the floor in front of her, as if she were desperate to watch the expressions change on Jessica’s face. Softly, Avalon brushed Jessica’s dark hair out of her eyes, cradled her chin in one hand, made her stare into her own intense face.
‘That’s right, Jess,’ Avalon murmured. ‘You take it. You take it as hard as Ian can give it to you. Because afterwards, when you come on my tongue, when I kiss each place he spanked you, the reward will be so much sweeter. I promise.’
It was. Avalon judged exactly when Jessica was ready, and she slid behind her and began to kiss the heated marks left by Ian’s firm hand. She licked up and down, parted Jessica’s pretty thighs, tasted between them. There was no sweeter way, in Jessica’s mind, of saying goodbye to the old year and ringing in the new one.
* * *
There were flowers on the front step when Jessica got home. Reaching down for the card, she saw that it was addressed, once again, to Little Red Riding Hood, and this time it was signed, ‘Happy New Year, from the Wolf.’ Her tricky, costumed flirtation partner, still after her with the long-stemmed white roses. As she walked up the stairs to her apartment, three questions danced through her mind in rapid order:
Who was he?
What did he want from her?
And why did she feel so excited at the thought of having a secret admirer when all the rest of her admirers were right out there in public?
‘Where were you?’ Sasha wanted to know as Jessica walked into the living room with her arms full of flowers.
‘At Avalon’s,’ Jessica said, a steady flush already starting to creep along her cheekbones. ‘You know, working.’
Sasha gave her a questioning glance. ‘I know what you’re doing,’ she said.
‘At least one of us does,’ Jessica told her, trying to make a joke.
‘You’re experimenting,’ Sasha explained. ‘I mean, how many lovers were you with before Kelly?’
‘Before?’
She nodded.
Jessica acted as if she was thinking hard, but Sasha nudged her so she had to say, ‘Two.’ It was true. Maybe that’s why she was on such a quest now. ‘So you don’t think it’s odd that I keep getting myself into these situations?’ Jessica asked.
‘You’re on a search.’
Jessica had been standing by the fireplace, staring at her reflection in the mirror over the mantel, at the heat that still lit her blue eyes from within. ‘What do you mean?’
‘You split from Kelly. You’re hanging out with a woman who can only be described as the flirt of Los Angeles. You must be after something.’
‘Love,’ Jessica finally said. She hadn’t found it with Kelly. They had a connection, physical, chemical, but nothing deeper than that.
‘Love,’ Sasha repeated, and her voice let Jessica know that the answer had pleased her. ‘You’re looking for love and finding sex.’
Now Jessica shrugged. ‘Maybe if I look for sex, I’ll find love.’
‘No,’ Sasha said, starting to laugh. ‘You’ll only get arrested.’