Chapter 4

Ira

The party is alive tonight. From the moment I walk in with Stephanie, we're bombarded with groups of people who want to say hi and buy us drinks. Normally, I'm the one buying the drinks. I am definitely buying Stephanie's drink.

Let me introduce you to my date for the evening. Stephanie May is a lovely woman, and not just on the outside, although that certainly attracted me first. She's got a model's body. Not the kind you're thinking about. I'm talking ‘80s model, with perky breasts and the kind of hips you want to clutch and squeeze. The way she saunters in her shimmery dress is so enticing that it's a wonder I'm not dragging her to one of the private rooms right now.

Later. She knows what this place is, although it's her first time here. Furthermore, she knows why I brought her here.

We haven't had sex yet. This is only our second date. Don't ask me where this ‘relationship' is going. It's not one yet. I'm fooling around with other women, and she's linked with some producer in the tabloids. We're casual right now.

Casual, but I have every intention of introducing her to what this genderqueer's packing by the end of the night.

She laughs at one of Jem Mercier's jokes. Her voice is mirthful, if not a bit shrill, but right now I can overlook that. (Honeymoon phase, if you will.) We're sitting in an open area. Our tables are covered in drinks. Mostly, we're lounging on leather couches and silk pillows that allow us to kick up our legs, fondle some thighs and breasts, and pretend that nobody gives a shit. Most of the sexy action is happening in the back, but up here it's not unusual to see a woman stroking their date through their pants or for those same women to suddenly go topless. Stephanie isn't gonna do that, but…

Yup. Gwenyth's tits are out within a half hour and two drinks on her part. Jem is a lucky woman. She knows it, too, gauging how she can't take her eyes off them and whispers shit about sucking her nipples in her ear. Get her another drink, Jem, and she might go down on you right here in front of us.

If Stephanie is uncomfortable, she's not letting on. I pegged her as kinky, or at least curious about it, and tonight I hope to see how submissive she's willing to go. I do love regular sex with the right one-night stand. Yet if Stephanie and I are going to keep dating, I need someone who will offer me…more, if you will.

"How'd the meeting with the Anderssens go today?" Jem asks. "Everyone's been talking about this project of yours. And the Allens, I suppose."

I sit up, dangling my drink between my legs since we're talking business now. Stephanie remains beside me, sipping her drink and also trying to not stare at Gwenyth's breasts.

"Everything went swimmingly until Kathleen Allen botched her end of the presentation."

"Really? That doesn't sound like her."

"You say that, but you don't know her as well as I do." We're a bit after Jem's time. I can't remember how old she is, exactly, but she must be mid-30s. Even I'm not thirty yet. "Kathleen can be a bit absentminded." The woman is stressed out of her mind. I give her hell, but I'm not blind. She thinks she has a lot to prove, and I don't doubt she almost threw up when her father assigned her that presentation.

"That's too bad. Did you lose the bid?"

"No. Worse. The Anderssens want to get community approval on the project, so we have to present it to a public council two weeks from now."

"Wow. Brutal."

"We can handle it." By "we," I mean my father and me. No doubt my father is talking to Silas Allen right now about his daughter's momentous fuckup earlier today. With any luck, Silas will come out of semi-retirement to deal with the next presentation.

Gwenyth wraps her hand around her partner's knee and whispers something in her ear. Jem clears her throat. I look at Stephanie, who is politely checking her phone messages in the depths of her purse.

Sure enough, within a few minutes, tipsy Gwenyth has convinced her Domme to take her onto the empty stage and play with her. I knew the woman was an exhibitionist, and I meet Stephanie's eyes to gauge her response.

"She's pretty," she says, slowly scooting toward me. There's a magnet between us. My hand goes over hers the moment Gwenyth gets a slap on her ass and a groan in her throat. People are cheering. Why not? Every time Gwenyth is spanked, her tits jiggle, and that makes everyone happy! "This place is fun."

My date has no idea.

We stay in the gallery long enough to watch Gwenyth be stripped naked and have her nipples clamped. The look on her face is exquisite. Pain. Pleasure. Her undying love for her Domme as Jem strokes her hair before pulling it. The moans falling from Gwenyth's lips sound so heavenly that I can barely contain myself. I'm a woman. I'm human. Between seeing Gwenyth's nipples harden with every spank and hearing her excitement when her Domme bites her shoulder…

"You enjoying the show?" Stephanie's hand is on my leg. My blood is rushing to every extremity as my body realizes it's in a room full of beautiful women who want exactly the sort of thing I serve. "Because I think you are, Ira." Her hand bumps into something she may have anticipated but didn't know was there until this moment. "Oh, my." She giggles, blushing a little. "They said you liked to be a boy. Is that what I think it is?"

Be a boy? Give me a break, Steph. Just because I let you call me by the convenient pronouns of my birth doesn't mean I "play" anything. I am that role. For every woman who can't wait to get into my cunt, there's another who closes her eyes and sticks her ass in the air, ready for whatever. And you know what? I give it to her because that's why I'm there. Is it being a boy to get so riled up at a beautiful woman's body that all I want to do is fuck her hard and fast? With whatever the hell my pocketbook buys me to get me in that mood?

Yeah, didn't think so. But you don't know that about me yet, Steph. It's only the second date, and we're casual. I'll let things go for now. Only if we start to get more serious, if I feel like opening up parts of my soul to you, will I explain my simple but complex relationship with gender. So, yeah, I'm packing. And, yeah, I'm the kind of rich bitch who can afford the top-of-the-line prosthetics that make me feel perfectly masculine before I let you literally dress me down and see the more feminine side of my soul.

Despite what weirdos on social media may speculate, I'm fine with certain people calling me a woman, Steph. I'm a lesbian who does not ascribe to any of society's definitions of what my vagina says about me. But you know what? I'll be the man of your dreams tonight if that's what it takes to get me laid. You don't have to acknowledge my cunt one iota if all you want is the familiar phallic representation that money buys a non-binary butch like me.

Just give me a moment to get the fun-time rod out of the little bag I brought with me…

"Why don't you find out what it is?" I take her hand and direct it toward my pants. I don't have to explain. Stephanie May, one of the hottest actresses in the world right now, has her hand in my pants and is purring in my ear. Now I'm 100% understanding what guys say when they talk about being aroused, and it's killing me. Killing me! Like my stupid nipples want to pierce through three layers of clothing and beg to be sucked killing me. Everything beneath the base of my prosthetic is hot like fire and wetter than the sweat dripping beneath my tight clothes. Now, that's the real shit that puts me in let's go mode.

Don't listen to what Kathleen tells you. I've had twelve years since the incident to learn how to mitigate any situation with candor and grace. And I can.

So it's no problem for Stephanie to be nibbling on my ear and stroking my packer through my pants while I watch Gwenyth have her clit rubbed to erupting orgasm on the stage. We're in a sex club, for fuck's sake. Plenty of these people have seen me being pleasured before. The tabloids are always running stories about me, one of the world's most eligible bachelors (do not call me a bachelorette), getting laid by this model or that businessman's hot daughter. Sometimes they're true. Usually, they're… exaggerated.

Stephanie May unzipping my pants and moving her lips from my ear to whatever the fuck I've got going on down there, however, is not an exaggeration. She doesn't even care that I could make it better with the rod in my bag. She's going for it like she's been waiting all night.

I don't care who sees us. Stephanie is hot, relevant, and I'm not gonna lie, boosting my ego as much as she's easing the tension in my body. I hear her murmur in surprise at how easy it is to get around my extensions of myself and go straight for my cunt, always lurking in wait. Oh, I'm wet? I smell good? Having something to grasp while she pleasures me in public is a huge turn-on? That's right. I don't care what the fuck she sucks or licks as long as this foreplay eventually takes us to one of the back rooms where I can show her where all of this goes in her.

Stephanie's beautiful blond hair is falling to the side, covering my knees as her hand braces against my thigh. I glance between Gwenyth's erotic high and the mischievous look on an actress's face as she pretends this isn't her first time doing this. She is a good actress, after all.

I don't want to disturb her beautiful hair. She looks so perfect, that to touch any part of her would upset this wonderful vision… but I want to touch her. I want to rub her skin and comb my fingers through that gorgeous blond hair. I've always had a thing for blondes. Something about the shade sticks out in such a pleasant way and gives my eye a treat. There are beautiful brunettes in this world, sure, but I love seeing a head of blond moving through the dark.

I lean my elbow against the chair. My hair feels frustratingly soft between my fingers, and it's because every touch to me right now is making me inch closer to coming. I'm tempted to give Stephanie what she wants, which is my lack of control. The idea is even more tempting when she makes a cheeky comment about how pink my face is right now.

My gaze moves upward for a split second. That second is all I need to catch someone staring at me from a private balcony.

Kathleen. Allen.

I didn't know she was here. Why didn't you tell me? That makes everything interesting.

She doesn't know I'm looking back at her yet. But she's staring. What is it, Kathleen? Waiting for me to show a lack of control? It's not gonna happen. I'm in total control here. Now that I know you're playing the voyeur up there? I'm even more determined.

My hand strokes the top of Stephanie's hand. She's good at what she does, Kathleen. I'm not saying you wouldn't be good, but I have a hard time imagining you like this…

You're both blonde, though. Blonde and svelte. It wouldn't be hard to imagine it's you instead of Stephanie. You'd be impressed, really. It's too bad you didn't get to feel me inside you all those years ago. My finesse has improved since then, of course, but even at seventeen I had a good idea of what I was doing. You would've writhed against that wall like the best of them, your tits in my face and that pretty blond hair tangling behind your head.

Oh, damn. I'm close.

Is this turning you on, Kathleen? Do you like watching another woman put her mouth all over me? Is it getting you excited? Making your nipples tingle? Do you wish you were either one of us? Or, shit, do you wish you were with Stephanie? I bet she'd look just as hot between your legs as she does between mine.

Kathleen? What are you…

Ha! Here I am, higher than heaven, drinking one of the best glasses of scotch I've ever had in my life, with a hot, young movie star giggling between my thighs and fantasizing about me showing her all my tricks. And here I am, having this all happen to me, while Kathleen fucking Allen flips me off from her private balcony.

I guess she saw my gaze after all.

"That's enough." I tug on Stephanie's hair to get her to let up. Her lips kiss my stomach before she smiles at me, clearly pleased with the effect she's had on me. Yes, very admirable, but I've got other plans for us. "How about we get some privacy?"

She kisses my lips, her tongue flicking against mine. She smells like berries. I don't know what perfume this is, but I like it. "Whatever you want," she softly says. "I'm yours."

"That's what I like to hear." I squeeze her shoulder as she covertly puts me back in my pants so I can walk through the club without everyone in the scene knowing my favorite brand of packer. (It's the Avalon, by the way.) "You into what I told you about?" Stephanie knows I'm into BDSM. I told her she didn't have to do anything she didn't like, especially since she's inexperienced beyond some spanking and dirty talk. I always like to go easy the first time.

"Sure… ma'am? Sir? Oh, god, what do I call you?"

I chuckle. "Anything but ma'am. Beyond that, whatever you're comfortable with."

"How about sir? I've never called a woman sir before."

She can call me Your Royal Highness for all I care. I just want to get in that skirt! "I don't mind at all."

We walk, my arm around her waist. I hail one of the employees and ask for a key to a private room. They're almost filled up, and as we go down the back hallway I hear one woman crying out in such pleasure that Stephanie delightfully shivers in my grip.

The moment I close the door to our room behind us, I have her against the wall, my mouth on her throat and my hips begging to hump her thighs.

"I'm ready, sir," she tells me, enjoying a bit of roleplay. "Please, go for it."

I slowly undress her, running my tongue over her round breasts and inhaling the scent of her arousal as it emanates from her bare thighs. "You need to beg better than that, Precious," I tell her. I turn her around, pressing her against the wall as I rip off her dress and squeeze her firm ass. "I'm gonna fuck you right now. And then we'll play."

She's shuddering, nipples brushing against the wall. I open my bag and grab the rod for my prosthetic, inserting it before Stephanie has a chance to miss my touch. She moans, shrinking before me as she begins to fulfill the role of my favorite submissive. Her ass is hard against my front as I slip it between her folds. She's hot, wet, and so damned tight at this angle that it takes two attempts to find her depths.

I'm ready to disappear into bliss. And I do, my nose burying in that pretty blond hair. As I growl against her throat and thrust into her from behind, I think…

I think back to that woman watching me from her balcony, irate, but turned on.

Kathleen Allen, I don't know why you're in my head right now, but I'll take it. I'll think about you while I fuck this starlet until she shows me the definition of multiple orgasms. I'll think of your flustered, flushed face as my body consumes another woman, making her shriek against the wall as her heat opens up to take everything I'm offering her.

After all, I'm fantasizing that you're in this room, watching. I don't know why, but I am.