Pretty in Pink Read Online Jayda Marx

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Jayda Marx Advertisement

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Amir told me about a gay fetish club on the far side of town that hosted ‘open nights’ once a month. He said he’d visited on a few occasions, long before he met Henley. The club was open to men who were looking to explore the lifestyle, but weren’t ready to apply for membership.

All they had to do was go online, fill out a questionnaire and waiver, pay a fee, and that entitled them to one night access to dip their toes into the water, so to speak. It was a great opportunity for anyone who was in search of a partner for playtime, sexual encounters, or relationships. Though everyone may be looking for something different, nobody would judge. He said it would be a good chance for me to meet some new people and experience the lifestyle firsthand.

It was a great idea in theory, but in practice, I was struggling. Because there I was, sitting in my third gas station parking lot, questioning my ability to make the rest of the drive. I wanted to. Oh, how I wanted to. So what’s the problem? I wasn’t a shy person. I could talk to anyone. I knew what I wanted, and I was excited to experience this new world.

Maybe that was the problem; I had high hopes and expectations, so they could come crashing down hard. What if I finally took the leap, only to fall? What if I put myself out there, but no one was interested? If I didn’t go, I could keep the fantasy alive without the fear of rejection.

But a fantasy is all it would ever be. Without taking the risk, there would be no reward. A little wasn’t going to just fall in my lap while I sat at home. I’d waited forty three years to figure out what I was missing, and I wasn’t going to miss out on a moment more. I took a deep breath and shifted into reverse. I can do this.

Chapter One

Ford

I made it this far; I can’t punk out now. I took a few deep breaths and stepped out of my truck, where I was parked in the lot in front of The Playground, the club Amir told me about. If I didn’t know what it held inside, I’d think it was any other building in the strip of businesses that surrounded it. It was unassuming, with no flashing signs, bright lights, or anything else to draw attention to it.

“First time?” a deep voice asked from behind me. I turned towards the sound to find a man who was several inches taller than my five foot eleven inch frame.

“Is it that obvious?”

“I had that nervous look once; pretty sure we all have,” he answered with a kind smile, helping to settle my anxiety. “But trust me; get settled in, and those nerves all disappear. But you gotta get in there.” It was as if he heard my unspoken struggles, and was giving me the push I needed. I had no doubt in my mind he was a Daddy…or Dom. Whichever he was, he was a good one, because when he clapped my shoulder and motioned with his head for me to follow him, I did so without question.

Just inside the entrance was an employee of the club. He nodded his head towards the man, who must have been a known regular, but held up his hand to stop me. I showed him the barcode on my phone that showed I’d filled out the necessary paperwork and paid my fee, and he gave me the nod to continue on. I once again followed the man, who was kindly waiting for me.

We entered through a windowless door and stepped into a room full of lockers. “You’ll need to leave your phone here,” the man explained, “They’re not allowed inside the club.” I’d read that information online, and it made sense; that way nobody would have to worry about unsolicited photos.

I nodded and slipped my cell phone out of my pocket before placing it into an open locker. I noticed that none of them had locks on them; the foundation of this whole place was trust, which also brought me some peace.

But that was shaken when the man stripped off the sweatshirt he was wearing, revealing a leather harness strapped across his hairy chest. I looked down and questioned my outfit choice; my favorite jeans, a flannel button down, and a pair of boots. It was my choice pretty much daily; I dressed for comfort. But now I was worried that I wouldn’t stand out. Who would pay attention to me when there were leather beefcakes hanging around?

“Everyone has different tastes,” the man told me, once again picking up my silent thoughts. He slapped my back once more before leading me out of the room and around a corner, to a second door. Behind the heavy wood, I could hear the gentle thump of music. It wasn’t overwhelming; it was low enough to not hinder conversation, but loud enough to enhance the atmosphere.

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