Free Not In My Wildest Dreams (Dream Series) by Isabelle Peterson

have to stay put. That’s a lady-love-only bed. No salami.”
    “Could I?” I heard Becca ask, her fingers already working on the buttons down the front of her shirt.
    I flew to her side and stopped her right there. “Next time, love. Let’s see what else is here.” I didn’t want her jumping into something while she was so drunk. She must have been really drunk because she nodded numbly in agreement.
    “Party pooper,” Lisa pouted.
    We continued our walk passing a softly lit hallway. “What’s down there?” I asked as casually as I could manage.
    “Those are private rooms. Not everyone is an exhibitionist. How about you Jack? Would you like to put it all on display? Or are you more private than that?”
    The crack of a whip and an unbridled cry came from a door on one side of the hallway. On the other side, we could hear grunts. Manly grunts. Satisfied grunts. Some dude was getting it good. My cock was jealous. All the sounds of sex and dominance engulfed me. I started to sweat. I needed to get laid in the worst way—and soon. I hoped Becca wouldn’t pass out as soon as we got back to the apartment.
    “The three of us could get a room. Could be fun. Is your palm itchy?” she asked me knowingly.
    I wanted a room, but I didn’t. I couldn’t get involved with Becca in that way. What we had was… Well, I don’t know what it was, but I didn’t want a threesome with Lisa. I did however find myself wanting to watch Lisa and her go at it. And my hand was experiencing an odd tingling like when I’d spanked Lisa last time. My cock throbbed as it recalled her milking snapper.
    I looked over at Becca and, with one glance, I knew she was about to hurl. “Quick, Lisa, she’s gonna puke.”
    Lisa was always cool under pressure, and for once I was grateful. She dashed and picked up a bucket from God knows where for God knows what, and had it in front of Becca just as she began puking her guts up. And with that, our little adventure to the sex club was officially ended.
    I swept Becca up in my arms and we swiftly exited, none the wiser to all the couples and groups moaning, writhing, crying and orgasming all around us.
    Back in the apartment, I showered Becca, as I’d done a number of times before. Her binge drinking was, sadly, not new, but when she got emotional, she tended to lose it. The emotional aspect fortunately wasn’t often. But when it happened, it was ugly.
    “Wasn’t that crazy?” she asked, half awake as I dried her hair.
    “Wasn’t what crazy?” I asked. That guy, Danny, who broke your heart is a not a man, but is a woman who’s a bitch? Or the sex club with the leather and whips?
    “That club? Please tell me I didn’t imagine it.”
    “It was a crazy club,” I agreed.
    “What part did you like the most?”
    “Ha! Lemme see. Which did I like the most? I’ll have to think about that.”
    She smiled as I slipped a T-shirt from Barcelona over her head. She snuggled down onto her pillow. “There were so many things I liked. We’ll have to try some one day, okay?” she said through a yawn.
    “Get some sleep,” I said tucking her in.
    To say I had a tough time falling asleep that night was an understatement. Yes, I had one ear out for Becca, and all that I thought I knew about her. This new Danny/Dani revelation was only a suspicion, something I’d have to confirm tomorrow. But now, my mind was racing with the whips and shit I’d just witnessed. The sounds of the whips and crops, mixed in with the moans and gasps and layered with the sights of the pink and brown flesh.
    Some of the scenes were just like the regular sex clubs. The orgy bed. The sofa where the guy was being serviced by the three women. The bed of women. Those were incredibly hot, but the images most scratching at my mind were those where a person was bound and being whipped.
    That girl tied down on the horse, what was she getting out of it? Clearly she liked it, but why? She wasn’t able to move, or talk, but her face