Lost Paradise

My life should have been perfect. I had more than most people could have ever dreamed of. I was twenty-eight and had my law firm in Atlanta, GA. My husband Asher and I often traveled to some of the most exotic locations in the world. We both came from very well-to-do families. We were the picture-perfect couple for gay America. Yet, something was missing. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. There was always a craving in my stomach for something more.

My inability to be happy and content began to drive a wedge between Asher and me. He was always trying to get me to see how fortunate we were. I knew it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling. We found ourselves spending less time together and more time apart. Even when my father passed away, we didn’t come together as husbands. No, we put on familiar smiles and lies around family, but inside, we were both miserable and sexless.

“Hunter, do you love your husband?” The therapist asked. She sat in that chair with her long, pale legs crossed. Her skirt rode high up her thighs. The black blazer she was wearing made her breasts sit up. Her cleavage was damn near ready to burst out. That was Dr. Robins for you.

“Of course I love him. What kind of question is that?” I snapped back.

She pursed her painted-on-red lips together. Her head tilted down, and she cut her green eyes at me over the top of her black glasses.

“The question isn’t meant to trick you. Hunter.” She flung her blonde hair over her shoulder and asked, “Asher, do you love your husband?”

Asher looked at me with those pretty, deep blue eyes that made me fall in love with him. I could see how much pain he was in. It killed me to know he was hurting. I loved him, but I couldn’t help myself. There was just something missing.

With such sensitivity, he said, “I’ll always love him. I want us to be happy again. I want him to touch me. I’ll do anything to have him back.”

“How does that make you feel, Hunter?” The blonde baddie asked.

“It makes me feel like a failure. I don’t see how this is helping, though. For $200 an hour, I expected more.”

She smirked, “Okay. I have a suggestion. It’s a bit unorthodox, but it has proven successful with other couples in the same position as you guys.”

“Don’t keep us in suspense,” I said.

“You need to do something different. Go out and feel what desire and lust is again.”

“Are you suggesting we have an affair?” Asher asked.

“No, nothing like that. I suggest you two go somewhere together where you can feel like you’re the center of someone else’s attention. I know a very discreet place.”

I chuckled, “You can’t be serious?”

“You want your marriage to work or not?”

Asher and I looked at one another. I was going to say no and tell Asher we could go home and try making out until the sexual attraction returned. Asher had other plans. He was desperate for the spark to return to our marriage.

“We’ll do it,” he proudly said.

“Excellent. We’ll meet back here next week for an update,” she handed Asher a business card.

I quickly took the card. It was a black card with a glossy finish. In red letters were the words: Lost Paradise. Underneath it was the address. I had this strange feeling in my stomach, but Asher made up his mind. I reluctantly agreed to go and that was my first mistake.

The days leading up to going were filled with anxiety. We had yet to learn what this place was about. There were no Google reviews or Yelp reviews on it. It was as if it were a well-kept secret.

From the outside, the place looked seedy as hell. It was an old steel plant that had been converted into a business. Standing outside the door were two big black bouncers. These guys looked like the type of people you wouldn’t want to cross.

“Ash, babe, we don’t have to do this,” I said, hoping he would change his mind.

“No, I want to. Let’s try to have a good time. Please.”

I remember Dr. Robins telling us to give them a passphrase when we reached the door. That was the only way to enter.

“What’s lost has been found, and what’s found is in me,” I said as I rolled my eyes at my husband playfully.

“Enjoy paradise, gentlemen,” the bouncer said as he opened the door for us.

When we entered, we had to walk down a long flight of stairs. Mirrors lined the hall, and the lights were purple. A mood was being set for everyone who entered. As we got closer to the main entrance, we heard music blaring.

Once inside, we were introduced to a whole new world. There was a massive stage with a trail of lights going around it and down the sides. A stripper pole was in the middle of the stage. Tables were lined up like in a Vegas showroom. Across the room was a bar and a huge dance floor.

Half-naked men of color walked around serving drinks. The little bit of clothing they wore went with the paradise theme. We found an empty table close to the stage and took a seat.

“Ash, it’s not too late to leave.”

“It’s okay. It’s not somewhere I would venture to of my own free will, but I trust Dr. Robins. Let’s give it a chance.” He was ready to try anything. That’s just how much he loved me.

The lights on the stage went out. The room instantly went quiet, and everyone focused on the stage. Smoke blew onto the stage. The sound of heels clacking was all you could hear.

“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome the one and only Siren to the stage.”

Dirty Diana started to play. I laughed to myself. Who the fuck strips to Michael Jackson, I thought. That was my second mistake. I underestimated what was about to happen.

The smoke started to clear, the lights along the stage lit up white, and he walked down to the middle of the stage. I had never been particularly attracted to black men, but there was something about this guy. He walked with this confidence and sex appeal that had every eye on him.

He was flawlessly chocolate with a toned body like a swimmer. His eyes were piercing grey, and his head was full of curly black hair. The front of his red thong showed off his defined bulge as he strolled toward the center of the stage; his boots sparkled.

Suddenly, he ran and jumped. His hands grabbed the pole, and he started to swing around it. The room went wild. He kept swinging and spread his legs wide. You could see his heavy balls. The thong covered his taint. He slid down the pole.

He crawled like a madman to the edge of the stage. He took the cigar a man was smoking, puffed on it, and it blew smoke in the man’s face. He placed the cigar behind himself, and with a quick flip, his round glutes were in the face of the audience. He quickly moved his thong to the side and slid the cigar in his ass without us ever seeing it.

He made his cheeks bounce and squeeze. It was like his ass was smoking the cigar because smoke appeared from it. He pulled the cigar from his hole and placed it back in the man’s mouth. The man went wild and started throwing money at him.

A few servers started walking around with red buckets, collecting his tips. Then he made eye contact with me. His performance enthralled me. I couldn’t look away. He narrowed his gaze and walked right over to me. He jumped onto the table where Hunter and I were.

He picked up the beer sitting there, drank it, and squeezed my jaws. My mouth opened, and he let the beer fall from his mouth into mine. He pulled our lips together and pushed his tongue into my mouth. I had no choice but to swallow the beer.

He rolled off the table and slowly walked around us. He ran his hands over my chest; then he sat in Asher’s lap. I had forgotten about Asher briefly. The dancer was face to face with Asher, and he started to grind his ass over my husband's dick. He went faster and harder. He took Asher’s hands and put them on his ass cheeks. Asher had always been the bottom in our relationship. I know in previous relationships he had been vers. Seeing him like that turned me on. The dancer was using my husband’s dick like it belonged to him.

Asher’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. The dancer started to bounce up and down on him. He rolled his tongue from the bottom of Asher’s chin up the middle of his face.

Once he felt satisfied, he left Asher. He looked at me and winked. He ran and slid back onto the stage. He stood up and snatched his thong off. His cut flaccid dark dick looked so pretty. He started to spin around and around. His dick grew erect.

As he spun around, his round cheeks bounced. His balls and cock swung freely. The song ended. He dropped to the stage on his back with one leg bent and the other leg standing straight in the air. His little dark rosebud winked at me, and the lights went out again. Everyone jumped to their feet with applause. The lights came back on, but he was long gone.

Asher tapped my shoulder, and I saw the wet stain on the front of his pants. He had made my husband cum, and I wanted to make him cum. I had to meet him. That was my third mistake. I listened to my dick, and my dick said it wanted every bit of his black ass. If he could do all that in four minutes, imagine what he could do all night.

Asher was still worked up. I hadn’t seen him like that before.

“Would you like to fuck him? I want to see you fuck him,” I said to him.

My statement took Asher aback. “Are you serious?”

I took his hand and placed it on my throbbing cock. He gave me a lustful smile.

“Okay. Let’s do it.”

As luck would have it, the dancer was leaning against the bar. He stood there staring at the crowd, watching all the others work. No one dared approach him, so I wasted no time approaching him. I had never been afraid of anything and always got my way.

Confidently, I extend my hand, “Hey, I’m Hunter.”

He looked at my hand; then he looked me up and down. He turned his eyes away from me. It was as if I was beneath him or something. That made my blood boil.

“I’m talking to you," I said. I stood in front of him, blocking his vision.

“Siren, this fool bothering you?” The bartender asked.

“It’s cool, D.” He said in this low casual tone with just enough sexuality to make my dick jump.

“Can we talk?” I asked him nicely.

“About?" He was very nonchalant.

“I don’t know how you turned me and my husband on, but you did. I mean, I’ve never even been into black guys before, you know.”

“That’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard,” he said sarcastically.

“I was just being honest. I’m not a racist or anything. I just never-I don’t know what I’m trying to say.” I was getting tongue-tied looking at him.

“It’s cool. I’m not into white guys.”

“Even if I was willing to pay, what would it cost for me and my husband to spend the night with you?”

“If you have to ask, you can’t afford it.”

“How do you know what I can or can’t afford? You’re not Chase or Bank of America.” I started to get a little frustrated.

“No, I’m the Bank of Siren, and you want to apply for a PPE Loan,” he fired off cockily.

“PPE Loan,” I asked, confused.

“Pretty Pussy Enjoyment Loan. I don’t loan it out unless I know you can pay. If you have to ask how much it is, then it is obvious you don’t have the collateral.”

One of my problems in life is I don’t like being told no. I was not going to be rejected.

“Okay, I’ll give you a grand,” I said proudly.

“I just made a grand from my first dance tonight. I’m going to hit that stage two more times tonight.”

“Okay, how about three grand?”

“I make three grand just wiping my ass. Why are you wasting my time, Hunter? It’s obvious you can’t afford the finer things in life, Hunter.”

There was something about the way he kept saying my name. It turned me on. It made my pulse race and my body sweat.

“Fuck! Just put me out of my misery, man, and name a price. I can afford it. I have a fucking trust fund and a law firm.” I demanded.

In hindsight, that was my most fatal mistake. I let my anger and pride get the best of me.

“Your husband was the one I did the little grind on, right?”

“Yeah. Asher’s his name.”

“He’s adorable. I tell you what, I’ll give you a discount. I usually charge 10 for couples, but I’ll do seven grand for you.”

“Holy shit. That’s a lot of money.”

“I’m worth it.”

“How do I know that?”

He pulled me closer and forced me to stare into his intense, hungry eyes. Motivation by Kelly Rowland played in the background. He brought my finger to his mouth and sucked on them. His tongue felt amazing around my fingers. He then took my fingers and put them in his tight hole.

His hole felt so smooth and warm inside. He worked the muscles in his anus in a way I had never felt. They were sending a signal through my body that was screaming for me to fuck him.

He spat in his hand and unzipped my pants, and started to stroke my throbbing cock. I moaned right then and there. His fingers felt like silk running along my shaft.

“Does that feel good?”

I moaned, “Fuck yes.”

He stroked my cock faster, “Tonight when you and your husband fuck me, I want you to let yourself go. I want you to use me. I want to be your slave tonight, and you be my master. When you drive your big white cock in my hungry black ass, I want you to call me a fuckin’ nigga. Can you do that for me, baby? Can you make me your nigga?”

I couldn’t take it. He made my cock explode right there. My body jerked, and my eyes rolled. The idea of saying that word to him turned me on. He pulled his hand out of my pants. He licked my cum off his fingers.

“Like I said, I’m worth every penny, white boy.”

“Damn right, you are,” I said with a smile plastered across my face. I thought I was in control, but little did I know that Siren had all the power.

TO BE CONTINUED....

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