Group Sex Bishop Takes Knight

The limo was already running for the three when they arrived at the bottom of the lift. They stepped into the sedan with Anthony holding the door for them and in no-time at all they were off into the London night and all that it promised. There was certain hypnotic something about that evening that wickedly pulled them down the streets and into that night; an otherworldly sort of thing, where normal rules and roles were expected to be cast aside, like the corporate costumes they'd been wearing only a short time before. The illogically random became the routine, the calculated gave way to the compulsively spontaneous, and repressed propriety yielded to the primal and the base.

It was therefore a surprise when the black sedan stopped on the corner of Charing Cross and Shaftesbury. Annette told Anthony that this spot would be good for where they were going and that they could "get out here." For Brad this was all very strange. A spot like this meant you were on your way to a theater or you wanted to go get a bite to eat in a few hundred meters but not to go clubbing, (at least not dressed as they were). He was puzzled when he got out from the car with the two women and he was puzzled when they began walking with Shelby leading the way and Annette walking behind her on his arm.

Shelby seemed to know exactly where they were headed and she skipped ahead like a merry little dryad; jumping about here and there on the side-walk. To Brad she appeared to be more like a teenager on far too much sugar rather than somebody who was told only a few hours before that she'd be made a direct report to a senior executive at Praetorian Group. There was a strange duality about her that was tolerated by Annette (who even went so far as to feed and foster it) and at the same time it mystified and perplexed Brad who considered the young woman to be quite a rare breed indeed!

The three turned a corner and headed up a narrower street that appeared to have seen much better days. There were several buildings that had business space FOR RENT and with signs saying as much in their plate glass windows. The few businesses that had hung-on had long since closed for the day, (their sliding metal fronts had been pulled down and locked until tomorrow); with the exception of one.

Halfway up the street was a dingy little Chinese buffet sort of affair. It had a flashing gaudy neon sign with the words ALL YOU CAN EAT flashing like airport lighting; illuminating the otherwise dreary and unremarkable setting. Shelby motioned over her shoulder for Annette and Brad to "c'mon" like a little girl at an amusement wanting for the grown-ups to catch up while she waited to get on her favorite ride. She was actually bouncing up and down with excitement!

Brad looked at Shelby, he looked at the front of the establishment as the moved closer, and lastly he looked at his expensive club wear. He then shook his head incredulously. Annette merely smirked; she knew full well what was about to happen. It was a bit of "performance-art-meets-gimmick" and she was dying to see the young man's face!

Before they entered the restaurant; two young blonde women in matching red dresses (obviously overdressed as well for Chinese buffet), beat the trio to the door inside. They closed the door behind them. When the trio reached the door and entered the restaurant Brad's nose was immediately met by the smell of fried food and the usual bits of funk and indescribable other things that permeate such a greasy spoon .

A teenage Asian girl by the cash register asked them "How many." Shelby immediately donned her dark sunglasses and pointed at the floor. Annette nodded to the girl and donned her sunglasses, she pointed to the floor as well. She slapped Brad on the ass and said to the girl,

"The big cute one's with us dearie," she said. The girl nodded and pointed to stairs across the room that descended into a lower dining area. Annette spun around told Brad to get his shades on. He felt slightly silly but did so. Out came his sunglasses which immediately went up on his head as Shelby and Annette led the way for him through the late evening diners shoveling mouthfuls of food into their faces.

As they approached the stairs, Brad noticed the floor of the restaurant was in need of a good cleaning and it was rather sticky-going as he proceeded. It was filthy; almost as if he were walking across the floor of a men's room in and adult bookstore that required a good stout mopping! His sense of disgust only increased as he reached the stairs and began to descend. A foul smell of sweet and sour-whatever and spoiled food met his nose; becoming more self-evident as he reached the bottom of the lower level.

They were now in the lower dining area with Brad wondering why the health department allowed such a place to remain in business. Shelby motioned to the kitchen and Annette took Brad by the arm. The three walked between waitresses and a crowd of diners to the entrance of the busboy station. They turned a corner where they faced an open window.

An old Chinese man; most likely the head-dishwasher for the kitchen stood leaning over two trash barrels. He peered through the busboy window at them and noted their clothes and glasses. Shelby pointed at the wall around the corner from where they'd just turned (out of the sight of the other diners). He nodded to the girl and waited patiently as Shelby said to him,

"We heard the duck is off tonight. Can you show us something -off the menu?" Her question was met by a smile and a nod from the old man, who stepped on a button on the floor. Brad heard an electric motor sound somewhere in the wall behind him.

He turned to see the bare wall open and a dark passageway illuminated by black lights before him. Annette took him by the arm and Shelby again led the way. The door closes behind them and Brad felt silly once again; standing in a dark corridor lit by black lights and wearing sunglasses. He held onto Annette's arm not out of some chivalric sense of propriety but from a desire to not fall down and bust his bum as the trio now descended another set of stairs.

They rounded a corner and stopped in an anti-chamber with two large doors; a tall skinny man sitting in front of them. Beside him was a fire-extinguisher and a cellphone. Through the crack between the two doors, the OOT! OOT! OOT! musical pulse of a rave pounded and reverberated.

The tall blue-eyed bouncer viewed them coolly before he then recognized Annette and Shelby. Hugs were exchanged and small talk was made. He then turned to Brad.

"He is with you both?" he asked; checking out Brad's face and then his clothes and wrinkling his nose.

"It's alright Dmitri," Annette said, "I dressed him myself. You don't like my taste in menswear?"

"Oh.. no Annette. NO!" the tall big-boned Cossack said peering back at her with electric baby blues that apologized profusely, "you know the deal though, yes? I have to look hard at what the men are wearing before they get in." Dmitri looked Brad up and down one more time and nodded his head telling her,

"It's ok... we have enough girls inside and he's bringing in the both of you... plus his boots and shirt are good." He turned and opened one of the double doors. Immediately there was a roar of noise as tremendously loud dance music mixed with the sound of people attempting to laugh and shout over it flooded the anti-chamber. Shelby led the way and Annette and Brad followed. The large blue-eyed Cossack stopped Brad two steps from inside the club with a powerful hand on his torso. He patted him on the face like he was a cute dog saying in heavy accented English,

"Your Mama dresses her cubs well my friend! Enjoy but don't stray too far from her... there are all sorts of dangerous felines in there that could eat you!" The towering rude Cossack laughed at his own joke and Brad stepped through the doors into an enormous whirling club that was bathed in noise, flashes of brilliant strobes, and stygian darkness. Three steps in and he caught up with Annette and Shelby who were waiting for him.

Brad glanced up on the wall directly in front of him. In gaudy paint that reflected black light he read, "Le Labyrinthe" or The Labyrinth, in French. He was in a rave club with a French name that nodded to a Greek myth below a Chinese restaurant in London. He also noted that a good many of the tragically hip and "oh so skinny" people in the establishment sported not only chic club attire but also some sort of dark sunglasses... despite the almost creepy darkness. For half a tick he considered the contradictions of it all before being seized by Annette's hand again and following Shelby as she led the way.

The club was aptly named. Not just dark and foreboding; it was almost surreal. Riddled with passages, it was like a rabbit warren that went from one subterranean bar to a dancefloor, and then on to other bars and dance floors. These were all off from the main dance floor; an immense sunken chamber of crushing sound with a sign above its entrance in stylized lettering that read, "THE WELL OF SOULS." Clearly somebody loved the dramatic. Down in the "well" on an immense floor, the tragically chic danced somewhere beneath a heavy fog of dry ice; their heads and shoulders being all that was visible in darkness that was periodically broken up with flickering strobes and psychedelic lighting effects.

"I want to dance," announced Annette to Brad and Shelby. The pretty little noggin of the girl nodded and the three moved to the dance floor; now an ocean of undulating bodies sweat and dense fog; all punctuated by strobe lights and multicolored flashes.

The three stepped down into the gyrating pandemonium of the floor. Immediately it was as if they'd stepped into a pit of writhing snakes. Bodies were jammed packed together, thrashing and whipping violently in an undulating sweaty mass; a steady techno-tribal pounding urging them on like a deafening barbaric heartbeat! Brad now found that Shelby's hand had seized his as Annette had gotten away from him on the floor someplace. They had completely lost the boss in the fog and heaving bodies.

"It's alright," Shelby shouted in his ear with a note of reassurance in her voice, "stay close to me! She does it all the time. She'll swim back!" A moment later it turned out that Shelby was spot on, for as Brad and Shelby thrashed and flailed to the steady pounding techno, out of the Fog danced Annette and straight up to them. She threw her arms first around Shelby and then around Brad; kissing him deeply before returning to her undulating movements to the slamming pounding beats. There was nowhere to move. There was no order or sanity in any direction; it was all bodies, sweat and NOISE!

In the steady rhythmic chaos of it all, they began to feel the crush and the swell; as if the mass of bodies now became liquid. Shelby pushed in closer and tighter to Brad. She began to thrash and rub upon him like a horny puppy as the two shuffled in the cheek to jowl crowd of clubbers who could only move in a left-foot-right foot-left foot sort of fashion. Her pelvis found his thigh and her hand found his hip. She hump-danced him in a sort of half-twerking and half jogging- in-place samba that other couples were doing around them.

Brad looked to his side and saw Annette dancing in the strobes and flashes of light as if in a trance. He then saw hands come out of the crowd behind her; strong male hands that were long fingered, black, and powerful! They ran up her body in the sweaty-people crush and down into her dress, groping her rudely as she jerked laughed and thrashed; shaking her head in ecstasy with the dry ice fog enveloping her from Brad's view and not caring in the least that she was being felt up.

When the fog momentarily cleared, her gaze met Brad's and she put on a bit of a show for him; bringing one of the hands from out of her dress to suck the long black fingers one by one. She shoved the other hand up underneath her shorty-short skirt for a bit of groping mischief between her legs and the hand obliged her busily! She dropped her dark sunglasses to her nose and leered back at Brad in a wicked tease; all while Shelby's thighs attempted to squeeze him in a sweaty hip gyrating grip that said, "HEY OVER HERE, pay attention to me too!"

There was a bit of a competition going on now...more head-games between Annette and Shelby. Shelby drew Brad's attention by slinking up and down him like some exotic dancer from an ancient far eastern fable. Annette, always the much more subtler of the two; drew his attention back by moving away from him on the floor and allowing the unknown set of hands do their thing; the effect being just as powerful at whipping Brad's head and eyes back in her direction.

Shelby was still very much the neophyte with such things and relied on the hard bump and grind to start the "burn" in a man. Annette used the tickle-twinge of jealousy.... she knew he was watching and she felt his twinge. His glance provided her with the sweet buzz she wanted.....she wanted to see it; see his head turn, see his distraction, make him insecure for a bit, and start the "burn" slower. She knew damned well the slow burn could often be the hotter one....she'd let this smolder all night long if she had to and then toss fuel on it at her leisure later!

The face of the unknown man appeared over her shoulder. He looked possibly Jamaican. He was tall and with short cropped hair. He had high cheekbones and smiled with a look that was genuinely friendly to all,

"This is Dexter!" Annette shouted at Brad, "he is an absolutely mad dancer, luv him to death!" She turned her head back and stroked his smiling face and jutting chin - placing a playful nibble on his cheek. The strong genial man from the islands shot his hand out to Brad as Annette shouted over the noise to him,

"...and this is Brad!"

"It's a pleasure," Dexter said. His smile was broad and it showed a great deal of teeth in a genuinely friendly way that said, Its all good here man! Everything's good!

"Likewise," said Brad taking Dexter's hand and shaking it. Annette noted the look in Brad's face. He may have had bit of jealousy behind those eyes of his, but there was no malice... no possessiveness that she read in it. She liked that; she knew Brad noticed her dancing with someone else ...and just as hot n' heavy as he was with Shelby (yet he wasn't confrontational or hostile). He was cordial and like a good boy; could share his toys. She liked that too!

There was another thing she liked and it was splitting her pussy right up the middle at the moment. In the crush of the clubbers down in the swirling milky ice fog her dress was now rucked halfway up her bum. She wasn't dancing just on the floor it seems; she was dancing on Dexter's big black cock and in fact he'd been pushed up in her for some time now!

It wasn't the first time Dex and she had pulled off this parlor trick. It was a favorite of theirs (once the fog or foam got thick and the crowd packed in like this). She'd pulled it with him (in a manner of speaking), half a dozen times on this very dance floor alone! Once the crowd pushed in "nuts to butts" like this; nobody could see anything!

It was all very VERY Annette. It was how that keen mind worked and how she kept it tickled; after all, with her high intelligence came a strong libido. Using a crowd for illicit shags was just a characteristic of that thinking; where high intelligence and strong libido came together and decided they were both bored -and then high libido asked strong intelligence what she wanted to do!

It was why when some people saw a beautiful country lane in Cornwall; she'd notice a nice stone wall in a pasture to the side in which to hide behind and fuck somebody breathless. It was why she'd see a beautiful piece of Moroccan leather furniture and immediately wonder what sexual positions atop it she could comfortably execute and how many people it could support the weight of. It was also why she enjoyed teasing men, playing games with women and cucking her husband Caesar. It was also why after five minutes of marriage to her husband, she'd lost all romantic notions for the old megalomaniac and his whining neediness; realizing in a honeymoon epiphany that theirs had gone from a marriage of convenience to a marriage of annoyance.

She didn't want to kill the goose that laid the golden eggs but she also was not going to deny herself "things;" just as she hadn't denied them to herself when she was single! The difference now was that she had more power and more resources to pursue those things... and why the fuck not? She figured she'd only get to go through life this one time; she'd better experience and enjoy as much as she could and that included all things thrilling and sexual!

Another set of hands appeared out of the crowd. These were beautiful female hands and painstakingly manicured. They flashed momentarily in the strobes at the edge of Brad's vision and then they were upon Annette's body; roaming around as if searching for an opening in her black dress. A second later a statuesque short haired blonde woman with impossibly long legs and a dangerously short gold dress joined those hands, as if she'd been spat out of the throng of heaving bodies. Dexter shouted a cheerful hello from over Annette's shoulder to the woman. Annette immediately recognized her and screamed, "ANIKA GORGEOUS! HOW ARE YOU?" above the tumultuous sound!

The two women hugged and then something was said in Anika's ear; making the two women erupt in absolutely catty laughter! They kissed hard and pushed into one another as Dexter plowed cock from behind into Annette's quim; all unbeknownst to clubbers dancing immediately next to them and colliding with them in the crush! From a distance it all merely looked like a man dancing quite close to a pair of women on a sardine-packed floor. As bit of added distraction the ladies devoured each other's lips to "show-off" for a crowd who was far too hip, too sophisticated, and too self-absorbed to notice any of it!

Brad noticed however, and realized perhaps it was sometimes best to hide things in plain sight. Annette was providing him with the perfect learning point and she'd have been proud to see how well one of her cubs was "putting things together!" His thoughts were interrupted by another set of wayward hands. They belonged to Shelby and they were groping low in the crush and foggy darkness - working his zipper down quickly while people danced to either side of them oblivious to it all!

"Lift me up," Shelby shouted to Brad as she wrapped arms around his neck. He felt a draft down low and now understood what her intentions were. He looked left and right like he'd been told to pinch sweeties from a candy shop.

"Don't worry Brad," she shouted, "you are in the most underground of underground clubs. You won't get kicked out for it," she laughed, "not out of this place!"

"But won't..." he started to protest.

"Most people simply don't know about this place," she explained over the music, "look around you luv, what do you see?" He looked about.

"Lots of impossibly beautiful people for starters!" he shouted back in her ear.

"How many lads?" Shelby asked. He looked about again.

"A few," he answered, "a few here and a few there but it's sparse!"

"More birds than men, yes?" she said to him. He looked around hard this time and agreed with her,

"Yeah, I'd say a lot fewer lads, not a bad set of odds in this place now that you mention!"
"The club's owner wants it that way," she replied, "less stupid blokes with stupid lines scaring away ladies. They also want the lads to have a certain sort of.... appeal. You don't look a certain way and then their all, .."Sorry boy but its bye- bye for you!" That goes for hair body and bum on the boys; that way it's a much prettier and more glamorous crowd here!" He nodded and noticed that folks were probably quite hung up on their looks.

"What else do you see?" she asked; wanting to know how long it would take for him to pick up. He looked around through the haze and fog trying to "glance and dance." It really was dark as shit in there away from the floor. His eyes adjusted a bit and he saw it.

In a far corner at a cocktail table he saw a very attractive woman. She wore a club outfit that was more beachwear than dress and was clearly blowing a fellow seated at a corner lounge in the dim gloom. Nobody bothered them. There was more to see if you just looked.

At the top of the stairs just off the dance-floor in the shadow of a fake Roman column two blonde women in red dresses lip-locked in a passionate snog. Brad recognized them as the red dressed-pair from when they'd first entered the awful Chinese place upstairs. He saw one of the pair had her boobs out and was giving the crowd a bit of a rude show; not that anyone seemed to notice. In fact here and there in the dark and shadows, people were groping, fucking, or whatever-elsing casually and all just back a bit. It was almost as if the age old club tradition of snogging in the corners had been replaced by sneaking a quickie discretely out of the way.

"Everyone is doing what you're tryin to get me to do anyhow," he answered as the light came on in his head. Shelby nodded saying,

"Now you get it. You're not just Annette's pretty faced boy after all!"

"How come the law isn't all over this place?"

"Did Dmitri, the big blonde Russian at the door.....," she asked, "y'know ...... touch you in any way as he stopped you?" He nodded to her.

"And just how'd he do that, luv?" she asked. He patted the spot on his torso and she nodded like she'd solved a crime.

"He checked you for a wire and looked you over one last time for any kind of video equipment," she said, "he wanted to make sure you're not a copper!"

"How would he know a ...?"

"That's because," she explained rolling her eyes, "he bloody-well IS ONE you silly git! So are all the other bouncers; coppers and ex-coppers! He moonlights here. He joined the force here a few years back after he immigrated. He was a policeman for a while in Russia and then came here to start over. He loves being a policeman here in Britain where the bribes are better n' besides - the owner here pays him a lovely sum above his salary to keep his mates away!"

"How in the hell do you kn..." he started to ask.

"Well, people talk after sex and I got curious so..." she interrupted.

"Ivan at the door?"

"Yes and his name is Dmitri and he's hung like a ruddy polar bear so don't judge! Now bloody-hell pick me up!"

She had his cock out now down in the crush and fog out of sight. With all that "bitch in heat' humping that she'd done on his leg, he'd developed quite a prominent problem in his pants and it wasn't as if they would have to wait for anything. Couples dancing to either side of them gave them a wink as they knew what was up and pushed in even closer to provide the two a little "crush-cover." Nothing like a bit of help from strangers!

He lifted her up and hoisted her high; only to settle her down on his loins. She wrapped both legs around his waist and his hands cupped underneath her bum for support. Her thighs now held onto him with the vice-like strength of an Olympic gymnast. In a quick fluid movement her deft fingers pushed aside her thong and the mushroom head of his cock found the notch to her pretty pink cunt-hole. He felt the juicy hole yield and gravity simply did the rest.

Shelby gasped hard as she sank upon him. The veiny shaft rushed up inside her and for an instant she went wide eyed; thinking his cock had stopped someplace in her chest cavity! Once more, a happy woman felt the fleshy spear of "Brad the Impaler" deep inside her; giving her insides a friendly fleshy stretch! They began a sneaky standing fuck right there in the darkness of the Well of Souls; lost in a swirling tide of pushing dancers, dry-ice smog, and pounding techno sound!

Brad looked over his shoulder for a moment and saw Annette. Her face was all blissful agony that could easily have been mistaken for some sort of tribal dance euphoria. Hugging her close and with arms around her neck was the tall blonde Anika; speaking words of encouragement in her ear between kisses and laughs.

Was it really two girls "lezzing it up on the floor" for the attention and titillation of others? Not quite. Behind her still was Dexter; pummeling away at her as they'd been doing for several minutes now! Anika was making lovely cover for them. Annette was deeply grateful to her girlfriend; almost as deep and grateful as she was for that rude black cock of Dexter's that plowed her cunt in synch with the deafening music! The driving beat and the conjoined friction finally had the desired effect for the two clubbers.

Dex pulled her close and Annette felt him send a hot rush of seed deep inside her; triggering a sympathetic quake up inside her pussy! She clamped her mouth onto Anika's neck; latching her teeth on the pale white flesh and screaming with joy into it! The rampant black cock shuddered spat and spewed far up inside her as she now raked her teeth up and down Anika's neck and shoulders; all the while with the smiling lovely blonde holding her up and talking her through it.

Both Annette and her handsome island fellow were now covered in sweat but they kept dancing in the crush as if nothing had occured. They finally uttered something cordial but unintelligible in the club's tremendous noise. Dexter danced away, happily straightening his clothing and flashing that gallant smile as Annette and Anika hugged, danced and chatted like a pair of old school chums. There was more than just chat happening; the two were a team and Anika was playing the "look-out."

A second later another opportunity presented itself for them. Anika shot her arm out over Annette as a man danced behind her. Her grasp landed on his shoulder and she spun him their way. He was a handsome young lad who wasn't more than maybe twenty - just a baby still really. No problem - he'd do!

The young man turned and looked at Anika who peered back over Annette's shoulder and batted her eyes. She lifted the hem of her friend's black dress; showing him Annette's perfect bare ass and said something to him quickly and illicitly in the deafening club noise. With a look left and right, the lad turned and shimmied up to Annette to commence "dancing" as Anika's hands reached down to get the latest boy-toy's zipper down. Brad observed all this and thought,

"Plain sight, .... plain sight. Best place to hide it!"

Brad followed their example now as he plowed and fucked the lovely bucking little nymph Shelby; who flipped her hair to and fro to the rhythm and as the crowd pushed against them like a great tide. Out of the corner of his eye he caught Annette as she remained sandwiched between Anika and the young fellow who blew his load of lad-batter inside her after about three minutes. The amateur!

He whispered something in Annette's ear and she turned her head back and kissed him. He danced off as though part of some bizarre "catch and release" program that the club was sponsoring. Anika resumed her post like some patient lady-angler, waiting to hook another big-un' as it swam by!

Before long she pulled in a tall red headed fellow in his mid-twenties with a soul-patch below his chin. Again she lifted Annette's dress and pointed at her friend's bare ass, saying something lewd and inviting as Annette made over the shoulder eyes at him and licked her lips. The man nodded and did a bit of a take left and right before sandwiching the already well-fucked brunette between him and the tall Scandinavian goddess. If it hadn't been in a club it could have qualified as performance art.

After what felt like several minutes the "soul-patch man" spent himself up inside Annette as she shrieked like a sweaty banshee; this process was repeated again at least with at least three more men. Brad watched and saw all as he danced with Shelby upon his penile pogo-stick and couples pressed in to either side collaboratively (and appreciatively)to cover their dance floor humping.

He'd cum in Shelby once already and then he pulled another of his little dating tricks it seems; just staying up inside her and bouncing her up and down on "it." She didn't notice him blasting his nuts in her. She continued to juice and thrash her head about.

Even if the couples around them were not helping cover their activities, it was unlikely that anyone in the crowd were likely to notice any of Shelby's drippings and juicings. Everyone was covered in sweat and no one could see the wet marks of sex on anyone's clothing. When the foam machine was turned on this became a certainty! What's more, Brad had soon bounced himself into a new state of hard veiny rigidity; using Shelby as a sweaty heaving penis pump. She was never really the wiser; she just thrashed her head to the music, juiced, and came as she saw fit! This went on for several more minutes.

At last Brad saw Annette way out in the middle of the floor fan herself and blow out her chest like she'd been out for a decent run. She'd finally tired of her own public poking pole-dance. As the last man zipped himself up and danced off, she made a suggestion to Anika that she wanted to get off the floor and find the cubs.

Brad watched as Anika said something to Annette and the boss nodded back with that glamorous smile of hers. She was always the center of attention to be sure, and she deserved the moniker! He noted she possessed a weird sort of aura about her that made people stop and look; be it across a crowded dance floor or in a corporate boardroom (it didn't matter -you just had to stop and look).

"She wants to hit the bar," Shelby said fanning herself like she too was ready to melt. The irony of course was that Brad had done all of the work! It was very fortunate for him she was a true pixie of a spinner; weighing a little bit more than a dormouse!

He let her slide down off from him and she turned around; shouting and waiving at somebody in the crowd at the top of the stairs (who wasn't there really). It was a clever ruse by a clever girl to make any would-be voyeurs watching the spectacle turn and look to the top of the stairs; otherwise they'd have seen Brad shove his wet junk back in his trousers. Shelby's naughty little trick worked - having been not her first time doing this sort of business apparently!

Annette emerged from the packed throng of bodies andjoined Brad and Shelby at the top of the stairs. On her arm she had the towering blond with the short hair and the even shorter gold dress in tow. The two were laughing and carrying on like old friends; which was appropriate because they most definitely were!

"SHELBY! " Annette happily shouted as she pushed her friend up to meet the young girl, "you remember Anika of course!" The statuesque blonde scooped up the little nugget of a nymph in her arms for a happy hug and then "Hollywood kissed" her on both cheeks before the two exchanged small talk and giggles. Her eyes then fell on Brad and they went up and down.

"Shelby," she hollered over the music to the girl, "you've been sneaky! Where in the HELL do you get off hiding such a fine specimen as this dear?" Annette cut in with the introduction.

"Anika," she said to her blonde friend, "this is Brad Knight. He works with us. Shelby is "watching out for him tonight for me." Annette and Anika exchanged a smirk and a nod. The blue-eyed Danish-German Viking princess turned to him and gave him another of her cheek kisses. Not so much as a "pleased to meet you," came from her mouth. She was busy looking and appraising.

"Well," she said to Annette as her cold blue eyes traveled up and down, "if I'd known the men of Praetorian Group looked like this, I'd have held onto my letter of resignation and stayed on with them... and YOU Annette! " There was a laugh between the two women; not exactly catty but there was posturing going on.

"You have a tongue honey?" she said looking directly at him with icy blue moons for eyes.

"Yes," he said.

"Good," she said, "I hate strong silent types...they're so boring after sex!" Brad just smiled back politely. She's a shy one, he thought!

"You like it here? You like this club?" she asked now cutting into his space; not confrontational but with the pushiness of an assertive alpha female from the European continent who wanted to ask a question. She was fit, he reasoned to be a friend of Annette's; as the two alpha she-wolves most likely saw each other as cut from the very same piece of cloth. She was waiting for her answer and looking at him like she was deciding if Annette and Shelby had been fucking another "stupid pretty one" for kicks.

"Yes I do!" he answered. He'd of course have to do better than that if he were to shake off the "cute but stupid" label that her mind was placing atop his forehead.

"So," she said looking around," what do you think." She was standing peering straight into his eyes with those cold electric blue pools of hers. She'd cocked her jaw at an odd angle, already expecting him to say something like, Its Cool... Its bloody marvelous.....It's absolutely brilliant. What she got instead was Brad the analyst; who was used to sizing up situations and making an astute and nuanced appraisal.

"Somebody here is fucking brilliant," he said, "they've completely read the market like a book and decided to harness the need of a certain small but wealthy segment of the public. They've exploited a niche-market completely and gotten in before anyone else knew the market was there." Her jaw straightened out and she turned her head on its side, listening intently saying,

"Right, go on."

"They have a secret entrance to a place in the bottom of a simply awful Chinese buffet. Nobody of any real consequence would consider coming here; unless you wanted to keep it exclusive, meaning only a select few would entertain being here so far away from other decent clubs. The location avoids those "club clusters." It avoids the blokes with a lot of money but no 'sense' of dress and sophistication; the types who are going to take it a couple of streets over, (or they'll go to the East End, or they'll go south and hit up on the strippers a the Penthouse Club and waste time and quid there)."

"Getting warm," she said with blue eyes spot-welded on him; her nose a few centimeters from his breathing into his face, "keep talking."

"They check at the door for the usual things; are you cute, are you well dressed, are you trouble, are you a copper? They even have well paid off-duty and ex-coppers keeping the heat at arms distance; you scratch my back and I'll scratch yours if you watch your department and let us know if the law or the fire marshal will ever raid a place like this. Very smart!" The giant Viking princess looked at him and nodded.

"And....." she said, wanting to see him put it all together.

"The difference is you keep a certain aesthetic for the lads that come in. They look they all could be male models or extras on television commercials; all tall, muscular- but not thuggy. They want to make this as non-threatening as possible here. It's made for sex and debauchery but it is made... for ladies. Here a girl can be a complete and absolute cum-slut and she doesn't have to worry about some Neanderthal getting too rude or too stupid with her simply because he's brought a lot of cash and figures he'll possess some girl before the night is over. No, this club is made for women and as for the men... they are the candy without being overt about anything."

He paused and saw that she was still looking straight at him; giving his mind an x-ray with those unblinking eyes of hers. He now flashed a bit of confidence at her. He looked away at the dance floor and nodded his head smiling and then looked back straight into those eyes like he wanted to keep her in suspense. It was the same confidence that had made Annette absolutely moist when they'd slapped each other in their shouting match that led to their torrid fuck. He took his time and looking straight back into those eyes of hers said,

"The women are the market. It's all very good! This all brings in not those girls who work a full week and barely have enough to pay the bills; it attracts the rich girls ...the spoiled brat's who wish to annoy daddy and spend his money or that of their own fortunes-the owner of this place simply doesn't care!" He went on, feeling the tables in the conversation turning.

"Attractive rich girls spend money, but they like a certain type of man to be available, they make sure there is a steady stream of them coming through the door. This place gets a reputation for being where the upper crust come to enjoy themselves; a few Paris Hilton's or Kardashian trollop no-nothings show their pretty little heads in here (because it's a posh naughty place), and soon more posh naughty birds flock here and throw cash around. Somebody did their homework and built a better mousetrap after baiting it with truffles and caviar."

Anika ran her tongue in around inside her cheek and nodded; not feeling nearly so smug but feeling a tingle between her legs the way he'd spoken to her and not been flummoxed. She shot a look to Shelby and then to Annette and shrugged as though she knew she was wrong about him. She turned back saying once more,

"So pretty-face you like it?"

"I think it's clear I said as much," he replied being cheeky but having deserved to be so.

"Good," she smiled cocking an eyebrow at the little boy who now deserved to go to the head of the class, "I own it. It's my club! .... You can come in here any time you like, I'll be sure Dmitri and his friends at the door know what you look like from here on so there is no wait for you."

"You own it?" Brad asked.

"I quit Praetorian's Copenhagen branch a few years ago. I was working here in London for Annette as the local London rep. I saw the grass was greener and left. We stayed friends as a smart fellow such as you may have already figured out. Yes?" He nodded.

"I like him," she said turning back to Annette and Shelby, "he is pretty and he speaks well; plus he has a something in that pretty head of his too." She turned and began to walk to the bar past her former boss; wiggling a finger at them to follow and turning her head the two ladies over her shoulder saying,

"Of course you know very well, I fully intend to borrow him and fuck him!"

"Wouldn't have expected anything less from you dear," Annette said, "that's why we're still friends. We understand one another so well!" She said this with a sideways wink to Shelby who bounced alongside her boss; returning the wink and a smirk. They were going for drinks now; Brad bringing up the rear and feeling like he'd just figured out who'd killed Kennedy solely for their entertainment.

They walked down a passageway; ostensibly Brad figured, towards one of the many bars in the place. He was a bit confused however when the three women ahead of him turned into a side door that read, Coat Check Area. Who the hell brought coats?
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