THE PANAMA CLUB: Pas de trois // Chapter 10

Within the confine of this odd erotic chamber in an abandoned Panamanian mansion, all time had stopped and Alvaro knew he and London were closed off and separate from the outside world. It put pinpoint focus on the things Ballard did to the woman Genesis; all that mattered was the spectacle of domination playing out in front of him like a slick and sexual instructional demo.

Alvaro watched with his arm around his fiancee’s collar, her head eclipsing his, as Ballard seduced, then punished the woman named Genesis. Once Ballard had Genesis naked, he commanded her to the leather apparatus, patting the leather. Genesis mounted the chair, large breasts hanging, swinging, her hard nipples dark chocolate buds on a rosy platter. She climbed up onto it and settled, her elbows pressing down on the leather padding. While she did, Ballard circled thick leather cuffs around the woman’s thin ankles, allowing her to leave her expensive high heels on. The woman purred and bit her lips as Ballard traced a finger over her naked haunch and up her bare back. He secured Genesis’s wrists with manacles similar to the ones on her ankles. Now the fit and sexy woman was secured to the black bench at all four points. Ballard operated a foot pedal that ratcheted upward the middle of the bench, like raising a tent, pushing Genesis’s stomach and lifting her ass up higher. Ballard selected an instrument of punishment from below the bench, standing with a polished wooden paddle, the grip wrapped with cushioned cork material, beating the glossy flat of the blade against his other palm with loud smacks. At the sound, London jolted in his clutch, her body stiffened, and her breaths grew deeper.

The idea that this aroused London drove him out of his mind with a crazy, infuriating lust.

They watched Ballard raise the paddle and bring it down on Genesis’s ass with a loud snap. The woman jumped but made no sound. The flesh of her big but firm ass bounced with each strike. At last, Ballard’s ministrations began to produce squeaking sounds of complaint as the repeated strikes to the same reddening flesh proved to much too bear in silence.

Snap! Snap! Snap!

Genesis’s face, though dark-skinned and tanned, like London’s, began to redden across the cheeks. Her chest also showed a blushing broadcast.

Alvaro’s hand slowly sagged from London’s collar to her chest. He gripped a breast over the fabric of her Gucci dress and could feel the hardened bulb of her aroused nipple under the fabric. London hissed and writhed against him, grinding her delicious rump into his bursting hard-on. His hand released her breast and swept lower, fingertips touching her thighs and finding the hem of her skirt.

He couldn’t wait for his turn to get London on the bench. Bend her over and let Ballard watch him strike her sexy little ballet dancer’s bottom. What sounds would London make? Would he break her, make her call him Sir? He couldn’t believe it would happen, but the mental picture made his cock throb harder.

Ballard set down the hassle and turned away, unbuttoning his shirt. Alvaro’s hand lifted the front of London’s skirt, higher and higher. The higher the skirt lifted the more London writhed. Her reaction to this spectacle was proof of how it aroused her. Before he even cupped a hand between her thighs he knew he would find her sopping wet.

Sure enough, his palm found the crotch of London’s panties warm and damp. When he pressed his hand against her pussy, she moaned aloud and her knees went weak. She slumped and he held her upright, the hand between her legs gripping a handful of that sex flesh between her legs. It weakened London further and he had to hoist her to stand her upright again. His future wife had been reduced to a sopping nymphomaniac at the erotic sight of this man who’d intimidated her paddling a naked woman. London was aroused by the display of domination, but he knew she also felt an attraction to Ballard’s masculine and domineering aura.

His hand slipped beneath the this silky film of her panties and stroked downward, fingertips first, ruffling through her matted pelt of pubic hair and finding her pussy lips swollen and slippery and so eager for penetration.

Ballard turned now, peeling the shirt off his chest and shrugging out his arms. He hung the shirt up on a hook screwed to a column. His body was hard and tanned and lean. Every muscle showed through the thin skin. Veins roped his muscled arms, and his dress pants hung low on his hips, showing off the ridge of abdominal muscle there. London sighed with ecstasy. Instead of being angered by her interest in another man, he was aroused by it.

He backed London to one of the ornate chairs, looking to sit down before he collapsed with her. He was as light headed by the display as London was. What he wanted most was to drive his cock inside her. Do it hard. Fuck her for hours until she couldn’t take him anymore. While they walked, London’s hand reached behind her and her palm found the belly of his cock trying to burst through his tailored pants. The feel of her small hand on his cock had him collapsing ass first into the chair, London coming down in his lap, his hand still stuffed down the front of her panties and slick to the wrist with her wetness. She ground the split of her ass against the bulge of his cock and he thumbed down her panties, two hands working on removing them. The dress’s skirt had risen to her hips as they sat and her long, lithe legs shimmied together, helping him remove her underwear, letting it fall around her ankles.

Mr. Ballard smiled, watching them on the chair together, out of their minds with sexual bewilderment, his eyes lowering to where Alvaro’s hand touched her. Alvaro held his breath, bit his cheek, took the hem of her skirt and lifted it higher, revealing his fiancee’s pussy to another man, wanting him to look. Wanting him to like what London Perry had between her legs.

***

Ballard’s eyes roamed between her legs and when she knew he saw that most secret part of her, bared to him by her soon-to-be-husband, her body began to shake. At first she was unsure why but as her breaths came quick and short, and her heart pounded in her chest, she realized what it was. And couldn’t believe what it was. Her body shook like the tracks of a train as a powerful locomotive thundered her way. An orgasm. An orgasm from nothing but being exposed to another man. Offered to another man. If Alvaro would reveal the thing she had that should only be his, it sent the message to this beautiful but intimidating man named Ballard that it was his as well.

That simple click of a connection sealed the fate of the impending freight train barreling down the tracks. Her tummy fluttered, her thighs shivered and she came as Alvaro showed Ballard what it looked like with two fingers sliding inside it. She gasped and clutched her own throat, locking desperate eyes on Ballard as the orgasm rifled through her. Her pussy gripped and squeezed on Alvaro’s fingers and she writhed against him, aware of the hardness between his legs as it drove against the small of her back with urgent demand.

Even Genesis watched now, wondering what had the attention of her Master. Blake watched her orgasm. It was humiliating and so profoundly erotic she wanted more and more, and wanted it right away. She wanted everyone in this room to put their hands on her, put things inside her, punish her over and over, and take hours to do it.

Blake smiled, his eyes twinkling in the chandelier light, a twist of mirth and lust and excitement. She could read from him how he understood how much it turned her on for him to see her pussy, and to see her when she came. It was such a secret thing—the most personal thing you could share. It was meant only for Alvaro, and that’s what made Blake’s eyes between her thighs so incredible.

Ballard returned his attention to Genesis, beginning to unbuckle the straps on her ankles. The diversion of his attention infuriated her and she wriggled against Alvaro, put her hand down over his and helped him resume finger-fucking her, wanting Ballard to watch her come again.

Alvaro complied, and Ballard’s eyes returned as he moved to the head of the bench and began to unbuckle Genesis’s wrists. And Alvaro did the dirties thing she could imagine. This man who went down on a knee and presented her with one of the world’s most astounding diamonds, used two fingers to spread her lips wide and show another man how pink her insides looked. Ballard loved the show, smiling with menace, and she wondered what terrible things a dominant man like Ballard would do to that sensitive part of her.

Genesis rose from the bench, climbing backward off it and stepping her high heels down on the parquet floor. But her attention wasn’t on London anymore, it went to her Master. Ballard leaned his ass against the peak of the bench’s raised A-shape and Genesis went to her knees before him.

“Oh God,” London gasped, wondering what she might see next, Blake’s eyes still burning on her pussy as Alvaro took turns knuckling her clit and easing fingers in and out of her.

Genesis’s hands worked the belt buckle loose, careful of her long, red nails, and then she drew down the zipper. As she moved to slip her hand in the open fly, Ballard gripped a handful of her long glossy ringlets and Genesis winced.

“Sir,” Genesis said, wincing, “please, may I suck it?”

“Did I ask for that?”

“I want to please you, sir.”

The words the woman spoke didn’t sound like things she would say. Genesis looked like she would cut a man if he did the wrong thing, like grab and pull her hair; she was intimidating and confident, and to hear her ask permission for what any man would beg her for got London chewing her lips and squeezing her hands in greedy fists. Every thing about this spectacle was exciting, illuminating, captivating. Ballard released Genesis’s hair and she began to tug open the fly of his pants and ease them down his hips.

This mutual revelation, this I’ll show you mine if you show me yours was tenfold more exciting than she could ever anticipate. Her Alvaro had shown Ballard what she had, what it looked like, how wet it was, how he could fuck it with his fingers, even folded back her labia so he could get a peek at her insides. What would Genesis reveal to her? They both had agents who performed the task of presentation, each representing a client that clearly needed to fuck.

But she couldn’t fuck Ballard. No way. No matter how hot this whole ordeal was, how eager her Alvaro seemed. And yet.

The pants inched lower, showing the tuft of his pubic hair, a mousy blonde, not as highlighted as the hair on his head kissed by the hot Panamanian sunshine. Then Genesis revealed the base of Ballard’s cock. Alvaro didn’t stop her from looking. Genesis would reveal to her what Ballard had between his legs just as Alvaro had done for Ballard. They were the principle parties.

Another trembling through her legs, her knees bouncing and her stomach twisting with rotten dirty desire. A second orgasm began to shiver up from her core.

Genesis kept tugging downward, and more of Ballard’s cock was revealed. It was thick, veiny. More cock, the pants going lower and lower. The thing was enormous, the pants halfway down his thigh and this monster between Ballard’s legs trapped in the fabric, eager to reveal itself to her in all its glory.

At last it was free, the enormous swollen head swinging away from the cocoon of his pant leg, bobbing like a heavy club between Ballard’s tanned thighs. It was unreal. It reminded her of seeing a randy bull when she was a teen, spending some summer weekends on her uncle’s cattle farm in KwaZulu-Natal. She’d sniggered and guffawed back then, but somehow now in this room with Alvaro and Ballard and Genesis, there was nothing funny, only a truly souring feeling below her tummy, like her sexual core flipped over with the suddenness of her intense desire for Ballard and its contents were squeezed out like rancid waste from a kitchen sponge. She bucked and squeezed choking cries from her throat as she orgasmed at the frightening sight.