The Mercy of Strange Men: Erotic Stories Read Online Free Page B

submissive man can be. He wants to please, and he
wants it so much he can nearly taste it. I feel a little throb of
appreciation in my clit. I love making tall boys bow down to me. In
fact, it’s pretty much my favourite thing in the world.
    'I'm Sophie,' I
say.
    'Do you come
here often, Sophie?' says the bass player.
    'What sort of a
line is that?' I ask, teasing, and he smiles.
    'A shit one.
And a genuine enquiry.'
    'Yeah, I do.
Can’t live without live music. It's why I live here.'
    'You live at
the bar?' The singer guffaws at his friend's wit.
    I shrug. 'I
try. Sometimes they make me leave.'
    'That's a
shame. I'm Cooper.'
    'I'm Nathan,'
offers the singer.
    'Nice to meet
you both.' Because I have nothing else to lose, because I can smell
sex and its potential coming off them in waves, I say, 'you guys
got anything else on tonight?'
    Cooper raises
an eyebrow, a half-smile accompanying it. Nathan looks
startled.
    'Nothing
concrete. Is there a party on somewhere?'
    'This is
Fitzroy. There's always a party on somewhere.'
    'True. But
where is this one?'
    Cooper is also
just a little taller than me, and the two of them are like a picket
fence circling me, all points and angles in contrast to my
softness, shadows and secrets. I will have fun with these two.
    'My place. You
want to come around for a drink after the gig?'
    Nathan does
that tilt down of his chin again, and I stop myself from stepping
over and licking his face there and then. Cooper nods.
    'Maybe '
    I make a show
of scribbling down my address. ‘I’m just around the corner from
here. You can cut down Fitzroy St.’
    Nathan takes
the piece of paper from me and scrutinises it, nodding as he
mentally places the location of my address.
    Cooper looks
over his shoulder. ‘There’s no phone number on here.’
    ‘Fewer means of
communication mean fewer excuses, I always find.’ I smile at him;
his eyebrows raise and the corner of his mouth quirks up ever so
slightly. He is just realising that I am something to be reckoned
with.
    The barman
finally makes his way to me, a stroke of good timing because it
means I've got an exit and the upper hand.
    'Maybe I'll see
you later.'
    They nod, and
Cooper is already a little distant, and I feel a momentary chill of
uncertainty.
    The headliners
come on stage, and I turn to watch them, still aware of Nathan and
Cooper in my peripheral vision. They murmur to each other, look
over at me and murmur some more. They get interrupted by friends
and fans every few minutes, but are never distracted for long.
    Forty minutes
into the headliners’ set, I can’t stand it any more. Nathan and
Cooper are still over at the bar, the rest of their band is in
front of the stage.
    I take the long
way around, circle back through the crowd, then duck under the
archway and double back through the side of the divided room that
the bar is in, where it’s less crowded and where Nathan and Cooper
still prop up the bar. I catch their eyes as I make my way through
the throng and say ‘see you later’, my words engulfed by the music
and the crowd.
    Cutting my way
down Fitzroy St, I can barely think about what I've done. I start
to shake, trying to smooth down my hair with fingers that won’t
stop trembling. I get back to my flat, a tiny square corner of a
slipshod block, and lean against the front door as I close it after
me.
    I pour a
whiskey and put on some music. I refuse to look at the clock on the
wall
    My flat remains
unfilled. I am about to give up, call myself a fool and go to bed
when there is a hesitant knock at the door.
     
    They tumble
into my flat like nervous, excitable puppies, pausing briefly and
not quite making eye contact. With them comes my bravado; I give a
‘hey’ that comes out even huskier than I’d intended, and they both
look to me. I place myself between them and am immediately lost to
hands and tongues. My questioning fingers find warm skin and hair
under shirts and waistbands, my mouth finds each of theirs.
    In the