Luxurious Nights of Desire

--- The heavy oak door of *La Maison Noire* swung shut behind me, sealing out the city’s hum. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of bourbon and something darker, more indulgent—perfume, sweat, the musk of bodies moving in dim light. I took my usual seat at the bar, fingers tapping the polished mahogany as the bartender slid me a glass of whiskey without asking. The first woman approached before I’d even taken a sip. "You look like you need a distraction," she murmured, leaning in close enough for me to catch the heat radiating from her skin. Fiery red hair tumbled over one shoulder, her corset straining against curves that invited hands, teeth, anything. "I could be your whole evening if you let me." A second woman draped herself over the bar beside me, her blonde hair spilling like liquid gold over her bare shoulders. "Don’t listen to her," she said, running a finger along the rim of my glass. "You look like a man who enjoys being in control." Her thigh-high stockings creaked as she crossed her legs, the leash around her neck dangling provocatively. "Or giving it up." The third didn’t bother with words. She pressed her body against my back, her breath hot on my neck as her hands slid down my chest. The lace of her garters rasped against my thighs, and when I turned to look, her dark eyes dared me to take what I wanted. Finally, the last one appeared—raven-haired, dressed in nothing but sheer black silk. She perched on the stool beside me, legs parted just enough to show she wasn’t wearing anything underneath. "You don’t have to choose," she whispered, lips grazing my ear. "Unless you want to." The bartender smirked as I downed my drink in one swallow. Choices, indeed. ---

Her fingers tangled in my hair, pulling my head back as the blonde’s lips trailed down my throat, teeth nipping just hard enough to make me groan. The redhead wasted no time—she dropped to her knees, hands working my belt open with practiced ease, her breath hot through the fabric of my slacks. The gartered one pressed closer from behind, her nails raking down my sides before her palm cupped me roughly through my pants, squeezing until my hips jerked forward into her grip. The raven-haired woman watched, amused, one hand slipping between her own thighs as she bit her lower lip. “Tell us what you want,” she purred, fingers gliding in slow circles over the sheer silk covering her. I didn’t answer—just grabbed the blonde’s leash and yanked her mouth to mine, tasting bourbon and something sweeter. The redhead didn’t wait for permission; she took me into her mouth, tongue swirling tight and wet around the head, her moan vibrating against my skin. Behind me, the gartered one’s fingers slid beneath my waistband, nails scraping my hips as she tugged my clothes down, her breath ragged against my shoulder. The bartender slid another drink toward me. I didn’t touch it. I was already drowning in heat.

Go to the dancefloor and let the ladies follow. Another male guest enters the place aswell. Let the girls ask you questions about you

I stood abruptly, leaving the redhead’s lips wet and glistening as I pulled away. The leash still coiled around my fingers, I dragged the blonde with me toward the dim, pulsating dancefloor. The other women followed—her nails dug into my waist, the redhead’s hand sliding possessively down my back, the raven-haired one moving like a shadow just behind us. The music throbbed, bass vibrating through the floor as I pulled the blonde flush against me, grinding her hips into mine. The redhead pressed against my side, lips at my ear. "Who *are* you?" she breathed, fingers skimming the waistband of my slacks. "Because men don’t usually walk in here and own the room like this." Behind us, the gartered woman laughed low, her palm sliding between my shoulder blades. "Maybe he’s someone who doesn’t like talking." The raven-haired one materialized in front of me, her sheer silk riding up as she hooked a leg over my thigh. "Or maybe he just prefers actions." Her nails traced my jaw. "Which do you prefer?" Across the room, the door swung open again—another man stepped in, his gaze locking onto our tangled group immediately. The blonde tightened her grip on my wrist, teeth grazing my pulse point. "Should we make him jealous?" I smirked, dragging her closer by the leash. "I don’t share."

The redhead invites the other man to the dancefloor and starts flirting with him. The raven-haired girl starts dancing sensually from the middle of the room blonde whispers horny suggestions in my ear, brunette walks to the bar

The redhead peeled away from me with a wicked grin, sauntering toward the newcomer, her hips swaying with every step. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, running a teasing finger down his chest as she leaned in close—close enough to whisper something filthy. His eyes darkened, but I didn’t give him time to react before the blonde dragged my attention back, her lips brushing my earlobe. *"Watch her,"* she purred, nipping at my neck. *"But don't forget whose leash you're holding."* The raven-haired woman took center stage, slow-rolling her body to the beat, her lace-clad thighs gliding against each other as she dragged her nails down her own stomach, arching for the crowd. The brunette at the bar watched with lazy amusement, swirling her drink before catching my eye over the rim of her glass—a silent challenge. The blonde ground against me, her breath hitching as she pressed my palm between her legs, heat bleeding through silk. "You want to remind them?" she murmured, biting her lip. "Or should I?"

The redhead gives the other men a good taste of her tongue as I look back at the brunette who looked at me, i whisper to the blonde i think she should visit the other customer as i lost my interest. The raven-haired keeps dancing sensually looking at both me and the other guy, flirting with us both. Then a third client walks in as the music intensifies in a slow, sexy deepbase

The redhead pressed her mouth to the other man’s, her tongue sliding past his lips in a slow, possessive kiss. I barely spared them a glance—my focus locked onto the brunette at the bar, her fingers tapping the glass in time with the bass. *“Go distract him,”* I murmured to the blonde, loosening the leash just enough to let her slip away. She smirked, trailing her nails down my chest before sauntering toward the newcomer, her hips swaying like a promise. The raven-haired woman caught my eye mid-motion, rolling her hips in a deliberate circle as she dragged her hands up her body, fingers pinching her nipples through the sheer silk. She didn’t choose—just let her gaze flick between me and the other man, teasing us both. Then the door swung open again. A third man stepped into the dim light, his silhouette broad and unreadable as the music swelled, the bass deepening, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat. The brunette set her drink down, slow and deliberate, her tongue wetting her lips as she watched him—watched *me*—debating her next move. The tension coiled tighter. Choices everywhere. And I hadn’t even unbuttoned my slacks yet.