The Hour of Passion

“Explain how it works again?” Olivia said, looking at Ella and Victoria as they walked south on Bowery.
Ella, the dancer, wore a flouncy little black dress and cowboy boots, even though it was fifty degrees out. Victoria, the librarian, wore a gray wool pencil skirt, dark Cuban heel stockings, a pearl-white blouse, and a red peacoat. Olivia wore a long wool coat that came down past her knees to cover the fact that she wore nothing under it but a red lace bodysuit, garter belt, and red stockings.
Like most events at the club, there were no printed invitations or emails, nor evidence of any kind. Information was passed verbally, so it was vital that people like Victoria were around to convey things precisely.
Victoria cleared her throat and smiled. “Well, they obviously took inspiration from one of Anaïs Nin’s stories. It’s d‘heure de passion.”
“The hour of fish?” Olivia asked with a wrinkled brow.
“The hour of passion,” Victoria corrected. “A dance where people are encouraged to change partners. Anything can happen, so before the game begins, they will ask whoever is on the dance floor if they are comfortable with the people around them. Club rules always apply, of course. If anyone says, ‘red,’ the game stops. The rules are simple, though. It’s almost like something kids would make up. The band will play, and we all will be asked to dance, changing partners and turning and mingling as we do. At some point, the music will stop, and a few seconds later, the lights will go out. Then, everyone is free to fall into the arms of whoever is closest.”
Ella laughed. “Sounds like seven minutes in heaven.”
Victoria frowned. “Well, five minutes. After five minutes, the music will start up again, and a moment later, the lights will come back on. The rule is, you have to be presentable when the lights come back on. There will be monitors. Clothes on and hands where we can see them, or you have to get off the dance floor.”
Olivia smiled and shook her head. “We’re supposed to be presentable? That sounds like the real challenge.”
“The music will play another song or two,” continued Victoria, “and then the next time it stops, the lights will go out for ten minutes — same rules — and finally, fifteen minutes. By then, who knows what state we will all be in!”
“Oh lord, it will be an orgy,” Ella said.
Olivia marveled at the idea, but it also frightened her a little.
They turned onto Prince Street and walked the final few blocks to the club.
“Do you really want to dance tonight, or is it that you think he’ll be there?” Olivia said to Victoria, laughing and suggestively raising her eyebrows.
“It sounds like a hot game, no matter who is there,” Victoria said sharply.
“Who are we talking about?” Ella asked.
“The professor,” Olivia explained.
“Three-piece tweed suits, gives lectures on taboo sex in literature. Victoria has been obsessed with him ever since she was in one of his classes and tried to fuck him, and he said she was too young.”
Victoria cleared her throat again.
“He said, ‘I’m too old for you,’ which everyone knows means he might be interested. If they aren’t interested, they say, ‘You’re too young for me.’ That’s well-established.”
“That is well-established,” Ella said, nodding in agreement.
The club was set up very differently that night. The black leather couches that usually lined the walls had been pulled to form a large square around the center of the dance floor. The tables and chairs that usually faced the stage were instead placed around the perimeter of the dance floor, showing where the night’s entertainment would be. On stage was the house band, Katrina and the Sirens.
Katrina was a tall, broad-shouldered woman in a dark green, sequined flapper dress. She sat on a stool with her old guitar, its aluminum resonator shining. The equally tall bassist stood behind her on one side, two horn players stood on her other side, and the drummer was situated behind them all.
Olivia watched the small crowd walk into the center of the dance floor and sit on the various couches. It was one of the smallest crowds she’d ever seen at Under the Roses, but it was still a distinctly Under the Roses crowd: handsome gentlemen in well-tailored suits, women in pretty black dresses, and various people of various genders looking hot in various ways.
Instead of the usual bartender, there were pitchers of water and a huge punch bowl on a table near the dance floor, which gave the elegant room the atmosphere of a kind of surreal prom. Victoria, Olivia, and Ella made their way to the drinks and found the punch to be a deliciously fruity and floral concoction that was deceptively strong. They downed two glasses and slipped back onto the dance floor as the curtains opened and the spotlight came on.
Alexis, the tall, dark emcee, took the stage. As usual, he wore a sequined vest and matching slacks, his face made up in elaborate makeup the color of a peacock’s feather.
“My delicious guests, welcome to an extraordinary evening at Under the Roses. We’ve been planning this for a while now, and I’m so glad I get to be here as the mysterious Mr. Lee’s plans have finally come to fruition and d‘heure de passion is about to begin!”
He went over the rules, almost a verbatim re-creation of what Victoria had explained earlier. When the lights were on, everyone was encouraged to dance and required to remain clothed. When the music stopped, it meant the lights would go out for five minutes, then ten, then fifteen. There was no word on what would happen after that.
“We’ve closed the doors,” Alexis went on, “so the people around you are the only players in this naughty game. If you aren’t comfortable with this group or anyone in it, then we ask that you step off the dance floor now.”
He waited as the crowd looked around.
Victoria saw the professor. He was dressed in a lighter suit, perhaps one made for dancing. He was tall, in his late forties, dashing and charming.
“Okay,” Alexis carried on. “House rules apply as always, but tonight is a bit more forward than usual. Be sure you are ready when the music begins. There will be a few songs before the first lights-out. Have fun, kiddies!”
As the lights dimmed a little, Katrina, the band’s leader, smiled out at the crowd and strummed her guitar once. “We’ve been asked to go in a somewhat different direction tonight, which is kind of exciting for us,” she said. “We’ve been practicing all week. We hope we can help get the game going.”
Instead of their usual swing style, the Sirens slipped into Brazilian jazz with a Samba beat. Some people got right into dancing, while others stayed on the couches and mingled, sipping punch until the second song arrived and everyone was on their feet.
The tension started there: How many songs until the lights went out? Who would you be next to? What would they do?
Olivia danced with Victoria as she looked around the crowd. “Professor at five o’clock,” Olivia whispered.
Victoria looked over Olivia’s shoulder at the professor. He was taller than she remembered, dashing, with a short, salt and pepper beard. He had no tie on and danced — surprisingly well — with a tall woman in a red dress.
Olivia liked to see Victoria longing. Her friend could be a little stuffy at times. “Pretty nimble for an old man,” Olivia whispered.
Victoria glared at her again. “He isn’t even fifty,” she said.
“Still, lots of daddy vibes over there,” Olivia smirked.
The music picked up a bit and Olivia took the lead, moving them closer to the professor and his dance partner.
The music was hypnotic. There was something biological about the rhythm; it got in your blood. As they danced closer, Victoria caught Ella out of the corner of her eye. She smiled wickedly as she moved toward the professor.
When the music stopped, it was in the middle of a song. Then there was a little count, a drumstick on the side of the cymbal stand: one, two, three, four, five. Under the Roses was an unusual venue in that there were no windows, no exit signs, not one bit of illumination in the whole place. So when the lights went out, it was pitch black.
There was a loud laugh, and then a high-pitched yelp. Two voices argued a bit; and then, a moan.
Victoria felt around a little, and her hand brushed someone’s hair. There was another laugh. Someone bumped into her, and then hands slipped around her from behind. There was a clumsy kiss on her neck. It was stupid that something so simple could start something inside of her, but there was a spark instantly. She loved the anonymity; she didn’t think it would really be so chaotic.
Hands moved up her body; thin, strong fingers slipped up her stomach and cupped her breasts.
When the smell of perfume touched her nose, she instantly recognized the scent as Ella’s. She laughed, but then let out a little whine as Ella’s fingers found her nipples and pinched cruelly. “You better find that professor of yours next round. I like the look of him,” Ella whispered into Victoria’s ear. “I bet his hands are strong and rough. I bet his cock is thick. I might just go for him if you don’t.”
“Bitch,” Victoria said, but she was smiling.
“Always,” Ella replied, biting Victoria’s neck.
In the dark, the music started up again, and Ella let Victoria go. The buzz of laughter and whispers grew louder, and in a few moments, the light began to come on, slowly in order to give everyone’s eyes time to adjust. The music grew louder, and Victoria looked around at the crowd: Hair was messed up, people were blushing, and some clothes were disheveled, but no one was out of bounds yet. Clothes were still on, and people were smiling and laughing as they began to dance again.
Victoria saw the professor and decided to take a chance. She made her way across the dance floor, dancing around people and not stopping for anyone. He was at the other end of the floor, red lipstick on his cheek and bottom lip, and a big smile on his face.
He turned her way, and she pointedly looked away at someone else. She watched some recognition pass over his face as she found a pretty man in a sequined shirt to dance with for a moment. She tried desperately not to look the professor in the eye; she wanted him to figure out who she was on his own. When the music stopped, Victoria parted from her temporary dance partner and moved backward toward the professor. But the darkness descended before she got to him.
Bodies moved quickly around her, and she found herself surrounded by hushed whispers, the wet sound of kissing, a yelp and someone saying, “Ouch!” Then, Victoria’s back bumped into someone solid and tall.
Once again, hands came up around her, holding her in place at first, then exploring. The large hands moved up her hips to her waist and then up to her breasts. Those hands were then joined by another pair, smaller and from in front of her, then a feminine laugh as someone pulled up her skirt and slipped around to grab her ass.
The professor — and really, everything else — fled her mind, and there was only the helpless feeling of being touched in the dark, surrounded by people who were writhing and petting each other.
The hands of the person in front of her were much more direct than the others, going right for Victoria’s panties and pulling them down, and then off, before she could even reach down to stop them; she wondered if she even would have wanted to.
Then fingers between her legs and the hands behind her opened her shirt and roughly touched her breasts. Was it the professor? Were those his greedy hands? Whose fingers were searching between her legs? And whose fingers were inside of her?
Being penetrated in the dark, surrounded by people, further pulled Victoria into a state. She was being pushed and pulled by two (or was it three?) people. Her shirt was completely open, and her panties were gone.
In a moment of clarity, she reached up to the face of the person behind her, thinking it may have been the professor. But she found the man’s face to be smooth, which was a disappointment, but also one that filled her with the complicated arousal of not knowing who was touching her.
As she contemplated this, the person in front of her slipped their fingers out of her and knelt in front of her. Victoria’s legs were pushed apart, and someone’s head moved between them. A hot mouth just touched Victoria’s pussy when the music started up again.
Hurriedly, Victoria closed her blouse and fumbled with its buttons while straightening her skirt.
When the lights came on, she was staring at the grinning face of her friend Olivia, who was licking her lips dramatically.
“Liv!” Victoria said in shock.
“I always wanted to know what you tasted like. What can I say?” Olivia said with a laugh.
The music was fast, but the crowd didn’t seem to be dancing much. Everyone was on edge; clothes were messed up, hair was a wreck, lipstick was everywhere. Antony, the bouncer, had been on the sidelines, and for the first time, he pulled a couple out of the crowd and sat them down, since both of them had one breast out each.
Ella came over to them and grabbed Victoria by the hand. “I can’t watch you bumble around anymore,” she said.
She dragged Victoria a little ways and then pushed her right into the bearded man she had been talking about all night.
“I… I thought it was you. It is you! Victoria, from my class, years ago?” he asked.
“You remember me?” she asked with a grin.
“You made quite an impression,” he said flirtatiously.
She smirked. “Yes, I was a pretty forward girl back then.”
“Unlike now?”
She smiled coyly. “I’m shy now. Just a wilting flower.”
As he laughed, the music stopped, and they stared at each other intently. When the lights went out, they were already kissing — hungry, desperate kisses.
“You’ve haunted me,” said the professor. “Did you know that? I was being good. I was following the rules. Every day, after you whispered in my ear, I thought about you and cursed myself for not taking you up on your offer. Do you know what that’s like? And now, here you are?”
He pulled up her skirt and placed his hands between her legs, finding no panties and wet thighs.
Around them, the sounds of the crowd went from playful and petting to something animal. Skin slapping skin, grunting, and moaning.
Victoria had him. She had him, and she smiled in the darkness. She leaned forward and pushed her ass back.
“You shouldn’t. I’m a student, professor. You can’t just fuck me. You can’t just slip your thick cock into me in the middle of a room full of people,” Victoria whined in a sing-song, girlish voice.
He groaned and kissed her neck. She reached back and pulled at his belt, felt for his zipper. They didn’t have long; the lights would soon come back on. She needed to get his cock inside of her. With a roughness that surprised her, he pulled her hands away and opened his pants himself. He pulled her arm and twisted it behind her back, ably. She winced.
“You have to be quick before someone comes in,” she whimpered.
He pulled her skirt up again and pushed her forward, and then he was inside of her, and it felt light lightning. The rhythm of their bodies took over, and she was too overwhelmed to even gloat. He was rough with her, and that’s exactly what she wanted.
His hands wrapped around her hips, pulling and pushing her fast and hard as they tensed for their time to run out. When she started to come, she thought the lights had come on because she saw lightning behind her eyes, and for a moment, the world went white.
But then the darkness came back, accompanied by the sound of his orgasm. She let him ride her hard and pushed back against him as he came. They gasped together as the music started, sounding almost like a carousel starting up, and then the lights slowly faded up.
Victoria realized the game was over. There was no need to fix herself up. Looking around, she saw that everyone seemed to have the same idea, now-spent bodies on the dance floor and couches, half-naked and panting, one and all. She saw Olivia and Ella coiled around a tall woman with a wide generous mouth, the three of them naked and smiling, their cheeks beet-red. And looking up, she saw the professor looking down at her.
“You could have called. You knew where I worked. You waited until now?” he asked with a smile.
She shrugged. “I guess, but I like it better like this. Anyhow, I’ve had two birthdays since then, I have to be old enough by now,” she said, snuggling closer to him.
He groaned. “You’ll be the end of me. I can’t possibly keep up with you.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I don’t know, you seemed to do pretty well. Take me home, and we can see how round two goes?”
His eyes bulged. “See, I only have a round and a half at most in me these days,” he said with a groan, getting up.
She rolled her eyes. “I’m going to have to teach you everything, aren’t I?” she said, taking his hand and standing up.
“I might like that. It’s been a while since I’ve fucked my teacher, but it’s happened once or twice,” he said, pulling up his pants and straightening himself.
He looked at her as she straightened her skirt. Her shirt was open, her breasts exposed. Her cheeks were red, and her hair was a mess.
“My god, you are spectacular,” he told her.
She smiled and relished the look in his eyes. “See, round two is easy if you are charming enough to convince me to be on top.”
She took his hand and they made their way to the door. Olivia and Ella waved as Victoria dragged her professor away for private lessons.