Tuesday, March 02, 2010

Queen Bee by Gail Roarke is now available at Cobblestone Press

She never imagined that having her secret life revealed could be so fulfilling and pleasurable.

Buy it now here.
Additional stories by Gail Roarke are available here.


Daisy Cooper's fellow secretary likes to think of herself as a bad girl, butshe'd beshocked to discover her unassuming co-worker's secret pastime.Everyweekend Daisy sheds her mild demeanor and conservative image torevel inthe hedonistic pleasures of the notorious Soixante-Neuf sexclub. Sheknows exactly what she wants from the men there--and sheisn't shy aboutgetting it.

She also knows what she doesn't want--emotionalentanglements. But whena new co-worker stumbles upon her secret, Daisyknows things will neverbe the same. Her only choice is how to deal withthe changes.


"Got big plans for the weekend, Daisy?"

DaisyCooper glanced up from her computer. Her co-worker, Constance,wasleaning over the cubicle wall. The wall clock behind ConstancetoldDaisy it was nearly five. Almost quitting time.

"Oh, you know," Daisy said with a smile. She had plans all right—sex, sex, and more sex. Daisy was a regular at Soixante-Neuf, a local sex club. "Same old, same old."

Constanceshook her head in exasperation. "You need to get out more,Daisy. Go ona date occasionally." She glanced around and then saidsoftly, "Maybeeven get laid!"

Daisylooked down at her work again, hiding her smile. Constance likedtothink of herself as a bad girl, but she'd be shocked to discoverthetruth about Daisy's pastime. As would Daisy's employers, which waswhyshe kept it under wraps. They wouldn't understand or approve ofherlifestyle—and they weren't alone.

She'ddated men outside the swinging community. It hadn't gone well.Shecouldn't have a real relationship with anyone she couldn't behonestwith, but none of her relationships had survived her confession.Most ofthem broke up with her over her interest in casual sex withotherpeople. Two men had tried joining her in her hobby, but whilethey'dbeen extremely enthusiastic about the chance to sleep with otherwomen,they'd been jealous of Daisy's time with other men, and she'dbroken upwith them.

Therelationships she'd attempted with men from the swingingcommunityhadn't gone much better. The single men she'd gotten close tosawanything more than purely recreational sex as reason todemandmonogamy. Once they began thinking of Daisy as "their" girl,theydidn't want anyone else to touch her, and she'd written themoff—asboyfriends, friends with benefits, or anything else.

Aftertwo years of such fiascos, Daisy had sworn off drama. She becamearegular at the club, making friends and enjoying the benefitsthereof,but she steadfastly refused to dabble in romantic liaisons. Ithadworked well for her. Or so she told herself when she was feelinglonely.And, if she were honest with herself, she got a secret littlekick outof playing the mild-mannered office worker by day, man-eatingsiren bynight. Or on weekends, at any rate.

"Imean it, girl," Constance said. "You're a lovely young woman. Idon'tknow why you insist on hiding your light under a bushel."

Daisyclosed the file she'd been updating. "It's always cold in here,"shesaid truthfully. The office was always chilly enough to justifythesweaters and long skirts she wore.

Constancesighed theatrically. "You don't know what you're missing,Daisy." Shechecked that her computer was shut down and retrieved herpurse from adrawer. "Goodnight, dear. See you Monday."

"Goodnight, Constance. Have a nice weekend." I certainly intend to.

* * * * *

Daisy strutted into Soixante-Neuf as if she owned it. Blonde, beautiful, sexy…and alone. She'd exchanged her drab work attire for a midnight blue cheongsam—aform-fittingChinese dress—and matching heels. She nodded at the manbehind the frontdesk. He knew her well and no longer even asked forher membership card.

Theclub was moderately crowded, though nowhere near as packed as itwouldbe by midnight. Daisy wasn't the only regular. She waved orcalled outgreetings to men and women across the room. Othersapproached to giveher a hug, a kiss, or a grope. Often all three.

Stillothers simply watched her, heads turning as shepassed. They werenewbies or return visitors who knew her only as thegorgeous blonde whoshowed up every weekend. Maybe one or two of thosemen would work up thenerve to approach her on any given night. If theydid, and if she foundthem attractive, she might play with them. Ifnot...well, they had onlythemselves to blame.

"Daisy!"A naked woman with long, curly red hair approached. She wasshort andbusty, with pierced nipples. She was also flushed andsweating, clearlyjust done fucking someone.

"Emily!" Daisy leaned over to kiss Emily on the cheek, both of them careful to avoid mussing Daisy's dress. "Having fun, I see."

Emily grinned. "You know it!"

Daisydid know. Emily had been one of the first people to befriend herwhenshe'd first braved the club. She'd taken Daisy by the hand and ledheraround, introducing her to everyone. She'd also spent a lot oftimetalking to Daisy and answering her questions. She was the onlypersonDaisy knew who was more enthusiastic about swinging than Daisyherself.

Theyconversed for only a minute before Emily excusedherself to shower.Daisy moved on, drifting through the facility to seewho was there andwhat was happening. As usual, not a lot yet—peoplewere socializing,snacking, dancing, playing pool. Maybe indulging in alittle grab-ass.The only real action she discovered was in the publicplay area.

Shejoined the crowd clustered around a large group bed,their attentionfocused on a single couple. The crowd around the bedwas composed ofabout equal numbers of men and women. None of themseemed inclined to domore than watch, which they did in an almosteerie silence.

Daisyworked her way into a position to see the couple on the bed. Toherutter lack of surprise, she recognized a woman named Lisa crouchingovera dark-haired man Daisy didn't know, engaged in sixty-nine. SheknewLisa well. They'd often shared a bed, usually with several otherpeople,but occasionally just the two of them.

Daisy wasn't yet so jaded that watching other people havesex had lost itsfascination. She watched along with the rest of thecrowd for a fewminutes. Individuals and couples drifted away and werereplaced by otherspectators. Someone slid into position at her side, atall blond man—sixtwo at least—shirtless but wearing a pair of slacksand shoes. He sensedher attention and smiled at her before he turnedhis attention back tothe show.

Lisa and her playmate continued pleasing one another, seeming obliviousto theiraudience. Lisa began breathing more loudly and erratically,herattention to her blow job flagging. Daisy wasn't surprised whenLisaraised her head, halting her blow job to shudder all over and makethedelighted little noises Daisy had come to know so well. Then, herorgasmover, Lisa resumed her efforts.

The blond man next to her leaned in a little. "They sure seem to be having fun, don't they?"

"They do," she agreed. She waved a hand to indicate the crowd around them. "They seem to be the only ones, though."

He nodded slowly and moved closer. "I've noticed that. It seems tohappen alot. People pay good money to come to these clubs, and thenthey justsit around and watch. I don't get it."

"We're watching," she pointed out, though she hoped it wouldn't be for much longer.

Heacknowledged her point with a minute shrug. "Yeah, but I just gothere.What's your excuse?" He grinned. "I'm Paul, by the way."

She looked up into his eyes and said, very seriously, "Nobody's asked me yet. I'm Daisy."

Paulleaned in again, close enough that Daisy could feelhis breath on herear. She shivered, desperately horny and eager tojoin Lisa on that hugebed. "Sometimes," Paul said, "I'm tempted tojust announce, `Everyonewho'd rather have sex than watch sex, raise your hand!' Maybe that would get people moving."

She laughed. She knew exactly what he meant. "It might at that."

"Whatabout you?" He stood behind her now, not quite touching her butcloseenough that she could feel his breath on her ear when he spoke.

"What about me what?" she asked, deliberately drawing him out.

"Wouldn't you rather have sex than watch someone else have it?" Now he did touch her, placing his hands lightly on her hips.

Shefelt a rush of excitement. She glanced at him over her shoulder,bitingher lip as she considered it. He was a good looking man, andhisproposition was nicely done.

"Yes," she said. She turned to face him. "I think I would."

Gail Roarke
Blog: Signals From My Subconscious
Join my Yahoo group. Thursday is author promo day. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/gailroarkeauthor/

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