What I am about to describe, is a place where I enjoy the most unusual nights of my life. I regularly found myself in the most exclusive, high-class establishment of erotica. Well, it certainly was exclusive, but to all intents and purposes, it was otherwise known as a sex club.

It was, however, a very, very different type of sex club.

I was drawn there, not for the sex, but for the ambiance, the music and the pianist. The sheer eroticism of this place had gained rave reviews, not to mention its high-rise vistas overlooking old London town; not that there was much of the old town remaining anymore.

This place had class. It was on the top floor of a large tower block, also known as the ‘Flame Spiral’ in the popular area of Canary Wharf; all the new buildings here had snappy names. The top floor comprised solely of glass walls. The polarised and coloured glass precluded most people from the other high rise buildings from actually looking in, and hence, inadvertently becoming peeping Tom’s. But for those perverts that lived high enough, and had telescopes, the management bid them good luck.

The clients, that’s what the mid-twenties to early forty’s men and women were called, enjoyed exclusivity and basked in the knowledge that the whole place was secure and uncompromised. The staff were hand-picked, loyal and above all, moral and unbribable. In a place like this, they had to be.

The room was elegant; split into six themed sections, each one of them quite large and would easily occupy a small sized hall, with dividing partitions that almost abutted a central rotating area with a stage. A walkway around the stage allowed the men and women to move freely from area to area; allowing them to watch or participate in whatever fantasy was on offer. It was laid out in the form of a clock face, every section representing ten minutes. The individual rooms opened outwards from the central area until they touched the glass walls of the tower.

In the central area, on the rotating stage, was a piano and every room was fitted with the state of the art WiFi sound system.

The whole place opened its doors at around eleven o’clock in the evening and festivities continued until the early hours of the morning, but at twelve, something special happened. Although people were starting to indulge in each other well before twelve o’clock; some of them were completely naked by then, pairing up and enjoying the pleasures of the flesh. Some had already disappeared into the various rooms.

I stayed in the bar area. I was waiting patiently for twelve. From twelve to one, was my golden hour, and I only had five minutes to wait.

The woman I had come to see, the pianist, appeared from behind the bar and made her way to the stage. She looked elegant, exotic and beautiful. My eyes darted across her body, and in an instant, I had absorbed every facet of her being. Her skin was the darkest black I had ever seen, her eyes a deep brown. She had the brightest red lips that looked like silk; I imagined it to be courtesy of Dolce & Gabbana or Kanebo Sensai or some other expensive brand. Her stunning white dress strummed her legs like a concert harpist would play her instrument.

In comparison, her blonde female companion, that held her hand until they reached the centre stage, took a very small amount of my attention. Once they reached the centre stage, the pianist sat down and the blonde started to check the equipment and sound system.

It was the pianist that I had come to see.

The first time I saw her I was instantly smitten with her looks and elegance. The graceful way she held her body symbolised confidence. Since that first time, I have come to admire her, and I suppose I secretly love her. I frequent this place just to see her, to hear her play the piano and listen to her words. Everyone else could be having sex around me, or be in various stages of undress, yet I know my attention and focus would be on her.

Of course, she doesn’t know I love her. I don’t even know her name, but I imagine it to be the most beautiful name in the world. I haven’t spoken to her yet, but tonight, I hope that I will.

A bell rang out to signify that twelve o’clock had arrived. Mellow notes started to invade the room. I always loved the Blues and Jazz music, and to hear it played by one, so stunning, was a joy to behold. The music did not invade, but complimented the erotic sounds that emanated from the whole place.

As the stage started to rotate, the pianist spoke softly into her microphone. It would take the stage an hour to complete a single three hundred and sixty-degree rotation; ten minutes in each section, even I could work out that Maths.

The pianist played beautiful music, but her words were erotically charged. Her voice had a low husky tone to it. Her words, carefully chosen to precisely describe what she saw in front of her, as the stage rotated.

“Welcome all you lovely people,” the pianist began, “welcome to the Golden Hour, I hope you all enjoy yourselves and that you have a sexy time here this evening.”

Yes, her husky voice made the whole situation far more erotic than just watching.

The Bar

The Pianist then started to describe what I could actually see.

“On the left of the bar I see a young couple, maybe newcomers, maybe just cautious or careful. His hands brush her hair from her face. They’re turning to look towards me now. I hope I don’t blush.”

I looked over the bar and could see the couple smile at each other; just like people do at football matches when they discover they are on TV. Only their actions were being described as it seeped from the sound system into every room.

“I see them look longingly at the Leather seats in the room next to them. Perhaps they are wondering whether they should steal some private time before exploring other delights. They seem happy to talk and sip their drinks for now. They look so young and there’s plenty of time for them to enjoy tonight.”

I watched them as they glanced sideways at each other. Was the pianist suggesting what they should do? Or could she really read their minds.

“A couple kiss while they lean on the bar. He’s looking lovingly and longingly into her eyes. Is this love?”

My eyes followed her words across the bar.

“In the centre of the bar area, for all you ladies with nothing better to do, is a gentleman with a well-toned body. His partner is removing his shirt to reveal a stunning six-pack, I reckon he must be a fireman in his day job. She’s a cheeky one too! Fancy bending over like that, showing me her TuTu; she does have a lovely smooth one as well! Did she kiss him there… Oh! You lucky girl.”

I clocked the couple, he was not difficult to find, but she was hidden from my view. Obviously, not from the pianist’s view, though.

“The barman looks cute, he doesn’t exactly look rushed off his feet, so if anyone is feeling thirsty. Now is the time to get that much-needed refreshment.”

Her voice rose at the end of the sentence, I smiled at the blatant plug to try and get people to buy drinks. She continued with her commentary.

“At the other end of the bar is a tall, well-groomed man. Dressed in a black dinner jacket, he sips a cool drink. He looks lonely. No-one should be lonely here tonight. He seems to be watching me.”

I realised she was talking about me, and I threw a wink in her direction. If only she knew how my heart felt at that precise moment.

“Now he’s flirting with me. Ladies and Gentlemen, he winked at me. Are there no loose women in this place ready to distract him. I think I shall call him 007, if you’re still on your own by the time I finish, come and say hello.”

My heart leapt from my chest. I had my invite to join her at the end of her show.

A tall blonde wearing a see through chemise dress walked towards me. She was practically naked underneath and I could see her dark aureoles shine through her dress. I even had time to notice her dark black landing strip through the fine fabric before she got too close; obviously not a natural blonde, I thought. I smiled and tilted my head as she approached me. She nodded as she walked past, her hand gently brushed against my thigh and stroked it as she continued onwards. It seemed she was not destined to be mine, not tonight, but then, I didn’t really mind. I had my lady for the night and she was in the middle of the stage.

The rotating stage continued to inch around, every minute of time marking out one degree as it rotated around.

The Mirrored Room

The pianist's voice was almost uninterrupted as the stage entered the mirrored room.

“I can see a couple, no two couples, maybe four. He’s holding her by the hips and bending her over sensually at the waist, he’s actually bending all of them over. You have to bear with me here folks, this mirrored room always confuses me.”

I swiveled my chair to follow her gaze to the next room. Had ten minutes been used up already? She was right, though, the mirrored room was confusing. It was a maze of angled mirrors. Beige cushions and seats were scattered in every nook and cranny; everyone and everything reflected everywhere. There were mirrors on the walls, ceilings and floor. Every angle could be seen from just about any other. No part of anyone’s anatomy was safe in this room.

“I can see him stroke he waist, lovingly, although I also see his urgency, his need to penetrate her. She has such an elegant waist. His hands wander over her body, floating above her creamy white skin. She is almost albino. I have never seen skin that white before. He’s readying her for him.

I watched the action and listened to her intoxicating words as she described every facet of the woman’s body and how aroused, yet gentle and unhurried the man was behaving with her.

“She is ready for him, anticipating his entry. I see her breath spread out on the mirror surface that is inches from her face. What a lovely sight it is to see a fully erect cock enter such a compliant body.”

I agreed. His entry was slow and deliberate, though, how long he would keep up this loving motion remained to be seen.

“I definitely I heard a gasp come from her mouth. If anyone has time to spare, do pop along to the mirrored room. They look so erotic together.”

I looked around the whole place to see if anyone was moving in their direction and sure enough, a few couples were migrating to the mirrored room.

I smiled at my pianist. How could she play such wonderful music and describe such horny and erotic events at the same time? I took a sip of my drink. Her words made me thirsty.

“I can see a man at the back of the room, his partner, flat on her back, her legs on his shoulders. I love the juxtaposition of black and white skin, it looks so erotic, I think.”

I would have to agree with her. Though I wished it was my white skin in juxtaposition with the pianist's black skin. I sighed as I wished more than anything for that eventual outcome for tonight. In reality, I knew tonight would not be like that, but maybe next week or the week after.

The pianist’s description continued.

“I see him enter her, effortlessly. I see his cock slide in and now out. I can only imagine what she would do with anything that came close to her open mouth right now. I know that I would love to be standing close to her at this precise moment.”

She wasn’t the only one. I couldn’t see the couple myself, but she painted such an erotic picture that I would have liked to have been there, presenting my penis to her lips and then sliding it slowly into her mouth.

“I can see their reflections in the mirrored roof. His firm buttocks show such potential for a good night, I’m sure she is going to enjoy this. She looks thrilled to be taken by him; it’s certainly thrilling for me to witness this. Give her one for me, honey.”

The pianist smiled as she directed her last sentence towards the rear of the room.

I wondered if the man she referred to was her partner or husband but I doubted it. I hoped he wasn’t. It’s funny, but in all the while I had been coming here, I never once considered that she had a partner. I guess, I just didn’t want her to have one at all.

I could see that my pianist had now rotated so that she was now side on to me. I could see the stage lights glint off her shoulders and scatter onto the black and white keys. She had changed the music and was now playing some gentle Jazz. She was so talented. What was she doing in a place like this? I suddenly felt like Bogart, I was certainly dressed like him. Should I go up to her at the end of this show and give her the most famous movie line of all time? I pondered the idea as I watched her intently.

I watched the curves of her body sway as her hands moved effortlessly over the keys. It was then that I had a dirty thought. I wondered what her long red-tipped fingers would look like, wrapped around my cock. I closed my eyes and tried to make the vision a reality.

Her words once more broke my concentration.

The Bondage Room

“Ladies and Gents, you have to see this. A young, dare I say it, a nubile woman is hanging from a rope in the bondage room. The rope is tightly bound around her wrists, as she dangles from a hook in the ceiling; her toes are just touching the floor. A black silk scarf is tightly bound around her eyes; it forms a wonderful contrast to her natural red hair flowing over her magnificent, full breasts.”

I pried myself away from the couple in the mirrored room. His urgency had escalated since the pianist mentioned how erotic they looked together, his pace had certainly increased. I wondered whether it was spurred on by her words. My view of the bondage room was partly obscured by one of the partitions, so I had to rely purely on her description of the events.

I closed my eyes and listened to her husky voice. Her words were suggestive, sometimes obscene but they always came across as sensual. She seemed to relish in describing the hot, spicy and raunchy events happening before her.

“I see a slim man caressing the redhead from behind, his hands alternating between her breasts and waist. He is relishing on taking his time with her. A dark haired woman is kneeling in front of her. Her face is so close to the redhead’s sex that I would have to say, her breath would be condensing on her, making her even wetter.

Her hands are resting on the redhead’s hips and I can sense her urgency as she pulls her forwards.”

Her words were pure lust. I loved every one of them. The picture she painted was beautiful.

“I see that unrelenting sensual muscle in her head being extended. Ladies…You know the one.”

The pianist let out a sigh as if someone, under the piano, had done the same to her.

I was lost in the eroticism of her words. I found my hand wander to my crotch and stroke my hardening cock. Her words were wonderfully descriptive, poetic and her choice of erotic phrases thrilled me.

“This threesome is such a wonderful sight. I would be quite happy if the stage stopped turning right now. In fact, I would be happy to replace the woman on her knees in an instant. For all you bi-curious women wanting to know how to pleasure a female, the Bondage Room is giving away free tutorials, right now! It’s a shame this thing keeps turning, a real shame!”

I agreed with her. I could have listened to her describe the threesome, at full length, all night.

“Before we move on, which we must, I have a confession to make. I would very much like to spank the upturned bottom of the lady on her knees. I wish I could give her the pleasure she is giving the redhead right now!”

I wanted to know more. I wanted to know how the man was going to pleasure her. Where would he choose to put his throbbing member? Would the redhead squirm between the both of them? How long would it take for her to release all her pent up emotions in a single erotic outburst? I wanted to know much more.

I found myself willing the stage to break down.

The Specials Room

“I apologise, but I have to move on. We arrive at the Specials Room where tonight, is a night of discovery. I see that the room is dominated by a black box, tall and large enough to contain a single person. There must be someone pretty special inside because everyone outside is trying to cop a feel at them through the many holes cut into the box. I believe the person inside is a woman, judging by the number of men waiting patiently for their turn.”

I could see the black hole, as it was commonly referred to, from where I was sitting. I wondered just how the pianist was going to describe this one and I waited impatiently.

“One guy seems to be having a lot of fun. He has both arms inside the box, up to his shoulders, and by the way he is flexing his muscles, I can only imagine he is squeezing and caressing a wonderful pair of breasts. Opposite him, and further down and on her knees, is a lucky blonde woman. One of her arms is also inside the box. I must conclude, from the look on her face, that her finger is wet and encased in a silky sheath of her captive beneficiary.”

Wonderful words, I thought, ‘Captive beneficiary,’ it just struck a chord with my strange sense of humour.

“I cannot describe what is going on inside the box, but I think we need to know, don’t you? So, we are going to give you all something special.”

Something special, I thought, I wondered what that could be.

“Ladies and Gents, for the next nine minutes, we are going to broadcast the sounds from within the box. Every sensual sound, wanton wail, lewd moans and groans, wild abandoned profanities and hopefully a few well-chosen four letter words. I hope you will enjoy. I know I will.”

The pianist stopped speaking and the music ended.

I watched as the pianist took a deep breath and accepted a long cocktail from her female companion. This must be her break. Every artiste had to have a break. I watched her sip her drink. I was not surprised to see her gaze return to the bondage room, but her eyes never rested on them long enough to enjoy the sights. I saw her push her lips into a pout as she stared straight ahead. She licked sucked at her top lip and then took another sip of her drink. The whole motion was both sensual and erotic.

I could have kissed her right there and then; replacing her drink with my intoxicated lips. Maybe she wouldn’t notice and would reciprocate in kind.

The sounds from within the black hole started to pervade all the areas of the club. I imagined hands groping and pleasuring the woman inside. Hands that stroked her thighs, tickled behind her knees, stroked her breasts, caressed her whole body and tweaked her nipples. I saw so many hands probing the box, all without names; but all providing a source to her verbal pleasure. Her moans became louder and louder until she screamed with ecstasy; her final release was broadcast throughout the whole club; and yes, there were a few four letter words that rang out.

I wondered whether the management would provide her with a CD for her efforts or even give her a free entry for becoming tonight’s star of the show!

The sound of her pleasure soon faded. I saw the pianist ready herself and once more, the Blues sang out from the piano. I couldn’t believe that nine minutes had passed so quickly. Suddenly, I realised that only twenty minutes remained before I would strut up to her and introduce myself. It would be twenty very long minutes.

The Big Bedroom

“Hi there everyone, do I have your attention,” the pianist’s voice broke through the music, “I am looking into the big bedroom, this room never ceases to behave itself,” she let out a giggle before continuing, “I can see a wonderful Soixante-neuf in the centre of the big bed, a fully erect cock is watching them, eager to join in, but considerate enough to wait to be invited.“

I thought that was a nice touch, describing the cock and not the person. It probably summed up the situation nicely.

“A couple is playing on the right-hand side of the bed. Her legs are open wide, very wide, and her female lover has her face pressed against her pleasure spot. Her lover seems very energetic. The look on the other woman’s face is but a picture of delight, especially as it’s full of that wonderful black cock. Let me tell you! I have seen some big ones in my time, but he has a cock that all you white girls will quite happily die for.”

From across the room, I watched the scene develop, they certainly seemed to be having a lot of fun. I could see that the man nodded to my pianist when the size of his cock was mentioned. The smile on his face noted his acceptance of her words. I wanted to stride across there and join in. I could have, but I just wanted to listen and hear my sexy lady’s words of sexual depravity, pervade the arena.

“There’s lots of noise from this bed,” she continued, “everyone is fucking or in some stage of sexual depravity. I like the big bedroom. I can hear a woman, from the back of the room, cry out. She must be having a wonderful orgasm. Words like that never fail to get me aroused.”

I, too, was aroused, from her words, her descriptions and from the scenes in front of me. At twelve forty-eight in the evening, there was no-one left at the bar. In fact, I think I was the only person in the room with their clothes still encasing their body. I did think I looked dapper in my dinner jacket, which, kind of, made up for me not being naked.

The stage rotated. It was twelve fifty and the last room approached, ever closer.

The Leather Room

“We have reached the final room. I see our young friends that we met earlier have found a leather chair to sit on, sort of,” the pianist let out a soft giggle, “he looks so relaxed against the back of the chair as it curves under his torso, his legs out to either side. His wonderful companion straddles him,” the pianist let out a big sigh, “I have no idea where his cock could be.”

I did, and I have to admit they looked wonderful together. Her lighter skin contrasted with his tanned body as she rode him.

“Okay, maybe I lied. I knew exactly where his cock was,” she emphasised her words carefully. “The pleasure on her face is exquisite. She seems to be in heaven, a highly aroused version of heaven.”

The pianist’s words were spot on. If I had to place a bet, I would say she was about to come in about thirty seconds, maybe less.

“Let it happen, let him see the pleasure you are receiving. Tell him how nice his cock feels.”

The pianist was urging her on; pushing her on her journey towards sexual bliss. I think, from what I saw, the woman was responding to the words as well. She was pushing her bum against his erection in the most erotic way; taking her time and savouring every long inch of his erect cock.

“That’s it, show him how it feels. Tell him what’s happening inside you.”

The woman dipped her face to kiss the lips of her lover. I wondered whether she whispered that she was about to come, to him as she did so. Her bum rocked backwards on his cock, I saw her raise her head and gasp aloud. Several moans escaped her. His hands grasped her waist to steady her, as he pulled her body down onto his cock. There was no doubt that I witnessed their intense orgasms, as they rocked their bodies together.

Then came the words I had been dreading all evening, only from the point of view that I would miss them. “I would like to thank you all for being here, tonight. I hope you’ve enjoyed this Golden hour. Have fun, you wicked people!”

With those words, the show ended. The pianist relaxed on her stool and I made a beeline for her.

I stepped up to the podium. “Hi,” I said, “007 at your service.” She slid over on the stool to give me some space to sit next to her.

“Hello,” she responded, her voice just as deep and sensual as her stage voice. I noticed a wry smile cross her lips, “You’ve been watching me all night, haven’t you?”

“I have to admit, I have. Not just tonight, but on previous occasions as well. I think your voice is so sensual, I loved the way you play the Blues and Jazz, and if I may be so bold, I think you are absolutely gorgeous.”

A broad grin crossed her face, “Thank you, I don’t know what to say. Do I know you?”

I thought the question was a strange one to ask but said nothing. I stared at her face.

I noticed a lock of her hair had become estranged from the side of her head. I reached out with my hand to put it back in place. She never even flinched as I plucked it from her face and tucked it back into her otherwise well-groomed hair.

I realised then as to why she didn’t look directly at me.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” I whispered quietly, “How do you describe everything?”

She laughed out loud; raising her head upwards as she did so. Her hand reached up to her head as she did so. She pursed her lips before speaking, “Well…” she said as she prised the earpiece from her left ear, she wiggled it at me, “A man speaks to me through this, tells me everything I need to know,” she confessed.

I was impressed. It was a lovely charade. I was in the company of a beautiful woman that played the Blues, spoke erotically, using the words of a man.

I suddenly felt a lot closer to her for knowing this. “So, what does a gorgeous woman, like you, do after a gig like this?”

She smiled, coyly, but said nothing at first.

“I don’t suppose you get involved in all of this, do you?” I added quickly. My mind was dragged back to the scene where her hand curled around my cock.

The pianist took a deep breath, “No, no I don’t. Sometimes… I think I would like to, but I just play my music and let everyone else know what a good time I see in front of me.”

The irony was not lost on me. “I don’t suppose…”

She interrupted me before I had time to finish my sentence. I guess she knew where it was going.

“I have to stop you there, I’m sorry but I have to disappoint…”

I felt disappointed, her words stung a little, but after all, this was our first date; well mine at least,

“That’s not a problem,” I replied, “you must be tired.”

I guess she heard the disappointment in my voice. “Tired, yes, and a lesbian,” she replied.

“Ah!” I smiled, safe in the knowledge that she could not see the look of embarrassment on my face.

“I will be going home,” she continued, “have a bath, maybe a shower, sprinkle on some exotic perfume, and slip between the sheets. My lover will be there, waiting for me to wake her, entice her by placing tender kisses on her neck and down her back.”

By the look on her face, she seemed to be dreaming the next few moments of her life.

“Enjoy your time with her, she is very lucky to know you and be a part of your life.”

It was then she turned to me, “Thank you so much. I’m the lucky one,” she suddenly perked up and with renewed vitality in her voice said, “Next time we should have a drink afterwards. You can tell me your story. Why you like this place? Why you’re still clothed when everyone else is naked? I have so many questions.”

Her hand suddenly made a beeline for my face. Her gentle touch startled me as she began to explore.

“You have a kind face,” she said.

I nodded, “I would like to talk with you next time… Right,” it was my time to be perky and full of life, “I will let you go home to your waiting lover.”

We both rose from the stool but she stumbled slightly as the stool refused to move as much as she expected it to.

“May I help you,” I said as I offered her my arm.

“Thank you,” she replied, taking it and holding it tightly, as I escorted her back to the bar.

I left her companion to take over shortly before we reached the dressing rooms. “May I ask…” I hesitated slightly but continued anyway, “What’s your name?”

She smiled, almost laughing at my question. It was the nicest smile I had seen her make all evening. “Myfanwy,” she replied, “I know, not a name that you would associate with me, but, my father’s Welsh!”

I smiled, “Nice to make your acquaintance, Myfanwy, it’s a lovely name.” I knew her name would be beautiful and I was not disappointed.

She hesitated as she tilted her head towards me, “And yours?”

“Matt,” I replied.

“I was hoping it would be James,” she said, laughing.

I watched her leave and then turned to look out at the sexual debauchery that was so wantonly displayed everywhere. The sound of fucking and orgasmic release filled the room completely. Somehow in our solitary space, we had managed to exclude all these noises. I saw that some bodies were slapping into each other at a phenomenal rate and others were displaying sensual and smooth rhythms.

Somehow, I didn’t feel like joining in, not tonight.