Working on Part Two of Sex Camp.
Helen delves deeper into the world she opened after Hayden and Collin invited her to the mysterious camp. She kindles a love with one of them, while love and sex spurn many new arrangements in her life.
Here's some eye candy, inspiration for the love hunk Hayden:
He takes her to a New York City rooftop restaurant inspired by this:
Here's a sample:
His car is waiting in the street. It is a silver luxury convertible, the kind you would only use to drive around town, escorting a beautiful companion.
Hayden leads me to the passenger side and holds the door. As I slide into the black leather seat, tingles form every place my body touches the plush cushion. I realize there's only one outcome to this date. It's just who he is, and who I am now too. I sink into the comfortable cushion as Hayden gets in and puts it in drive.
He takes it slow down the main streets, making a soft, cool breeze through my hair. He doesn't play music, and he doesn't talk.
It's strange that he doesn't even ask me where I'd like to go. Then again, I completely trust him to make the evening perfect.
We take the tunnel downtown. Traffic is light and we reach the shopping district with little trouble. Hayden pulls up to what looks like a hotel. Is he hoping to get right into the action? But as we turn the circle to valet parking, I see it is a restaurant, with patio and indoor seating. He hands the valet the key then comes around to let me out.
Hayden holds out his hand, but the look on his face makes me pause. It is so earnest, like newlyweds would be before entering the honeymoon suit. As I rise he places his hand on the small of my back, and I am reminded of how Colin escorted me to the main building at Camp. But Hayden doesn't lead me to another social club where everyone seems familiar with each other. This is an upscale restaurant, by the looks of it serving mostly European food. Hayden gives a nod to the hostess, and she lets him pass with a smile.
We pass the tables to an elevator on the back wall. Another couple enters with us and I humph. I think it would have been fun to be alone with this hunk on the ride.
Hayden traces circles on my back as we rise to the top floor. The blonde woman beside us glances at Hayden and visibly blushes. Of course, any woman would be jealous. He walked right out of Glamour Magazine.
When the elevator doors pull open, we are greeted by a calm breeze. The entire floor is open air, roofed with lattice and a thick network of vines. Goosebumps form on my skin, more from the beauty of it than from chill.
A server leads the other couple to a table. Hayden, completely at ease, guides me to the right. The roof top is gorgeous. Living palms stretch to the retractable ceiling, which is partially open to let in a cool breeze and a view of the hazy city stars. Along industrial beams hang cubical planters, draped with ferns and vines and flowers, like they were trying to make a living ceiling.
There is no one seated on this side. I imagine on a busier night it would be bustling with couples, all crammed at the small wooden tables. Tonight this place is ours. Hayden directs me to a table near the balcony. I absorb the view of the twinkling city as I take my seat.
A thin, squirrely haired waiter approaches us. I fully expect Hayden to rattle off our order in some mysterious European language, but the waiter does not speak to us. He fills two frosty glasses with a very clear wine and then leaves the bottle tilted in a bucket of ice on the table. He warmly catches my eyes as he gives a slight bow and leaves us.
“Try the wine, it is my favorite.” Hayden leans back comfortably in the iron chair and takes a sip. I try it, delicately, not a big fan of the tart beverage. But this wine is smooth, pleasantly sweet, and slides across my tongue like some luscious dessert. I cannot speak for a few minutes as my mouth relishes the taste.
“It is very nice.” When I do speak, it has changed my voice a little. Made it a little more... succulent.
My handsome date just stares at me, like he is memorizing every nuance of my face... and my body. I take him in, especially the shapely muscles beneath his white shirt and blazer. What he had worn at Camp had been a touch more revealing, and even then I had not seen much skin. My mouth waters a little, and it is not from hunger.
“Hayden? Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“At the camp...”
I rub my lips together, trying to find the words.
“All those people... They were all so intent... on... me. Like you are right now.”
I cannot help how my voice quivers.
“I'm nothing special. I'm not beautiful. Just an ordinary woman, with a more ordinary life. I just want to know...”
Staring into his light brown eyes, I speak from the depths of my soul.
“Why me?”
Hayden leans forward and takes my hand. He holds it gently, but presses his fingers along my bones.
“We are all a little jaded.”
He pulls my hand up and lightly rubs his moist lips along the joints of my finger.
“What we enjoy most is breaking in a novice. To first show you our world. Your innocence...” Hayden traces the path between my fingers. “...is intoxicating.”
Someone clears their throat, and we both turn to the thin, black haired man standing a few feet from the table holding a tiered tray. Deftly the server places the tray between us.
It is magnificent. Upon each tier rests perfectly placed miniature gourmet creations, some upon zig zags of different colors of sauce. Each is a tiny masterpiece, with curls and frongs of carrot or herb for embellishments, layered with foods that were cooked or pressed or cut in colorful layers, half of which I cannot identify. They are each like the fancy dishes you see served in the movies, but small enough to be eaten with your fingers. And that may be exactly what the server intends we do with them, as he does not leave us any silverware.
Hayden slides him an envelope out of his coat pocket and the man farewells us with another bow. “Have a good evening.”
My date smiles at my intense interest in the food, his usual serious face brightened by the subtle creases along his flawless skin.
“Go ahead.” He ushers me toward this decadent feast.
I do not have the capacity to argue with him. Hating to disturb such perfection, I choose a roll from the bottom shelf, a golden crispy shell with tuffs of something orange and brown stuffed inside, along with sprigs of some herb. It is drizzled with a red-brown sauce and I cannot help but smear it on my fingers as I lift the small creation.
I bite half of it into my mouth. It is decedent, first a buttery crunch then a rich and salty chew. The sauce adds a nutty zing that gives the rest of the flavors a semi-sweet tone.
For a moment, I fear Hayden will not partake in this fine meal. But he reaches for the twin of the roll I chose and takes his time to savor it.
Each of the creations has a pair. It is a dinner made for two.
We both lick off our fingers, then take a drink of the wine. Hayden slides his chair closer.
“Try this one.”
He lifts a square-shaped cream dish wrapped with a soy colored sleeve and topped with a single herb. I open my mouth and lean forward to accept it, and he takes his time sliding it on my tongue. As I bite into it, I find the outer part is made with soy, and tiny nuts that give it a slight crunch. The creamy inside is a wonderful mix of squash, perhaps pumpkin and subtle spices. I rouse myself to feed Hayden the counterpart before I am lost in its taste.
Hayden accepts, drawing his chair closer. Placing it past his perfect teeth, I dip my finger on his tongue then trace the moist along his lips as he closes his mouth. He breathes deep, enjoying the taste as well as my touch.
His hand is on my knee. The look in his eye suggests I am in for more than just a delicious meal. He leans to me and then all I know is his lips pressed against mine in a passionate kiss. His head tilts to the side and his tongue licks between my lips, urging me to open them.
Check back for updates. Sex Camp Part II will be released soon (Once Hayden and Helen have their fun!)
