In His Place

By Lyka Bloom

On the prowl for a new sexual conquest, Denny meets the gorgeous Kelly and the alluring Lauren. As his obsession with Lauren grows, his body and mind warp into Lauren's perfect bimbo!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lyka Bloom
• Release date: Mar 7, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311858795

Lyka Bloom

Lyka Bloom writes various forms of fiction, but erotica has become a new passion. She preferstransformations and games of control, and enjoys exploring all the perverse kinks bubbling beneath the surface of sexuality.

Book preview

In His Place

by Lyka Bloom

IN HIS PLACE

First Edition. March 6, 2014 at Smashwords.

Copyright © 2014 Lyka Bloom

Written by Lyka Bloom

www.LykaBloom.com

The Five Point was hopping for a Wednesday, the deep bass sending sound waves through the bodies of forty men and women dancing on the club floor. Around the dance floor, two bars stood on either side, accessible by climbing a single step to separate the bars from the dance area. Colored lights flashed intermittently on the moving bodies in the center of the room, sweat and alcohol swirling to create a unique scent of exertion and aphrodisiac.

From the right-side bar, Denny Masters leaned back, elbows on the bar, looking down at the small crowd. He'd spotted the redhead as soon as she came in with the short brunette, a plump little sidekick for a statuesque beauty. Denny knew the play immediately.

You going in?

Denny shook his head, nodding at the redhead's sidekick staggering away from the dance floor, an unflattering patch of dark sweat on her back where the blue cloth dress she wore had collected the dampness that no doubt covered every inch of her.

The friend, Denny said to Kevin, who was more than a little drunk. Always the friend.

Kevin nodded, but Denny guessed he was past comprehension. Kevin lived for these nights out, if only to give him an excuse to drink in public instead of holed up in his smoke-filled apartment. He made for a lousy wingman in these situations, but Denny had known Kevin since middle school, and there's a comfort in friendships that have withstood the test of time, even if the durability of the relationship is born more of familiarity than real understanding.

Denny pitied Kevin, and not just for his predisposition toward drinking. That was a problem that stood to get the better of Kevin if he wasn't careful. No, the more immediate pity came from Kevin's lack of sport. Here they were, two single men in the midst of a bevy of women, all of whom, Denny firmly believed, were available to them. Denny imagined it much like a heist. Every one of these women had a lock protecting themselves, a sort of metaphorical chastity belt that prevented Denny from accessing their bodies. All he had to do was to pick that lock.

To make the game more thrilling, no two locks were the same. Some women were more than willing to open their legs for him because he was fairly handsome. Nothing movie idol quality, he would acknowledge that, but square-jawed and masculine, almost six feet in height, an athletic build only slightly compromised by bad diet and too much booze in the clubs. His hair was dark, and he left a little scruff on his cheeks and chin to suggest a stylish casualness. Enough sense of fashion in his wardrobe allowed him to suggest both college student and professional to his intended target, depending on the nature of their locks.

Some were practically caged by morality or a sense of decency or morality... These were all excuses, as far as he was concerned, and not very good ones. Denny knew one thing very well - to cum felt good. Amazing, really. The single greatest experience in Denny's life was to find himself buried in the sweet, wet canal of some strange girl, a woman he could share the moment of explicit bliss with and send on her way, mutually satisfied. He had no urge to hurt a woman, but neither did he find himself enticed by the idea of commitment. In popular parlance, he would have been the male equivalent of a slut, but that was reductive. He simply enjoyed giving and receiving pleasure without the need for emotion to get involved.

Not that emotions weren't useful. Sometimes, the only way to get past a woman's initial defenses was to engage them emotionally, to find the crack in their defenses based on some past scar or future hope. A cynical observer might call his methods manipulative, but, for Denny, it was simply the solution to a puzzle.

I'll be back, he said to Kevin, who had ordered another double bourbon neat. He hoped Kevin would be able to find a way home. If all went well, Denny would be between the sheets with the chesty redhead on the dance floor before the night was through.

Denny skirted the boundaries of the crowd on the dance floor, careful to place himself in the redhead's eyeline. If he was lucky, she'd see him and take note. If not, it only meant a little more work from the girl's squat friend.

He found her at