I’ve always been a writer. From the time I could first pick up a pencil and understand words, I was always creating stories of some kind. When I finally got my first computer, I took to typing like others take up the piano. It just became a natural flow. My parents and teachers all encouraged me, all of them thinking I had real talent. I always excelled in English and Literary classes and did well enough in my other subjects that it was no hard effort for me to get into Colombia on a scholarship.

While I was there, I had very little trouble acing all my literary classes and all my professors believed that I had really ability as a writer. It was during the summer after my freshman year that I started writing my first novel. It was kind of a teenager, coming of age piece. While now, I recognize that it wasn’t my best work; it was still good enough for one of my advisors to help me get it published. It sold pretty well and even landed me a place on the New York Times bestseller list. My parents framed the paper when the book peaked on the list.

After that, I developed a habit of writing short stories during the school year and writing a novel during the summer breaks. The short stories I sold as compilations and the novels I sold to my publisher. I really didn’t stick to any particular genre or thought, just writing what came to mind and what sounded interesting. As I got more schooling and started branching out in my writing, the reviews got better, and I found myself getting higher and higher on the best seller list. By my senior year, the literary faculty started seeing me more as a colleague then a student.

I graduated with Latin honors and was offered a junior professorship as a form of supplemental income for my writing. I considered it, but then I received an offer to write weekly columns for a New York magazine; any subject I wanted. I thought this was a more interesting challenge and if I ever needed to, I could always go back to teaching as a backup. I’d write out columns weeks in advance and then spend the rest of my time on books. By now, my name was known in literary circles and I started making serious money.

At the time of the following events, I’m 6 years out of college, 28 years old, and have security that few have at my age. I just purchased my first apartment in Manhattan and felt content. Maybe too content. I’d written everything from historical fiction, science fiction, even a mystery novel. The mystery novel got me very close to the top of the bestseller list. I started feeling the need to get more creative and started trying to write out of my comfort zone.

I had lunch with my agent Laurie to discuss it. She had been my agent since college, and we had great rapport and trust with each other. She was in her 40’s but could’ve easily passed for 10 years younger. Having two kids seemed to have done nothing to harm her slim figure. We went through the things I’d already written and to her credit she’d never tried to get me to repeat myself if I didn’t want to.

“Well Jim, you’ve already checked a lot of boxes with your other works. Other than romance, I’m not sure what’s left.”

That was it! It had never even crossed my mind to do a romance or erotic novel. Pure eureka moment!

“Are you sure about this, Jim?” she said in almost a matronly tone. “You aren’t exactly the biggest dater.”

It was true. I didn’t date much. Oh, I had girlfriends over the years, but most of them were vapid and non-intellectual types and didn’t last too long. I told her that I needed some time to think on the project.

Every Friday night, a group of writers got together for drinks and conversations at a literary club in Greenwich Village. Some were people I’d met in college or on book tours and others were just other writers from the area. We all used it as a sounding board for new ideas and projects, but also to just talk with like-minded individuals. I figured it would be a good place to gather thoughts and ideas.

I got there and procured my traditional old fashioned and went over to our usual area. Some of the group was already there and I settled in. During discussions about e-books, publishing fees, and if New York was still a literary capital, I threw out my idea. This was a co-ed group so there were plenty of women writers there as well. They seemed intrigued by it, while some of the male writers were less enthusiastic.

“I don’t know, man,” my friend Devon opined. “Most of what you’ve written has either been mostly for men or unisex. Romance is almost strictly a female audience.” The women in the group jumped on Devon saying that I could absolutely pull this off. Now that the subject was on Romance, they started probing me out about it.

“What are you thinking topic-wise, Jim,” Breanna asked. Breanna was one of the “elders” of our group in her late 50’s and was one of the most awarded.

“I really don’t know yet,” I admitted. “I just had the idea a few days ago. Right now I’m just searching for a hook.”

“Are you thinking straight romance,” Alicia asked, “or more a “Fifty Shades” thing?” Alicia was always an instigator. Close to me in age, she was a curvy girl, but by no means fat. I’d thought of asking her out a few times but thought that it might hurt the group dynamic. I just rolled my eyes at her.

“I don’t know that S&M is really my style,” I said glibly, taking a sip from my drink.

“Well, isn’t that the point? To get out of your comfort zone?”

I shrugged a bit at her, acknowledging her point.

“True, but I still don’t think whips and chains are really my thing,” I said with a chuckle. Alicia just shrugged and smiled.

“Well, like anything in life,” Breanna said in her normal stoic manner, “observe the first rule of writing. Write what you know.”

I pondered that as I leaned back into my drink.

I spent the next few days really thinking it over. I did what I normally did, started with a few basic ideas for writing and see how far they develop. After a week, nothing was taking root. I tried pirate stories, meet-cutes, war romances; but nothing worked. I wouldn’t call it writers block, but I just wasn’t getting the ideas to fully reach cohesion. I was stuck.

I was sitting at my desk, trying to think of anything that made more sense to me. I’m smart enough to not have blank paper or blank documents open around me, that’s the last thing that a writer needs to see, instead opting for the crossword puzzle. I was about to give up for the day when my phone rang.

Alicia.

“Hey, how are you?” I said answering the call.

“Ok, my editor is up my ass as per usual.” Alicia was mostly a sportswriter, a columnist at a New York paper, but she also wrote books on sports and biographies as well. Her last book didn’t sell as well as her other’s and her editors were pushing for new material.

“That sucks,” I said trying to be compassionate about it. My book sales were almost always steady, and my column editor hardly ever got on me about anything.

“Whatever,” she said in a way that made me think she was rolling her eyes. “So, how’s the Romance business going?”

I took a deep, exasperated breath when she asked that so as to clearly indicate its current direction.

“It isn’t really. Haven’t gotten anything to come together yet.”

“Did you try the whips and chains?” she said half-jokingly.

“Almost, and it didn’t really work either.” It involved a dungeon and kidnapping.

“Well, I had an idea for you and wanted to float it. Wanna meet for lunch tomorrow?”

I agreed and set a time and place. The next day, I was still no closer to any real inspiration then I had been. We met at a local place that I’d been to before. I got there first and got an outside table since it was a nice day. Alicia came soon after. I noticed that she was wearing a sundress that showed off her curves more than the usual sweater and jeans I was used to seeing her in. She certainly was showing more of her cleavage than usual. I did my best to look at her face as we greeted each other. We ordered drinks and she leaned forward.

“So, still stuck?” She was always quick to the point.

“Yep,” I admitted freely, twisting my water glass. “Maybe I bit off more than I can chew with this one.” Quite frankly, I’d never encountered this before. I was always able to overcome stuff like this in the past, but this was a real puzzle.

“Don’t give up yet,” she said with encouragement as our order arrived, “I may have a new angle for you.”

“I’m all ears,” I said hoping for a little inspiration.

“What are your thoughts on orgy clubs?”

I damn near spit out my drink hearing this. She giggled at me as I got my act together.

“Ok, weird segue, but seriously, thoughts?” she asked again

I was racing through my mind trying to think of an answer and none was coming.

“I really don’t have any thoughts on them,” I said honestly. “I always thought that stuff was mostly a myth or something you see in porn.”

“Oh, they exist,” she said with a certainty that raised an eyebrow. “Your magazine did a thing on one a year ago.”

I shrugged since I really didn’t read magazines, not even the one I worked for. I started to try and think about it then and found it hard to wrap my head around.

“I mean,” trying to regain some semblance of composure, “I really know nothing about that world. What kind of hook are you thinking?”

“Boy meets girl at a “club” and live happily ever after deal.”

My mind was still reeling, but it also was thinking. It was definitely a fresh approach. Could lead somewhere, but I really wasn’t sure.

“It’s interesting, but I’d need to talk to some people in that world to get any kind of sense of it. How would I even do that?” She then leaned forward and pushed her cleavage forward a bit.

“What do you want to know?” she said with a wink. I choked on my drink and started coughing. The waitress brought over some water for me to recover. Alicia was just smiling and giggling the whole time finding the situation hilarious. I got my wits back and looked at her.

“You…you,” I struggled to get out, “you belong…?”

“Uh huh,” she said simply like she was just telling me that she walked her dog this morning. She then put a finger to her lips, as to indicate ‘hush hush’.

“Jesus,” I said with my head spinning. I got a handle on myself as much as I could. I really didn’t know which was the most surprising part of this, that she belonged to an orgy club or that she was so blasé about it.

“Surprised you, huh?” she said still chuckling a bit.

“I’d have to say that is a gross understatement.” She just shrugged her shoulders and settled back down in her chair. I really didn’t know how to approach this or her.

“Relax, Jim,” she said in an assuring way, “I wouldn’t’ve told you if I wasn’t ok with you knowing and I knew you’d be discreet about it.”

I used my hands to indicate that she had nothing to fear about that. At least now I knew why she wanted to meet privately and didn’t talk about this in the group. She just smiled as I gathered myself still.

“Ok…. ok” I said trying to get my bearings. “So you want me to write about your experiences?” I asked trying to fish all this out.

“No,” she said, “I just thought it might be a good angle for you. I can certainly help you with the background you’d need.” I was getting my composure as I was trying to reset my mind as much as possible.

“Ok,” I said again like I was a character on The West Wing, “so how long…?”

“A few years,” she said flippantly. “I’ve been so busy and sometimes I just need to get boned.” I didn’t choke this time, but it was close.

“So,” I started like I was really doing research, “how did you get into this?”

“A friend of mine nominated me for the club after I talked to her for a bit,” she explained. “I was curious, and they eventually approved me after I sent in health screenings and a questionnaire. Then they invited me to my first party. The rest is history.”

“So you just go and have sex with random guys,” I asked in as low a voice as possible.

“Well they were random at the beginning, but by now; I know pretty much everybody there.”

“How many people are in the club?”

“About 200 now,” she said guessing off the top of her head. “About 60/40 split with women and men.”

“Why is that?” I asked figuring the numbers would be 50/50.

“Cause girls have more holes are more down for shit than dudes normally.” Once she said it, it made sense.

“How important is anonymity?” I asked, now seriously considering her hook. The food arrived at this point and she waited for the waitress to leave.

“It’s up there in the rules,” she explained having a bite of her salad. “Along with consent for anything that goes on there and respect for everyone’s preferences and comfort level.”

Without even thinking, I’d gotten out my notebook and was scribbling down thoughts and ideas I was now getting. But then I paused.

“Well, wait,” I asked confused, “if anonymity is so important, why are you telling me?” She just smiled.

“Funny you should mention,” she said as she got something out of her bag and put it on the table, “I nominated you.”

“You what?!” I said louder then I should’ve, and a few people looked around at me. Alicia just smiled.

“Yeah,” she said matter of factly, “it’ll help with your research and quite frankly, it couldn’t hurt for you to get laid. I mean honestly, when was the last time you put your thing down?”

I honestly had to admit it’d been a while, but I’d never considered something like this.

“Shouldn’t you have asked me first?”

“You still have to do the questionnaire and the checkup. You can always turn it down. I just thought I’d put the option on the table for you. Your approval is preliminary until you do that.” She pushed the papers from her purse in front of me clearly indicating that’s what they were. “There’s a party next week,” she explained. “If you get this stuff back to me soon, you’re in.”

My head was really spinning now, and she was damn well aware of it.

“Look, Jim,” she said taking my hand in hers, “I know I threw a lot at you all at once. Think about it, give me back the questionnaire if you want, and call the number for the appointment. It’s up to you.”

We talked more after that, but I can’t remember what about. I sat with what she said and thought about it. Thought a lot. Should I do this just for the book? Am I that desperate? Is there something else driving this? I really had no idea. But I came to the conclusion that I wouldn’t find the answers sitting idle. I called the number on the physician sheet and filled out Alicia’s questionnaire, figuring that at least would keep my options open.

It was a pretty standard document really. History, employment, interests, hobbies, etc. It also asked about sexual history, fantasies, intimacy issues, porn habits. I rolled my eyes more than a couple of times but tried to answer as honestly as I could.

I called for the medical appointment and sent Alicia the papers, with no explanation attached. She didn’t respond either. I received a full check-up at which I was told I was in good shape. I tried to put it out of my mind while I started to formulate new stories. A few days later, I had my answer.

“You’re approved!!!” Alicia texted me. “The party is Saturday at 9!! Meet me at my place and we’ll go together!” I really didn’t know how to feel. While I was grateful for guide, I was in very unsure territory. But I had to say, my writing was back on track. I was using the ideas surrounding the club to get a start at least.

The meeting with the rest of our friends that Friday, I stayed silent. Some asked me about the new project, but I kept quiet and just exchanged glances with Alicia. She just winked at me while I soldiered through the awkwardness.

That Saturday, I was nervous as hell. I barely ate and didn’t sleep that well, even though Alicia told me to do both. I kept trying to steel myself and say that I was just a writer and I was just doing research. Gay Talese style. I dressed nice as directed and went over to Alicia’s, not exactly hustling to get there.

When I arrived at her place, she met me outside her building, and I was surprised. I expected her to be dressed slutty and trashy, but she was dressed conservatively and smart. Alicia looked me up and down and approved of my attire. She took me by the hand as we went over to the secret party location.

“Don’t worry,” she said reassuringly, “I’ll be with you the whole time, all night.” She squeezed my arm in support as we went down the street. To anyone else, we just seemed like 2 normal people moving down the busy Manhattan street, but in my mind, I swore that all eyes were on us and were judging us. We got to what looked like abandoned loft space and she stopped.

“Ok, we’re here,” she said trying to gird me up, “just remember, you have nothing to prove to anyone and I’m with you through all of it. Ok?”

I can’t tell you how reassuring it was to hear, but I nodded as she knocked on the door. I felt a feeling that I didn’t think I would with all of this, that it was going to be ok.

“Yes?” I heard from the other side of the door. Alicia flashed a card at the camera near the door.

“And him?” came the voice from the door.

“Love,” was all Alicia said. The door then immediately opened, and I saw a middle-aged man standing in front of me.

“Jim?” he asked looking at me. I nodded. He asked to see ID and I gave him my driver’s license, Alicia telling me to bring it beforehand. He looked it and me over like he was a bouncer outside a bar. He then smiled.

“Thank you,” he said giving me the card back and ushering us both inside. “I’m Phillip,” he said extending his hand to me. I took it and he gave Alicia a peck on the cheek. “Welcome to Haven!” Alicia leaned over and whispered in my ear, “name of the club.” I nodded in understanding.

“Al, I’m guessing as his patron you’ll be his guide tonight?” Alicia nodded her head. “Jim, Al will guide you through everything if you have any questions about anything. For now, why don’t you head over to the bar and have a cocktail?” He extended his hand again which I shook, and Alicia escorted me away.

“Phillip is security to make sure nothing gets out of control and no unknowns get in.”

“Love?” I asked inquisitively about the front door.

“Tennis term for 0,” she said as I looked at her with a ‘really?’ vibe. “Code for a newbie. It means it’s your first party.”

I nodded as we made our way to the bar. I saw various people strewn about greeting Alicia as we proceeded, but also eyeing me it seemed. The people were all dressed elegantly, virtually every age & ethnic background seemingly accounted for. We got to the bar and the tender, dressed in lingerie, came right over. I was about to order my usual Scotch when Alicia ordered me a Scotch and Water instead. I looked at her curiously.

“You want to have some watered-down drinks as this goes on,” she explained. “You might tense up later and need more booze. They frown on people stumbling around drunk. Leads to too many problems.” I’ve always been pretty good at holding my liquor, but I deferred to her knowledge and experience. We toasted our drinks lightly as I took a healthy sip.

“You must be the love,” a woman said coming over to me. She was drop dead gorgeous in her mid-30’s with a tight, athletic body and sparkling eyes.

“I guess so,” I said in an unsure manner, extending my hand. She instead gave me a kiss on the lips. Her tongue darted into my mouth like an arrow. She released me and greeted Alicia with a wave.

“I’m Laurie,” she said in further greeting. I introduced myself as she started asking me some questions.

“Excited for your first time?” she asked.

“Anxious I think would be more accurate,” I freely admitted. She just smiled & nodded in return.