Host Club Novels & Stories

The last thing I remember is him saying that he loved me before I completely dozed off. This is one of the most crazy-ass parties I have seen at the clubhouse, and that is something because, trust me, when I have seen them partying like animals. The entire road in front of the clubhouse is blocked and has turned into a live dancing club with music blaring from the speakers so loud that even the deaf can hear it. People, even from nearby towns, have come to the cub to party because free booze and women are something that these pigs can't say no to. I am glad that my sons are not old enough to understand what is going on because this party is definitely not kids friendly at all.

Jo’s POV It was already 10:00 pm when we reached to the club. It was one of those new and deluxe night clubs, where you can get in only if you have an invitation or if you wait on line for good couple of hours. Thank Goodness, Andrea, my high school friend is working in the Business so we don’t have to worry about anything. It is one of those upscale clubs with a trendy modern design and huge dance floor. The music is laud but nobody seemed to care, everyone is dancing and by the look on their faces, they all are having a good time.

I didn't need to ask to know what that was, and it startled me to realize how far she'd taken this. Lisa, who had always seemed so composed and proper, had hidden this wild side from me. If it hadn't been for our late-night heart-to-hearts after my breakup, I might never have known. Before long, we reached the "club spot" Lisa had mentioned earlier. It was a wide, flat area with two large tents set up, and to my surprise, there was even a small mountain hot spring nearby. As soon as we arrived, four men came out to greet us.

There were in a ton of cliques in the small Pelican Bay High School where we attended, but that didn't stop his sister from being a friend to everyone. The world is lacking one hell of an amazing woman with her loss. Everyone is still picking up their pieces. But there's no time to spend being upset over things I can't control. I have a club to make sure doesn't implode tonight and a big hunky Marine to keep watch over at the same time. It isn't until we're walking up the tall staircase of the club that it hits me. Huxley is not going to like what he sees on the dance floor tonight. The Loft is not a country western bar with line dancing or a Christian rock venue. Most nights it gets rowdy.

“Golden Retriever energy.” “Hey, Logan,” Lee says, loudly now, “Does the club belong to all of you?” Logan slides open some giant steel and wood stable-type doors. An open-air level, with more exposed beams, strings of industrial bulbs, and a fire pit encircled by wine-red couches. I’m starting to realize that the color scheme subtly represents a vintage American flag. Patriotic. “Enrique and I started the club together,” he answers, “But everyone helps out … and now Jackson is constructing a fight club underneath.” He points to the left, where heaps of sand and building material clutter the area.

I frowned, pulling my hand back. "First time at Explicit Club?" he asked, his smile widening. "Is that the name of this place?" I asked, dismayed. "It is. And that's why you see people making out, fucking, and doing whatever they please. In this club, people are free to act on any urge they have." "That's bullshit, don't you think?" I hissed. "Totally," he chuckled. "Can I get you a drink?" he offered. "Yes... but no alcohol," I insisted.

Adam made a point of scarfing down his meal as quickly as possible. That way, they could head straight to Ivo Morales' private club, which had a pretty suggestive name, by the way: "Lust." After all, that's exactly what you'd find there: every kind of sex and pleasure anyone could ever want to try. The club ran 24 hours a day, seven days a week—no breaks, no closing time. It was only for VIP clients: important men and women with loads of money and high social status.

CHAPTER ONE I was to be the entertainment for this evening. I knew this. I had freely agreed to it. After all, my sex life had hit a very long dry spell. When Clara, one of my girlfriends, had mentioned this club that she belonged to – a "kinky sex club" was her description – it sounded like just what I needed. "The men and women there are reasonably attractive," Clara assured me. "Although none of them are supermodels, they are certainly focused on sex and having a good time. Aimie, I really think you would find it fun, too."

I paused then added; "At eighteen." Mark gave me a dirty look. "It wasn't my fault I was just you know..." "Shy, I know all about it. Now go ahead and tell me the story." I smiled at him. "Tell it like you were telling one of your dirty stories for your little friends." Mark belonged to a "Club" as he called it where all the members' men and women alike were gorgeous, professional, well off, and sexually dominant. They met once a month, had dinner then sat around swapping dirty stories about their latest conquests. The club was secret and according to Mark had been around for generations.

Marcy: And we're not so much into finding other naked people, we just abhor being clothed. Me: You mentioned landed clubs? What's that? Harold: Land? Property? Real-estate? Marcy: It's a club with property. Usually have a pool, hot-tub, a clubhouse, barbecues, and events for crowds. You pay a membership, and most everybody is naked. It's like a private naturist resort. Harold: That's what I said, isn't it? Property?