What the fuck?!
I dropped the bag under the table and squinted at the scene that was playing below me on the dance floor. One of the half-naked men was giving a woman one hell of a lap dance and it looked like she was enjoying it a little too much. She was grabbing onto his back and panting, crying out like he was actually—
OH.MY. GOD!
I stood up. “I can’t be here, Helen! What the fuck is this place?”
“Club Sin. Did you not hear the man say that when we got here? Just relax, Claire. Every person in this place knows you’re about to be Mrs. Statham and that you’re off limits. Your lap-dance will be a lot tamer.”
“I don’t want a lap-dance.”
She rolled her eyes as our drinks were placed on the table.
“Ladies and gentlemen.” A deep voice came over the speakers—drowning out the high frenzied techno music. “The dance floor will shut down in two hours for our scheduled ‘All Eyes’ performance. Please take advantage of it before we close off that section.”
“Okay wait!” Kim slid all four cum shots towards me. “I think you need to toss back all of these for yourself. We need you good and drunk way before the show starts.”
“What type of show is it?”
“It’s a scene show. They show off different sex positions and I really need some new ones to add to my sex bucket list.”
“Your fuck-et list.” Bobbie Jo corrected. “Toss back the drinks so we can dance, Claire. Now.”
I sighed and tossed back the first one to loud cheers, wincing at how bitter it was.
“Two! Three! Four!” They clapped and thrust another drink into my hand as soon as I finished the last cum shot.
I took a few sips and before I knew it, I was being pulled onto the dance floor.
The room was spinning and everything was blurring together—so much so that I wasn’t sure if what my eyes were showing me was true: A half-naked police officer was rubbing against me, swaying my hips to the beat as I struggled to keep my balance. Helen was grinding against two men at the same time, and Bobbie Jo and Kim were sandwiching another Greek god, rubbing him all over.
Out the corner of my eye I saw people lining up at a different type of bar. There were no alcohol bottles or glasses hanging behind its walclass="underline" There were chains, ropes, whips, and lots of metal things I didn’t recognize.
I watched a couple buy a long silver chain, and raised my eyebrow as they were led out of the room and through the smoke by a bouncer—to somewhere I was sure I didn’t want to know about.
Dizzy and confused, I slowly freed myself from the stranger’s sweaty embrace and headed back to our section in VIP. I looked at my phone and realized I had a text. Jonathan: “Your new makeover is so fucking sexy. Can’t wait to see it in person. Call me as soon as you get back to your room.”
I was too dazed and disoriented to even think about talking to him tonight. I didn’t want to slip up and tell him anything about this club. Ever.
“Are you alright, Claire?” Kim put her hand on my forehead. “I saw you dancing with that cop. I’m proud of you! You’re learning!” She sat down and handed me a bottle of water.
“Helen wasn’t lying to me, right? This really is the last club?”
“Yeah...It may be just you and I walking back though.” She pointed to the corner where Bobbie Jo currently had her hand down a fireman’s briefs and Helen was grinding against a different set of men.
I shook my head and took slow sips of water, savoring every cold drop. Just as I was finally cooling down, a butt-naked sheriff took the bottle out of my hand and positioned himself over my lap.
“Oh my god—no...NO....NO...” I slurred. “Why is your dick out?! I don’t...I don’t want—Could you at least put your briefs on?!”
“Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Your friends told me to be extra gentle.”
“What?!” I shut my eyes as he “danced” against me. He was grunting and using my shoulders to brace himself, saying, “I bet your fiancée doesn’t give it to you like this.”
When I finally opened my eyes again, he was gone and everyone was back in the VIP booth. The lights in the club were dimming, and the words “scene show” were flashing in white lights across the stage.
“I think I’ve had enough for one night.” I stood up. “This has been really fun, but I think I should head back.”
Helen pulled me back down. “Sit still, Claire. We have four more hours left and we’re using every last second! Besides, the DJ just announced that the dance troupe is going to twerk before the show even starts.”
“Twerk? Do I even want to know what that means?”
Bobbie Jo stood up and bent over slightly, placing her ass in my face. Then she braced the floor with her hands and proceeded to bounce her ass up and down, moving closer and closer to me.
“Smack itttt...” She danced a few more seconds before laughing and standing upright. “Now, imagine men doing that with hard dicks and tight briefs and ahhhh...Heaven...”
“Sounds thrilling.” I rolled my eyes and poured myself a large glass of vodka. No orange juice.
I tossed it back and clenched my jaw as the burning sensations rolled down my throat. As I was pouring myself another one, a group of men took the stage in black briefs—briefs that perfectly highlighted their huge dicks, and they began to dance to a loud techno beat.
They were in sync with one another, bending over just like Bobbie Jo had done. But instead of shaking their asses, they were shaking their dicks—making them touch the floor with every lowered move.
They rubbed their hands all over their sweaty and chiseled chests, winking at the various women in the crowd. And then one by one they began to “twerk” solo, and slowly removed their briefs.
“Oh. My. God...” We all said in unison.
I was sure my mouth was hanging wide open at the sheer perfection of their bodies—at the delectable sweat, at the hugeness, at the—
I shook those thoughts away and tapped Helen’s shoulder. “Do we really need to stay for the sex show?”
“Of course we do, we’re—Oh, god!” She looked at her watch. “You haven’t gotten your massage yet. You need to get it before the parlor closes. That was included in the package.” She waved over to the bar.
“A massage? Seriously, Helen? Are you not aware what the phrase ‘I’m-getting-married’ means? It means that I can’t act like you. And who the hell picked this club?”
“Do you hear something, Bobbie Jo?” She ignored me. “How about you, Kim? I could’ve sworn we all discussed someone letting herself go before we stepped through that door tonight.”
Bobbie Jo shook her head. “Nope, I don’t hear anything. But do you see that man at the edge of the stage?” She licked her lips. “God, I would love to lick his nipple piercing...and his chest...and his...everything.”
Kim and Helen shot her blank stares.
“Anyway...” I sighed. “Jonathan wouldn’t like me being touched by another man—especially not a half-naked one—professional massage or not...”
“Claire...” Helen rolled her eyes. “I would never, ever suggest anything that would make your crazy, jealous, and overbearing fiancée upset with you. All you’ve done tonight is dance, drink to excess, and experience the lamest lap-dance in the world.”
“He was naked.”
“He barely touched you. And you know something else?”
“Good evening, ladies.” A perfectly sun tanned god stepped into our booth. “Who’s getting the massage tonight?”
I couldn’t find any words to say. He was utter perfection—even more attractive than the men we’d seen on stage.