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“This wig is itchy,” I scratch my scalp.
“Why did you wear it then?”
“Because I don’t want to run into one of my patients. I’m in disguise.”
“Oh phooey, you look like Natasha with a long blonde wig on.”
I nod as I sip my margarita, “Yeah I know. Mmm this is good, it’s super icy. Do you see him?” We all look around.
“No, it’s pretty empty actually.” We all relax.
A cute blond bartender comes over. “Can I get you beautiful ladies anything to drink?”
“Sure, three more margaritas thanks.” He smiles and nods. “What’s upstairs?” I ask as if interested.
“Just more booths with views to the stage.” We all nod, trying our best to look cool and uncaring. “Is anyone up there?” I ask. He smiles and shakes his head—he is so onto us. “No one yet,” he gives me a wink. We all nod, a little more than relieved. At the end of the bar there is a second set of stairs and there is a large red velvet rope across the bottom of the stairwell.
“What’s up there?” I ask.
“That’s the VIP room for private parties.”
Abbie frowns, “Private parties?”
He nods and smiles. “Yes only one group at a time.”
“What goes on up there?” Bridget asks.
He shakes his head and smiles. “You don’t want to know.” We are all shocked to silence.
“Is anyone up there now?” Abbie asks.
“No, it costs $5000.00 just to get up there.” We all look at each other.
“Do people really pay that?” I question.
“You would be surprised. It’s used every night.”
“What do you get for five grand?” Bridget asks.
He smiles as he walks off. “Anything you want, pretty much. But mostly sex and cocaine.”
“Wow,” I mouth to the girls, and they nod in agreement. “Shit, anything you want.” I chew my ice. “This place is a high–class brothel.” Oh shit, a disturbing thought enters my brain. Panic sets in.
“Bridget, what are you going to do if
we do see him here? Please don’t cause a scene.” I’m beginning to regret this decision to come here. It could get embarrassing.
“I’m not giving him the satisfaction,” she sneers. “I am just going to watch him and then dump him tomorrow and tell him I’m sleeping with someone with a massive dick who rocks in the sack.” We all laugh. Good plan, I like it. The music starts, and the song ‘Bad to the Bone’ blares through the sound system, and we all smile. Of course this song is playing, so typical strip joint. A beautiful blonde saunters down the catwalk. She looks like she just stepped off a Sports Illustrated cover shoot, all muscly and oiled up, although the fake tan is to the extreme. She oozes confidence. She intimidates the three of us as we all sit in silence, entranced like she is dancing just for us. As she gets to the end of the runway she slams into the side splits. Shit, she’s flexible too. She comes straight up into a bend back to handstand up. Yep, she’s good alright. She slowly but surely commands everyone’s attention in the room, including ours. We watch, riveted, as she slowly peels every piece of clothing from her hot body. She’s a dancer obviously, and I have to say she is blowing the preconceived idea of what a stripper looks like out the window.
“Fuck, she’s hot,” Abbie whispers. I nod, unable to take my eyes off her and Bridge answers, “I know, right.” She doesn’t look easy—she looks alluring, sexy. She takes off her bra to expose the best set of fake tits I have ever seen. We all sit mesmerised, mouths open.
“That’s it,” Bridget whispers. “Decision made, I’m getting my boobs done.”
We all nod. “Good idea,” notes Abbie. She slowly turns around to turn her back to the audience and bends over without bending her knees and slides her G–String down her legs to reveal her beautifully pink vagina and anus, not a hair in sight.
“Holy crap,” Abbie whispers. “I think I’m in love.” The whole club including us are collectively holding their breath, and as she slowly starts to touch her breasts with both her hands we all lean in towards the stage.
“Fuck, this is hot,” Bridget whispers. I nod, still too entranced to speak. She lays on her back with her legs spread to the audience and starts to finger–fuck herself in time with the music, groaning and writhing on the floor. We all look at each other wide–eyed, and a little shocked to be honest. I don’t know what we were expecting but it wasn’t intimately watching an attractive woman bring herself to orgasm. She slowly brings her fingers to her lips and starts to suck them in her mouth. The audience makes a collective groan, shit. We are so out of our depth here. She rolls to her knees and puts her rear to the audience still going hell for leather with her fingers. We all sit shocked, silent and wide–eyed as she brings herself to a screaming orgasm. Moment pass and she sits up onto her knees and sucks her fingers dry. The crowd goes wild with everyone rising to a standing ovation, including us. She stands and bows, the room is a buzz. The atmosphere is suddenly pumped full of testosterone and pheromones. We clink our glasses together and giggle.
