The very next weekend... Twice!

“Dibs!” I heard someone yell when I went through the door, and even though it was immediately followed by laughs, my pulse jumped.

This time, I didn’t have anyone to cling to. I drifted toward the bar to get a soda, and let myself be drawn into conversations. The older men didn’t leer the way boys did. They seemed like they admired me when they touched my arm lightly and made me laugh. Even when they leaned in closer, it didn’t come across as them crowding me. Their compliments felt genuine and left me smiling the rest of the night.

By midnight, I was laughing at the bar, with a circle of men paying attention to me like I was the flame they couldn’t resist. After the way my boyfriend continued to talk to me after he brought me here, he now felt like a distant blur, a relic of some smaller life. I realized then that this was where I came alive and now that I knew, there was no going back.

I didn’t touch anyone that first night, but with the tilt of my shoulders and the way I lingered on a smile, I let their eyes run over me. I let them buy me drinks, playing into their compliments and stares. By the time I walked out that night, even the bartender was teasing me. At home, I stripped down and stood in front of the mirror, still hearing my boyfriend’s voice telling me, You liked it way too much, and I hated how right he was. That first night I’d felt more alive in those three hours than in the whole last year with him. This time, I couldn’t even make it to sleep without sliding a hand between my thighs, recalling how so many people looked at me, until I finally came.

I told myself it was curiosity that pulled me back tonight. Curiosity, not hunger. But my hand shook when I gave my ID at the door again the next night, and when the bouncer smiled at me, I felt like I’d already betrayed myself.

“She’s back,” I heard from somewhere behind me, when I showed my ID and membership card to the person at the window. And just like that, my nerves gave to arousal. This time I’d dressed with intent. I was in a pure white dress that clung in all the right places, styled my hair, and made my lips shine with gloss. I wanted the attention, and the moment I stepped past the threshold, it came in abundance.

Conversations paused, as people I talked to last time saw me. Smiles came from all directions like I was gravity. When I got to the bar, the bartender greeted me like he’d been waiting for me to come back. “Glad you made it back again.” He sounded more amused than judgmental, like he knew what was happening even if I wasn’t ready to admit it to myself.

“I guess I’m curious,” I suggested, tucking hair behind my ear.

“Curiosity never lasts long in here,” he said, sliding me a soda without asking. “Seems to me you’re already becoming a regular.”

The words buzzed in me at his accusation. I drifted again, soaking in who was there. Men caught my eye, and instead of looking away, I let my smiles turn sultry. Then I let my movements catch the attention of others.

At one point, a man that looked to be in his forties leaned in close at the bar. His cologne was like an aphrodisiac, and he was wearing a crisp shirt. He was exactly the kind of guy my now ex-boyfriend would’ve mocked relentlessly. I’d broken up with him earlier that day, after he brought up the night we were here, yet again.

“You new?” the stranger asked.

“Kind of.”

He smiled, but he didn’t push me. “You’ll like it here, if you can learn to give in to the experience” he claimed.

I didn’t go into any rooms that night. I didn’t even let anyone touch me more than a hand at my elbow or the brush of a palm at my back as we squeezed past.

But instead of going straight home when I decided I was done flirting for the night, I slipped into one of the private rooms alone, my body still burning from every brush of contact. I gathered my dress around my waist and let my fingers wander over the bare skin between my panties and hips. With my thighs pressed tight together, I teased myself while listening to the muffled noise of laughter, music, and most importantly, the murmur of strangers’ voices over moans of their companions, on the other side of the door. The scent of colognes clung to me, and I let it drive me as I touched myself.

It built too fast to resist, causing me to bite down on my lip to keep quiet. The sounds blurred into a haze as my body tightened, shuddering hard while my orgasm rushed through me, leaving me trembling.

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