Mea goes off and Max tries to look

The balmy evening air caresses her bare legs as she strides toward the pulsing neon lights of the nightclub, the bass thrumming through the boardwalk beneath her feet. Every step makes her hyperaware of her nakedness under the flimsy sundress, especially when a passing couple does a double take at the way the fabric clings to her breasts. *Max will follow,* she tells herself, biting her lip as she climbs the stairs where two bouncers ogle her chest before waving her inside.

Inside, the club is a throbbing mass of bodies—glittering torsos slick with sweat press against each other under strobing lights while bartenders pour glowing cocktails. Mea's nipples harden instantly under the AC's chill, her sundress riding up as she slides onto a vinyl stool at the main bar. The bartender—a woman with snakebite piercings—grins at her obvious lack of underwear before sliding a napkin and pen across the counter. "Special for green bracelets tonight," she purrs, nodding toward a handwritten list of erotic dares taped to the mirror.

Her fingers tremble slightly as she scans the list: 1. Give a stranger a lap dances 2. Let two men finger you simultaneously 3. Get spitroasted by two strangers on the bar for everyone to watch - when a deep chuckle sounds behind her. "Need a partner for number seven?" The voice is rich with age, and she turns to find a silver-haired man in his fifties leaning against the bar, his tailored linen shirt rolled to reveal corded forearms. His gaze lingers on her exposed thighs where the sundress has ridden up. "Or perhaps number twelve... unless hubby objects?" His thumb brushes her green bracelet meaningfully.

The older man's cologne, sandalwood and expensive whiskey, wraps around her as he steps closer, his knuckles grazing the small of her back where her dress dips low. "Alex," he murmurs, plucking the pen from her slack fingers to circle *Blowjob under the table* on her napkin. His wedding band glints under the blacklights as he slides onto the stool beside her, spreading his thighs just enough for her to see the thick outline in his slacks. "Shall we see if you live up to that bracelet, darling?"

Mea's pulse thrums in her throat as Alex's thumb traces the rim of her cocktail glass, his other hand settling possessively on her bare knee. The dare burns like live wire in her belly, especially when she spots Max lingering near the club's entrance, his jaw clenched as he watches them. "Only if you promise not to be gentle," she hears herself say, sliding off the stool to kneel between Alex's legs, the bass vibrating through her bones as she reaches for his belt.