You're holding it together

With effort, you pulled the vibrator out of your pants, straightening your shoulders. You could do this. "I'm okay, Aimee. Really. It's just been a lot of new things, you know? And I've been... really horny lately." It was the understatement of the year.

She kept her hand on your leg and kissed you again, then gestured beyond the car. A neon sign proclaimed "Queen of Hearts" over the door of a nondescript building. Aimee had parked toward the back, but you could see a lot of other cars filling the crowded lot.

You struggled to drown out the voice in your head that wanted you to put that wonderful vibrator back between your legs. You were here! Aimee was looking at you expectantly.

"Right! Thanks for the ride, Aimee. I guess we go in and look for this 'Caramel,' right? That desk had to belong to Greg's dad... Maybe we should have brought Greg."

You suddenly realized that you were 'investigating' a possible... What? Human trafficking ring? Human testing? *Something,* anyway, on a whim. What if this was dangerous? Greg was a police officer. This was kind of *his* job.

Aimee poked your shoulder, "Stefi, you're being so serious about all this! Let's just go see if this "Caramel" person is in there. If she is, we can figure out what the papers are about. Plus, we can get some drinks and have a good time!"

*Drinks sound fun,* the unhelpful voice chimed in, *have you ever even HAD a drunk orgasm?*

"No drinks, Aimee." If you got drunk at a strip club after cheating on Greg, you'd die of shame. On the other hand... No. "No drinks, not today."

Aimee pouted, but didn't object. "Alright, fine."

Before you got out of the car, you took a look at the bag you'd grabbed at home and changed in the back seat. Aimee snuck a few glances as you changed, which sent you both into nervous giggles. A few minutes later the two of you got out of the car and approached the club, and you took a moment to appreciate your reflection in the car's reflective windows as you did.

You'd swapped your blouse for a more casual shirt with a scooped neckline and cut out shoulders. The dipping neck left your stomach exposed, and showed a bit more of your chest than usual, but still not nearly as much as you'd see inside the club. At Aimee's urging you'd also traded your jeans for a pair of tight, high waisted stretch jeans, and slipped a pair of low heels onto your feet. The ensemble wasn't as provocative as Aimee's, but you still gave your reflection a wink as you approached the door.

Two bouncers stood at the door, but waved you in without objection. "Here for amateur night?" The taller one asked. He was broad shouldered, with bushy eyebrows and a neck tattoo creeping up from one shoulder.

You opened your mouth to say no, but Aimee was already answering. "Do you think we should? Oh Stefi, maybe we could win something! What's the prize?"

The bouncer smiled, "Two hundred, and a portion of the tips. Most of the prize ends up being in tips, usually." He gave her an appraising look, "You could probably win it, you know."

"We're just here to talk to somebody," you cut in, "is there a Caramel here?"

The bouncer's eyebrows lifted before he answered, "Probably. She's here most days. Head on in, and talk to the DJ if you decide to do the contest. I'm Ricky by the way."

"Thanks Ricky!" You both said together as you passed him, then shared a smile at the timing. The parking lot disappeared behind you as the door closed, and you were inside.