Diamond Daisy Den

A week from hell. That's what work had been this past week--and the past several weeks before that. With the weekend finally at hand, all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch and lick my wounds. No such luck.

"You're such a fucking asshole," I practically shouted at my husband. "Either we're doing this, or I'll just go finish watching my movie." He grinned at me from between my thighs, his mouth and beard damp. We both knew there was no way I was walking away. Rarely in my life had I ever walked away from having my pussy eaten.

His smile widened and he lowered his face back to my pussy. I gripped my legs behind my knees, trying to pull them wider and closer to my head to give Miguel more access to me. His tongue swept across my lips with deliberate, toe-curling pressure. At the edges of my mind, the past week's worries from work still lingered, but they were quickly fading under his oral assault. Likewise, my resolve against his earlier request was also crumbling. He'd been at it for the past week, but this was the first time he'd asked me while his head was between my legs.

It was a cruel, recurring tactic in our marriage and I resented every time he used it. Whenever he really wanted me to agree to something, he'd try asking me and then pestering me about it. If I still resisted, he knew he could get me to agree to almost anything while he was eating me.

"Robert's bringing Shannon?" I asked, my voice trembling as he licked his way up to my clit.

He paused just long enough to say, "Yes, that's why I need you to... come." He suckled my lips and made a loud, slurping sound.

I clamped my thighs around his head. "This isn't going to work, you know."

"What are you talking about? Can't I pleasure my beautiful wife after a rough week at work?"

I swore I could actually hear him grinning. He pushed his tongue into me, and my back arched as I seized the sheets in my hands, desperate to keep myself from floating away.

"Damn it, Miguel!" I gasped. "I'm--unngghh--"

My voice was cut off as he drove me closer to the brink. Every flick of his tongue loosened my grip on refusal. Every time he paused to offer a new detail on his request, I had to resist the urge to grab his head and pull his face back against me. I had no intention of agreeing to his request, no matter what he did. But it was impossible for me to deny that he could play me almost like a flute, drawing out high-pitched shrieks with his lips and fingers.

"She needs you, Bella. To keep her calm. She's too high-strung with that kind of thing." He kissed my thighs. "And we need you too. She'll ruin the night, I know it.

His mouth was off my pussy for too long that time. I grabbed his head and pulled him back in.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad.

What was I thinking? Of course it would be so bad.

But he was starting to make my mind go blank. The undeniable desire between my legs was drowning out reason. Going there with him and his friends was the last place I wanted to go and was probably the last place I should've been going, and Miguel knew it. He was being selfish.

I tried to focus my mind on that selfishness and pull my body away from him. Yes. Pull away and leave him with blue balls.

"You might even have fun," he said, pausing his licks yet again. He was killing me.

He drove me close and then paused to give more details. Close and then he'd stop using his mouth on me and use it to speak more useless drivel. I didn't give a shit about having fun. There was no way I'd have fun anyway. All I cared about was him making me cum.

My breath had been reduced to short, shallow gasps. My entire body shook like a leaf every time he tongued my clit. I could no longer control my hips, and they bounced off the bed and rose to grind against his mouth.

"Oh... my--fuck!"

Miguel peeled his face away once again. "We don't even have to stay that long. Just long enough for Zac to have a little fun, and then we can go."

Even five minutes would feel like an eternity. But I was going to do it. And not to please Miguel. Not to soothe Shannon's conscience. I was going because I was desperate. I was too desperate to cum to put my legs down and get off the bed. I was a slave to my body's wants and desires, even when my mind told me that giving in to them would be my undoing. So, instead of telling my husband 'no,' I gave in.

"Oh my fucking God! Ok! I'll go!" I shouted.

It was settled. I was going with my husband and his friends to a strip club to babysit the wife of one of his friends.

"Thanks, sweetie," Miguel said in a sing-song voice before pressing his mouth back against my soaking pussy.

Now, there was no turning back. But that was a problem for later. I pushed tomorrow night's ordeal out of my mind while I clung to Miguel's head for dear life as my body went over a cliff. My body tensed and rocked against him as he pulled the orgasm out of me with his tongue.

The pressure became too intense, and I tried to put my legs down, but he kept at it.

As soon as I thought I was about to start coming down from the peak, he sent me up and over another one. I cried out in part pleasure and part torment and pulled the pillow from the top of the bed and stuck the corner of it into my mouth and bit down.

Just when I thought I couldn't take any more, Miguel finally slowed and stilled his mouth. With a wet kiss to the inside of each of my thighs, he lifted his head and crawled up beside me. I laid there panting and gnawing the silk pillowcase as he draped an arm around my waist and pulled me into his body. He gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"You're a fucking pig, you know that?" I said between breaths.

"Yeah, but you still love me." He leaned across me and kissed me deep. I responded, tasting myself on his mouth and tongue.

"I might not after this," I said teasingly as I flicked his damp chin with my tongue. "Don't make me regret this."

He tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and stared into my eyes, his own brown eyes as warm as his touch. "I promise, you won't."

He wrapped himself around me and nuzzled my neck. Even though he'd played dirty, I couldn't stay mad at him. As much as I still didn't want to go, I promised to make a genuine effort to make sure his friends had fun. His friend Robert's wife Shannon would be a different story. If she decided to be a stuck up, prudish shrew, that was out of my hands.

Owen's leg bumped annoyingly against mine as I sat wedged between him and Miguel in the backseat of Austin's Jeep Grand Cherokee. Owen's cologne was an alluring mix of sweet and musk, but he was wearing too much of it. I felt like I was suffocating and tried to lift my chin to catch the gusts of wind coming in through the cracked windows.

Zac sat in the front passenger seat and was bouncing with excitement in anticipation of the evening ahead. All of the guys were excited, in fact. Their excitement stood in stark contrast to my sulking silence. Miguel's occasional squeeze of my thigh assured me I wasn't forgotten, and it felt like a silent 'thank you' for joining them. All the way up until the moment Austin had pulled up in our driveway, I'd been pacing our bedroom and hugging my arms around my body in nervous contemplation of the night ahead.

"You good, Bella?" Miguel asked quietly, rubbing his thumb along my arm.

Owen snorted. "Of course she is! And the night's just getting started."

I rolled my eyes.

"We're going to party like we've never partied!" Austin yelled from up front.

I remained silent and stared out the window on Miguel's side and watched building and vehicle lights go by in a blur. I'd promised myself I wouldn't be a bitch all night. Miguel had brought me to prevent Shannon from doing that. I needed to get my head in the right frame of mind. But it was hard to do when I felt like I was being returned to prison.

About 20 minutes later, Austin brought the SUV to an abrupt stop as he pulled into the parking lot and wedged it into a tight parking space. I followed Miguel out and felt a chill as the night air swept over me. It was a warm summer night, but my body felt like it was standing in the snow. I took a deep breath and stretched, trying to look casual, but Miguel immediately picked up on my body language. He wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. "Are you sure you're ok with this?" he asked. It was a stupid question. He should've thought about that harder when he was tonguing me into submission. It was too late for me to back out now. The rest of the guys were animated, yelling and bouncing across the parking lot like a trio of teenagers breaking curfew.

Another chill swept over me as I slowly lifted my eyes to the neon lights that made up the building's sign: Diamond Daisy Den. An exclusive entertainment club. Or so the management tried to portray. But no matter what label they tried to put on it, it didn't change anything. It was a strip club. And they were all the same. It didn't matter if it was a dive bar off the interstate or a high-class place like this one. They were filled with young women desperate for money and men preying on that desperation. Some of the women were in a bad situation: struggling to feed their children, behind on their rent, trying to pay for school. Sometimes they'd tell themselves that it wasn't so bad having men stare at their body and make lewd comments because the money was good. And if they were good at what they did, the money was very good. And after a while, the money became a drug. Eventually, you couldn't stop. Even when you had enough money, the attention and the money became an addiction. You needed it. It fueled your existence. It gave you worth. And you'd continue like that until one day you looked in the mirror and realized you were just a toy for the masses. A pretty plaything. Maybe you made peace with that. You'd tolerate the catcalls. You'd endure the drunken leers. Because the money was great and so was the attention. But it couldn't last forever. Maybe you did it for a week. A month. A year. No matter what, sooner or later, everyone eventually left. And when you did, you were forever haunted by your dancing days. No matter what you did with the rest of your life, it haunted you.

The ghosts that haunted me didn't come from inside Diamond Daisy Den, but they came from places just like it.

"Look at this bunch of hoodlums!" a voice called out from across the lot. I turned and recognized Robert. I assumed the woman next to him was Shannon.

Miguel waved and steered us over. My heels clicked along the pavement in rhythm with the bass echoing from within the club, and I had to make a conscious effort to change my walking pace twice. I tried to keep my face neutral while avoiding staring at Shannon's dress. It was too bright and too flowery for the venue and belonged back in the early 2000s when it probably fit her better. She wasn't a huge woman but could've stood to lose some pounds. Her purse was clutched to her side like someone might snatch it off her shoulder any second. She had topped off her whole look with a 'Karen-style' haircut.

I hated her on sight. If she wasn't such an insecure bitch, I would be at home curled up on the couch working on my novel. But instead, I had to go through this tormented walk down memory lane. Fuck her and the minivan she rode in on.

"My man!" Miguel said, taking his arm from around me and clapping hands with Robert in an odd handshake that looked like some kind of frat-bro nonsense. "It's good to see you."

"It's good to be seen," Robert said, "wouldn't miss it."

Miguel let out a chuckle. "Yeah, I bet." He turned his gaze to Shannon. "Hey, Shannon, how've you been?"

"Good," she said icily.

Miguel nodded. "This is Bella. Bella, this is Shannon."

I struggled to force a smile, certain that I'd tear a facial muscle. "It's nice to meet you."

"You as well," she responded just as coolly as she'd responded to Miguel.

I barely managed to avoid rolling my eyes and turned my head to look over my shoulder back toward the entrance. The rest of the group was already pressing towards the door and waved at us to come join them in line. I took a deep breath and swallowed hard as we made our way inside. For her own part, Shannon hesitated before following us.

Flashing lights, loud music, and the cheering and yelling of guys assaulted my senses as we entered the club. The smell of alcohol and cologne burned my nose. It had been almost nine years since I'd been inside one, but my body responded as though I'd stopped dancing the morning before. My legs marched me forward with a strut like I was on the main stage. I kept my chin high and angled forward while the hostess guided us to our table.

As we walked, I glanced over my shoulder and saw Shannon clinging to Robert like a life raft. Her eyes darted around nervously and she used her free hand to tug at her dress as we zigged and zagged through the tables, patrons, and dancers.

We reached our table and I gave Miguel a small shove in the back to keep myself next to him and away from Shannon. She and Robert settled in on the opposite side. Shannon was holding her purse like a shield. Her face was a silly blend of judgment and insecurity.

After the hostess took our drink orders, I cast my eyes around, taking in the sights. It was all so familiar. I could almost see a phantom of myself with one leg locked around the pole on the nearest stage, twirling around it while guys threw money at my feet.

Miguel put his hand on my lower back and leaned close to my ear. "You ok?" he shouted but not so loud that the rest of the table could hear.

"Like I never left," I said, staring him in the eyes.

"Wooh! This is it, buddy!" Owen laughed. "Zac's last hurrah."

Miguel rubbed my back, and I tried to still my nerves. My only peace was that Shannon was far more uncomfortable than I was. But despite her obvious discomfort, she was doing her best to appear unbothered. She sat ramrod straight, but her brave face cracked with every sideways glance.

When the drinks arrived, the guys downed theirs almost immediately. I swallowed most of mine, desperate to have the alcohol help calm my nerves. Shannon eyed hers like it was poison and looked like she was barely able to bring herself to sip it. For someone so determined to come tonight, she was miserable.

Miguel and his friends leaned back into the cushions and got caught up in trading old stories.

"Hey, Shannon!" Austin shouted, "you're part of the gang now!" He tipped his glass toward hers and clinked it when she didn't raise it.

"Wonderful. Maybe we should all get matching tattoos," she said dryly.

I wanted to throw the rest of my drink on her. She wasn't even trying to have a good time.

A cheer erupted from our side of the room, and I turned to see the dancer on the nearest stage shaking her bare breasts near the face of a man seated at the foot of the stage. Her antics drew the eyes of the guys at our table as well which prompted a look of disgust from Shannon.

"Are you feeling ok?" I shouted across the table at her. I didn't give a damn whether she was ok. I just wanted to rub it in.

She nodded stiffly and took a large sip from her cocktail.

The guys continued their storytelling, each tale more raucous than the last. Some were raunchy bordering on obscene. Miguel had to cut his friends off a couple of times whenever the story put him in the spotlight. I made a mental note to follow up with him about them at a later date.

Shannon fidgeted with her wedding ring, tugging at it with clear anxiety. She shifted closer to Robert, her movement telegraphing just how misplaced she felt. I didn't feel great either and would've been more able to empathize with her if she wasn't being such a bitch.

Austin and Owen were on a roll. "Remember that time Zac thought he was hooking up with twins?"

Zac leaned over the table, almost keeled over with laughter. "No! We're not telling that story. Not in front of the ladies."

"Don't be like that, we're among friends," Austin responded and launched into it, leaving no detail to the imagination. Even Robert was left howling. Shannon winced like she was trying to pretend her ears were plugged. Her eyes shifted to me for the first time, seeking support but found only my mischievous grin.

"Oh, come on, lighten up. It's not the end of the world," I told her.

"Well, not yet," she responded with dry humor.

As if on cue, a scantily-clad dancer wandered by and flashed Robert a smile. He started to return the smile as if momentarily forgetting Shannon was next to him but then put on a stone face. Owen called out to her and waved her back over. Shannon stiffened as if she might have to fight for the honor of her husband, but Owen sought to treat Zac to a table dance.

I silently hoped it would make Shannon's head explode, but it turned out to be such a tame dance that it might as well have come with a side of tea and crumpets. Despite that, Zac and the rest of the guys laughed and seemed to enjoy the spectacle. The dancer bowed with a flourish at the end, to the cheers of the guys. Austin pulled out a few additional bills and tucked them into the dancer's waistband before she departed.

When I looked across the table, Shannon's lips were pressed tight and she was gripping her glass so hard I thought she might shatter it. I laughed and sipped my own drink before leaning forward to deliver a sarcastic barb. Miguel sensed it and leaned into me, squeezing my thigh under the table.

"Let it go Bella. You're supposed to be making her feel comfortable."

"What? I didn't do anything?" I said with false innocence.

He narrowed his eyes at me, the irritation clear. I sat back in my seat and shrugged my shoulders.

"Oh, man! That girl was incredible!" Zac threw his hands in the air. The alcohol was apparently starting to get to him.

"Don't tell the fiancée," Owen said, cracking up.

Zac took a long drink of his beer. "She'll understand." He burst into a loud rumble of laughter.

Austin slapped Owen on the shoulder. "That was pretty weak, dude." He turned to the rest of us and spread his arms. "I'm getting a real dancer over here."

Robert let out an unsteady laugh. "Another one? So soon?"

Zac threw his arm around Robert's shoulders. "It's my party, and I'll grind if I want to."

Austin waved a twenty in the air. A dancer approached, her pink bikini practically glowing in the light and looking to be made of some kind of plastic material. Shannon followed every curve of her with horrified eyes like she was the living incarnation of sin. She leaned over and said something to Robert who nodded silently but kept his eyes on the dancer. The dancer ran her fingers along Zac's shoulders and proceeded to perform a PG-13 lapdance, taking care to keep her body separated from Zac's lap. Shannon glared at her the whole time and didn't hesitate to release her venom as soon as the woman walked away.

She leaned over to Robert but spoke loud enough for the table to hear. "Are all of these women desperate, or just those last two? Table dances? Really?"

Robert shrugged, avoiding her eyes. "Probably just college girls trying to make money."

"Damaged girls, you mean," Shannon said. "And probably hardly a brain cell among them."

Robert nodded weakly but didn't respond.

But the impulse to shout her down was almost overwhelming for me as I hid my clenched fists under the table. "Takes one to know one, I guess." I barely managed to say the words calmly. Miguel squeezed my hand.

At first, I didn't think Shannon had heard me, but then she turned her eyes to me and continued her tirade. "They all have daddy issues. So, now they whore themselves out for attention from random, dirty men to make up for it."

Robert nodded again as if being controlled by a pull-string.

Shannon continued. "They should be in therapy, not shaking their tits for money."

The rest of the table's attention had drifted to the next stage performer. They cheered and whooped as she strolled out and twirled a cowboy hat on her finger.

Shannon had lost her audience. Her words were directed at me. "These women have no self-respect. If they can't respect themselves, why should anyone else respect them?"

I'd promised Miguel that I'd come here to keep Shannon in check so the guys could have a good time, but she had gone too far.

I rose from my seat and started to launch myself across the table, fully intending to peel Shannon's dumbass Karen-haircut scalp off her skull with my bare fingers. Miguel moved like lighting and grabbed my arm, pulling me out from the table.

"We'll be back," he announced to the table. "We're going to grab something else from the bar." He wheeled me away from the table with such smooth strength that I doubted anyone except him realized how perilously close Shannon had come to facing my wrath.

"She doesn't know what she's saying," Miguel said into my ear as he shuffled me away. "Damn it, Bella, stop!" But I wouldn't stop. I kept trying to pull away from his grip. I was so furious that I couldn't see clearly. Everything was a blur of flashing lights across a sea of shadows.

Back when I was a dancer, I saw myself as more than what Shannon had just reduced the experience to. I wasn't just a dancer. I was an athlete. I was a fantasy. I was sexy and confident, not the broken toy she'd just described. But the ache in my stomach was evidence of how deeply her ignorance had pierced through me. It tore away at my confidence and raised ugly questions I thought I'd put to rest years ago.

"She didn't mean anything by it, Bella," Miguel said as he brought me to the far end of the bar. "She wasn't judging you. She doesn't know anything about you. That's just who she is. She was only saying those things to get a rise out of you because you responded to it. The fact that you care is why she said what she said."

"I don't care!" I shouted in his face. But my shout wasn't because of anger at him. I shouted because I was angry that he was right. I did care. I cared that this total stranger thought of me as a braindead whore with daddy issues, even if she didn't know she was inadvertently talking about me.

Miguel brushed my cheek with the palm of his hand and spoke as if reading my mind. "You're beautiful. Smart. Kind. Classy. A rising star at work. And ten times the woman she could ever hope to be. She's acting out because she feels threatened. She's a sheltered, middle-aged soccer mom who grew up in a small town and whose peak is queen of the PTA."

Miguel's words warmed my chest, and I turned and kissed his hand. He pulled me into his body and gave me a kiss on my lips that lifted me off my feet.

"Don't let her get to you," he said softly.

"Why not?" I replied, anger still bubbling beneath the surface. "She obviously hates dancers."

"But she doesn't know you used to be a dancer."

"But I was. That's the point." I stepped away from him and leaned against the bar. "Coming here was a terrible idea."

Miguel let out a deep sigh. "Yeah, I know. And I'm sorry I dragged you here."

Hearing him apologize took the air out of my angry sails. I wanted him to be dismissive. It would make it easier to blame this entire train wreck on him. But instead, he was acknowledging that a strip club was the last place he should've pressured me to go. He was offering a bridge to forgiveness that I didn't want to cross. But I'd do it for him. For him, I'd return to the table and try not to kill his friend's wife.

He ordered us two drinks, and once we had them, we steered our way back toward our table. "Zac owes me for this," I said as we approached it.

"He owes us both," Miguel replied.

I settled back in, avoiding eye contact with Shannon. Despite my promise to remain violence-free, I was still a lake of gasoline and one spark from her would set me off. I needed a few moments to try to collect myself--but I didn't get a few moments.

"I mean, really... what kind of mother would she make with all those tattoos?" Shannon called out. I followed everyone's eyes to a woman on stage swiveling her hips. She had tattoos on her arms and legs and across her chest. I had to admit that it was a lot of ink, but it was tasteful. Who the fuck was she to judge?

Once again, Miguel read my mind and squeezed my thigh under the table. I turned and looked at him. His eyes showed caution and empathy. I was out of both. He never should've brought me. He should've let me stay home and told Robert to keep his wife on a leash so the guys could enjoy the evening.

Zac finished downing his beer and slammed it on the table. "This is the best night ever! You guys are awesome!"

At least he was having a good time.

The rest of the guys joined in, including Miguel, raising their drinks and shouting over each other. And there I was in the middle of it all. And it wasn't just Shannon testing me now. It was the whole damn place. My old life colliding with my current one, all while Miguel expected me to stand between them and pretend I wasn't being crushed by them.

I took a slow breath and tried to calm my nerves.

Miguel leaned against me. "Just keep ignoring her."

"Until when?"

"Until we go home."

"You make it sound so easy."

He moved his hand higher on my leg. "You'll be glad you did."

My heart fluttered at the implication. But that was exactly how I'd ended up in this mess in the first place. I frowned and turned my head away from him. He owed me big for this. He'd be paying me back for a long time.

My eyes drifted across the room to other tables and dancers mingling with customers. A man in a pinstripe suit strolled out onto the center stage with a mic in hand. The music was turned down as he brought the mic up to his mouth with a flourish.

"Time for something special, boys and girls! The Diamond Daisy Den has a special treat in store for you: amateur wet t-shirt contest starts in ten minutes!"

Hoots and applause erupted throughout the club. Our table was no exception, and I shot Miguel a fake dirty look. He leaned over and kissed me on the nose. Across the table, Robert's enthusiasm was subdued while Shannon's lip curled in fresh disgust. "How about a contest to get a real job?"

Robert leaned away from Shannon as if to distance himself from her comments. He raised his drink in a half-hearted cheer, trying to pretend she hadn't spoken, and joined in with Owen and Austin who were still hooting.

I felt my body coil and rear up like a cobra. Miguel's hand, already gripping my thigh, squeezed firmer. But I wouldn't be denied. "Is that the only reason you came here tonight? To run your mouth?" I practically spat the words out. "You should've stayed home."

Miguel dug his fingertips into my thigh. Shannon's eyes flicked to me and flashed with anger. Her face was uncertain. I'd been taking her shit all night, so it was probably impossible for her to tell where my anger had come from. She was the kind of woman who was used to dishing it and expected everyone to take it. I'd been tolerating her as a favor to Miguel, but I was at my limit.

I leaned forward against the table. "If it's so easy, why don't you try it?"

Shannon's hand went to her chest as if she'd been shot. The pained look on her face was priceless. The weight of my challenge had almost physically knocked her out of her chair. I could feel the rest of the table drawn in with the force of my outburst.

"That's--that's not exactly what I had in mind," Shannon said while tugging at her dress as if it would shield her from my words.

"What's the matter? Afraid that it actually takes talent to do?" I said, sticking out my chin at her. Miguel's grip on my thigh tightened and then he removed his hand, apparently giving up trying to restrain me.

Shannon responded, but her voice had lost its strength. The noise of the club swallowed her response. Her eyes darted to Robert, searching for rescue, but he provided none.

I remained on the attack. "So, you're just trashing these women because they can do what you can't do?"

She opened her mouth to speak but closed it, her resolve crumbling before my eyes and the eyes of everyone else at the table.

"Thought so." I flipped my hair and turned my head. I was so filled with glee, I could've jumped up and started dancing on the table.

An awkward silence settled over the table that was somehow louder than the club's music. Owen was swirling his drink and staring at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Austin was looking at his phone. Zac's head was turned to the dancer on stage. Robert was twirling his wedding band on his finger. I didn't care to look at Miguel. I knew he was upset, but this was his fault. Meanwhile, Shannon sat stiffly, the challenge of my words freezing her like a block of ice. I was ready to shatter it and hopefully end this night early.

My lips curled into a wicked grin. "Come on Shannon. How hard can it be?"

She turned her head in my direction but wouldn't look me in the eye.

"It's not like you have to go topless, so it's ok that you don't have the body for it," I added. Her face twitched at my not-so-subtle insult. "You put on a shirt and get a little wet. No big deal."

As the words left my mouth, I could feel the shift: the pull of my old self waking. This was a challenge I knew I could meet, and her failure to take the bait only fueled my momentum. I leaned into Miguel's body even though I knew he wasn't pleased with the direction I'd taken things.

"I'll sit this one out," Shannon said finally. She huffed and turned away.

In the silence that followed, Owen spoke up. "Wait, so you really have to get wet?"

Austin laughed. "Of course you do. Hence the name of the contest."

I shrugged. "Yes, but generally, you can control the amount of water. If it's too much, you can tell them you've had enough. And you don't even have to be topless underneath. You can wear a bra or even put the shirt on over your dress if you're that worried about it. Wet t-shirt contests in places like this are a lot different than... for instance, Spring Break in Panama City."

Austin and Owen exchanged looks but kept quiet. Maybe I'd said a little too much. I'm sure both guys were wondering how I knew so much about the inner workings of strip club amateur wet t-shirt contests.

The awkwardness continued to hover over our group as if my barrage against Shannon had left a smoldering crater in the middle of the table.

"Why don't you give it a shot?" Miguel said to me.

All eyes at the table, including mine, snapped to him. "What?" I said, not fully sure I'd heard him correctly.

"Why not?" He turned toward me with a smirk that was tinged with contempt.

And right then, I knew he was getting back at me for what I'd said to Shannon. I'd egged her on, so he wanted to try to dent my ego by turning the tables on me. But he should've known better.

Our relationship was littered with moments just like this one where one of us, out of anger or humor or some other fleeting emotion, would essentially dare the other one to do something. We rarely backed down from the challenge. When it came to dares, we were like a couple of stubborn kids. It was unhealthy, and we probably should've sought marriage counseling to address it. But as it was, it had led to some of the most memorable moments of our marriage and dating relationship. And this would be another one. He was an idiot if he thought I was backing down and letting him embarrass me in front of that shrew of a woman.

I peeled my lips back from my teeth, probably looking like a rabid animal. "You're right. Why not?" Without another word, I pushed my way over and past Miguel, eyeing him the whole time. I knew the table was watching this exchange, and I didn't want to look like I was even considering backing down, especially in front of Shannon. I leaned over and kissed Miguel on the forehead. "Wish me luck." And with that, I turned and moved through the club, my head swimming with alcohol, rage, and whispers from the Ghost of Stripper Past.

A cheer went up through the crowd as I approached the stage. The announcer pumped his fist in the air. "We have our first contestant!" He pointed me toward the backstage area and called out for additional contestants. "Come on ladies. Do we have anyone else?" But I didn't care if I was the only one. There was no going back now.

Several more women joined me in the cramped dressing area. I had hoped more women would join the contest but began to regret it. Their combined presence only served to create a suffocating air of nervousness. I didn't share their apprehension. My pulse thumped in time with the beat of the music seeping through the walls. I had been resisting it the whole night, but the atmosphere was finally creeping into my veins. I was coming alive. More alive than I'd been in recent memory. I'd been running from it for so long, but I was finally home.

My body felt like a live wire. I couldn't stay still. I paced in place and then twirled around as if practicing my moves for the contest. As I did, a blur of blonde caught my eye, and I turned to see Shannon hovering uncertainly in the doorway. Her face was the picture of dread, but she looked determined nevertheless.

She took a shaky step into the room, her eyes darting left and right. She was so out of place, it was almost comical. She seemed smaller, almost fragile. I could almost feel the push and pull within her as she relied on her pride to resist the urge to flee. The other girls glanced at her, looking her up and down and evaluating her dress with raised eyebrows.

She caught sight of me, and her expression shifted to either relief or resolve, it was hard to tell which. She moved through the room, her steps gaining strength. "How hard can it be?" she said to me as she approached, repeating my challenge to her. Her chin was high, but there was a tremble to her voice. She glanced back at the exit, but like me, she was in too deep to retreat. It had been one thing for me to challenge her, but by actually entering the contest, I was showing her up. She couldn't allow that.

The contest organizers passed around t-shirts. I reached for one and began peeling off my dress, feeling Shannon's eyes on me. I didn't bother hiding the fact that I hadn't worn a bra. The look of my dress, with its scooping cuts, would've been diminished, so I hadn't bothered with one. As I stood upright and flipped over the white t-shirt, Shannon watched me with wide eyes. She swept her eyes around the room while fumbling her shirt in her hands. The room swarmed with half-dressed women as they donned their shirts--a couple putting it on over their bra, others putting it over bare breasts like I had done, and a few getting completely nude and draping their shirt over their body. Shannon looked to be considering putting her shirt over her dress. Her eyes flicked from girl to girl, each one a reminder of what she'd walked into.

"I'm surprised to see you here," I said, snapping her back to the reality of her situation.

She swung her head around to me. "Robert didn't think I would do it either. Guess he was wrong."

Defiant to the end.

She fumbled with the buttons on her dress as if still debating whether to go through with it but then continued and slipped the straps off her shoulders and lowered her dress. Her underwear was just as frumpy as her dress and looked like it belonged on someone 20 or 30 years older than her. She quickly draped the t-shirt over herself and then neatly folded her dress and sat it aside. She folded her arms in front of her body as if to shield herself, but there was no escape.

Meanwhile, a small thrill was building within me. Something that had been long dormant from a past I'd loved and left. The other contestants giggled and yelled, their eyes wide with excitement and fear as the contestant organizers moved us to a separate area backstage and began to spray us down with cold water--all the better to make our nipples stand out. My own pinkish-brown nipples stuck out through my shirt like the tips of two pinky fingers. But I was grateful the shirts were thicker than the ones I was used to seeing in these kinds of contests, which were pretty much completely see-through when wet. I caught a glimpse of myself in a mirror. The swell of my breasts and the faint glow of my caramel skin showed through. It was just enough skin to excite the crowd without me being basically topless.

The other contestants' eyes flicked to me, sizing up the competition. I didn't share their doubts. I was beyond them. The other women could probably sense it, even if only subconsciously. I was no mere amateur who had wandered backstage on a whim. They were self-conscious even if excited, but I was the embodiment of self-confidence. They wondered if they were attractive and charming enough to get a warm reception from the crowd, but I knew I could capture and command the attention of every single person in the club. In spite of that, I had no intention of showing off. I was only in the contest because Miguel had challenged me. My goal was to put on enough of a show for him to see that being back on the stage didn't bother me as much as he thought it would. I also intended to do just enough to show up Shannon.

At the moment, she was staring down at her wet t-shirt and the visible bra beneath it. I knew every muscle in her prudish body was screaming at her to stop, but she was determined to rise to my challenge. So be it. I adjusted my t-shirt, savoring the cool material against my skin, and turned in place as I admired the way the fabric hugged my curves.

"Alright! First one up!" called out one of the contest organizers. A college-age girl with a pixie haircut traded nervous screams and laughs with her friends in line behind her and then went through the door. Cheers and whistles tore through the backstage area from the main room as the girl went on stage.

The rest of the women backstage with me shifted and fidgeted as we awaited our turn. With each passing moment, the adrenaline surged within me. Shannon stood next to me trying too hard to be steady and confident, but her eyes remained glued to the doorway leading to the stage. The music vibrated through my bones as every cell in my body begged for release. One by one, women stepped up to go on stage, getting one last spray of water before they went out. And then--I was at the doorway.

"Name?" the contestant organizer at the door asked.

"Caramel Apple," I said almost without having to think about it.

He smiled and nodded. "I like it."

He went through the door to announce me while one of the other organizers splashed me with water. The ice-cold water against my chest did nothing to tame the fire of the moment.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Give a warm reception for our next contestant: Caramel Apple!"

I gave Shannon a wink and went out. The crowd's energy engulfed me the moment I went through the doorway. The spotlight crashed over me like a tidal wave as I moved to the center of the stage, walking casually. I swung my hips from side to side in time with the music in a very basic routine, but with every passing second, my intention to keep it simple and restrained evaporated under the intensity of the crowd's reaction. I was alive in a way I hadn't been in so long. My body was awakening from its long slumber, fueled by muscle memory. My hips began to sway to the rhythm of the music with a practiced precision that I couldn't fight. I was a passenger in my own body. It knew the steps too well, and my resolve was no match for the instincts I'd honed back when I spent many a night performing as someone else's fantasy. My hands moved through my wet hair and over my torso. Cheers and whistles erupted like fireworks.

The announcer commented on my routine, but the sound was muted like I was underwater. It was just as it had been back when I was dancing. Once I hit the stage, nothing else in the world mattered. Not my rescinded scholarship. Not my exams. Not my friends. Just me.

And here I was again. Intoxicated. Drunk on the attention that can only come from a room full of strangers hanging on my every move. Every fiber of their being filled with razor-sharp emotions. Lust. Jealousy. Infatuation. Pure hatred.

There was something exhilarating about being able to pull those emotions out of people by doing nothing other than existing. There were times I craved it more than the money it brought. It was a wonder how I'd gotten by these past years without it. And the scary thing was that I didn't know how I'd get by without it in the future.

Somewhere out there in the shadows was my husband and my normal life. What was going through his head? Did he regret challenging me to enter the contest? Was he as hard as a rock and desperate to get me home and fuck me senseless? And what about his friends? No doubt Owen and Austin were watching me with their tongues hanging out of their mouths after having stolen glances at my jiggling breasts earlier in the evening. Had Zac momentarily forgotten about his fianceé? With Shannon no longer by his side, were Robert's eyes glued to my curves?

Time twisted, each second stretching into an hour. I was free. I was reckless: rocking my body and bouncing my breasts which were nearly on full display... lifting the hem of the long t-shirt to show off the upper reaches of my thighs. This stage might have been owned by the club, but it belonged to me. The crowd was a living thing, a beast that roared and howled with me as its master.

Somewhere in the distance the announcer's voice drew closer until I was shocked to find him standing next to me. When I came out of my daze, I realized the music had ended. The customers were on their feet wildly cheering and whistling. I tried to maintain a professional demeanor and took a bow, but I was grinning from ear to ear. I offered a wave to the audience and stepped off to the backstage area with my body sizzling with excitement. Shannon must've been watching my performance from the doorway and regarded me with awe and envy. It would've been hell for anyone to follow me, much less her. I gave her a nod and stepped past to go back to the dressing area to change, but curiosity got the best of me.

I crowded at the doorway with the next contestant while we watched Shannon make her way across the stage. She was like a puppet being pulled along by strings that threatened to snap at any moment. I was sure she'd unravel from the noise and expectation by the time she reached the center of the stage. But something in her hesitance made the audience collectively hold its breath. While my performance had been worthy of the Las Vegas Strip, she was an amateur in its truest form. When the music started, she started moving her body in what can best be described as a kangaroo square dancing. Part of me wanted to run onto the stage to save her from herself. But as the seconds began to pass, she showed no sign of embarrassment. And as she gained confidence with every clumsy step, the crowd started to get behind her. Watching an overweight, stuffy soccer mom parading around in a wet t-shirt draped over her bra and panties was serving as a perverted thrill. Although there were a few chuckles and sarcastic comments, they were almost completely drowned out by the shouts of encouragement.

And Shannon was feeding off of it. Even in my contempt for her, I had to admit that the cheers were as real as her delight. A smile, the first true one of the night, spread across her face as she continued her awkward dance. As much as I had expected and wanted her to be embarrassed and look like a total fool, her determination was a thing to behold. But she wasn't trying to compete with me, she was letting go of herself. And I recognized myself in this newly developing version of her. I recognized the undeniable exhilaration that came from the approval of the crowd. It was written all over her face and came out in her body's motions as her muscles and joints loosened. She was drunk on it like I had been. Her careful façade had shattered. In a matter of a couple minutes, she had been reborn.

When her song ended, she stood at the center of the stage staring out at the crowd. She was breathing hard and grinning. The crowd offered up genuine cheers and applause. I knew she'd never known that sort of approval in her life. Not the sheltered and judgmental one she'd been living.

When she staggered off stage, her eyes were wild and bright. "Oh my gosh! That was insane!" she shouted at me. I couldn't help but return her smile and walk with her backstage while we waited for the last few contestants to perform. The whole time we waited, Shannon's mouth never stopped. All she could talk about was how she'd never done anything like that in her life. She was animated and laughed as she detailed every moment of the experience. And as she described it, I began to finally warm to her. The person I'd met earlier was slipping into the background.

All the contestants were brought back on stage together and were judged according to the applause and cheers from the crowd. I wasn't the least bit surprised when I was announced as the winner, but it was invigorating nevertheless. To feel such a sense of approval from so many total strangers... I had no idea how I'd go back to my regular job on Monday.

After changing back into our regular clothes, we returned to a chorus of cheers at our table. Eyes swept over both of our bodies. Miguel pulled me into a strong embrace and kissed me deep. I could feel his hard cock pressing against me through his pants. If it was up to him, he'd take me right there at the table.

"That was so wild!" Zac shouted as he stood on wobbly legs and pointed at me with both hands. "Hottest wife ever!"

His fianceé would probably take exception to that statement.

Shannon put her hands up to the sides of her head as if shielding herself from view. But there was a brightness to her eyes. "Oh my gosh, please tell me you guys didn't watch us out there." Robert was grinning from ear to ear.

"Of course we saw it," Austin said. "What a show!"

"And you won us free drinks," Owen said as a waitress appeared with a tray of our most recent orders. "Bella, where did you learn to dance like that?" I'd gotten carried away, and now my secret history was on the verge of being exposed.

"She's always been able to move like that once you get a few drinks into her," Miguel said. "My baby is a natural." I smiled and breathed a sigh of relief and hoped Miguel's explanation would end the speculation.

Shannon's fingers seized a cocktail. "I still can't believe I did that," she said, almost to herself. Her posture was relaxed, the tightness of her earlier judgment gone. As she took a sip, I couldn't help noticing the color in her cheeks matched the bold red in her glass.

"Looks like you're not the only one with natural moves, Bella," Owen said with a playful tone.

"To Bella and Shannon!" Zac toasted, raising his drink. "May my future wife be as sexy as you two!" This dude wasn't even married yet, but I was already pessimistic about the future of his marriage.

We all clinked glasses and cheered. Miguel put his arm around my shoulder, and across the table, Robert scooted closer to Shannon.

"This is... this feels good," she said. It was the most decent thing she'd said all evening. Participating in the contest had truly changed her, even if only for the rest of the time we were at the club. She smiled. She laughed. She danced in her seat. She stopped looking at the dancers with a judgmental scowl. In fact, her eyes followed the dancers with a different look--one of fascination. With each sip of her drink, another piece of the 'Shannon' from earlier in the evening faded away.

As we continued to drink, laugh, and listen to the guys recount every moment of the wet t-shirt contest, a dancer in a purple top and g-string covered in sequins sauntered by our table. Austin and Owen beckoned her over and enlisted her in a lap dance for Zac. She smiled and swayed her body in front of Zac who stared at her slack-jawed. Austin and Owen passed him several bills which he slipped into the waistband of the dancer's g-string. She stepped closer to him and put one foot on each side of his chair, hovering above his lap. She leaned forward until her cleavage was just inches from his face. He smiled but didn't otherwise respond. She did it again, moving closer. When he still didn't respond, she leaned in further, this time passing her cleavage across the tip of his nose.

I'd certainly seen and done more scandalous things in the middle of a club before, but I was still a little surprised by her actions. My surprise turned to total shock when Shannon rose from her seat. "Mind if I join?"

The dancer titled her head, her face drowning in amusement. "Sure," she said, motioning Shannon over.

The table went silent, our jaws dropping and eyes going wide. You could've pushed Robert over with a feather.

Shannon stepped toward the dancer and Zac. The dancer shifted to the side, letting Shannon join her as the focus of attention. Shannon was hesitant, but there was also a boldness to her posture--one that reminded me of when she went out on stage during the wet t-shirt contest. She began to move with the dancer with jerky movements of her hips and torso as she tried to mimic the dancer's moves.

"Shit...," Zac mumbled as his eyes flicked between the two women.

"It's official," Owen said, "we're corrupting everyone."

I responded with nervous laughter, still shocked by the total transformation I was witnessing.

"Go, Shannon!" Austin shouted.

The dancer guided her, hands on Shannon's waist, trying to steady Shannon's awkward movements into a smoother, more sensual rhythm. I kept stealing glances at Robert, but he was hard to read. He wore a small smile and was leaned back in his seat.

As the dance continued, Shannon got into it. Her initial reservation had completely vanished. The dancer brought her head close to Shannon's and said something into her ear that we couldn't hear. Shannon's eyes widened in surprise at whatever the dancer had said. The dancer then gestured toward a velvet-curtained doorway and dark hallway at the back of the club and then nodded at Zac.

I sank back into my seat, wishing I could wrap myself in it. I knew exactly what the dancer was suggesting to Shannon and silently prayed that Shannon declined.

The dancer grinned wide and leaned in, speaking more details into Shannon's ears. Shannon's cheeks turned bright red and she glanced at Robert. She bit her lower lip, appearing to consider the proposal. Her eyes suddenly shifted to me and she raised her eyebrows.

Was she seriously asking me? I'd known her all of a couple hours. Still, I knew her well enough to know it was a bad idea.

As subtly as I could, I shook my head.

Shannon swallowed hard and appeared to give it another moment of consideration before shaking her head at the dancer.

I let out a deep breath.

The dancer nodded, smiled, and continued her dance. When the song ended, Zac slipped more bills into her waistband. With one last shake of her breasts near his face, she walked away swaying her hips.

Shannon staggered back to her seat with a disoriented look on her face as if waking from a nap. No one at the table spoke for several moments. Finally, Owen spoke up. "That was fucking hot! I didn't know you had it in you."

"Me either," Shannon responded, keeping her eyes down and focused on the table. There was a small grin on her lips.

"That was great," Zac said. "Really great. This is such a great evening. You all are the best friends a guy could have." He sounded sincere, but his slurred words also sounded like the kind of thing that came from an evening of drinking.

We all sat quietly for several more moments. I kept glancing at Shannon and Robert. Robert was still wearing the same stupid look. Shannon was deep in thought. Finally, she said what was on her mind. "So, what exactly happens back there?" The question seemed to be directed to the whole table, but she was looking at me. She nodded back toward the back of the club in the direction the dancer had gestured.

"Just private dances," I said, trying to sound casual. "It's just a chance for the dancers to make additional money through dancing."

Shannon nodded. "Just dancing? They don't...?" She let the unspoken part of her question hang in the air.

"No," I said flatly. "At least, not in reputable clubs. There's always a chance that a customer is an undercover cop, and clubs can't be seen as authorizing prostitution in the VIP rooms."

Owen snorted a laugh. "I guess you can't call this place reputable then." He turned his eyes to Austin who chimed in.

"I know I've had my fair share in those back rooms," Austin said.

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah right. Zac probably had a better chance with those twins than you ever did with any dancer here."

The table roared with laughter at Austin and Zac's expense, recalling the earlier story about Zac's lack of success.

Shannon spoke up when the laughter died down. "If it's all no big deal back there, maybe we should let Zac go have a little last-minute fun before the big day."

Once again, all eyes turned to her in disbelief. Surely that suggestion hadn't come from the stuffy, conservative PTA queen.

Austin gave her a thumbs up. "Right on. I'll chip in for a dance for him."

"But... maybe someone should go with him," Shannon said abruptly. "To make sure nothing inappropriate happens." Just as soon as she'd lifted the excitement of the table, she'd deflated it with her suggestion that Zac needed a chaperone. But Owen quickly threw a grenade into the middle of the table.

He turned his sights on Miguel. "What about you, man?"

"You're crazy. I'm not going back there with him," Miguel said.

Owen waved his hand. "No, not that. You should go get yourself a dance. You're already married. You don't need a babysitter do you?"

Austin quickly joined in with the teasing. "That's right. You haven't gotten a dance all night. Bella must run a pretty tight ship these days. Back in the day, you would've--"

"That's because that was before me and her got together," Miguel said, cutting him off. "Now, she's all the dancer I need." He leaned over to give me a kiss, but the challenge had been made. And it was just as much a challenge to me as to Miguel.

I leaned out of the way of the kiss. "What are you guys saying? I can't trust him to get a silly little lapdance?"

"Oh, no, not at all," Owen said sarcastically. "I'm sure everything would be just fine. Just like you said. Nothing goes on in the private rooms, right?"

I felt a flutter of jealousy as I pictured Miguel in a private room with a dancer pressing her bare tits against his face. I knew from personal experience that despite what I'd said just now, things sometimes got carried away in the back rooms. But I wasn't about to let Owen and Austin know I was nervous about it. And Miguel was trustworthy.

I turned to Miguel. His face was smoothed over with a look that said he was waiting for my answer, willing to leave it all up to me.

"Go on then," I said with a shrug. I patted Miguel's thigh and tipped my head in the direction of the private rooms.

Shannon's face twisted in disbelief.

Miguel hesitated, giving me one last chance to change my mind. His loyalty was too strong, too real for me to let Austin and Owen's dare become something ugly.

"Do you want me to pick one out for you?" I asked him.

Before he could answer, Owen chimed in. "No, no, no. I already have one in mind." He turned in his seat and pointed across the room at a dancer who was making her way between tables. She had long dark wavy hair that went just past her shoulders, brown skin, and a slim but athletic build with curves in the places Miguel loved.

I clenched my teeth and turned back to Owen while trying to desperately keep a calm exterior.

Leave it to drunken Zac to express what we were all thinking. "Hey, she looks just like Bella."

The table erupted in laughter. I had to force mine. Owen had made his pick on purpose to try to upset me and get me to change my mind, but I refused to give him the satisfaction.

I gave Miguel a nudge. "Well, go have fun."

He hesitated again, seeming to search my eyes, but finally rose from his seat. I watched him as he crossed the room and made contact with the dancer that Owen had pointed out. My stomach knotted when Miguel leaned in close to her and said something into her ear. Whatever he said brought an immediate smile to her face which knotted my stomach further. The dancer pointed in the direction of the VIP rooms and Miguel nodded. I chewed the inside of my cheek as the two of them joined hands and crossed the club and disappeared through the velvet curtain.

I knew I could trust him, but it didn't make this whole thing any easier to endure. Owen and Austin almost seemed to forget about it immediately and resumed their boisterous joking and laughter with Zac. I did my best to keep a calm and cool face as the minutes ticked by and my mind drifted away from the table and toward the back hallway.

How long had they been gone? What were they doing? No doubt the dancer had taken off her top and was shaking her tits at Miguel. Fucking whore. Was he sucking them? Was she grinding in his lap? Was he fantasizing about fucking that bitch? He probably was, even though I did just about anything sexual he ever asked of me. Why would he agree to go back there with her in the first place? Did she have her slut-panties off now? Was she spreading her pussy for him? Would he come back with his face stinking from that whore?

My eyebrows shot up when the curtain parted and Miguel walked out. His dancing harlot leaned in and gave him kiss on the cheek that set my blood boiling. The dance was over, what the fuck was she doing?

Miguel strolled back to the table looking more satisfied than I wanted him to. The relaxed and easy way his body moved made me nauseous. I fought hard to dismiss a mental image of him leaned back in a chair spurting cum while she jerked his cock.

Owen, Austin, and Zac let out cheers. Owen reached across the table to high-five Miguel who returned it. "You feeling good?" Owen said. "Feeling... released?" He and Austin burst into laughter.

Miguel's eyes met mine. "Everything was fine," he said. "Totally above-board." His words did little to calm the raging jealousy coursing through my veins. He sat back in his seat next to me and leaned in to kiss me. I knew that if his lips tasted like pussy, I'd kill him then and there, so rather than take that chance, I leaned away.

His eyes looked pained.

"You need a breath mint," I said, forcing a laugh and pretending to make a joke. "You smell like you had a little too much fun."

Austin, Owen, and Zac joined in with my joking laughter, oblivious to the mental torment I was experiencing.

"Haha," Miguel said. He pressed his body closer to me and put his hand on my thigh. I wanted to believe that nothing had gone on, but I knew what dancers were like--especially when they spotted a wedding ring.

My eyes drifted across the table where they met Shannon's. I was surprised to see a look of sympathy from her as if she could read my mind. Her eyes briefly flashed toward her husband sitting next to her then back to me. She smiled and grabbed her drink then raised it.

"Now, it's back to the man of the evening," Shannon said loudly. "Time for Zac's dance." When everyone at the table cheered, except for me, she took a sip of her drink and rose to her feet. "Me and Bella will go with him."

My eyes almost fell out of my head. The last thing I wanted to do was go watch Zac get a private dance. "Why me?" I said. My voice sounded like a whine.

"Because the two of us can be trusted to make sure it doesn't get out of hand," Shannon said, not stopping to entertain any argument.

The guys at the table exchanged looks then turned their eyes to Zac. He shrugged his shoulders. "I guess that's fine by me." The tone of his voice suggested he was anything but fine with having the two of us put a damper on his dance. But Shannon wasn't going to take 'no' for an answer from him or me.

I took a last sip of my drink but then picked up the whole glass and got out of my seat. If I had to do this, I was taking my drink with me.

Zac rose and looked around the club. He pointed out a redhead in the next section. "How about her?"

She was wearing a fire-engine red sequined bikini and had a voluptuous build of hips, ass, and breasts that I noted was the total opposite of his thin-framed fianceé.

"It's your dance, dude. Whatever you want," Owen said. He pushed a handful of bills into Zac's hand.

Shannon and I hung back while Zac went over to speak to the woman. She nodded and motioned with her finger for Zac to follow. Her expression turned to confusion when Shannon and I crossed the club and intercepted them at the entrance to the back hallway.

"They're my chaperones," Zac said while gesturing toward us with his thumb. He sounded like a kid upset that his mom insisted on tagging along on his date. The dancer looked us both up and down and shrugged. The bouncer at the curtain nodded at us as we all passed through and into the hallway.

The private room wasn't much different from ones I'd seen before. Neon-red halos of light that matched the dancer's outfit bounced around the walls and ceiling. A pole and small platform were mounted in the center of the room. A leather couch was set against the wall opposite the door. A pair of speakers were mounted in the corners of the wall near the ceiling and were undoubtedly connected to the wall-mounted electronic system near the door that the dancer would use to queue up her songs.

Zac passed the dancer a wad of bills and stumbled over to the couch and fell back onto it. The dancer smiled and pressed several buttons on the touchscreen by the door and music began pumping through the overhead speakers. She sauntered across the room, the light bouncing off her sparkling bikini. She stepped onto the platform and swayed around the pole, her body slithering around it like a serpent. Her attention remained fixed on Zac who sat with his mouth half-open in a grin. Me and Shannon had been forgotten.

I took a sip of my drink and continued to linger near the door, already ready for this to be over. Shannon also hovered near the door, but her body language suggested a different attitude. The way she wrung her hands and her eyes followed the dancer's every move made it clear that she was intrigued by the performance.

After another twirl around the pole, the dancer stepped off the platform and closed the distance between herself and Zac before performing a sensual swivel of her hips in front of him. She stepped closer, one foot on each side of his legs and lowered herself until she was sitting on his lap.

Shannon took a step forward. Despite her newfound acceptance of the club and its employees, she was not prepared to watch this engaged man have too much fun.

But as she closed the distance between herself and them, the universe shifted. Rather than caution them that they were getting a little too familiar, Shannon raised her arms and began to sway her body to the music. Zac's eyes widened in surprise which drew the dancer's attention. The dancer's face broke into a wide smile when she turned her head and saw Shannon dancing next to them. She rose from Zac's lap and stepped to the opposite side of him from Shannon. She reached across him and grabbed Shannon's hand, pulling her closer to Zac and folded her into her dance. The dancer pointed and gestured at Shannon while trying to guide her movements. Shannon was a quick study. No longer left to her own devices like she was during the wet t-shirt contest and the dance at the table, she proved capable of surprisingly seductive movements.

Zac's mouth was hanging completely open by now as he turned his head back and forth between Shannon and the dancer. He blinked his eyes every few moments as if not believing what he was seeing. Shannon was keeping pace with the dancer, the two of them moving in tandem as they twirled, shook, and thrusted their bodies at Zac. Only when the dancer reached back and undid the top of her sparkling red bikini did Shannon's rhythm break. She looked on, dazed, as the dancer continued dancing with complete comfort in being topless.

I shouldn't have been surprised with what happened next, but the universe itself stopped and tilted as Shannon reached for the straps on her dress and lowered them off her shoulders. In the next moment, she reached back and unhooked her bra and let it drop to the floor. My drink nearly tumbled to the floor as well.

I couldn't decide what was more shocking: the fact that Shannon had exposed herself or that she'd done so with such ease. Zac, whose eyes had been glued to the dancer's bare breasts, ripped around to Shannon's as they hovered into his view. I thought the poor guy was going to have a heart attack right then and there, surrounded by the women.

The dancer took Shannon by the hand and pulled her closer and then guided her so that she was standing with one foot on each side of Zac's legs. Then the dancer guided Shannon's hips down until she was sitting on Zac's lap. If I hadn't been shocked senseless already, I probably would've fallen over as I watched Zac's hands come around Shannon's body and cup her ass through her dress. It was one thing to get a little carried away dancing, but it was another thing to let Zac touch her, so I expected Shannon to respond negatively to the intrusion. Instead, she swiveled her hips on Zac's lap, prompting him to squeeze her cheeks.

The prim and proper PTA prude I'd met earlier in the evening was familiar to me. I had no idea who this woman was that was sitting on Zac's lap. She arched her back and ground down on him. Zac slid his hands from her ass to her sides and then tentatively up her sides and onto her bare tits. Shannon threw her arms around Zac's neck and gazed down at his hands as if she'd never had anyone touch her tits before. Zac looked like a kid in a candy store fondling her, tentatively at first but then with increasing confidence. But like a guy, he couldn't just be content with what he had.

The dancer drifted closer and knelt on the couch next to the pair. Zac eyed her breasts for only a moment before moving one hand off Shannon's chest and putting it on the dancer's. His head looked like it was going to spin off as he whipped it back and forth between the women. The dancer leaned in closer to Zac, cradling the back of his head and stroked his hair with her fingertips. When Zac turned his head in her direction, her tits were basically in his face. I shouldn't have been surprised to see him flick out his tongue and lick one of her nipples.

The dancer threw back her head and let out a loud giggle but didn't move away. Apparently encouraged by that, Zac clamped his lips around the nipple and sucked it. As he did that, I noticed him move his hand down from Shannon's chest and back to her ass. He gave it a strong squeeze, and Shannon went with it, grinding herself on his lap, apparently not at all taken aback by the display in front of her. Zac shifted to the dancer's other nipple and sucked it into his mouth while the dancer slowly swayed her hips next to him.

After several moments of Zac sucking the dancer's tits, Shannon's competitive nature came roaring back. It was the same force that had made her rise to my challenge and enter the wet t-shirt contest. But this time, she was determined to rise to what she viewed as a challenge from the dancer.

Shannon put her hands on Zac's shoulders and leaned forward which effectively worked to separate his mouth from the dancer's nipple. At the same time, she brought her own breasts close to Zac's face. Zac needed no encouragement whatsoever and immediately sank his mouth onto Shannon. Shannon squealed and threw her head back while Zac feasted on her.

Only when the next song ended did the spell over the three of them break. The dancer pulled herself free and crossed the room to retrieve her top. Shannon sat upright and climbed off Zac's lap. Zac, though still looking dazed, wiped his mouth and ran a hand over his hair and stood up. Shannon's eyes met mine briefly as she redid the straps of her dress. I couldn't maintain eye contact with her. I didn't know who she was. The conservative soccer mom I'd met earlier in the evening had vanished. The woman who'd just been getting her tits sucked was a total stranger.

Once the women had covered themselves back up, the dancer bid us farewell, and the three of us entered the hallway to return to the main part of the club. As we passed through from the VIP area, Shannon's eyes immediately darted across the club toward our table. Toward Robert. She turned her head and looked at me, her eyes locking with mine in a silent, desperate plea for secrecy. I gave a subtle nod of understanding, acknowledging our unspoken pact. What had happened wasn't my business. That was between her and her husband... and Zac.

Zac strolled effortlessly in front of us toward the table. I had to assume he wouldn't kiss and tell either. He had as much to lose as Shannon given that he was practically married at this point. It wouldn't serve him well to go blabbing to Robert that he'd just been sucking his wife's tits and grabbing her ass.

"How was it, dude?" Owen asked as we got to the table.

"Party poopers, the both of them," Zac said while waving his hand at us dismissively. "They wouldn't even let me grab the dancer's ass."

I had to say, I was impressed with his ability to lie so fluidly, especially given his intoxicated state.

Shannon slumped into her seat next to Robert, her fingers trembling around her cocktail glass as she tipped it to her mouth and drank down the remaining contents. Robert spoke up, apparently sensing something was off with his wife.

"How was everything? You weren't too much of a wet blanket were you?" He gave her a playful nudge with his elbow. Shannon's shoulders hunched and she stared down at the table, her eyes sweeping back and forth. The reality of her behavior in the VIP room was catching up with her fast, and she was going to crumble. I had to do something.

"She was a little bit of a bitch, if I'm being honest," I said.

All eyes at the table turned to me. Miguel leaned away from me. "Bella, come on, why would you say that?"

I shrugged and tried to look like I meant it. "I said what I said." I turned my head away and cast my gaze across the room. If I made eye contact with Shannon or Zac, I knew my façade would falter, and Miguel would pick up on it. Then he'd start asking questions, and the whole thing would break down.

The table sat in silence in the wake of me calling Shannon a bitch. Finally, Owen spoke. "Another round!" he declared, signaling a waitress. "We can't let this party die. I haven't even gotten a dance yet."

I noticed Shannon perk up at that. "Not by yourself," she said.

Owen's smile faded. "But I'm not engaged. I don't need babysitters." He looked to the other guys for support.

"It's not babysitting, it's guidance. You have a girlfriend, don't you?" she responded.

Owen scratched his neck. "Sort of..."

"Then that settles it. You need a chaperone." Shannon's eyes shifted to me and she nodded in Owen's direction.

I dug my nails into my seat cushion. What was she playing at? Was she planning to let Owen suck her tits too? I'd already gone further than I'd planned tonight with the wet t-shirt contest and then watching Shannon's little performance with Zac. I wasn't sure I wanted to witness whatever she was planning with Owen.

"I think I'll sit this one out," I said. I felt Miguel's eyes on me.

"Please," Shannon said. Her eyes became intense and full of pleading. "I need you there."

She wasn't just asking for company, she was asking for permission. She needed validation of this new version of herself that she was exploring. More than that, I knew that she might go too far without anyone there to pull her back.

"Fine," I grumbled. "One more."

Owen looked between us and then rolled his eyes. "Great. Why don't we just have the whole table go back there. Robert, Miguel, are you guys sure you don't want to go?"

Miguel laughed. "No way, man. I'm going to sit right here and enjoy my drink."

Robert held up his hands and shook his head.

Shannon shifted around the table to stand next to Owen. She put a hand on his arm. "Don't be such a baby. You won't even notice we're there."

But I sensed something in her voice that told me he would notice us very much.

Shannon gave Owen a gentle push to steer him away from the table and urged him to pick a dancer. I tried to keep my face even. I wanted to sit and enjoy my drink too. The last thing I wanted was to watch Shannon shake her tits in one more guy's face. But I knew I had to go. So, I got to my feet and followed.

The air felt thicker in the second room. Somehow, I could sense that things were going to escalate. But rather than try to talk Shannon into leaving Owen to have his private dance alone, I once again cast myself off to the side of the room and pressed my back against the wall, hoping I could somehow disappear into it. Owen flopped onto the couch, still looking like a pouting little boy. Shannon was standing off to the side, charged and flexed like a spring. The dancer, a tall blonde wearing scraps of silver fabric over her breasts and between her legs, stepped onto the small platform in the center of the room and began to circle the pole as if her body was made of liquid. Her eyes locked onto Owen, ignoring Shannon and me. She'd barely given us a glance when she first saw that we were accompanying him for his dance and didn't ask any questions.

Owen's face began to transform from the look of disappointment he'd worn since we left the table. Despite our presence, the dancer's movements were beginning to take his complete attention. She reached behind her back and began to pull off her skimpy top, revealing a pair of perfectly round breasts that barely moved. Owen leaned forward as if drawn to them. The dancer smiled and descended from the platform, her hips swaying as she strolled toward him.

And then Shannon stepped forward with her.

She didn't hesitate. She didn't ask permission. One moment she was standing next to me, and the next moment she was beside the dancer, swaying her body and trying to mimic the dancer's movements. The dancer faltered for a second, looking confused, but recovered and continued. The two women circled Owen, the dancer looking polished and practiced while Shannon stumbled to match her. But what she lacked in technique, she made up for in charged energy. I kept trying to deny it and pretend that I couldn't feel it in the air. I kept telling myself that what had happened with Zac was an isolated event, a horribly uncharacteristic break from who Shannon was. But as I watched her dance next to Owen, it was clear that things were about to repeat themselves.

In one fluid motion, Shannon suddenly grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up and over her head, leaving her in nothing but her shoes and panties. She hadn't put her bra back on after taking it off for Zac, and I wondered whether she'd left it in the other room.

"Holy shit," Owen said, staring at Shannon's bare chest.

The dancer moved in closer, refusing to be completely upstaged by the amateur. Owen looked back and forth between the women, unable to decide where to focus. As they continued to dance, he reached for them both. He was hesitant at first but grew bolder when neither pulled away. His hands wandered from their waists, to their backs, and continued up and around to their tits. The dancer arched her back into his touch. Shannon watched for a moment and then, as if looking to one-up her, shifted her body and arched herself so that her breast was pressed to Owen's mouth. He didn't hesitate and clamped his lips over her nipple. Shannon closed her eyes and her mouth fell open. The dancer moved to reclaim his attention and crowded in next to Shannon, pressing her own breasts against Owen's face. She shifted her hips and stepped around Owen and slid onto his lap. Her silver bottoms caught the light as she began grinding against him which moved Shannon out of the way. Shannon stood by his side, her hand resting on his shoulder and her breasts brushing his arm. She watched for a several moments, her facial muscles tense. And then she raised the stakes.

I looked on in horror as Shannon slid her hand down Owen's arm to his wrist and then lifted his hand and guided it between her legs, pressing his palm against the front of her panties. Owen's eyes widened, but he followed her guidance and began rubbing her through the thin fabric. Shannon's body shuddered, and she once again closed her eyes.

The dancer looked on, continuing to grind on his lap but then leaned forward and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and fumbled for his wallet before pulling out several bills. The dancer offered a wide smile as she went to tuck the money away and then returned to his lap, guiding his free hand to her panties. Shannon barely noticed. Her body was writhing with the pleasure being delivered by his other hand. But it apparently wasn't enough.

Shannon leaned closer to Owen, her lips brushing his ear, and whispered something. His eyes widened again and he looked up at Shannon as if he was unsure he'd heard her correctly. She smiled and nodded, her eyes glassy and far away. Owen's hand shifted and his fingers slipped beneath the edge of her panties. Her mouth fell open again and she let out a loud moan that echoed off the room's walls.

My stomach clenched at the sight of her. I'd thought she'd gone too far by letting Zac suck her tits, but now here she was letting herself be fingered by a different one of our husbands' friends. Her. Conservative, judgmental Shannon. Queen of the PTA. Empress of the Soccer Mom Empire. This wasn't just Shannon letting loose or exploring a wild side or rising to my taunts and challenges. This was something that could shatter her marriage. The life and reputation she'd built.

The absurdity of what I was seeing was enough to make me momentarily wonder if maybe I was hallucinating from something Miguel had slipped into my drink.

Once again, the dancer responded to being upstaged and stood up abruptly. She hooked her thumbs into her silver bottoms and slid them down her legs. Now completely naked, she returned to Owen's lap and guided his hand between her legs. Owen looked like he might pass out from sensory overload as his hands worked in tandem. Shannon didn't seem to notice or didn't care that he was fully fingering the dancer now too. She was completely focused on his fingers as they worked inside her panties. Her hips moved against his hand with increasing intensity that built until she grabbed his arm and cried out. Her body shuddered against his still-moving hand, and she tried to say something, but it came out as completely unintelligible gibberish.

As her breathing started to slow and she started to come back down, she took a step back and gently moved Owen's hand from her panties. For a moment, her eyes seemed unfocused as if she suddenly didn't know where she was. She looked over Owen and the dancer and took another step back. With Shannon out of the way, the dancer leaned against Owen's chest, trapping his hand between their bodies. Shannon brushed her hand over her Karen-cut hair and stooped down to pick up her dress. She kept her eyes on the floor as she put it back on and then went to stand against the wall adjacent to the one I was leaning against. She pulled her arms around her body, hugging herself. For a moment, it looked like she was going to cry, but she maintained her composure even as she continued to stare at the floor.

When the next song ended, the dancer got off Owen's lap. She leaned in and gave Owen a kiss on the cheek before picking up the pieces of her outfit. After she'd put them back on, she moved toward the door while beckoning Owen over. He got to his feet with his face looking dazed and we all followed the dancer out.

We staggered back to the table like criminals returning to our hideout after a bank robbery. Shannon's eyes flashed to mine. The same silent plea was etched across her face. I subtly nodded and relief washed across her features. Just as before, it wasn't any of my business. If she wanted to let her husband's friends suck her tits and fingerbang her, who was I to interfere?

Owen followed a few paces behind us with his face still frozen in disbelief. Whatever he'd expected from his private dance, it hadn't been what had happened.

"There they are!" Miguel called as we approached. He stretched his arm toward me, and I slid into the space beside him.

Robert straightened in his seat. "Have fun?" he asked Shannon.

"Huh? Oh. Yes." Shannon said without meeting his eye as she returned to her seat.

Austin leaned forward, eyeing Owen. "Tell me they let you have at least a little fun."

A huge grin spread across Owen's face, and his eyes flicked to Shannon and then quickly away. "Yeah, a little bit. It was better than I expected."

"I bet...," I muttered under my breath. For the first time, I was irritated with Owen for going along with everything Shannon had done. He wasn't a hostage. He could've said no. He could've focused on the dancer. It should've been obvious to him that Shannon wasn't in her right mind, but despite that, he'd made a conscious decision to touch his friend's wife anyway.

I shook my head in disgust and took a long sip of my drink. My eyes drifted around the club, not quite focusing on any one thing. Miguel's hand found my leg under the table.

"You ok?" he said, close to my ear.

I nodded even though I was far from ok. I blamed Owen. I blamed Shannon. I blamed Zac. But this was a nightmare of my own making that had started with me taunting Shannon into that wet t-shirt contest. And apparently, the nightmare wasn't over.

"Austin," Shannon suddenly called out. "You're the only one who hasn't had a private dance yet."

My eyes turned to her, not sure I'd heard her correctly. But I had. Her eyes were bright and turned up, no longer cast down to the floor. The meek and repentant woman that had left the room with Owen had transformed back into the mischievous imp that had been inside the room with him.

Austin's eyebrows raised in response to Shannon's comment. "You keeping track of who's been naughty and nice?"

"Someone has to," she said. The slightest hint of a smile formed at the corner of her mouth.

I scanned the table, noting that she'd excluded Robert from her accounting. Her husband sat beside her, oblivious to her slight, his attention caught by the dancers on the main stage.

Shannon took a sip of her drink and then retrained her eyes on Austin. "What do you say?" Shannon pressed. "Last chance before the night's over."

Austin glanced at the other men. Zac and Owen wore shit-eating grins, each one assuming they'd been the only one to sample Shannon's treasures. Miguel seemed only vaguely interested in whether or not Austin went for a dance. Robert's attention was still divided.

"I'm assuming you're coming to keep me out of trouble too?" Austin said to her as he rose from his seat.

"I'm coming too," I said quickly. The group turned to look at me, apparently surprised that Shannon didn't have to twist my arm this time.

"Perfect," Shannon said, already on her feet. She led us through the crowd, confidence pouring off of her with every step. She hadn't lost a step from her encounter with Owen. I already knew she was going to do the same thing with Austin--maybe even more. But I wasn't sure what I could do to reel her in. And, as I'd already contemplated, it wasn't my place to do so. We weren't friends. I hadn't even met her before tonight, and up until a short time ago, she was 100% a stuck-up, insufferable bitch. The fact that the bottom was falling out of her bullshit persona was fitting, in a way.

The dancer Austin picked was cut from a different cloth from the other ones. She offered a professional smile, but there was a wariness in her eyes. "Just him," she said, nodding toward Austin. "You two can watch."

Austin settled onto the couch and spread his arms across the back. "Make yourselves comfortable, ladies."

Shannon and I stood against the wall and watched as the dancer began her routine. She lacked all of the charm of the previous dancers. Her movements were almost mechanical, and there was an emotional distance she kept between herself and Austin that matched the physical one. She climbed the platform and circled the pole with the expertise of a practiced professional, but there was little enthusiasm. She occasionally glanced at Shannon and me as if trying to decide whether we were threats.

Shannon watched for about a minute and a half before pushing off from the wall and sliding across the room. The dancer's expression immediately tightened into a look of annoyance. She looked poised to say something but kept her mouth shut. Instead, Shannon spoke.

"Do you mind if I..." Shannon said, gesturing toward Austin without bothering to look at the dancer. It wasn't really a question. She was already grabbing the hem of her dress and pulling it over her head to reveal her semi-nude form.

Now, the dancer did speak. "Yes, I do mind. This is my job. If you want to strip, go audition."

Shannon laughed as though the dancer had made a joke, but I knew from experience that she was serious. "It's ok, it's just a little fun." She stood in front of Austin, their knees touching. "You don't mind, do you?"

Austin's wide eyes swept over Shannon's body. "No, not at all," he responded. His cool confidence was faltering.

Shannon spread her legs and moved to straddle his lap. The dancer stepped down from the platform and folded her arms. "You want me to keep dancing or what?" Neither Shannon nor Austin responded. Shannon placed her hands on Austin's shoulders and began to grind against him while he lifted his hands to her ass and squeezed her cheeks.

The dancer turned to look at me and gave me a look of exasperation. I shrugged and she returned to her routine, dancing with even less enthusiasm now that her audience had forgotten she existed. I pitied her and understood her frustration. As a dancer, you were the professional. But sometimes, couples came in and seemed more interested in amateur hour than professional entertainment. Still, if they were paying, what could you do? The rules said customers weren't supposed to touch dancers. They didn't say anything about customers touching each other.

And touching each other is what Shannon and Austin seemed determined to do. Shannon arched her back and pressed her breasts into Austin's face. I was certain he was sucking her nipples based on the way she moaned and tipped her head back. He slid his hands to the waistband of her panties and began sliding them over her ass.

This was about to get out of control. She was about to cross a line she couldn't uncross. When her marriage collapsed and people started asking the inevitable 'Who knew what and when', I'd have a lot of explaining to do. When Miguel found out that I let his friend's wife destroy her marriage right in front of me, I'd have little excuse for my inaction. I couldn't let it happen... not on my watch. In an instant, I made my decision on how to deal with it.

"Damn it," I muttered under my breath. I clenched my hands into fists and pushed off the wall. The dancer glanced at me as I passed by. I gave her a slow head shake and roll of my eyes to convey that I realized Shannon and Austin were getting carried away. When I reached them, I wedged myself between them with my back to Austin and put my hands on Shannon's shoulders and gently but firmly pushed her away. "Bathroom break," I said.

Shannon turned to look at me with clouded eyes as if she couldn't understand why I'd interrupted her pleasure. "What are you doing?" She asked. A dizzy smile spread across her face. "I was just getting started."

"Yeah, that's the problem," I responded as I reached to tug on her arm.

I flinched when Austin's hands slid onto my hips, pulling me back against him. "No need to fight over me, ladies," he said. "There's plenty of me to go around." When I didn't immediately slap his hands away, his fingers dug into my sides as he slid his hands up my body until they were cupping my breasts through my dress.

My mouth fell open in absolute shock. I knew the alcohol and the atmosphere were the driving forces behind it, but it was still surreal to see and feel him taking such a liberty with my body. As my brain started to engage and I went to move his hands, Shannon thankfully slid off his lap. My relief turned to horror as she lowered herself to the floor and pushed his knees apart.

"Fine," she said, looking up at me. "You take the top, I'll take the bottom."

Before I could process what was happening, her hands were on Austin's belt, working the buckle. Austin groaned behind me and tightened his grip on my breasts as Shannon freed his zipper.

"Shannon, what the fuck?" I managed to say, but there was no force behind my words. The strength in my body was quickly fading as I watched my plan to separate them backfire.

The dancer stopped dancing again and folded her arms. "Should I leave?" she asked. Her question now seemed to be directed at me as much as at Shannon and Austin.

"No, stay," Austin said quickly and removed his hands from my chest. He fumbled in his pocket and wallet and pulled bills out and held them out to her. "Keep dancing."

The dancer gave him a frown of disgust but came forward to take the money before resuming her half-hearted performance.

Shannon had Austin's pants open now and slid her hand inside. Her face lit up as she found what she was looking for. After moving her hand back and forth several times, she pulled out his cock. Panic surged through me. This was about to slip beyond my control.

I made a split-second, desperate decision. If I couldn't physically pull Shannon away, I'd have to create a distraction. I reached down and grabbed the hem of my dress and lifted it up my body and pulled it over my head.

Austin's reaction was immediate. He reached for my waist and turned me to face him. His eyes drank in my bare tits. "Holy shit," he said in a voice that was barely audible over the music.

I shifted and then extended my leg and sat squarely on his lap, straddling him and pushing Shannon out of the way as I created a complete barrier between his exposed cock and Shannon's mouth. Austin's hands locked onto my hips while he continued to stare at my chest, apparently content. I thought I'd pulled off my plan flawlessly until I felt Shannon moving behind me. The first touch of her bare breasts against my back sent a shiver down my spine. The sensation of another woman's nakedness pressed against me was almost entirely foreign. I stiffened, unsure how to react. I was caught in my own snare--between the feverishly hot skin of her soft curves and the hard grip of Austin's hands.

Shannon brought her head alongside mine and spoke warm breath against my ear. "Relax, we're just having fun."

She snaked her arms around me until her hands closed over my tits. They were unexpectedly gentle as her fingers traced circles around my nipples. The intimate touch of another woman was jarring, but my body responded as my nipples hardened.

Austin looked on with his face fixed as though he couldn't believe his eyes. She must've been watching him because she suddenly cupped my breasts and lifted them like an offering and guided one toward Austin's half-open mouth. He didn't give it a second of thought and closed his lips around my nipple and immediately began sucking on it. A jolt of pleasure shot through my body with so much intensity that I momentarily forgot where I was, what I was doing, and what I was supposed to be trying to prevent. I gasped and grabbed the back of his head, pulling his face tight against my chest while leaning into him and trying to press my breast deeper into his mouth.

"She likes that," Shannon said, once again speaking against my ear. "Give her more." Her mouth shifted along my jaw until it found my neck and she pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses along my skin, drawing out more gasps from me.

Between her mouth on my neck and Austin's mouth on my tits, I was rapidly sinking into a black hole of arousal. As Austin alternated back and forth between each mound and gently scraped his teeth over me, the heat between my legs beckoned for the hard shaft of flesh beneath me. I slowly rocked against him, creating a friction that sent sparks through my core that threatened to ignite me.

Shannon took her mouth off my neck just long enough to say, "That's it... let go..." She slid her hands down across my stomach and tentatively touched her fingertips to the waistband of my panties. My body froze.

What the fuck was I doing? I'd only inserted myself between the two of them to stop Shannon from crossing an uncrossable line and now I was teetering on the edge of that same line myself. I was married just like she was. And yet, here I was half-naked and grinding my panty-covered pussy on my husband's friend's bare cock.

But I was still in control. I hadn't crossed the line yet... not fully. I was still managing the situation. As long as I kept Austin's attention on me and kept myself between the two of them, Shannon couldn't go further. As long as I kept myself perched on the edge of this cliff, Shannon couldn't jump off it. And neither would I.

Shannon's hand slid back up my stomach and touched the underside of my breasts as Austin continued to suckle and tease. "You're so sexy," she said and flicked my earlobe with her tongue.

A long moan escaped my mouth and my head fell back against her shoulder. Despite what I was telling myself, this was a losing battle. My ability to maintain control was slipping away. Austin's hands shifted beneath me and he grabbed his cock. He placed his other hand on the front of my panties and wedged his thumb into the edge of them and began to pull them aside.

The thought of him fucking me was enough to bring reality crashing back against my consciousness with brutal force.

"Cramp!" I shouted and jerked away from him with a theatrical wince. "My leg!" I slid off his lap and pulled myself free from his and Shannon's grasp. I stumbled to Austin's side, holding the back of my thigh in a desperate attempt to make my charade look believable. I fell onto the couch next to him with my heart thundering in my chest as I considered how close I'd come.

"Are you ok?" Austin asked with a look of genuine concern.

But he barely had time to register my absence before Shannon filled the void and dropped to her knees. I looked on, frozen in horror, as she wrapped her fingers around Austin's shaft. She kept her eyes fixed on it as she began to stroke him, her thumb circling the head. She leaned forward and passed her tongue over the head, making Austin slump back against the couch. He let out a loud groan as she opened her grip and licked him from tip to base with a long, slow lap of her tongue. When she brought it back to the tip, she opened her mouth and took him in. She closed her eyes as her lips stretched around his girth and she sank down on him.

"Ohhh... fuck...," Austin groaned. He moved his hands to her hair and laced his fingers through it, despite its short length.

I should've done something other than sit there like a potted plant. I should've stopped her. But I didn't. I couldn't. So, I sat there watching her head bobbing rhythmically on Austin's cock. She alternated between hollowing her cheeks as she sucked and using her hand to stroke him in time with her mouth's slippery movements. She lifted her mouth to the top until just the tip remained between her lips, her hand twisting slightly as it followed her mouth up. She only lingered for a moment before descending again, taking him deep.

Her technique was mesmerizing. For all her proper behavior, she clearly knew her way around a man. A cockswoman to be sure.

I couldn't help rising from the couch for a closer look, completely forgetting that I was supposed to be faking a leg cramp. Austin removed his hands from Shannon's hair and they shot out, faster than I expected, and grabbed me around the waist and pulled me closer to him. He shifted a hand between my legs, cupping me through my panties.

"Don't think I forgot about you," he said. His voice was rough and gravelly.

I should have pushed his hand away. Or stepped back. But I stood there, letting him ply me with his fingers, pressing against the damp patch that had formed despite my best intentions.

Shannon glanced up, her lips still wrapped around Austin. I felt her eyes on me and looked down, suddenly feeling an overwhelming sense of embarrassment even though she was the one on her knees giving a sloppy blowjob.

She pulled her mouth off but continued to stroke him as she spoke. "Don't be shy, Bella. He's very talented."

I opened my mouth to protest and flexed my knees to move away, but Austin chose that moment to slip his fingers beneath the edge of my panties. My words collapsed on themselves and became verbal nonsense as he traced his fingers over my wet folds. His fingers faltered for a moment as Shannon resumed sucking him, but he quickly regained his footing. His thumb found my clit, circling it with just enough pressure to make my knees weak, while his middle finger teased my entrance.

"Oh God... that...," I couldn't get the words out. It was probably for the best. It prevented me from giving voice to what he was doing. So, instead, I put a hand on his shoulder and rotated my hips against his hand.

No real harm had been done up to this point. I'd give him a few more moments, and then I'd bring this whole thing to an end. Just a few more moments.

"Ok, let's try this thing out," Shannon said from between Austin's knees. Her lips were glistening with saliva as she got to her feet and positioned herself to climb onto his lap.

Panic once again surged through me, cutting through the haze of sexual satisfaction. If she did it, if she fucked him, there would be no going back. This would no longer be a drunken, once-in-a-lifetime mistake. It would be a full-blown affair--and I'd be a party to it. And despite everything that had gone on, I knew she'd hate herself in the morning.

I acted on pure instinct and pushed Austin's hand away from my panties before hooking my thumbs into the waistband. I slid them down my legs and stepped out of them before once again wedging myself between Shannon and Austin. I positioned myself standing over Austin's lap with my back to him, blocking Shannon from reaching him. I swiveled my hips in a slow, teasing dance, once again calling upon the seductive talents of my exotic dance history and hoping to keep Austin's attention on me instead of Shannon. She stood by and watched, not looking the least bit annoyed even though I'd cock-blocked her yet again. As I continued to dance, I occasionally lowered myself enough to lightly brush my bare ass against Austin's cock which twitched and throbbed as it stood tall from his lap.

Shannon stepped closer to us. For a moment, I thought she was going to physically push me out of the way to get to Austin. Instead, she leaned toward me and captured one of my nipples between her lips. The unexpected sensation staggered me and almost made me fall onto Austin's cock. Her mouth was softer than Austin's had been. She was more hesitant but seemed to know just the right way to use her mouth. I gasped as she suckled gently and flicked her tongue across the sensitive bud while her hand rose up to cup my other breast. She scraped the fingernails of her other hand along my thigh, tracing delicate patterns on my skin. Slowly, her hand began to rise toward the juncture of my legs.

It was one thing to let another woman briefly put her mouth on my tits, but what she was trying to do now was more than I was comfortable with.

I shifted my hips backward, trying to evade her fingers. This movement had the unforeseen consequence of bringing me closer to Austin. Slightly bent forward as I was, my pussy was lined up just inches from his mouth. His hot breath spread over my wet flesh a split second before I realized the position I'd put myself in. His tongue slipped over my slick folds before I had a chance to move away. The lick was tentative, almost experimental, as if he wasn't sure how I'd taste.

I let out a loud moan and felt myself falling forward, but Shannon took her mouth off my breast and caught me under the arms. Even after she'd steadied me and I regained my balance, she continued to hold me. I wasn't sure whether it was to ensure that I didn't topple over or if it was to prevent me from moving away from Austin.

I turned to look over my shoulder as he licked me again. This was a more deliberate lick as he flattened his tongue and passed it over me with a broad stroke that started just below my clit. His tongue slid over my entrance and gathered my wetness before gliding back up and circling my clit with slow strokes.

In truth, I could've broken free if I really wanted to, but I couldn't get my body to cooperate. Austin's tongue delved into me, parting my lips and dipping inside me before sliding back up to my clit. I was absolutely crossing a line but couldn't step back to the other side of it. At least, not yet. And since I'd already gone this far, I might as well let him have a quick lick or two.

Five more seconds. Five more seconds and I'd make him stop and I'd move away. No real harm done.

I ticked off the time in my head. Five. Four. Three. Two. One.

But I was still there. In fact, I was actually leaning further forward and giving him easier access. I knew his tongue shouldn't be there, but the only thing that mattered in the moment was letting him eat my pussy. He didn't have Miguel's talent and didn't know my body as well as he did, but his technique was more than adequate.

His hands latched onto my thighs, working with Shannon to hold me in place as my body began to writhe between the two of them. As she held me, she began to grope and squeeze my breasts. Her touch on my nipples was light but sent spikes of pleasure down to where Austin's mouth continued to devour me. He alternated between short flicks with the tip of his tongue and longer strokes with the flat side. Precise pokes, then wandering touches. Gentle suction, then hard pinches with his lips.

My hips rotated and swiveled, almost by themselves, grinding my pussy against his face as I sought more. The guilt in my stomach continued to claw at me, but it was no match for the burning arousal in my core. I was vaguely aware of the dancer in the periphery of my vision. She was sitting on the platform with her legs stretched out, having completely given up on her performance. There was something lewd and grotesque about what was taking place, but I was powerless to stop it now. I was going to cum, and there was nothing I could do about it. There was nothing I wanted to do about it.

Austin gripped my ass cheeks and pushed them apart and his tongue zeroed in on my clit, circling it with increasing speed and pressure. The first waves of my orgasm began to build within me, bending me further forward against Shannon as I pressed my pussy against Austin's face. I cried out and slammed my eyes shut, my back arching as the tension reached its breaking point. He wrapped his lips around my clit and gently sucked, pushing me past it.

"Ohhh fuck! That's it! Right there! Fuck!" I screamed a steady stream of expletives as my body shuddered. My orgasm spiraled out of my core and radiated through my body in wave after wave. Shannon held me tight against her as I trembled and my knees buckled. The pleasure from Austin was relentless. He refused to let up and continued to hold me in place by my thighs while his tongue worked me through each orgasmic pulse. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" My vision blurred as the sensations overwhelmed me.

When the pleasure began to border on torture, I pulled an arm away from Shannon and gently pushed away at Austin's forehead. He gave me one last lick from top to bottom before releasing my legs. They felt like they were made of rubber as I took a step forward, using Shannon for support. I moved from around his legs and staggered backward. Shannon helped guide me down to the couch next to him even as my orgasm continued to ripple through my body in violent aftershocks. She released me, and I draped an arm over my face, sucking in air. My body descended into a strange equilibrium as I became aware of every sensation it took in. The feel of the couch against my sweaty skin. The thump of the still-playing music in my ears. The scent of Shannon and Austin in the air around me. A faint wash of colors behind my eyelids. The sweet taste of orgasmic release behind my teeth.

Shannon's voice slithered through my consciousness. "My turn."

I shifted my arm and cracked my eyelids just in time to see her positioned over him with her hands braced on his shoulders. She didn't pause. In one motion, she sank down onto him halfway with a loud gasp.

Austin's hands flew to her hips, steadying her as she rose back to the top and sank back down, taking him deeper. "Ohhhh... shit you're tight," he groaned.

Even as bad as things were in that moment, I should've stopped her from going any further, from making things any worse. I should've spoken up at least. But I laid there watching her impale herself on her husband's friend. As my pulse continued to slow and reality began to seep back into my brain, the emotion spreading through my chest was no longer worry or pity--it was resentment.

Shannon had pulled me into this. This entire night was her fault. She'd started off so judgmental and full of herself. It was the product of a life spent flipping her nose up at people she knew nothing about. And in a matter of hours, it had come crashing down as she finally got a glimpse of what life could be like when you weren't such an insufferable cunt. But it had only happened because she hated what I represented: a free woman living freely, and she wanted to challenge it. And once she got that first small dose of freedom, it went straight to her head. Now, she couldn't come back down. Now, the two of us were down a rabbit hole of bad decisions and broken marriage vows. I'd tried to protect her when I saw where she was headed and ended up getting pulled in with her. Now, as I watched her legs flexing while she bounced on Austin with her head thrown back in uninhibited pleasure, I couldn't muster the will to care anymore. I was done being her guardian angel. Fuck it and fuck her.

Shannon established a rhythm, rising and falling on Austin as her breasts bounced with each movement. Her skin glistened from the exertion and she let out little squeaks as she gave way to infidelity. Austin met her body with upward thrusts of his own while his hands held onto her.

I rolled over and curled up as I continued to watch them like I was watching a movie. In a lot of ways, that's exactly what it felt like--fiction. No way was the woman riding our husbands' friend the same woman who'd come into the club in her long, outdated dress a few hours ago wrinkling her nose at dancers. No way was this the same woman who'd described exotic dancers as desperate women. No way was that the woman who now desperately fucked a man who wasn't her husband, her face contorted with pleasure.

Austin shifted beneath her, slightly changing the angle of his thrusts. Shannon arched her back and tipped her face to the ceiling. "Right there, don't stop." Her voice was almost breathless. Austin moved his hands from her hips to her tits, catching the pale bouncing globes and kneading them roughly. Shannon ground down harder against him. "Mmmmm... so close..." She panted as she continued riding him, but her rhythm began to break down and become erratic. "So close..."

Austin released her breasts and slid his hands down and slapped her ass with both hands. The sharp sound of the dual smack cracked through the music. Shannon yelped but then moaned as he did it again, grinding down even harder on him.

"You like that?" he asked. His voice sounded strained as if he too was close.

"Yes," Shannon breathed.

Austin roughly squeezed her cheeks and then slapped them again. She dug her fingers into his shoulders and kept fucking him as if it was the only thing in the world that mattered anymore.

Did she do that with Robert? Did she ever fully surrender herself with him like this? Did he have any clue that this wild creature lived within his conservative, judgmental wife?

Austin suddenly lifted Shannon off his lap, moving quickly. I thought he was about to cum, but instead, he guided her toward the couch. "Turn around," he growled as he positioned her on her hands and knees next to me. Shannon complied without an ounce of protest and raised her ass toward him. Austin knelt behind her and guided himself back to her entrance. He threw his body against her, rocking her forward with enough force to make her cry out. He pulled back and then slammed in again, driving her face against the back of the couch. This new position allowed him deeper penetration, and he took full advantage, establishing a punishing rhythm that had Shannon burying her face in the couch to muffle her screams. Her pendulous breasts swung beneath her while his hands gripped her hips and pulled her back to meet each thrust. The sound of their smacking skin rose above the music. Whoever these two people had been before they entered this room had evaporated and been replaced by their primal need to indulge in the pleasure offered by each of them.

Shannon lifted her head and let out an ear-piercing screech as her body began to shudder. Her head swung up and down as if she was trying to shake off her orgasm, but it tore through her. Her jaw clenched tight and her forearms flexed as she tried to keep herself upright. A hue of bright pink spread across her cheeks, neck and upper chest. The minor tremor Owen had given her with his fingers was nothing compared to what she was experiencing now.

Her orgasm was enough to set Austin off. He gave her shuddering body a series of quick thrusts that rippled her ass cheeks. "Shit! I'm gonna cum," he grunted. His face was sweaty and twisted in ecstasy.

Shannon turned her head but only managed a series of gasping moans in response. Austin pulled out suddenly and push-pulled her to a sitting position on the edge of the couch while stroking himself with his other hand. He stepped up to her, his wet cock inches from her face and his breath rough and ragged. With a groan that came from deep within his chest, he began to cum. The first spurt streaked across Shannon's cheek. She flinched but didn't move away and another one splashed across and between the lips of her partially open mouth. Several smaller spurts landed on her breasts and open thighs in pearl-white ribbons followed by a last powerful one that shot into the front of her hair.

Austin released his cock and staggered back a step, still breathing hard. Shannon sat looking almost stunned as cum ran down her face and chest in slow trails.

Movement out of the corner of my eye caught my attention. "Time's up," the dancer announced as she got to her feet. Now that the show was over, she wanted us to clear out.

Austin stooped down to pull his pants back up. I rolled off the couch and went to retrieve my scattered clothes. Shannon slowly shifted and got to her feet. Her eyes were out of focus. She turned in place, apparently searching for her clothes. She pulled them on with trembling hands and the motions of a person half-asleep. When we were fully dressed, she drifted across the room toward the door. I stepped in front of her and gestured toward her face.

"Your... umm... face..." I couldn't say the words. I turned to the dancer who was right behind us and looked ready to physically push us out the door if needed. "Do you have any tissues or paper towels?" I asked.

The dancer folded her arms and shook her head. I turned back to Shannon. She couldn't go out there like she was.

"Here, let's try to..." Once again, I couldn't verbalize what Shannon had on her face. Working with her, I had her pull and twist her dress to gather up enough of the material to use the inside of it to wipe off her face. I grimaced as I watched the slimy liquid smear across her face and hair as we worked to clean it off as best as we could. She raised her eyebrows at me, and I nodded to acknowledge that we'd managed to remove the visible evidence. Her skin was still undoubtedly sticky and smelled like cum, but at least upon initial observation, no one would know Austin had just unloaded himself all over her.

When we emerged from the VIP area, I did my best to lift my expression into a bright one. I knew the guys at the table would immediately know something was up if we all came back looking weird. Shannon walked with her head down and moved slowly like a zombie in an apocalyptic landscape. Apparently, the reality of what had happened was finally processing in her mind. It'd be useless to try to get through to her. Austin needed no encouragement to look normal. The wide grin on his face could easily be interpreted as the product of a man who'd gotten a satisfactory lapdance.

As our table came into view, my stomach rolled over. Miguel had his back to us with his arm draped over the back of the seat next to him. His wife's seat. The woman he loved. My seat. How could I have been so irresponsible?

Robert and Owen were consumed in conversation and looked up as we approached. I forced my lips into a smile. Austin strolled past us to return to his seat. "Miss us?" he called out casually as if he didn't just have his tongue buried in my pussy and his cock inside Shannon.

Miguel turned and looked me over. My muscles tensed and I felt like I was in an airport TSA body scanner. He returned my smile after I apparently passed inspection.

Shannon slumped into her seat next to Robert. "Everything ok?" he asked. She nodded silently and picked up a cocktail napkin in front of her. She lifted it as if she was about to use it to wipe her face but thought better of it and began slowly tearing it into thin shreds.

I slid into my seat next to Miguel, and his hand immediately went to my thigh. It was a harmless gesture, one intended for comfort, but it burned like an accusation and I fought the urge to pull away.

"How was it?" he asked, leaning into my body.

"Huh? Oh... you know. Just a regular dance. Same old, same old. Nothing special." I couldn't keep my voice even.

He was going to find out. He'd wonder why I was speaking so quickly. He'd wonder why my skin had a strange glow. He'd be able to smell my orgasm on my skin.

I sat forward and seized my glass and took a long gulp of my drink, ignoring the slight burn of the alcohol. "I need something stronger than this," I said to no one in particular.

Zac clapped Austin on the back. "Enjoy yourself?"

Austin's gaze bounced between me and Shannon. "It was good. They were excellent at keeping me out of trouble." He put an emphasis on the word 'excellent' that no one else seemed to pick up on.

Miguel's thumb traced small circles on my skin. It was a tender touch. Gentle and loving. It made me want to scream. I didn't deserve it after what I'd just done. I covered his hand with mine, hoping my trembling fingers would come across as excitement rather than guilt.

Across the table, Shannon continued her destruction of the napkin, the tiny pieces forming a small pile of confetti on the table. She hadn't touched her drink, she hadn't spoken, and she hadn't even looked at her husband since we'd returned. Her shoulders were curved inward with the weight of what she'd done with three of the other men at the table. She flinched when Robert put his hand on her back between her shoulder blades. The sight of the gesture made my stomach twist. He had no idea. He had no idea that another man's cum was drying on the inside of her dress.

I dragged my attention away. I had my own problems to deal with. I turned my eyes back to Miguel who was back in conversation with the other guys. He was just as oblivious as Robert. Because he trusted me. He loved me. And I'd taken that trust and love and betrayed it. All around me, the club's music pounded in my ears. It was a perfect accompaniment to the guilt pounding in my chest.

Zac drained his drink and slammed it on the table. "Hey, Robert's the only one who hasn't had a private dance yet!"

The table fell silent. Shannon's head finally lifted and her eyes locked onto mine.

Robert laughed, genuinely amused. "No, that's quite alright."

"Come on, man," Owen chimed in. "You're the odd man out. Don't worry, Shannon and Bella will go with you." Even after what he had done with Shannon, he had no clue about the tension he and Zac were creating.

The color drained from Shannon's face. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She was drowning, but I couldn't reach her. I couldn't save her without exposing us both.

Miguel squeezed my thigh. "What do you think, babe? You up for one more dance?"

I absolutely was not. Not after what Shannon and I had just done with Austin. Not with his cum still drying on her tits. Not with Austin sitting across the table with the taste of my pussy on his lips.

"I think--" I began, but my voice caught. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Married men can be trusted right? You went alone. Robert doesn't need anyone to go with him." I averted my eyes from Miguel as I spoke, afraid that his years of knowing me would allow him to see right through me. That he'd realize I was the one who couldn't be trusted. That he'd somehow discover that just minutes ago, I let another man's tongue explore places only he should touch.

My gaze drifted around the table to Robert whose eyebrows were lifted in a mixture of surprise and hope. His declination had been a guise. He wanted a private dance. He just didn't know how to square it with Shannon and absolutely didn't want her tagging along. But I'd given him a way out.

He turned to Shannon. "You sure?" he asked her even though I'd been the one who'd made the suggestion. "I don't mind skipping it."

"No, you should go," she said quickly, finally find her voice. Her shoulders relaxed and her hands stilled for the first time since she'd sat down. "Everyone else did. It's no big deal." She shrugged her shoulders and tipped her chin in an attempt to appear dismissive.

Robert continued to look at her for another moment before slowly pushing his chair back and standing up. "Ok, I guess I'll go for a quick one, then." His voice had a tone of resignation, but I could see the smallest hint of a smile break across his features.

As Robert went off and spoke with a dancer, Shannon immediately reached for her drink and downed half of it in one swallow. Her eyes flicked to the club doors as if considering making a run for it while her husband was gone.

"So," Austin said, "did you ladies enjoy your... chaperone duties?" His gaze rotated from Shannon to me.

I couldn't believe his boldness. What had happened in the VIP room needed to remain in the VIP room. "It was ok. Nothing remarkable," I responded while trying to clear my mind of the memory of Austin's mouth between my thighs. His smile faded as his ego took a hit.

Owen leaned forward. "What a wild night. Never thought I'd see half of what went down tonight." He smirked and glanced at Shannon then raised his glass in a slurred toast. "To Zac's last hurrah!"

Miguel leaned in close to me again. "You're quiet. Everything ok?"

I nodded and forced a smile. "Just tired. It's been a long night."

A long night. Such a simple phrase for what had transpired over the evening.

Across the table, Shannon had once again retreated into herself. She sat with her shoulders hunched while she twisted her wedding ring around her finger. The contrast between her current persona and the one in the VIP rooms was so stark. She'd been so bold, especially with Austin--taking him inside her without hesitation, riding him without a care in the world, and then letting him finish on her face. Even the person who had been sitting at this very table hours ago criticizing dancers was long gone.

As if giving voice to those very thoughts, Austin suddenly spoke up. "I gotta say, Shannon, you're a woman full of surprises. Thank you for... a great evening."

She flinched at his words and offered a half smile. She kept her eyes on the table and picked up another napkin and began to shred it.

Austin started in again. "Seriously, you really should--"

"Leave her alone," I snapped, my voice louder than I intended. "She's tired. We all are."

Austin raised his hands in mock surrender, but the smirk on his face only widened as his eyes settled on me. "Just paying a compliment."

Shannon stood abruptly. "Bathroom," she said simply and then weaved her way through the crowd.

I watched her go, torn between following her and staying at the table to keep up the appearance that everything was normal. By this point, the resentment that had exploded in the room with her and Austin had ebbed and faded into the background to be replaced by concern.

"Think she's ok?" Miguel asked, voicing his own concern.

"Yeah, just too much to drink. She'll be fine."

But she wasn't fine. She might never be fine again. I didn't know her personally, but I knew enough after these past hours to know something had cracked within her tonight. Tomorrow, she might wake up and once again be the stuck-up, ultra-conservative Queen of the PTA, but this evening would stay with her forever. Just as it would with me.

Shannon returned to the table just as Robert strolled out from the VIP area. His hair was ruffled in a way that suggested hands had been running through it, and his limbs swung with the loose movements of a satisfied man. But there was no swagger to it. It was the walk of a pent-up man who had been released. The grin on his face was boyish, almost innocent.

"Well, that was... something," he said as he slid back into his seat. Now that he was closer, I could see a tiny smudge of glitter on his lips and wondered which part of the dancer's body he'd kissed to get it. He put his arm around Shannon and pulled her into a brief side-hug.

Shannon forced a smile. "Did you have a good time?"

Robert laughed and reached for his drink. It was funny how alcohol seemed to be the refuge for all of us after letting ourselves get carried away in the VIP area. "It was... educational," he said and took a sip.

Her jaw tightened for a moment, but she didn't say anything in response. She knew her husband better than me and must've known what I suspected about his private dance. But she also knew she was in no position to call him out on it. Maybe tomorrow would be different. But whatever tomorrow and the future held for the two of them, this night would be an eternal threat to their marriage.

"This night was awesome," Owen said, breaking the momentary peace. "We should do it again for my birthday."

"Count me in, for sure," Austin said. His words made my skin crawl with shame.

"I'll be there to return the favor," Zac said. "Thanks everyone for making this a night to remember."

A night to forget was more like it.

When we made our way out of the club, the cool night air hit me like a smack to the face after spending hours in the club's humid, perfume-soaked atmosphere. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with the refreshing scent of approaching rain. I hoped that when it came, it would cleanse my soul.

I'd messed up. Really, really messed up. I had tried to divide the blame: Miguel for sexually coercing me into coming here in the first place, Shannon for losing her fucking mind, and the other guys for not having enough decency to say 'no.' But in the end, I'd made my own choices and now I had to live with them. Living with them meant keeping them to myself. In the coming days, the guilt would build to the point of being nearly unbearable, and I'd feel compelled to tell Miguel what happened. But if I did, I wouldn't be doing it for him. I'd be doing it for me. By telling him, it would allow me to finally unload the guilt that was already cutting at the edges of my mind. But I didn't deserve to unload it. I deserved to bear it like an unreachable splinter just below the surface of the skin. Perhaps one day I'd be able to forgive myself. But until then, I'd spend every day of my marriage making it up to a husband I loved but wasn't sure I deserved.