“Like what,” I murmured.
“I don’t know. Like, do the girls give a hand job or something?” She laughed nervously.
“Why don’t you go back there and find out?” I asked with a chuckle.
“Oh, shoot no,” she said, her Canadian accent on full display. “I couldn’t do that. I’ve lived vicariously through you for too long.”
“Are you saying you don’t know how to give a hand job anymore?” I teased.
“All my sexual charms are reserved for Monty,” she raised her nose in the air in mock distaste before breaking out into a giggle at the look I gave her.
In college, we had some wild times at frat parties and sorority parties. We had always shared our sexual encounters: all of our firsts, our worsts, and our what-the-fuck moments. We hadn’t shared as much during the last ten years. Her marriage, though, seemed to always work out. Monty adored her and Carol loved him. It wasn’t a bad formula. For them.
“I’m sure they are,” I replied with a grin.
“Well, you’ve been complaining about your lack of sex so much for the last year. Now’s your chance.” Carol said.
“He’s a total stranger.”
“Even more exciting.”
“Carol. Really?”
“Yes. Monty and I role play sometimes. He pretends to be a sheik and I play his new harem…”
“That’s not the same thing,” I said, interrupting Carol. I could see her in a harem outfit.
She wasn’t fit and thin like me. Carol had more of a voluptuous curvy body type. It still turned heads, especially when she chose to put her cleavage on display. It had always turned Monty’s and I had caught Ass-Hat drooling over her at a dinner party many times.
“My point is that a sexual encounter with a stranger is quite exciting. Exhilarating even.”
“I will not get excited over a stranger, Carol.”
She gave me her I-can-smell-bullshit look.
“And you’re lying Reggie. Not just to me, but yourself. You’ve been all moon-eyed and in a daze since you came back here.”
She was right. And I knew it. His touch had electrified me. I was totally aroused over Mr. Dark Eyes.
Dancing on stage, seeing men get hard looking at my body while I danced for them thrilled me. Honestly, it felt like winning a beauty pageant or being named Homecoming Queen, except that the sensation was heightened. Something about dancing naked for a man, for men, seemed to ignite my libido. I wanted to go back there with Mr. Dark Eyes. I just didn’t know what held me back.
I hugged myself tight as I decided. I could feel my hard nipples pressing against the fabric. A tingling sensation rippled through my gut and into my pussy. I not only wanted to give this guy a lap dance, I wanted to do more with him.
That is what scares me.
“Okay, no backing out. I’m just going to go back there. Give him a lap dance. Let him rub his face between my breasts. Rub my ass on his crotch. Get him hard and then leave.”
“You’re such a tease,” Carol replied with a grin.
“And I’ll get my bra back and five-hundred dollars.”
“Yes! You’ve got this.” Carol held up her hand for a high five. I obliged and blushed at the absurdity of the situation.
I’m a fucking sex therapist. I deal with people with sexual hang-ups, sexual dysfunction, couples struggling sexually every day. And now I’m about to take a total stranger into the Cherry Pit for a private lap dance. I stood up and balanced myself on my high heels.
“I expect a full report afterward over drinks and dinner. All the details.” Carol gave me a big hug as she gave me my instructions and offered a huge grin.
“Of course,” I said, my mind already slipping into that haze of overwhelm one experiences when they enter unknown territory.
