by Rosemary Rey
When the mixed music changed to a slow song, Carson picked me up and held me in his arms as he turned. I looked toward the exit, and saw a figure turning away from the glass door. I couldn’t see who it was. Maybe the person was entranced by our dancing. It felt pretty hot from my end, so I’m sure the viewer got quite a show.
“I think we had an audience.” I informed. He slowly brought me down his body letting my toes touch the floor. We laughed and smiled.
“I miss dancing with you.” He said wistfully.
“I miss dancing with you too. We’ll dance together at your wedding. I get the third dance.” I said.
“The third dance?”
“Yeah. Turner gets the first. Your mom gets the second. And I get the third. Not your sister. Me.” I poke him on the chest and rose up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I take it you’re here to work out.”
“Yeah. I still have to keep my girlish figure.” He patted his nonexistent belly.
I smirked, “Ugh. I hate you.” I winked and he laughed. “I’m going home to catch up on sleep.”
“You’re still working seven jobs?”
“Carson, I have four. And yes. I am. I had to buy my freedom from dickhead, so I have to work to live and pay off my debts. But I’m thinking of quitting the Inn when I get the full time position here. I’m still on probation with reduced hours. I’m just not sure if I can leave Alice and Ross. I owe them so much and the Inn is doing so well. I’d hate for it to regress.” I said. I grabbed my things and turned off the stereo system. We walked toward the exit.
“Just take it easy. I know you need to work to live, but you need to relax too. Stress can make you sick.” He took my hand in his and walked out holding hands. I felt like a school girl being led from class by the school jock.
“I intend to take it easier soon. I like working here and teaching a couple of fitness classes. I get to spend time with Chelz. I’ll get to see you more around here when you get the job.”
“If I get the job. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Okay, ‘if’. Dancers are so damn superstitious.” I bump him with my hip.
When we arrived at the entrance of the women’s locker room, right beside the men’s locker room, we hugged once more. He pulled away and said, “I love you, Perlz.” In that moment, Dashing walked out of the men’s locker room. He glanced over at us, and we locked eyes. He straightened his posture and I could see the muscles on his jaw tense. While he walked slowly away, his gaze turned away from me as he adjusted his backpack on his shoulder.
I felt a twinge of guilt when I responded, “I love you too, Carse.” Carson gave me a kiss on the cheek. Dashing was still close enough to hear my response. I turned to walk away and cursed the God’s for the timing. I was gutted that I didn’t have a chance to greet Dashing. I would’ve liked to have heard his deep voice once more. I’ve dreamed about getting a smile out of him. I couldn’t help but want more, imagine more, and need more.
I went home. I thought about Dr. Dashing once again as I touched all the places where his large hands trailed on my body, and I caressed the other places where I wanted him to touch. Instead of feeling gratification, I felt more empty and alone, needing something more to fill the void. ‘Who knows, I might get lucky on Friday night’, I reasoned.
FOUR
On Friday, most of the girls met at Duration after our shift ended. Chelz and I showered, changed, and did our hair and makeup in the locker room. Patty and Marta were already waiting at the front desk area. We were going to meet Keta and Darby at the restaurant because they were to make sure our table was ready.
We decided to eat at a great restaurant in the South End; a Chinese, Caribbean fusion, “Cocorico”, created by family of Marta who were Puerto Rican of Chinese descent. The food was fabulous and I refused to stuff myself because my tight green dress was not stretchy enough for bloat. I made a mental note to return in the future, even if it was a splurge. I paid the bill with money that the five bridesmaids pooled to pay for dinner, transportation, and the expense of drinks at the club.
We all climbed in the Limo and chatted on the drive to Lumiere. The excitement was intoxicating. The girls opened up a bottle of champagne and started passing flutes filled with the bubbly treat. I took one sip in a toast, but I decided that I wouldn’t drink at dinner, but would imbibe at the club.
It was a bit chilly out as we exited the limo and walked to the entrance. I wrapped my shawl around my face covering up from the biting night. It was our great fortune to have been listed on the VIP list at the club entrance and reserved seating at a VIP lounge. Darby’s sister works for the management team of the club owners.
We went right through and were greeted by one of the associates, whom walked us to the coat check. The six of us shrugged out of our trench coats. We kept our shawls in case the club was cold with the piped in air. I held onto my sparkly clutch and linked arms with Keta. She and I are usually connected at the hip when we’ve gone dancing. We were lead to the reserved lounge area. The club was loud with the upbeat music. The lighting was dark with lots of wavy, multicolored lights randomly spotlighting sections of the club and its many dancers. Even at this early hour of ten, it was filled with dancers, drinkers and gazers standing by the bar.
The lounge area was a large, semicircle sectional couch with a center table. The oval center table was made of wood outlined by thick glass. It looked like a stage, great for dancing. I pointed it out to Chelz and winked. “No”, she mouthed while waving her hands. I nodded and I mockingly ran my tongue over my upper lip. We broke out in laughter.
I decided to wait until we were all sufficiently inebriated. I don’t drink often, but tonight was going to be a change from my boring routine. I’d been waiting for two years to celebrate the end of Chelz’s single status. I was going to drink, dance, and if I attracted the attention of a hot guy, I was going to allow myself to do naughty things with him.
The waitress took our drink order for bottle service. We ordered tequila and something fruity and feminine as well. I looked around the club to people watch. Mostly, a lot of men were milling about, generally in packs, holding their drinks and staring at the women dancing. Our girl code was not to make eye contact with the male beasts for they will stampede and ask for a dance or to buy a drink, or claiming that he found ‘the one’. Mostly, a man in the club wants a good fuck and hopes she’s drunk enough to at least give him head. The women were clustered in groups of at least three, and they scanned the room for potential mates. Usually they turn away suitors just because there’s a creep factor in meeting a mate at a club. Women will dance with each other seductively because it’s safer, seductive, and ego boosting.
I pulled Darby and Keta up to dance around the center table. I wasn’t yet ready to climb up the table to dance. I’d have to get a few drinks in me to loosen up enough to make a spectacle of myself. The DJ seamlessly mixed a variety of hip hop, electronic, disco and reggaeton music.
Our drinks arrived and were set down on the center table, the bottle and the shot glasses were placed at the end of the couch on a side table. We all took our martini glasses and offered ‘cheers’, clinking our glasses together and drinking. As I took a sip and swayed to the music, I turned to take a look at the club. I saw a group of four men walking to an empty lounge area four stations away. They were all really handsome, but the last man was familiar. He had been in my fantasies for the last few days. Dr. Dashing. He sat at the end of the couch and crossed his leg. He seemed so relaxed, smiling and laughing with his friends. I was stunned in place.
The waitress walked over and took their order. After she walked away to fill their order, he looked around the club. As his view turned toward our direction, I turned around and whispered to Keta that Doctor Dashing was seated straight ahead at twelve o’clock. Keta looked and smiled, immediately turned to Darby and told her. Darby beamed and walked over to Chelz who was sitting on the couch talking to Patty and Marta. She bent over and whispered. Chelz immediately
popped her eyes up and looked over to see Dashing, and she proceeded to tell both Patty and Marta, whom whipped their necks to the location where he sat. Could it have been more obvious? I was sure that he felt all eyes on him coming from the desperate bridal party directly before him.
I dared not look and continued drinking and dancing with my back away from him. He wouldn’t recognize me anyway. Besides, a hot guy like him is sure to have a girlfriend. Sure enough, Keta leaned into my ear and told me that three women approached his lounge area, and that one of them sat beside him, which confirmed my suspicion that he was attached. My hopes for a sexual encounter with Dashing plummeted in that instant. I dared not look at him for fear that tears would well up in my eyes and I’d run out in a jealous rage, which makes absolutely no sense because there was no cause for jealousy.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to look at them. There was a very pretty blonde woman seated next to him. She was Amazonian: tall and slender, wearing a red shimmery dress. I felt a pang of disappointment. I’d hoped that after a few drinks, I’d summon the courage to go up to him and at least say ‘hi’. It was a moot point now that I saw him sit close to the Blonde, and watched as he put his lips close to her ear to talk.
I leaned into Keta and said, “No one that hot would be single.” I shrugged and continued dancing.
We poured each other shots. I downed mine, and felt the burn down my chest, warming me all over. My nipples pearled as the liquid tingled and heated my body. I placed my shot glass on the table. The music moved me to dance, shaking and swaying my hips. When I felt a strong grip at my elbow, I hoped it was Dashing. However, the hand wasn’t the soft, large hands that I remember touching my legs and my hips. When I turned to face the man, my face became serious. He stood at about five feet, six inches, which is my height in bare feet. I stood over him with my four inch platform heels. I looked down at him. He wasn’t unattractive, but definitely wasn’t my type. He wasn’t enough to leave my girls for a drink or a dance.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asked.
“No, thank you. I’m sorry. This is girls’ night out and we aren’t here to mingle with anyone else. Have a great night.” I said without a hint of a smile.
“Oh, come one. Can I just have a dance?” He persisted.
“No, thank you. If you will excuse us, this is a private party.” My tone slightly less patient, but still maintaining my cool, I turned around and continued dancing with Keta and Darby. I didn’t see if he walked away, but the girls’ eyes coming back to me told me that he left.
The girls poured another round of shots. Within a few minutes, the waitress came back with another round of martini glasses filled with a light green drink. We raised our glasses in honor of the bride to be, and took a drink. I took a sip and put mine down. I asked Keta and Darby if they wanted to go to the dance floor. They nodded in excitement. Darby led the way, each of us holding hands in a chain toward the stairs that led to the dance floor. As I approached the stairs, I looked over to the lounge area where Dashing and his friends were sitting. To my surprise, he was looking in our direction, and I could detect an acknowledging grin. I extended a soft smile, nothing more, knowing he was there with someone made me resist the urge to flirt. I ran my hand over my hair and pulled it over my shoulder; an act of security that I’ve done over the years when I’m nervous.
I looked down to take the stairs and walked with the girls. As I walked down, I felt a hand tug at my waist, pulling me around. I looked and saw that the hand was attached to a handsome man with big muscles underneath his tight shirt. I couldn’t help but think that he spent most of his time at the gym and held very little interest in anything but weight lifting, beer, and sex. He must have a small penis, I deduced.
“You’re hot. Dance with me.”
I looked him up and down with irritation. “Is that a command or a question? Because I’m not going to accept either.” I pulled myself away.
I continued to walk with my girls to the floor. We danced through a couple of songs. Men that were already dancing with girls came over to us and tried to grind behind us. We moved away from each random man that thought we were desperate to feel his penis on our asses.
Once the song changed to a slower Reggae beat, which usually beckons a man to grind into a woman’s ass, we walked away from the dance floor to sit with Chelz and the rest of the girls. The walk back to our lounge area was no easier. I was asked for a dance, offered drinks, grabbed by the hips, and a marriage proposal was thrown in. I no longer wondered why I refused to go dancing. A woman can’t have fun without being approached aggressively. My extreme annoyance at being groped put my blinders up as I walked up the stairs and I didn’t even look over at Dashing.
When we arrived at the table, we found water for us to drink. It was very much needed after dancing in a mass of overheated and horny people. We sat and talked loudly in each other’s ears. I drank half the bottle and then took a few sips of the green appletini that I’d left on the table.
After ingesting so much liquid, I asked the girls to come with me to the restroom. Keta offered to go with me. I grabbed my clutch and I took her hand and led the way. As we passed by Dashing’s lounge, he looked up at me and gave me the most heart stopping smile, and the affect was duly noted by the pulse in my clit. I smiled back. I noted that his date and the other women were not seated on the couch. Dashing was talking to a guy that stopped speaking as soon as he saw me and his eyes took time to take in my image. His face became rather serious as I walked by. I felt a chill and lowered my head to watch the path I was walking.
When I pulled the doors open to enter the ladies’ room, I held the door for the three model-types that exited. I recognized them to be Dashing’s girlfriend and those of his companions. They were beautiful. Suddenly, I felt vertically challenged and was more aware of my curves than I’d ever have. Before I saw these women, I’d never felt sexier than I did tonight in my green dress. Now, I felt like a large, green ogre. I rolled my eyes and Keta grimaced in acknowledgement of my thoughts. We waited a bit before we were able to get our own stalls. I was able to pull myself together as we talked about how much fun we were having. I got a stall and quickly relieved myself, feeling more comfortable. I went to the sink and washed my hands. I assessed my makeup in the mirror and decided to touch up my lipstick, which had slightly worn off from the drinks. When Keta finished washing her hands, we walked back to our reserved space.
On return, Patty poured us another shot. After downing my second shot, or third, I thought it was time to give the bride-to-be a lap dance. I walked around the glass coffee table, shaking my hips and pointing my index finger at her. The other girls squealed, stood up, and pump their arms in the air. Chelsea sat while waving her arms in a "no" motion. She’s so prim and demure that I knew she would be embarrassed as hell to have me do a lap dance in the club at her bachelorette party.
She screamed, laughed and covered her eyes as I put my hands on her knees, stooping my breast toward her face and swaying my hips from side to side. I repeated the motion, and took one hand off her face, placing it on my hip. I turned my body and pumped my rear in front of her. I felt a few slaps each time I moved from side to side. When I looked over to the girls at the left and the right of me, they were laughing and clapping. I turned and seductively put my nose to her nose and grinned. Her hands clapping back to her face.
I sat at the edge of Chelsea's closed lap, and began to writhe. I spread my legs to their widest point, popped my hips and ass up. I held onto my shins and I wriggled my ass toward her face. She slapped my behind with one hand, tentatively. I turned around and saw that she had her eyes closed with the other hand. While on her lap, I crossed my legs and placed my arm around her neck. The liquid courage that she’d consumed loosened her up and allowed her to hold onto my waist, steading me on her knees.
I turned and leaned my torso back, arching severely so that my head rested on her shoulder. I wriggled seductively on her body, and writhed on he
r knees to the beat of the music. The girls were chanting Chelsea’s name. Her hands slid down my hips. I smacked her hands. I squatted in front of her, and I put up a finger wagging “no” while mouthing, “No touching.” She smiled and looked over my shoulder. The smile on her face faded and looked perplexed.
I noticed that the chanting stopped in waves. I felt a large hand grab my wrist. I immediately thought one of the bouncers was trying to stop me from dancing so provocatively. I was fully dressed and didn’t show any more skin than the go-go dancers on the stage and platforms, but this club was not that type of venue. I looked from Darby on my left to Chelsea in front of me. Their mouths were agape.
My vision turned to the source of the manhandling. It was Dr. Keene. His face, looking dark and serious, had no hint of a smile at the spectacle that I created. He tugged at my wrist and pulled me toward him. He turned to walk away with my wrist in his vice grip. The girls gave us space to walk out of our lounging area. They looked at him with wide eyes in surprise.
He walked so fast that when I almost tripped in my heels, I tugged at my wrist. He stopped to wait for me to straighten myself out, continuing to keep a hold of me. With his right arm, he grabbed me around the waist, pulling me close to his body, to steady me as walked along. He smelled incredible, a mix of a woodsy cologne and his natural musky smell from the heated club. Once I was balanced, he let go of my torso and grabbed my hand, leading me to the dance floor. I relished his touch, not wanting him to let me go. His large hands dwarfed mine, and were warm to the touch. I wondered why he was giving me the time of day. I was sure that he would notice my sweaty palm.