Page 35 of The List
When I made up the ‘I kissed a girl’ fantasy for my sisters, I was playing to the cliché. What wild girl in her twenties hasn’t toyed with the idea of a little same-sex flirtation?
Well, me. Because I’m not a wild girl. Not yet, anyway.
But I kinda want to be.
“I’m going up there.” I get to my feet before I have a chance to think about it. On shaky legs, I make my way to the edge of the stage. The song has just ended, and one dancer is scooping up armfuls of cash while another cleans the pole with spray disinfectant.
I don’t know why, but this makes me giggle. My sisters are forever whipping out their antibacterial hand sanitizer, passing it around a table like their version of a crack pipe. The thought of strip club employees being this hygiene-conscious tickles my funny bone in a way that solidifies my desire to sit here. To see what happens when I do.
A slender dancer with long, black hair and impossibly high heels takes her spot at the pole. As I stare up at her, she catches my eye and smiles.
“Hi there,” she says.
“Uh, hi,” I say, or at least I try to say it. My voice seems stuck. But I do manage a smile as I wonder if it’s okay to keep staring at her. Probably, since she’s on stage and all. I can’t help admiring the pale blue lingerie set she’s wearing. It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask where she got it, but I decide that might break strip club etiquette.
Someone sits down beside me, and I look over to see Tiara Girl. Relief washes through me that it’s not some creepy dude. It’s not Simon, either, which I appreciate. He must know I need to do this part alone. He’s not pushing or leering. Just hanging back and offering silent support.
“I forgot to introduce myself,” says Tiara Girl. “I’m Kristin.”
“Cassie.”
“Nice to meet you, Cassie. I’m here for my sister’s bachelorette party.”
Something about that personal detail gives me comfort.
I glance back at the sister, who looks tipsy and cheerful and a lot like Kristin. I wonder about their relationship and whether it’s anything like mine with Missy and Lisa.
“Thanks for sitting with me,” I whisper, turning back to Kristin.
“Thanks for being ballsy enough to sit here. I’ve wanted an excuse to try this all night.” She reaches down and gives my hand a squeeze. “Don’t be nervous. It’s fun.”
I feel a shiver of excitement as the song starts. It’s some techno number I recognize as a recent hit, and I push my two-dollar bill across the edge of the stage. The dancer does a few twirls around the pole, gripping it with her thighs to do an upside-down spiral to the bottom. I’m as awestruck by her core strength as I am by her perky little breasts, which are on full display as she wriggles out of the sheer blue bra and tosses it aside.
The music throbs, and I tear my eyes off the dancer to see what’s happening around us. A waitress hustles past with a sloshing tray of drinks. Off to the right, a meaty bouncer grabs a tipsy-looking guy by the arm and says something that makes the guy frown. The air smells like perfume and French fries, and I’m a little dizzy from all the flashing lights.
“Here we go,” murmurs Kristin. “Your guy is gonna love this.”
I look back at the stage and get smacked with a burst of excitement. I don’t know about my guy, but I feel a twitch of desire watching the dancer crawl across the floor on all fours, headed straight for me.
She meets my eyes and smiles, and I hear myself give a soft whimper. Nervousness or excitement? I’m not sure which.
“Hello,” the dancer purrs. “May I?”
I don’t know what she’s asking, but I feel myself nodding. She must know from my deer-in-the-headlights look that I’m a newbie, because her smile turns almost kindly as she reaches for me.
“Oh, very nice,” she murmurs as she leans in close. I feel her lips on my ear and her hair tickling my neck as her hands trail slowly over my collarbones. She seems to hesitate for a moment, probably waiting for me to pull back. To say no, this isn’t what I want.
But it is.
I gasp as she slips her hands all the way down the front of my dress and into the cups of my bra. Her fingers are gentle as she glides them over my nipples and purrs into my ear again. “You smell good.”
“Um,” I manage with a thread of desire twirling through the clanging nerves in my center. My heart is pounding in my ears, or maybe that’s the music. This is all so different. So new to me.
The dancer’s lashes tickle my earlobe as her thumbs graze my nipples again. My body hums with pleasure, and I glance left to see Simon watching with undisguised appreciation.
The dancer moves back, slipping her hands out of my dress more hastily than she put them there. She smiles at me again, a saucy expression that seems to say, “how was that?”
I nod and smile back as I shove my whole pile of two-dollar bills onto the stage. I’m more turned on than I expected to be, and I glance back at Simon again, wondering if he’s noticed.
