Rosanna's phone buzzed, distracting her from the contract she was reviewing.
Glancing down at the notification, she saw the familiar 'TS'.
Hey. Do you Brits have bachelorette parties? X
Rosanna picked up her phone and tapped out a reply.
Hey to you too. We call them hen parties, but yeah, same deal. Xx
Rosanna returned to her work.
The phone buzzed again.
Are there strippers? X
Rosanna smiled to herself.
There can be. Mainly in the hunky male line though. Xx
Oh. Can't have everything I guess. I have just the thing. Tell Greg you're working late, I'll pick you up at eight. Xx
Rosanna sighed wistfully. Seven hours to wait...
Her phone buzzed once more. A picture.
She tapped on the notification and revealed a close-up picture of some instantly recognisable red lips, pursed in a kiss.
***
Rosanna, having stopped in the partners' bathroom to touch up her makeup, strutted confidently out of the office lobby towards the waiting cab. She was dressed in her buttoned-up lawyerly best, her dark grey tailored trouser suit matched with black stiletto heels.
The black door of the taxi opened, and Rosanna slid inside onto the leather seat.
"Hello lover", Taylor said, kissing her lightly on the lips. "No dress for me today?"
"Hello. It's a work day, as you well know!"
Rosanna kissed Taylor back, and instinctively found her toned thigh with a hand.
Taylor firmly removed it.
"Oh no, not tonight. It's teasing only from me..." she purred.
Rosanna pouted prettily.
"That's no fun."
"Just you wait."
And the car sped off into the London night.
***
By the time the car pulled up outside a black Georgian front door, in a deserted Mayfair side street, Rosanna was already exceedingly worked up.
For the entire half hour cab ride, Taylor had been licking and nibbling at her neck and her ear, whispering filthy fantasies and obscene suggestions into Rosanna's ear.
She had pawed, stroked and squeezed Rosanna every metre of the journey, raising her to a dripping wet frenzy.
Rosanna couldn't quite remember how many times she had begged Taylor to tear off her knickers and fuck her in the back of the taxi, but it must have been at least twenty or thirty.
She was almost relieved when Taylor skipped out of the taxi, and led her to the door.
"What is this place? I don't think I know it?"
"A club. A fun one. Trust me."
And in they went.
***
When Taylor had said "a club", Rosanna had pictured some plush private members' club.
This was not that. It was certainly plush, but it seemed staffed exclusively by willowy young women in complicated looking lingerie. Dotted through the main room were poles, and small stages, most of which were occupied by dancers in varying stages of undress.
"You've brought me to a strip club?" Rosanna giggled.
"Just wait and see. There's a little more too it than tha-Oh! There she is!"
Suddenly, Taylor waved across the room.
One of the waitresses waved back.
Rosanna's jaw dropped. The girl was heartbreakingly beautiful. Tall and willowy, with pale skin and long red hair, in a shade that couldn't possibly be natural. Her face was high cheekboned and recognisably Slavic. She wore a dark green lace bra, matching high cut briefs, black stockings, and a pair of vertiginous black heels. She had the bearing of a runway model, and a body that made Rosanna think deeply sinful thoughts.
"Is she..." Rosanna asked hesitantly.
"For you? Oh yes!"
Rosanna downed the rest of her wine. This was promising.
***
"Isn't she gorgeous?" Taylor crooned. "I asked for her specially. Her name is Irina, I think she's from Russia or Ukraine or something. Let me just go and handle the admin..."
And she swayed across the floor of the club towards Irina.
Rosanna watched as Taylor and Irina conversed quietly just out of earshot, Taylor occasionally giggling, Irina nodding thoughtfully.
In the background she saw other girls gyrating, almost all for the benefit of sallow, suited men in well-stuffed armchairs, leering greedily.
The atmosphere was heavy with sexual possibility.
