After all, it was her idea.
I keep saying that to myself. I don't feel guilty about winning. The anxiety I felt was just apprehension about putting her in a new situation. A situation that I know will challenge her, one that she has rejected before.
I won the bet, however. The deal was simple: if I get two bullseyes in a row at darts, she has to go through with what we previously agreed upon when we get to the club. She probably worked out the math in that beautiful intelligent head of hers. She did not account for how determined I was to be victorious when she calculated the risk of this wager.
And I won.
She smiled at me on the ride over, her gorgeous bare legs crossed tightly in her seat. She held onto my right arm as we drove from the bar to the club. She carried on a conversation as if nothing special was going to happen tonight. But I could feel the tension in her body. Her tanned and toned legs reflected the street lights as they zipped by, tempting my eyes as I drove. They will not look prettier than right at this moment, they will take a lot of abuse this evening. I looked forward to seeing them on the way home with the proof of our fun, in my truck, next to me.
I enjoyed watching her step down out of the truck and shimmy her tight skirt down her incredible thighs. I walked around and held out my arm to escort her through the parking lot. I took a moment to enjoy the view of her ass as we slowly meandered our way across the parking lot to the nondescript entrance of the club. The doorman scanned our IDs, nodded, and gestured for us to walk in.
The darkness of the interior of the club was punctuated by strobes that lit the whole first floor in frozen fractals of people in mid-frivolity. A very primal thump of bass-heavy electronic music was pounding out a wall of sound emanating from the tower of speakers near the dance floor. She leaned over and yelled into my ear, "One more drink. I will need one more drink at the bar first." She was not one to use alcohol as a crutch, but I was putting her in a position where a little more courage may be necessary. I didn't register a challenge to her demand, I simply escorted her to the bar and asked the bartender for two cocktail glasses. I produced my flask and poured ourselves a healthy dose of whiskey-flavored courage. She sat down in the chair next to me at the bar, turning to face the people laughing, having fun, and trying to carry conversations through the music. She sat with her legs crossed tightly.
We pulled at our drinks in almost silence. Every now and again she would look at me and smile. She was a good sport. I enjoyed being with her. Yet, this silence was awkward and difficult. I hated making things hard for her. Although, she did create and agree to the parameters of the bet. This is the justification that kept me firm on the idea of seeing this through. Though let me be honest, if I would have lost, it would be nothing for me to complete her proposed task for me, there are so many beautiful women in this club...
She interrupted my thought and broke my stare at one such voluptuous woman. Her smile was magnetic. Based on how that magnetic smile had transformed her energy from nervous to mischievous, I would guess that the alcohol had done its trick.
"You can back out now." I offered as a truce. Hopefully, my tone was clear and she would not accept my offer.
"No, you won fair and square. Besides, it is time we do more than just look here."
I could not agree more with her. I stood from the bar, offered my hand to her, and we went off on our adventure. We climbed the stairs, watching the topless and near-nude women dancing on the dance floor, consumed by the relentless bass, seemingly letting the rhythm intoxicate them. We walked past the giant bed in the open orgy room with its entangled mass of hedonistic flesh writhing together in open protest to the conformity of societal norms. Based on the whimpers, growls, moans, and groans... it sounded as if their demonstration was going quite well. Along the public room's periphery, darkened figures frantically pleased themselves in the shadows surrounding the roiling mass of pleasured flesh just to emphatically prove the participant's point.
Typically we were in those shadows. We would sit on the dark couch in the corner, watch the fun before us, quietly touching each other, kissing, and stroking ourselves until we had to retreat home to fuck our minds calm from our heightened state. We always vowed to participate in the club's activities. Tonight, with this bet as our excuse, would be the night.
The row of six booths are demarcated by six doors along the hallway that leads to the bigger and more private rooms. The first four doors of the booths were closed. I felt a lump of disappointment starting to rise up in my throat. What if we arrived at the club too late to secure a booth? My question was almost immediately answered by the fourth door, as it was slightly ajar. I opened it cautiously and peeked inside the dark booth, finding it empty. I stepped in, she resisted slightly staying behind in the hallway.
"Maybe, we should wait for next weekend..." she started to offer.
"Oh no, a bet is a bet," my tone was teasing, but I pulled her into the booth with me. As soon as she stumbled in, her five-inch heels caught on the flooring causing her to fall into my arms. My lips almost immediately found hers. I kissed her hard, my excitement could be felt in the urgency of my tongue, I was sure. She surrendered quickly, melting into my arms. I reached down and ran my hand inside her knee and up the smooth flesh of her thigh. I stopped when her excitement was warm and wet against the outside of my hand.
"Someone did not wear panties to the club," I stated matter-of-factly.
