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There’s a line of people on the carpet outside of the building, though, and some of their outfits, which I glimpse beneath barely secured coats, are even more scandalous than what Jacquelyn is wearing.
I’m worried about the wait, since I’m one gust of wind away from an embarrassing wardrobe malfunction, but Jacquelyn bypasses the line, slipping a card to the doorman. He lets us in immediately, and I have to feel a little impressed by whoever her connection is.
Inside, we hand our coats off to a beautiful woman dressed in a black tuxedo. She eyes our outfits critically before nodding and directing us to the next door.
“Told you our outfits are fire,” Jacquelyn says, flipping her hair over her shoulder.
I follow her into a spacious bar area with a dance floor. If I didn’t know it was a sex club we were going to tonight, I wouldn’t have guessed it from this area.
Everyone is dressed to err on the side of risqué, just like Jacquelyn and me, and the music is a tantalizing mix between swanky and percussive, driving beats. But although there are plenty of gyrating bodies, none of them are engaged in particularly lewd acts.
Jacquelyn takes me by the hand and leads me to the bar.
“What do you think?” she asks, signaling to the bartender.
“I thought there would be more sex,” I admit, sending her into peals of laughter.
“Just you wait,” she promises. “Richard—that’s the guy I’m meeting—told me about this place. Out here is tame, like stretching before you run a race.”
“I’d know that laugh from anywhere.”
A man in a nice suit sidles up to Jacquelyn, who squeals and throws her arms around his neck.
“I was just about to call you,” she says. “Richard, this is my old roommate from college, Sophie.”
He laughs as I hold my hand out politely, and instead of shaking it, he brings it to his lips for a kiss. “Tell me the truth, Sophie. She wasn’t going to call me, was she? She just wanted an invite to Club Noir so she could get in and fuck whoever she wants.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jacquelyn protests, giggling. “I mean, you’re right about one thing. I’ll do whatever I want tonight. Whoever I want.”
She lowers her lids and looks at Richard from beneath her lashes. Heat burns in his eyes, and he pulls her close, his hands sliding roughly over her ass. I glance away, my cheeks burning.
God, I’m so out of my depth. It’s becoming a struggle to get myself to stay here.
“You two beautiful girls belong on the dance floor,” Richard announces, finally releasing Jacquelyn. “Let me get you a drink, then let’s make it happen.”
“Oh, yes,” Jacquelyn squeals, clapping her hands. “Tequila, this time!”
“Oh, uh, I don’t think so,” I say, holding up my hands. “One more shot might do me in.”
“Lightweight,” Jacquelyn complains, but lets it go. I’m sure she figures she’s pushed me enough to get me to come here tonight.
After she and Richard both do a shot, we head out onto the dance floor. I try to lose myself in dancing, going with the flow of the music and the beat, but it’s hard to play third wheel to Jacquelyn and Richard.
My ex-roommate is grinding back into Richard, practically letting him dry hump her ass and taking things to a level I’m not sure she would’ve dared to at a regular club. All of the movement is making the flimsy straps of her dress slip out of place, baring even more of her body, but neither she nor Richard seem to care at all.
Neither do the dancers around them, several of whom shoot them appreciative, hungry looks.
Are those people voyeurs? Do some of them come here just to watch other people fucking, rather than participating themselves?
“Let’s go,” Richard says after a while, as the DJ transitions into another song. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
My heart thuds with nerves, but Jacquelyn nods enthusiastically. We venture deeper into the club, past another doorman who studies us before inclining his head toward Richard. He must be a regular here, because I’d bet Jacquelyn and I alone would’ve invited more scrutiny.
The next space is darker. The music is more sultry, and although there’s another dance floor, a lot of the dancers are topless—men and women included. Their bare skin is illuminated in brief flashes of lights, which is also how I notice what can only be described as … additional stages.
They dot the area around the main stage, some of them elevated, and others sunken.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, my voice drowned out by the thump of the music.
