door.
“You’ll do great!” she told me.
With a quick hug and kiss on the cheek, Meredith and her posse left me staring at the door, while I pictured myself sneaking out and hiding in my room until the weekend was over. Unfortunately, I knew that wouldn’t solve anything.
Looked like I had no choice but to go through with this crazy nonsense.
The four of us men stood on the darkened stage a few minutes later waiting for our cue. Dread filled my gut as the seconds ticked on. I did a tour in Afghanistan for Christ’s sake. Why the hell was I so nervous to get up on stage in front of a few hundred people?
The second the first note of the song played, the bottom dropped out of my stomach and I fought the bile threatening to rise up my throat. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath just as the curtain rose and the spotlight hit my face.
Showtime.
“Mmm, yeah!” I lip synced into the microphone standing in front of me.
The others followed with the do, do, do’s.
“Tonight...”
When the first verse of “I Was Made For Lovin’ You” by KISS started, I threw caution to the wind and decided to give it my all. If I was going to look like an ass, I might as well try and be the best ass I could be. Of course the multiple shots I downed before stepping up on stage went a long way to getting me in the mood as well.
Each of us channeled the singers we were playing as we shimmied and sang across the stage.
Drake flicked his tongue out in true Gene Simmons style, humping the air and making the women scream.
Calvin and Jase worked the crowd, moving from one side to the next as pairs of panties came flying onto the stage.
Remembering Meredith’s bet, I realized I needed to turn my game up a notch if I wanted her to win. The others had lost their shirts as well, but I decided to take it one step further. Whipping my t-shirt off, I spun it around and threw it into the audience. I watched as a small group of women all dove for it.
Tempering my fear that I would never see my shirt again along with my desire to laugh at how crazy it all was, I turned around and shook my ass from side to side.
My date to the prom had once told me that dancing was basically like mimicking sex. Using that advice, I closed my eyes and gyrated and moved my hips pretending to make love to a woman.
The crowd roared in approval and instead of being embarrassed like I thought I would, I felt a swell of pride move through my chest. Between that and the adrenaline pumping through my veins, I felt untouchable. Like I could do anything.
By the second verse, I was surprised to find I was actually enjoying myself.
As the sweat trickled down my spine, I spun around and dipped low onto the stage channeling my best Magic Mike impersonation.
I crooked my finger at a pretty little brunette in the front row. She came closer, taking my hands, and I lifted her up onto stage with me. Standing behind her, I drew her left arm up, hooking it around my neck. My fingers danced up and down her soft skin as I pressed my hips into hers from behind. Using my free hand on her hip, I moved her body with mine sensually.
Grinding against her and lost in the moment, I dipped my head to her neck and inhaled her sweet floral scent. Between my adrenaline rush and the alcohol zinging through my veins, I couldn’t help but take a quick taste of her salty skin.
“Oh God,” she muttered when my tongue made contact.
Things between us went no further though when we were joined on the stage by several women with leather whips.
What the fuck?
When the background music sounded like a whip, each woman cracked theirs at the floor by our feet.
Fear shown in Drake’s eyes when the woman next to him almost made contact with his boot.
Jase continued to ham it up for the crowd, completely oblivious to the dominatrix display going on around him.
It was Calvin though that used it to his benefit. He bent over, welcoming the woman to strike him across his ass. When the whip came
Jeffrey M. Schwartz, Sharon Begley