On a sunny Sunday morning, as the church bells rang for those attending mass, my boyfriend suggested we go out for coffee before heading to his parents' house for lunch. He asked me to dress nicely, so I chose a light floral summer dress. The fabric, a soft, airy chiffon, fluttered just above my knees, and the pale pink blooms scattered across a white background gave the dress a delicate touch. I completed the look with a pair of new simple sandals before walking out of the bedroom.
My boyfriend stood in the hallway, dressed in jeans and a black fitted shirt that highlighted his lean physique, looking as delicious as one could imagine. However, his brow furrowed as he examined my outfit, clearly not pleased as I had hoped.
"That's what good girls wear," he remarked, a frown creasing his forehead. "I had something sexier in mind."
"Not for lunch with your parents," I shot back.
He paused, then nodded slightly. "Fair point. But how about swapping the sandals for heels?"
I sighed as he reached for a leather jacket hanging nearby. With a nonchalant shrug, he slipped it over his shoulders, and I obediently switched into heels before we left.
As we drove away from the city, the scenery changed from bustling city streets to stark, industrial outskirts. The buildings became plain and utilitarian, unlike the cozy cafes I had imagined for our coffee date.
He eventually parked next to an unremarkable building, identifiable only by a worn sign advertising a popular beer brand. This didn't seem like the place for a relaxing morning coffee, but I followed him inside, curious to see what awaited us.
As we transitioned from the bright sunlight to the dim interior, my eyes struggled to adjust to the sudden darkness. My boyfriend confidently led the way, drawing aside a heavy black curtain that revealed a large room, starkly empty at this hour. The space was scattered with tables positioned around central poles that jutted from the floor, hinting at the room's usual nighttime activity, and music throbbed softly in the background.
A middle-aged man with a rugged look noticed us from behind the bar. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, giving him a casual, laid-back appearance.
"Hey, we're not open yet," the bartender announced as he approached. However, his stern expression softened when he recognized my boyfriend. "Hey, man! I haven't seen you in ages!"
My boyfriend grinned and stepped forward to shake his hand. "Yeah, it's been a while. How have you been?"
"Good, good," the man responded, then his gaze shifted to me. "And who is this pretty new thing?" His eyes lingered a little too long, and I disliked him instantly.
"My fiancée," my boyfriend announced.
"Congrats, man! We need to celebrate. This round's on me. What'll it be?"
"Give her a shot, and I'll take a beer," my boyfriend replied.
As the bartender nodded and moved away to prepare our drinks, my boyfriend stepped behind a small wardrobe space next to the bar, where he hung up his jacket on one of the empty hooks, as if he owned the place.
"You shouldn't be back there," I whispered to my boyfriend, my voice filled with unease as I watched the bartender return with a tray, holding our drinks.
"It's cool. He used to work here," the bartender mentioned casually.
"What?" I blinked.
"Yeah, remember I mentioned I used to DJ? I did a few gigs here," my boyfriend explained.
"Oh," I responded, trying to mask my surprise.
We took our drinks, and the bartender downed a shot with me.
"So what brought you guys here?" he asked, glancing between us. "I doubt you came just to see me."
"Got any of the girls up yet?" my boyfriend asked casually.
Girls? What girls?
The bartender nodded slightly. "We had an event last night, so everyone's likely still resting up from that. But I'll check for you. How many do you need?"
"Just one, preferably someone who's bi," my boyfriend responded.
Wait, what?
The man grabbed the phone, and after a brief pause of about three seconds, someone answered. "Hey, is Ana awake yet?"
As he waited for an answer, I turned to my boyfriend, my voice tense, and asked, "What's going on?"
He silenced me with a hushed tone, placing a finger to his lips.
On the phone, the man's expression shifted. "Oh," he spoke into the receiver, then looked at my boyfriend. "Sorry, no bi available. Only Isa is up. You remember her?"
My boyfriend nodded. "She'll do."
The bartender spoke into the phone, but his words were lost to me.
"Do for what?" I asked, my voice growing in pitch.
"You'll see," my boyfriend replied cryptically, turning his attention to the guy and ignoring me. His dismissive demeanor stung, leaving me feeling sidelined and confused.
The men chatted, and my heart pulsed in my ears as I wondered what this place was. I couldn't help but feel uneasy in this unfamiliar place that reeked of alcohol and cheap perfume. It seemed like a strip club.
Suddenly, the sound of a door opening echoed through the room, and a curvy woman emerged. She strode confidently toward us, her high heels clicking on the tiled floor. Her raven hair was styled perfectly, and her smokey eye makeup was flawless, enhancing her seductive gaze. Dressed only in black lacy lingerie that clung to her luscious curves enticingly, she oozed sex appeal as she sauntered over to us. This was definitely a strip club or a brothel!
A wide, knowing smile spread across the woman's face when she saw my boyfriend.
"Hello, you," she purred at him.
"Hi, Isa, it's been a long time. How much for a lap dance?" he asked, his tone casual.
"For you?" Isa laughed lightly, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I'll do it for free."
"Not for me," my boyfriend clarified, gesturing towards me. "For her."
Isa's eyes shifted to me, a frown briefly crossing her face as if she had just registered my presence.
"Hmm, I rarely do women, so it'll be double the usual price," she stated, her tone matter-of-fact.
My boyfriend didn't hesitate, swiping his credit card on the machine the bartender handed over.
"Come on, princess," Isa called out to me, her voice dripping with condescension.
Reluctantly, I followed her into a dimly lit room, my boyfriend walking behind me. The space was mostly taken up by a red leather couch positioned next to a small stage with a shiny pole in the middle. My boyfriend took a seat on the couch, casually leaning back as if he had settled in for a show. Isa gestured for me to sit next to him, and despite my reservations, I obliged, settling into the seat beside him.
As the music began to pulse through the room, Isa started to dance, her movements fluid and alluring as she wrapped herself around the pole. The dim lighting created shadows that played over her curves, heightening the seductive effect. With each twist and turn, she appeared to be putting on a private show for my boyfriend and ignoring me.