Girls Night Out

There is a standing date for our group of six. On the third Friday of every month, we go out. Whoever is hosting for the night chooses the venue. We have only a few hard rules. First, it is girls only, no spouses. Second, we meet at the hosts' house and travel in a group. Third, the venue can be anyplace the host chooses, but it must always be someplace we have never been. Finally, short of death, we never miss a Girls Night.

We gathered at Karen's house that night as she was our host. She wouldn't tell us where we were going as we piled into her Expedition; she said it would be a shock. With Karen, the only shock would be if she didn't shock us. She had always been the wild one. Still, I couldn't believe it when she turned into the parking lot of our destination. Even for Karen, an all nude gentleman's club was really a shock.

She was already out of the car and waiting for us at the door before we could recover. No one said a word; I could tell from the expressions that I was not the only one who was nervous. Karen was dancing from foot to foot in her excitement. By way of reassurance, she told us "Come on, ladies. I have been here before with my husband, and it's a blast. This place is full of hot guys; we won't be able to buy a drink if we wanted to."

She led us through the door and into the dim interior. Loud dance music and louder whistles assailed our ears. The man in the booth passed us through with a curt nod, and I noticed a sign that said 'Ladies Free'.

Beyond the booth was a world I have only seen in movies. There were three large stages, each with a pole from floor to ceiling. Tables and booths crowded around each stage, mostly filled with men of all ages. The walls were covered in red cloth and mirrors. A large bar dominated one end of the room, a DJ booth the other. Along the wall were several closed doors marked 'Private-VIP only'.

Mostly, though, the eye was caught by the women. They were everywhere you looked, and they filled the rainbow spectrum of womanly diversity. Whether short or tall, light or dark, full-figured or waif-thin, they were beautiful; and they were naked. With the exception of some truly outrageously heeled shoes, there was not a bit of fabric to be seen. Every time I tried to avert my eyes from staring, I found them filled again by a female form.

I was grateful when I felt Karen tug my arm and lead us through the throng to an empty table near a wall. A waitress arrived at our table before we could even sit down. I was glad to see her since I could use both the distraction of ordering and the drink. I was surprised when she took six full glasses and placed them on the table.

"Compliments of the gentlemen at the bar. Let me know when you want refills, they covered the second round, too." she told us before hurrying off to another table.

Karen stood back up, turned to the bar and waved, then sat back down in a rush. Leaning in she told us "Didn't I tell you? Two minutes in the door and we've already got free drinks!"

She was so excited she couldn't sit still; she pulled a wad of bills from her purse and walked to the stage. The girl performing there spotted her immediately. She was a lovely redhead, probably around twenty-five. As she danced, she moved closer and closer to Karen. When she reached her the dancer leaned in and talked to her for a few moments. Then she placed her hands on Karen's head, pulled her close, and let her breasts glide slowly across Karen's upturned face. As she leaned back, Karen slid a few bills into the girls garter and returned to us.

"Girls, you have to try it...trust me, it looks weird, but it is SO much fun."

I was thinking there is no way she is going to get any of us to go up there when Jessie stood up, pulled some money from her pocket and headed off to one of the other stages. This stage featured a really lovely large breasted blonde. Jessie's dancer also talked to her for a few minutes before she made physical contact. She was apparently a little more limber than Karen's dancer. She put her feet out to the back of Jessie's seat, locked them behind her and pulled Jessie close; then she closed her thighs gently on Jessie's head and made quick bucking motions with her hips. When the dancer released her Jessie was laughing like a schoolgirl, and she put the money gently into the space created when the dancer pressed her breasts together.

When she got back to the table, still laughing, she told us "I did that so Karen could not lord it over us that she is the only one with any guts. I gotta tell you though, that really is fun. The girls seem really sweet, they are so soft, and my god they smell good!"

She turned to Karen, and they actually exchanged high- fives across the table. I realized I was the only one in the group not smiling; I willed myself to relax as I downed my drink. Fortunately the waitress must have been watching, because a second drink magically appeared to replace the first.

Over the next two hours, everyone except me made a trip to the stage. Karen and Jessie each returned multiple times. I really didn't want to go. 'I am not being a prude' I told myself 'I am just not excited by the female form.' No one pressured me; in fact, no one even said anything. I knew if I didn't go, though, I would be missing one of the defining moments of our friendship. I spotted a girl who looked sweet on the center stage, and stood up to head that way. From the corner of my eye, I could see the head nods and relief from my friends.

Just as I got to the near the stage, the song ended and the girl went through the little door at the back. 'Great', I thought to myself, 'some slutty girl will come out next. Just my luck.' I was still standing there, feeling self-conscious and sorry for myself, when the lights got even dimmer. The DJ was talking over the music though I couldn't really understand him. Suddenly, a spotlight hit the stage in front of me. A girl came through the door slowly and advanced down the stage into the spotlight beam.

She had been dancing for several seconds when I realized I had not taken a breath. I gasped and air returned to my lungs, but my eyes never left her. I was stunned by my reaction; I was confused by my emotions. Worse, I felt a growing heat between my legs, a flutter in the base of my belly; I realized I was physically responding to her nakedness. I couldn't understand this, had never felt anything this strongly, even with my husband. She was beautiful, and exotic, but there was nothing I could define that made her more overtly sexual than the other dancers.

I was trembling, inside and out. I wanted this to end; I wanted it to last forever. I willed my feet to move, to approach her. I was not even aware I had reached the edge of the stage until it blocked my path. She saw me and smiled. I felt myself smiling back as she moved toward me. As she got nearer, I could feel it; a hum in the air between us. Maybe she sensed it, too, because her smile changed. It was not the plastered smile of a mannequin. There was meaning in it, and it reached her eyes. Her face was transformed by that smile; in my mind, I pictured myself naked and looking down into that face as our bodies touched.

She reached the edge of the stage, leaned toward me. Her hair caressed my face as she brushed her lips by my ear. I felt her breath on my neck, could smell her skin, and feel her heat. I had never felt so connected to another human being. I had never felt so aroused, mentally and physically. She was purring as she leaned back to press her breasts to my face, and our eyes were locked.

There was silence now. The song had ended, and I felt her presence leaving me as she withdrew, heading for the door. She was still looking at me over her shoulder as she passed through it.

I don't know how long I stood there after she was gone. Karen was at my side, pulling me gently from the stage. My fist was still clenched around the bills I had intended to give my dancer. I could feel tears in my eyes, knew my mascara must be ruined. I could not speak; my friends, my good friends of our group of six, walked beside me as we headed out to the car. No one mentioned what had happened, not that night or any since.

I have never spoken of it, either. Nor have I told them that I returned alone to the club later that night. I have returned several nights since. I have never seen my dancer again. She is gone.

At night, when my husband is moving inside me and I feel the heat growing between us, feel myself letting go; sometimes I close my eyes, and I see hers.

Those are the best nights.