"Let's get out of here," Carol said, unlocking the bathroom door.
I straightened out my dress and looked for any wet spots, evidence of the huge orgasm she'd just given me. My legs were still weak but I managed to follow her out. I'd follow her anywhere. Walking back to the party, we found a quiet corner and talked. I told her about my break-up, how I was so embarrassed when Greg said it was like fucking a dead fish. I felt a lump in my throat as I thought about how I wasn't enough for him.
"What a fucking asshole. Fuck that guy. Actually don't, like ever. You can do better. And he's absolutely wrong. You are passionate. Loving. *Vocal*," she said with a chuckle. "You just need the proper motivation." Carol gave me a wink and licked her fingers—the ones that had just been buried deep in my still-wet pussy.
There was something lurid about her eyes as she cleaned herself, something I'd never seen before. I looked around the room at my other girl friends. Sarah's billowy sequined top showed a lot of cleavage. Kim's miniskirt was practically a belt. They were all beautiful, but none of them made my heart race the way Carol did.
She started to head for the front of the bar when I held her hand. "Shouldn't we tell Sarah? It's her party, you know?"
"She and I have an understanding. No long goodbyes." She looked back and sure enough, Sarah gave Carol a wink and a smile. Or was she winking at me? I couldn't tell.
The night air had gotten cooler when we stepped outside and I regretted not bringing a jacket. Goosebumps dimpled my arms and I rubbed myself to stay warm. Without a word, Carol unbuttoned her blazer and threw it over my shoulders. When I looked over I saw her hard nipples pushing under the skimpy, very open top. "Thanks. Aren't you cold?"
"I don't mind, kitten. I'm thinking of ways you can warm me up later."
Instead of driving to her hotel, Carol gave me an address that took us away from the business district. Neon signs for night clubs reflected off my windows as I drove slowly past places I'd only heard spoken in hushed tones in the work break room. "Are we partying? Night clubs aren't really my scene." As I spoke I felt a pang of revulsion at myself. Maybe Greg was right.
"It's not a club. There," Carol said, pointing to a quieter block on a side street. The storefronts looked dark and uninviting. I felt a little apprehensive getting out of the car but when she squeezed and held my hand, I felt new courage pouring into my body.
We stopped at an opaque glass door with the word, *Flutter* etched into it. Carol rang a bell and I could hear the echoes of high heels on a hard floor. A younger woman came to the entrance wearing little more than a robe and a smile.
"So nice to see you, Carol," she said as the two embraced. "Here for a workout?"
"A private lesson, for my friend here. This is Harriet. Harriet, meet Vanessa. I know it's late, but may we come in?"
Vanessa ushered us inside. *Flutter* was a dance studio. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors covered the walls but my eyes were drawn to the ten stripper poles bolted to the ground.
"Have you ever done pole dance exercises?" Vanessa asked?
I held a pole and was surprised that it spun freely and quietly. "I've barely done dancing, period."
"Ah, I love beginners. Come on, let's get you dressed." Vanessa led me to a locker room and gave me a black bikini.
"Are you sure this will fit? It looks so small."
Vanessa shook her head. "Trust me, you'll want to show more skin."
A few minutes later I stepped back into the studio and Carol whistled. She drank in every square inch of my body as Vanessa started to show me the basics: how to address the pole, how to hold it, circle it. The pole was like a dance partner, a stainless steel Gene Kelly that only spun in one place. There were some missteps and a fall but finally my attempted first jump.
