I laugh him off, but my blood is definitely roaring through my veins like white water rapids.
I suddenly feel torn. My mind keeps telling me I’m devoted to someone else, but my body. My body screams I’m uncommitted and horny as hell.
Just then, a male voice bellows around the room. He introduces himself as Hugo. He’s a short, stocky motherfucker with one hell of a dirty mouth. The crowd loves him. Especially when he throws rude comments, calls them hoes, and alludes to oral sex.
He does a quick rundown of the night as he paces the tiny stage in front of the DJ booth. Touch this, don’t touch that. Yada, yada, I stopped listening after he said slick dick.
“Okay ladies! Who’s ready to get H-O-T!” Hugo jumps off the stage and the lights go berserk. The opening lyrics to “Hot In Herre” echo around the room and then some light-skinned black dude wearing a bandanna and a baseball cap explodes from behind that disguised little door. He pauses with the music then starts to saunter to the stage as Nelly raps about heathens, penthouses, bustin’ loose, and touchin’ you. The women scream so loud I can actually feel the force vibrate through the air.Say what!Once center stage, he moves his body to the music, popping his hips while pulling his baseball jersey open, exposing his bare chest.Am I really witnessing this?
And, for the record, please don’t ask me if he’s sexy, because I wouldn’t know.
I can tell you, everyone is going mad over him.
I look over at Shayne with wide eyes; he’s smiling, dancing casually to the music while enjoying the show. I love Nelly’s music, I really do, but after this performance, I may never listen to it the same way again.
As H-O-T guy continues to dominate the stage, he slowly but surely starts shedding his clothes. First, his shirt, he drops it to the floor, then he teases the women by unbuttoning his baggy jeans; flicking one button open one at a time, causing a wave of shrieks to flood the room. You can see he gets off on it. His facial expression says it all. I’m not so sure I’d feel the same. Stripping down to almost naked while I shake my ass?Fuck that.
He gets his groove on a little while longer, dancing it up gangster-style, throwing one hand in the air and bopping his body to the beat. Then, he turns, and in one swift move, rips his pants off (they actually tear at the seams?) and exposes his bare ass. He’s wearing nothing but a G-string.Oh, hell no.I turn my head. Every woman in the room is clapping and screaming so loud it’s earsplitting.
I think I’m traumatized.
I glance back over at the stage once the cheering dies down and see money being thrown at his feet. Ladies are literally showering him with it. So much, in fact, he has to toss his clothes to the side just so he can use both hands to collect it all.
Hmmm.
Then he disappears back into the hidden room. I’m really not sure what to make of all this. After spending three and a half years in jail, you’d think I’d be desensitized to seeing men naked. But apparently, that’s just not the case.
“If you liked that, just wait till you see Divan’s routine.” Shayne hits my shoulder from behind.
“You mean there’s more?” I curl my lip, and Shayne laughs. “Yes, tough guy. So much more.”
I inwardly groan.
Hugo takes the stage again and calls up a girl wearing a red sash that reads“Future Mrs. Robertson”and a blinking plastic ring on her finger. The thing is so damn huge I can see it from the back of the room. I am learning so much about female birthday and bachelorette customs in such a short amount of time. For a fleeting second, I wonder if Alana has spent any of her birthdays like this. I can’t picture my perfect, proper goddess ever wearing a gaudy sash and blinking plastic ring. I’d also beat the shit out of any guy who touched her. I wouldn’t mind if she publicized she was the future Mrs. Pierce though.
Keep dreaming, buddy! She hates you! You left her! Move on with your miserable life and leave her be!
Just then, smoke streams out from every corner of the room as eerie music plays in the background. The distraction saves me from my self-destructive thoughts.
A figure materializes in the back of the room. He’s dressed in black leather pants and a black mask that covers his entire face and head. He’s also wielding a whip. Scary. The girl on stage nearly falls over when she sees him. Hugo announces from somewhere hidden, “Ladies, the Dominator.”
“a.k.a. Divan Willis,” Shayne murmurs in my ear, and I snap my head toward the Dom ambling sinisterly to the stage.
Divan is ruthless. That mild-mannered guy I met only a few hours before has transformed into a BDSM Master. He mercilessly accosts the girl on stage, humping her relentlessly. Front, back, side, he even does a handstand, resting his feet against the wall behind her, and bumps his junk right in her face.Whaaaaat?
This shit is out of control. But the most astonishing part, these women are eating it up.
I catch Shayne laughing at me. “You look like you just swallowed something foul.”
“I have no words,” I admit.
“The shock wears off after the first time.”
“I’ve seen a lot of shit, man. But this...” I just shake my head and let my sentence linger as I watch Divan strip down to nothing but a tasseled G-string. “Where the fuck do you even find a getup like that?”
Shayne is doubled over. “Amazon?”
“They actually like doing this shit?”