Learning to Soar Read Free

up!”
    Chloe tossed back the tequila and felt warmth spread through her stomach. She felt veins of heat shoot down to her crotch and up to each of her hardened nipples. The woman on the dance floor gave a slight nod of approval, and pulled the blond man’s mouth to hers so she could plunge her tongue between his lips.
    Chloe shook her head in disbelief. She cupped one hand around Monica’s ear. “Monica, I think those people are doing it,” she whispered. Monica shook her head to indicate that she didn’t understand. Chloe took a breath and spoke louder, “I think those people right there are having sex.” Monica pointed to her ear and shrugged.
    “Those people are fucking on the dance floor!” Chloe yelled in frustration.
    Chloe’s shouted observation happened just as one song ended. Accompanied only by the thumping bass beat, her words were loud enough for all the nearby patrons to hear. Instead of shock or disgust, however, the drinkers at the bar catcalled and lifted their glasses to the three entwined dancers. The woman winked lasciviously and pulled the blond man’s cock deeper inside her. “Yes, indeed, we are!” she shouted back as the next infectious song filled the air.
    Humiliation stung Chloe’s eyes. “I’ve got to get out of here,” she insisted to Monica. “This place is crazy.” She wheeled about on her high-heeled boots and headed towards the door.
    Monica grabbed her by one shoulder and held her back. “Relax, Chloe,” she spoke loudly into her ear. “Those two are married, and they both know that other guy. Besides, it’s kinda hot, don’t you think? Got my nips all hard, anyway.” She lifted one of Chloe’s hands to her heavy breast and rubbed it over the light green fabric that covered it. Chloe yanked her hand away in annoyance, but not before she had felt Monica’s stiff nipple. It was undeniably hard, as was her own, if she were going to be entirely honest about the situation. “It’s time to meet Damien anyway, so don’t be a chicken. We’re all grown-ups here. And don’t forget your wine,” Monica ordered.
    Chloe sheepishly followed Monica towards the rear of the club. “Damien’s office is back here,” Monica explained. The music grew softer as they moved farther from the dance floor.
    “So those people were married? The Asian woman and the blond guy?” Chloe asked as they made their way past the bathrooms. She heard a shriek and a round of raucous laughter from the women’s room.
    “Yep,” Monica affirmed. “Bruce and Melanie have been married for ten years. They weren’t feeling the old spark anymore, so Damien helped them out. The brown-haired guy is just a friend. Paul doesn’t actually fuck Melanie. He just offers his support, if you know what I mean.”
    “It looked like they got the old spark back, all right,” Chloe muttered. “Damien doesn’t care if people, you know, get it on in his club?”
    “Does Damien care if people fuck here, you mean?” Monica laughed. “No, not at all. Arnaud and the other bouncers only allow people in to Volare who are on Damien’s guest list. They’re all previous clients, or friends of clients. Nobody’s going to object to some innocent fucking in this crowd. Don’t worry.”
    She paused in front of a nondescript door near the rear exit. Here the music had dwindled to a mellow hum and it was possible to speak normally. Monica crooked a thumb at the door. “That’s Damien’s office,” she said. “It’s time for your session with the scary sex doctor,” she crooned in a made-for-Halloween spooky voice. “There’s no turning back now. Mwah-ha-ha…”
    “All right, all right,” said Chloe. “Do I look okay for an appointment? I want to make a good impression. Maybe I should go to the bathroom first and check my makeup.”
    “You look fabulous,” Monica assured her. “Just a little nervous. Drink your wine.”
    “So your psychiatrist said he’s the real deal, right, Monica?” Chloe asked