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The stench of cigarettes and alcohol invaded her senses. Loud music vibrated the walls of the club. Wicked smiles and sultry gazes hidden by the dim lighting promised a night of debauchery and pleasure, if only the price was right. Ryu Rumi curled her lips in disgust.
"Rumi, this is supposed to be fun! Stop looking like you're being dragged to the executioner," Zoey chided.
"Sorry if strip clubs aren't exactly my idea of 'fun'," Rumi grumbled, dragging her cap lower over her face. "Do you know what would happen if it got out that the CEO of Sunlight Incorporated was caught going to a strip club days before her marriage to South Korea's biggest Boy Crush?" she asked, referring to her arranged marriage with K-pop idol Jinu. "I might as well be executed by the press."
Zoey rolled her eyes. "You don't think I know that? I chose this place specifically because they're used to hosting high-profile clientele. Don't worry, this place will be perfectly discrete."
"I doubt that," Rumi grumbled. There were eyes and ears everywhere. One could never be too careful. Working as a female CEO in such a cutthroat industry as hers had taught her that.
"If you're really that pressed about being seen, then we'll book you a private dance, away from prying eyes," Zoey suggested. "Just you and the dancer, perfectly hidden."
Rumi bit her lip, still hesitant.
Zoey groaned. "Come on! This is your last night of freedom. Treat it like the bachelorette party that it is and live a little."
"You're the one who insisted on coming here for my party," Rumi reminded her. "I wanted to stay home and play MarioKart."
"Okay, now that's beyond sad. Do you even hear yourself? A Zoey intervention was required," Zoey insisted.
Rumi's cheeks heated. Maybe Zoey had a point. The younger woman must've seen the resignation on Rumi's face because she grinned. "Awesome! You won't regret this, I promise," Zoey said, winking. Rumi tried her best to give at least a lukewarm smile.
Zoey caught the attention of a hostess, a very scantily-clad brunette. "Can we book a private dance for this one?" Zoey asked, dragging Rumi over excitedly.
"It would be my pleasure," the hostess said in a sickly sweet tone, eyeing Rumi up and down. Rumi felt a shiver of unease crawl up her spine. Does she recognize me? She tugged her jacket tighter around herself.
"What kind of dancer would you like?"
The question threw Rumi off. "Uh—what?"
The hostess smiled patiently, as if Rumi were a silly little child. "We try to provide our clients the best service we can by matching them up with dancers that fit their tastes," she explained. "Tell us your type in women and we'll do our best to accommodate."
Type in women?
"Uh…long legs, sharp facial features, and a deep voice," Rumi answered meekly, feeling more exposed than ever.
"Interesting…I have just the girl in mind for you," the hostess said with a mysterious smile. "How many songs would you like to buy?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zoey open her mouth, so Rumi blurted, "One! Just one," before her menace of a best friend could rope her into any more questionable choices tonight. Zoey pouted while the hostess nodded. "I'll take you to your room now if you're ready," she said.
"Uh…" Rumi looked at Zoey, who gave her an encouraging nod. Rumi turned back to the hostess. "I guess I am."
Rumi followed the hostess through an entrance which was guarded by bouncers. The CEO tried to look at anything except other woman's exposed ass, and the way it shifted and bounced as she walked.
They walked down a hallway lined with rooms, the entrances covered by sliding purple curtains. Music seeped out of gaps of the the makeshift doors. Rumi furrowed her brows. "I thought there would be more…privacy?"
"We do our best to maintain our guests' privacy while also keeping in mind the safety of our dancers," the hostess answered. Rumi felt stupid. Duh. "However," the hostess continued, "Since you are a VIP client, your room will be in a much more secluded area." Rumi hummed in response.
They finally arrived at their destination. As the hostess had said, this room was much more secluded. It was quieter here, the noises of the rest of the club slightly more muffled. The 'VIP' room looked larger than the other curtained rooms they had walked by earlier. There was a couch, an armless chair, and a pole in the middle of the room. Clearly, whoever booked this room had many options for what kind of performance they wanted to receive.
"Your dancer will be here in just a few moments," the hostess informed Rumi. "In the meantime, why don't you make yourself comfortable? I'll pour you a drink. What would you like?"
Rumi gingerly sat in the armless chair, back stiff as a board, hands resting in her lap. "Do you have Patrón?"
"We do."
"Just a glass of that, please."
After the hostess left, silence descended on the room. Rumi's knee bounced nervously. She took sips of her drink to try and calm herself down.
Finally, the sound of heels clicking against the floor could be heard, getting closer and closer to the room. The curtain shifted slightly. Rumi gripped the edges of her chair in anticipation.
The curtain parted, and in strode a tall woman wearing stiletto heels. She was clad in a black silk robe, short enough that it showed off her toned thighs and calves. Her long pink hair was tied up in twin ponytails in a half-up, half-down style. What really caught Rumi's breath though was the woman's face. Her dancer was none other than—
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Kang Mira purred. "I had to get ready for our VIP guest."
Rumi stuttered. "There must be some kind of mix-up, I don't—"
"There is no mix-up," Mira interrupted. "I'm your dancer tonight, Ryu."
Rumi's throat dried up. The stripper that was going to give her a lap-dance was fucking Kang Mira, her former classmate and crush. If someone had said that this would be how Rumi's night was going to turn out, she would have laughed in their face.
What was Mira doing working in a place like this?
Mira's face hardened. "I can tell what you're thinking, Ryu. I don't need your questions or your pity."
Rumi sank back against her chair, feeling chastised and a little embarrassed at having been read so easily.
Mira produced a remote from her robe, pressed a button, and a western R&B song flowed through the speakers of the room, enveloping the two women in its sensual beat.
"All I need you to do," Mira purred, stalking toward the seated woman in time with the music, "is to listen to what I say, and enjoy yourself."
The dancer swung her leg over Rumi's lap and lowered herself onto Rumi with a sensual roll of her hips. She looped her arms around Rumi's neck, bringing their faces close. "Here are the rules for tonight," Mira said, her lips brushing against Rumi's ear. "Any over-the-clothes touching is fine, but if you want to touch me underneath my clothes, you have to ask first. If you want to buy another song, just let Hyejin—the hostess—know. And if you want to be inside me or for me to be inside you, that'll be triple the cost of a song. Got that?" she asked, punctuating the question with a hard grind against Rumi's crotch. Rumi whined pathetically and nodded.
Mira smirked. "Good girl." She leaned back, staring into Rumi's face like she wanted to devour her. The stripper caught sight of Rumi's white-knuckled grip on her chair and raised a brow. "Are we shy tonight? Don't tell me the great Ryu Rumi has never touched a woman before." Hands immediately flew to Mira's hips, making the taller woman chuckle.
"I've touched women before!" Rumi cried indignantly, hating how whiny she sounded.
"Thought so," Mira said. "I remember the way you used to stare at my legs all the time during gym class." Mira huffed out a laugh at Rumi's gobsmacked expression. "Don't tell me you thought you were being subtle," she said, her eyes dancing with mirth.
"I did," Rumi mumbled, unable to look at Mira's face.
"Aw, don't be embarrassed, baby," Mira cooed, lifting Rumi's chin. "Maybe I just noticed everything you did."
Rumi was left turning this new piece of information over and over in her head while Mira got off her lap, turning around to show Rumi her perfect ass. The dancer smiled lasciviously at Rumi over her shoulder, and let the silken robe fall away completely. She sat fully in Rumi's lap, holding the back of the other woman's head against hers as she brushed her lips against Rumi's jaw.
Rumi's hands slid up Mira's body, cupping her breasts over her lacy black bra. The alcohol settled in, making everything feel hazy. Or maybe the feeling of Mira's body heat against hers, her breath on her lips, was just that intoxicating. She hated to admit it, but the way Mira teased her, both with her body and her words, turned her on like crazy.
"Can I touch you? Underneath your bra?" Rumi asked, breathless.
"Yes, baby," Mira said, guiding Rumi's hands there herself. Liquid heat pooled between Rumi's legs. Her core ached.
"Go ahead, Ryu, undress me."
With shaky fingers, Rumi peeled off the robe. Her fingers probed the clasp of Mira's bra curiously. A nod of permission, and the clasp was instantly undone. With unadulterated access now, eager fingers roamed all over exposed breasts and hardening nipples. Mira moaned quietly, and it made Rumi hungrier.
"Do you let all your clients touch you like this?" Rumi asked, lightly twisting the dancer's nipples between her thumb and forefinger.
It took Mira a moment to answer. "You're not a regular client. Think of this as—ah!—a special gift for an old friend."
Rumi slid her hands up and down Mira's abdomen, feeling the way her muscles flexed underneath her skin as she writhed in Rumi's lap. Feeling bolder, Rumi nipped at the side of Mira's neck, then laved the area with her tongue. Rumi heard Mira's breath quicken, and it encouraged her even more.
"Slow down there, tiger," Mira said. "All you've bought is one song."
"What if I want to buy you, too?" Rumi asked, hands massaging the dancer's inner thighs. She internally cringed at her word choice, but Mira didn't seem fazed. Instead, she just smiled, like she had been waiting for Rumi to ask.
"Seems like the great Ryu Rumi isn't above being fucked by a stripper, hmm?"
"Actually," Rumi said, rubbing her palm over Mira's hot center, "I was hoping I could fuck you." Mira moaned, her hips twitching under Rumi's touch. "You're already wet for me, after all," she added, circling her fingertips over the damp fabric.
Mira laughed breathlessly. "The tiger finally grew some teeth. Alright then, Ryu, show me what you've got."
Rumi's fingers slid underneath lace panties until they met over hot, slick flesh. Mira groaned low in her throat, her head falling back against her client's shoulder. Rumi caressed the dancer's outer lips, teasingly dipping her fingertips into the leaking entrance before retreating. Her hand slid back up to scissor Mira's clit between two fingers, rubbing both sides of the hood. It swelled and hardened underneath her skilled touch. "O-oh," Mira gasped, manicured fingernails digging into Rumi's scalp. "Right there, baby." Rumi alternated between rubbing the hood and lightly circling her sensitive head until the taller woman was a trembling, sweaty mess in her arms. Mira's panties were ruined, soaked through with her leaking arousal.
Rumi tested Mira's entrance with a finger. Feeling that she was open and eager, Rumi easily entered her with her middle and ring fingers, curling them against Mira's front wall. The dancer shuddered, reveling in the sensation of being filled. Rumi brought her other hand down from where it had been playing with Mira's breast to continue working on her clit.
Mira ground her hips up against her client's hands, and though what Rumi was doing felt good, it wasn't enough. "Let me get up and properly ride you," she said.
Rumi nodded and released her. The dancer turned around in Rumi's lap, her lips descending onto Rumi's in a hot, open-mouthed kiss. Surprised, Rumi held onto Mira's thin waist before tilting her head deeper into the kiss. Rumi could taste a mixture of Patrón and strawberry lip gloss, a combination that made her head swim. She swore she could've indulged the flavor for hours.
Mira pulled away too soon. A thin line of saliva stretched between their glistening lips for a second before snapping. Rumi tried to chase her, but was stopped by a hand on her chest.
"Patience, tiger. Give me your fingers again, and my mouth is yours." Mira lifted her hips slightly, pulling her panties to the side to expose her dripping pussy. Rumi eagerly sank her fingers back into her heat, enjoying the way hot walls gripped and tugged at her digits.
Mira leaned in for another kiss while rolling her hips, sinking deeper and deeper onto Rumi's hand. Her rhythm started out languid, then sped up, becoming more frantic as she chased her orgasm. "Rumi, your fingers, curl them—yes!" Mira cried, her hips stuttering for a moment as Rumi angled her fingers just right. Mira held onto the back of the chair to stabilize herself while her other arm flew down to her clit, rubbing herself furiously. Rumi held onto Mira's hip, helping guide the dancer's rhythm as she greedily drank in the sight of Mira bouncing in her lap.
Mira threw her head back, completely lost in her pleasure now, thinking of nothing except cresting the highest point of pleasure. "Mira," Rumi moaned breathlessly. "Cum for me. Come on. Cum."
Rumi leaned forward and engulfed a breast in her mouth, laving over the hardened nipple with her tongue. The extra stimulation on her sensitive breast pushed Mira over the edge.
"Oh, fuck, Rumi—!"
She keened as she came, her walls squeezing Rumi's fingers impossibly tight before releasing a torrent of slick into her hand and onto her pants. Mira buried her face into Rumi's neck while she rode out her orgasm, hips grinding in jerky movements as her walls became overly sensitive. Rumi gently slipped her fingers out while using her clean hand to rub soothingly up and down Mira's back, pressing light kisses to her shoulder.
Mira's breathing slowly evened out. The song had ended long ago, leaving the two in relative silence now.
"You know," Mira said, voice muffled against Rumi's neck, "Most clients would have had me suck them off or finger them. Especially since they're the ones paying."
Rumi hummed. "Like you said earlier, I'm not a regular client. If I want you to return the favor, I could always come back." Rumi stiffened as soon as the words left her lips. Shit, why did she say that? It had slipped out without her meaning to.
Mira must have been able to tell, because she replied, "Come back? Even after you've gotten married and are living in matrimonial bliss with Korea's Boy Crush?"
"You keep up with news about me?" Rumi asked, surprised.
"Don't flatter yourself, Ryu," Mira said, sliding off her lap. She put her robe back on. "News about you is plastered on every magazine and tabloid in this country. I can't buy coffee at a gas station without hearing about when you last took a shit."
Rumi snorted, Mira's sarcasm both refreshing and nostalgic all at the same time. "Right, how arrogant of me to assume."
Mira finished tidying herself up (as much as one could tidy up, given what she'd just done), and drifted toward the exit. "If that's all you want for tonight, I'll be taking my leave now. Hyejin will come collect you in a moment. You'll pay your tab then. I can ask her to bring some towelettes too, if you'd like. Sorry about your pants." Mira grimaced. "They looked expensive."
Rumi glanced down at her lap. Luckily her pants were black, so the evidence of their…activities…wasn't too obvious. "They can be dry-cleaned," Rumi said, dismissing the dancer's concern. The sight and sound of Mira breaking apart on top of her was more valuable than any piece of clothing she owned.
Mira nodded. "I don't think I need to tell you this, but just in case, I am only 'Mira' here in this room with you. Outside this room, my name is Soojin."
Rumi nodded. Of course the workers as well as the clientele of a place like this would want to maintain their anonymity. "And I'm—"
"—Just a random hotshot businesswoman who likes to fuck strippers for fun. I know." Mira smiled and winked before disappearing behind the curtain, leaving Rumi with nothing but the scent of her essence on her pants and the taste of strawberry lip gloss on her tongue.
When Rumi finally reunited with Zoey, the younger girl was in the main area of the club, where attendees who didn't want (or couldn't afford to book) private dances stayed. Zoey was having the time of her life chatting up a stony-faced bouncer about the migrational patterns of sea turtles.
"Hey, Zoey."
It took a moment for Zoey to register Rumi's voice, but once she did, she turned around and squealed, previous conversation immediately forgotten. "Oh my gosh, Rumi, you're back! How was it? Tell me everything! You were gone for a whileeee," Zoey sing-songed, grinning wider than the Cheshire Cat.
"It was…fine," Rumi said evasively.
Zoey rolled her eyes. "Classic unnie, conservative as ever. Did you enjoy it at least a little bit?"
The corner of Rumi's mouth twitched, but she quickly schooled her expression. "I enjoyed it well enough," she answered, keeping her tone carefully neutral.
Zoey blew air up into her bangs in exasperation. "Well, if you're really that bored, we can leave then."
"That's what I've been saying this whole time," Rumi said, relieved. She put on her best business poker face, belying her true thoughts, as she indulged Zoey in meaningless small talk on their way home.
Because the only thing on Rumi's mind was when she could next see Mira again.