by Whitney G.
“They’re your friends too, Claire.” She was shaking her head—I could tell. “Maybe hanging out with them more often will stop you from being so uptight.”
“You think I’m uptight?”
The line went dead.
Ugh...I groaned and the door opened.
“Phone sex?” Bobbie Jo stepped inside and flipped her long, honey colored tresses over her shoulder. “Is that what you’re doing?”
“The door was closed, Bobbie Jo.”
She shrugged. “I used to have phone sex all the time—back when I was doing shows overseas and no one around me spoke any English. I would call home just so I could get fucked over the phone.”
“I wasn’t having phone sex. I was talking to Sandra.”
“No need to explain. If I was engaged to Jonathan Statham, I would have sex with him any way I could—any time I could. I bet he fucks like a champion.”
Oh, god...
“Claire? Bobbie Jo?!” Helen called out from the cabin. “We’re about to take the first shots of the night!”
I stood up and followed Bobbie Jo out of the restroom, silently reminding myself that this trip was only a week and that even though they were all wild, I wouldn’t let them talk me into doing anything that would make Jonathan upset.
“Here you go, Claire.” Kim handed me two shot glasses. “You look a lot happier since I saw you last year. You’re glowing.”
“Thank you.”
“If I was having sex with a billionaire every day I’d probably be glowing too...” Helen picked up a bottle of vodka and filled our glasses. “Speaking of which, is his friend Corey single?”
I ignored that question and tossed back both shots. I had the sudden feeling I was going to need to be drunk all weekend.
Helen quickly refilled my glasses before holding her own drinks up high. “To men with huge cocks, never-ending sex, and to Claire’s last days as a single woman!”
We all laughed and tossed back the drinks seconds before the flight attendant asked us to take our seats.
I sat down and sent Jonathan one last text—“Going to Costa Rica for the week, Love you,” and swallowed two of the pills he’d given me. Before I knew it, I was staring at the back of my eyelids.
**
“How do you pronounce the name of this place again?” Kim asked the next afternoon.
“Peninsula Papagayo.” Bobbie Jo enunciated each syllable. “The Gayo rhymes with I-yo.”
“I’ll just keep saying Costa Rica...”
I rolled over on my beach blanket and looked off into the distance. Peninsula Papagayo was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever explored: The waters that surrounded its coast were as blue as its sky, the lush greenery that stood behind the resort stretched for miles and miles, and pure, white sand covered all of its beaches.
We’d only been here for three days, but it’d been way more relaxed and laid-back than I thought it would be.
When we’d first arrived and checked into our private estate—an opulent six bedroom, four bathroom villa that sat right on the waters, Helen had given me a travel brochure and told me to choose whatever I wanted to do.
I was shocked that she’d even asked for my suggestions, but per my request we’d gone sailing, bungee jumping, and taken a five mile hike on a wildlife trail. In between snorkeling, kayaking, and sight-seeing, we’d relaxed on the beach and downed countless umbrella drinks to pass the time; I honestly hoped the rest of the week would be the same.
Bobbie Jo tapped my shoulder. “Are you relaxed enough to finally have some fun now? Or do we need to do another recreational activity? More tropical bird watching perhaps?”
“It was a wildlife hike. Those birds were beautiful.”
“They were also boring!” She whined. “We’re going out every night for the rest of the week because I refuse to do anymore touristy-bullshit. Starting tonight, you’re going to dress like you’re single, dance like you’re single, and since you aren’t married yet—you’re going to act like you’re single.”
“Agreed.” Kim stood up and covered me with her shadow. “No more lame outdoor shit, no more beach-napping, and no more late night calls to Jonathan.”
“I haven’t called Jonathan...”
They both crossed their arms and gave me blank stares.
“I only call him once a day.”
“He’s in Vegas right now!” Kim practically screamed. “Vegas! He’s enjoying himself to the max and you should be too!”
“I am having fun...”
The two of them pulled me up and walked me towards the shoreline, slipping their arms around me like they were holding me up. Then they pushed me into an oncoming wave.
“We’re going to keep doing that until you wake up and realize where the fuck you are.” Kim laughed. “No more calling Jonathan. Okay? Helen has been planning this trip for weeks and she really wants you to have a good, sexy time. That’s why she went back to the room for the afternoon—she’s planning what we’re going to do tonight.”
“She went back to the room with a half-naked bartender...”
They both burst into laughter and joined me in the water.
“Okay, so maybe she got bored from doing outdoor activities for three days straight.” Bobbie Jo shrugged. “But tonight, all of that changes. Got it?”
**
Later that night, Helen slipped into a sundress and smiled. “I am now an official member of the thoroughly well-fucked club! Today’s romp goes down in my top ten fucks of all time.”
“I thought you didn’t keep count.”
“I don’t keep count. I do rank though.” She laughed and handed me a huge strawberry margarita. “Are you ready to finally start your bachelorette party?”
“It’s not going to be anything crazy, right?”
“Of course it is,” she said. “Hurry up and drink that so I can get you to the first surprise.”
“Wait...Are Bobbie Jo and Kim coming with us? Why did they ditch me after the beach?”
“Drink the damn drink, Claire.”
I sighed and downed the drink in three huge gulps—wincing at the incredible amount of alcohol that was mixed in.
“Okay now, here...” She pulled me up and secured a blindfold around my eyes. “Step forward...Watch your step...Step up a little bit...Okay now keep moving forward...”
I didn’t know where the hell she was taking me, but half an hour later she was still leading me around.
“Thank you sir,” she said to someone as she pushed me forward.
A cool blast of air hit my face and I could feel the smooth floors of an indoor building. I kept following her directions until she suddenly grabbed my shoulders and held me still.
Clearing her throat, she removed my blindfold and I realized I was standing in the middle of a massive spa and salon. There was no one else around except Bobbie Jo and Kim, and they were standing on the other side of the room, waving at me.
“Before we can get the real party started, Kim and Bobbie Jo are going to give you a much needed makeover.”
“What? I don’t want a makeover.” I waved my ring in front of her face. “And I clearly don’t need one.”
“Sweet, naïve, and foolish Claire...” She shook her head. “You’re making married woman mistake number one and you’re not even married yet. No man wants to come home to the same woman month after month. You have to switch it up every now and then. Keep him interested, make him remember why you’re the—yeah...Feel free to fill in all the shit I don’t believe in right there.” She laughed. “I personally love your style and your hair, but you’ve been wearing it the same way for four and half years so it’s time for a change. Besides, I highly doubt two supermodels will screw you over.”
“Are you going to stick around and watch?” I noticed her stepping backwards.
“Claire, there’s a vaginal steaming spa right down the hall. The treatment is supposed to tighten my walls and make sex ten times more pleasurable. Where do you think I�
��m going to be?”
“You’re a terrible friend.”
“I love you, too.” She walked me over to Kim and Bobbie Jo. “Please don’t scare Claire too much. She’s practically innocent.”
They laughed and shooed her away.
“Sit down here.” Bobbie Jo helped me into a salon chair. “You have very good symmetry, Claire. I’m not sure if I ever told you that before.”
“Thank you very much.”
“No, no, no. I was talking about you, not to you. This is business.” She grabbed a tweezer and plucked one of my eyebrows. “Look at this, Kim. These brows aren’t in line with her natural shape. We need to fix that now so they’ll be shaped perfectly when she gets married.”
“You’re right...What about her hair? I’m not really feeling this color.”
I cleared my throat. “No. I like my red hair.”
Kim raised her hand and gave me a look. “We know beauty, Claire. We’ve worked with the best, dated the best, and we’ve fucked the best. We know exactly what we’re doing.”
“The red can stay, but it needs more volume—way more volume.” Bobbie Jo looked at me like I was an impossible project. “I’m thinking auburn highlights and a blowout.”
“And a deep mask facial...”
“And a mud bath...”
“And a major exfoliating process... ”
The two of them kept listing treatment after treatment, talking about me as if I wasn’t sitting right in front of them. A waiter appeared out of nowhere and held out a tray of champagne glasses. I took two and sipped them as fast as I could.
“Claire?” Bobbie Jo tapped her chin. “We’re trying to figure out what color we should paint your lips...Tell me something, after you get done giving Jonathan head do you spit or swallow?”
I spluttered, sending champagne flying into the air. “Excuse me?”
“She swallows.” Kim laughed and helped me stand up. “Good for you, Claire! Spitters are quitters!”
Jesus...
Bobbie Jo tossed her head back and laughed. “Sinful red for you it is!”
They led me over to the shampoo bowl and for the next hour, I lay back and let them do at least ten different protein treatments. When they were done, they took turns brushing soft, autumn colored highlights into my hair, promising me that Jonathan “would fuck [me] on the spot” once he saw the ‘new and improved’ me.
I’d given up on protesting any of their suggestions; I’d accepted their “We know what we’re doing” and “You’re dealing with the best” mantras. Even when they insisted that I let them place some type of sea-food inspired gunk on my face, I didn’t bother telling them that I hated seafood. I just held my breath and got it over with.
“Okay, now relax...” Kim pulled a steaming hot blow dryer through my hair. “This is the most important part. This is where we make you look fuck-able.”
As she teased, combed, and curled my hair, Bobbie Jo hummed and applied makeup to my face, demanding that I purse my lips every few seconds.
I suddenly felt my phone vibrating and pulled it out of my pocket.
I was hoping it was Jonathan, but it was a number I didn’t recognize. A text. “Heard you’re on vacation in Costa Rica—must be nice...We need to speak as soon as you get back. I’m not taking no for an answer so be ready to TALK—Ryan.”
“Is it Jonathan?” Kim sighed.
“Um, no.” I deleted the message. “It’s not Jonathan. Just someone with the wrong number.” I shut my eyes and sat still as they continued to work, trying not to think about Ryan and whatever the hell he wanted to talk about.
How did he get my new number?
“Okay, we’re all done.” Kim sounded happy. “Now it’s time to help you into the right dress.” She put the blindfold over my eyes again and led me into another room.
For what felt like another hour, she and Bobbie Jo literally dressed and undressed me until they finally agreed on what I should wear.
“Turn around, sexy.” Bobbie Jo took off my blindfold and spun me around. “What do you think?”
Wow...
I didn’t recognize myself.
My hair was now a much deeper and shinier red—with hints of dark blond and hazel brown, and it was styled into an up-do of loose and wavy curls—a style I was considering for the wedding.
My eyes veered down towards the thin white dress they’d picked and I felt naked, exposed—like there was no point in me wearing a dress at all.
Bobbie Jo raised her eyebrow. “Something wrong with the dress?”
“No, it’s just...It’s a bit—”
“A bit what?”
I shook my head at the hemline that barely grazed my thigh, at the crisscrossed fabric in the front that exposed the skin underneath my breasts. “Slutty.”
“It is not slutty!” Kim scoffed. “This is HOT! All the men are going to be looking at you tonight!”
“I’m getting married.”
“But you don’t have to look married.” Bobbie Jo rolled her eyes. “This is a night you’re going to look back on and cherish years from now, and we’re going to make damn sure that you never forget it...”
Chapter 11
Claire
I leaned on Kim’s shoulder as we left the third club of the night. My feet were completely numb from dancing so much, and my throat was aching from the amount of alcohol they’d forced me to drink.
We hadn’t been on “the list” for any of the clubs we’d been to, but Bobbie Jo and Kim had turned on their charm—i.e. rubbed their breasts against the bouncers and flirted with the security guards, so that we could skip everyone and get in for free.
“Is this the last club, Helen?” I slurred, noticing that we were stopping in front of an all-black building where there was no line. “I’m...I’m not sure if I can...If I can take any more tonight...”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes this is the last club. Well, it’s not really a club. It’s...” She put her hands on my shoulders to steady me. “This is what I’ve been putting together ever since you told me you were engaged. I honestly hate to lose any friend to the married life, but since you want to go that route, I kept that sentiment in mind while I was planning every moment of this...”
Why is she acting like this is the greatest thing she’s ever accomplished?
“This is how I want your single life to come to an end.” She pretended to wipe a tear from her eye. “So, please do me a favor and try to let yourself go for the rest of the night. No judging, no worries, nothing. Can you please promise me that?”
I nodded.
“Say it like you mean it, Claire.”
“I promise.”
“Great!” She opened the door and ushered us all inside.
We walked through two dimly lit hallways, where I could hear the thumping bass of music coming from another room.
The air was getting thicker and thicker with each step I took and I was starting to sweat.
As we rounded a corner, a buff body guard stood up and crossed his arms—blocking the silver door that was behind him.
“Name,” he said flatly.
“Claire Statham.” The three of them said in unison.
He looked all of us over, as if he were questioning why we were there, and then he opened the door. “Have a nice night ladies.”
I felt myself being pushed inside the room, and once my eyes realized what the hell they were seeing, my jaw hit the floor.
Jonathan is going to kill me...
The room was massive. I couldn’t make out where the “walls” were because there was red smoke seeping from the floors and the ceilings. However, I could clearly see half naked men everywhere. And by ‘half naked,’ I meant that they were only wearing tight white briefs and a smile. And since they were sweating, I could see everything.
There was a huge black stage on the far end of the room where a few male and female dancers were writhing against one another as if they were having sex. There were even people standing right below
the stage, tossing dollar bills and panties at them.
The bar that was on my right was all glass and it extended all the way across the room to a wall I couldn’t see. The words “Cum Shots” were flashing in neon red letters behind it, and a long line of bartenders were frantically mixing drinks.
I was about to ask where the hell we were, but a man who was built like a Greek god stepped in front of me and handed each of us a small velvet bag.
“Welcome to Club Sin, ladies.” He smiled and Bobbie Jo reached out and cupped his cock.
“He’s not stuffing.” She winked at me.
“No one here is.” He smiled even wider. “Follow me to your table. You have a reserved space in VIP.”
I shook my head and turned away to leave, but they pushed me forward and made me follow him across the room and up a flight of steps. Our table was directly above the dance floor and right in front of the stage.
The Greek god took a pen out of—somewhere, and waited for us to take our seats.
“It should feel a little cooler up here than downstairs,” he said. “But if you get too hot, there’s a cooling station behind that door.” He pointed to a sign below that read ‘Cool after You Cum.’ “What type of drinks can I start you ladies off with tonight?”
“I’ll have a water.” I said. “In a bottle...”
“Ignore her.” Kim covered my mouth. “We’ll all have cum shots to start.”
“And a round of Sex on the Beach.” Helen looked him up and down. “With two bottles of your best vodka and a pitcher of orange juice to share.”
He wrote it all down and turned to walk away, but not before Bobbie Jo slapped his ass, laughing. “I am so bringing someone back to the suite tonight.”
I shook my head and opened the velvet bag he’d given us at the door: Condoms, Blow-pops that read “For your blowing pleasure,” a mini vibrator, handcuffs, a blindfold, and lube. Lots and lots of lube.
What the fuck?!
I dropped the bag under the table and squinted at the scene that was playing below me on the dance floor. One of the half-naked men was giving a woman one hell of a lap dance and it looked like she was enjoying it a little too much. She was grabbing onto his back and panting, crying out like he was actually—
