Bachelorette Party

When I saw him walk into the bar with his two friends, I knew that night I wouldn’t go home the same woman. And I wasn’t wrong.

I arrived looking for a distraction from a life falling apart. Three hours later, I was on my knees before a stranger—and nothing in me was ever the same.

I arrived at the bachelorette party in red heels and with a broken heart. What I didn’t imagine was that I’d end up on my knees in front of a stranger, never wanting him to stop.

I only knew the bride, but by two in the morning I was someone else. Three strippers entered the bar, and my eyes fixed on just one of them.

The fourth round of daiquiris lowered everyone’s defenses, but nobody expected Daniela’s confession to end with all of us tangled up on the living-room rug.

When I saw him come in with the other two, I knew I wouldn’t hold back that night. My red heels and his gaze were enough to change everything within minutes.

Daniela’s voice narrated the locker-room encounter while, around her, her friends’ bodies tangled shamelessly and without limits.

I hadn’t planned it. But when he walked in with the others and locked eyes with me, I already knew that night would end only one way.

I crossed the bar with trembling legs, took his face in my hands, and kissed him without saying a word. What came after can’t be told in daylight.