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4 Misters X and Y

Song for the mood: Say So by Doja Cat. A snippet of the lyrics:

Why you actin' like you shy?
Shut it, save it, keep it, pushin'
Why you beating 'round the bush?
And knowing you want all this woman

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Vera

Tango Nightclub. Saturday night, April 9

"Vera, oh my, you are full of surprises," Saph gasped, holding her hand to her chest. "First, you get us in for free past the queue, then this!"

"This shouldn't be a surprise, Saph. Vera is an expert when it comes to bringing the boys over." Mindy, my high school and college friend, chuckled as Saph's eyes popped out at the two beefcakes I led to our little group at Tango Nightclub.

Like Studio 54, Tango was one of those clubs where people queued for at least an hour to get in, and the bouncers picked only the best of the best-the crème de la crème of the town. It was eleven p.m., and the place pumped with energetic songs fused with the pulse of partygoers writhing in dance.

As to how I got us into the club, I recently dated the nightclub manager who treated me like a queen. I let loose a smug grin and rolled my hips as the muscular men, with their arms linked in mine-one on each side-tightened their grip in proud possession.

My ex-boyfriend, Ace Lockheart, once called me "an ugly pity fuck", saying that no man would find me attractive-he was wrong. He wasn't my first boyfriend, but he was the first partner to abuse me. He seemed like a nice guy when we met at a college football match two years ago, but don't abusive men all start out as "nice guys"?

He was a charismatic jock and an aspiring musician who serenaded me with love songs and seduced me with sweet kisses. The insults began after we had sex for the first time when he taunted me for having fat around my hips. Fucking asshole.

I should have told him that I was all woman, born to have these hips. However, I had lost my voice and sold my soul to the demon of complacency and silence. Ace started handling me roughly, leaving bruises on my arms and neck. The sex became rougher, and I woke up one morning with his dick inside me-there was no consent.

"Do you know what people think of you, Vera? Everyone says you're a slut!" he shouted after seeing me talk to a male friend. "You'll never be special to anyone. Nobody loves you."

"You're so full of shit. I am not a slut!" I protested, rediscovering my voice, only to be smacked in the face with the back of his hand. I remembered tasting my own blood before feeling the sting of the pain.

Julian and Sapphire rescued me from the worst of Ace's violent abuse on New Year's Day last year. I'd never seen the asshole again after my brother broke his nose for using me as a punching bag.

My psychologist helped me to overcome the worst of the trauma that trailed the abuse, including sweat-inducing nightmares. I started dating again a few months ago because I felt ready, like a warrior who had recovered from her battle wounds.

I still struggled to talk about that shithole episode of my life, but there was one thing I knew: I was a survivor, not a victim.

The best part of leaving an abusive relationship was regaining my confidence. Confidence was the smartest and sexiest thing a woman could wear, with a nice smile-that was my secret to attracting lovers.

Liberated from Ace's hideous words, I relished my freedom in these two studs' arms tonight. I was as free as a bird from the torment of a destructive relationship, and it felt freaking amazing.

Fuck me dead if I had to remember the two men's names. Let's just call them Mister X and Mister Y. Both were tall and beautifully built, like marbled Adonises radiating sexual energy. Their crisp, unbuttoned shirts exposed their muscled abs.

***

"Seriously, Vera, how did you find these two handsome men?" Saph shook her head, sipping her Long Island iced tea.

"A lady never tells her secrets." I smiled, then swatted Mister X's naughty fingers, which lowered a loose strap down the shoulder of my black, lacy bustier. The top complemented my high-waisted, white slacks, accentuating my curves.

"What are you going to do with these guys?" Saph asked, eyes blinking rapidly.

"We're going to The Church."

"You mean the strip club?"

"Yup! It's masquerade night at the club, so I'm going to have some fun. Are you joining us?" I gazed at Saph first, then at Mindy, who toyed with her long, dark hair while staring at Misters X and Y.

"Umm, I don't think so. It's not my fetish," Mindy replied, laughing at my boys. "Saph, this babe is like a guy in a woman's body!"

"Mindy, let me correct you. I'm a woman in a woman's body," I said, temporarily breaking away from Mister X and Mister Y.

"A very sexually liberated one," she quipped.

"And isn't that a good thing?" Saph blurted, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Whatever floats your boat. I love you, babe." Mindy answered, hugging me tightly. "I'm going to grab a cab home. Call me tomorrow!"

"I'll join Mindy. I'm going to church tomorrow morning." Saph's eyes captured mine with a hint of flirtation. "The real church," she teased as we hugged.

She and Mindy left the club to join the ever-growing queue at the cab rank.

"Well, what are you looking at, boys?" I smirked, hands on my hips. "Come on, let's follow the yellow brick road!" I grinned as the men escorted me on each arm.

The original building of The Church was, in fact, an old church site that the club's owner had refurbished. I'd never met the guy, but I heard that he had his finger in every pie in the city. His family was old money-oil money.

"I'm keen to watch you and your buddy enjoy a few lap dances," I murmured to Mister X, squeezing his butt cheek. He groaned, redirecting my hand toward a large bulge at the front of his pants.

Fighting for my attention, Mister Y pulled me into a clenched embrace, drawing me into a hungry kiss. I savored the taste of that hunger, teased his tongue, then released the kiss.

"I want to see you grind your body and moan tonight," he said.

I broke away from Mister Y's caress and poured some passion into Mister X's lips.

It was time to go to church.

A/N: If Bruce Wayne can walk into a party with two gorgeous women, why can't Vera? Alistair is Lester Harbor's Bruce Wayne, but I say let the girl have some fun!

Please comment and vote; it motivates me to keep writing. Thank you for the boost.⭐️

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