The night grew wilder. And one of the strippers, a confident woman with bright green hair and very little clothing, suddenly danced her way over to me.
Before I could react, she pressed her body against mine and started grinding sensually, running her hands down my sides to the beat of the music.
I froze, mortified, my face burning bright red while the guys around us cheered and laughed. Kayde just smirked, clearly also amused by my discomfort.
Eventually the stripper moved on with a wink, but I stayed pressed close to Kayde’s side, and just then the energy peaked as a group of members, including Kayde, got up and formed a line.
They launched into a surprisingly coordinated group dance—something they clearly did often—stomping, clapping, and moving in sync. Kayde joined them for a fe
