Chapter 11: Bar Exposure

The bar on the corner of 13th & Baltimore was a living, breathing furnace at 1:30 a.m.—neon signs bleeding red, electric blue, and acid green through fogged windows with a high-pitched electronic whine that drilled into Mia’s teeth and temples. Bass thumped through the floorboards like a giant’s heartbeat, shaking sticky beer puddles under her bare feet and syncing with the low, relentless buzz of the remote-controlled vibrator still pulsing deep inside her. Heat rolled off the packed bodies in suffocating waves—sweat-slick arms brushing her skin with hot, sticky friction, breath hot and boozy against her neck as people pushed past, the faint metallic bite of blood from a bar fight earlier mixing with the sweet rot of overripe limes behind the bar and the sharp, acrid curl of cigarette smoke sneaking in from the patio.

The air was thick, almost chewable—humid enough to cling to her oiled skin like a second layer, saturated with spilled whiskey evaporating in sour waves, cheap perfume cloying and floral, the underlying musky tang of arousal and exertion that clung to every breath. The room felt smaller than it was—low ceiling pressing down with condensation-damp plaster, walls vibrating with the music, strobe lights slicing through the haze in jagged white flashes that turned every face into a stuttering mask of shock, laughter, or hunger.

Mia was bent over the back booth’s sticky tabletop—palms flat against the wood, tacky with layers of old beer, fresh sweat, and the faint metallic tang of spilled liquor that had soaked into the grain years ago, making her hands slide slightly with each involuntary aftershock. Elbows locked, shoulders trembling as her body rocked, the short pleated skirt hiked to her waist—bunched and wrinkled—exposing the black crotchless lace panties pushed aside, her swollen, flushed folds still pulsing around the vibrator Caleb hadn’t turned off. Cum leaked slowly from her in warm, viscous pulses—Harlan’s thick release mixing with her own wetness, dripping down the insides of her thighs in visible rivulets that caught the strobe lights and turned liquid silver, pooling on the booth seat beneath her in dark, glistening spots that smelled sharp and musky.