Instead, I slide my hand behind her back and bring her with me to the throng of the crowd, passing a throuple fucking each other in a line—one guy behind, another in the middle, with his cock in the girl at the front. They manage to keep up with the rhythm of the music pretty well, all things considered. As we circle them, the girl reaches out to another girl, her hand in her partner’s pants, tapping her shoulder. She casually lowers her top to give her access, and the girl with a cock in her pussy bends down to lick her tits.

Once we’re in the middle, anonymous in all this, I bring my hands to Claire’s hips and turns her so she faces away from me, sliding her dress up her thighs slowly as we move.

I didn’t get a chance to see what she’s wearing; not properly, in the darkness of the theater.

“You can dance,” she notes.

I snort. She’s right, I can, but I’m not going to the effort. “You call this dancing?”

“No, but the way you’re moving, I can tell you actually know how to move your body.”

Oh, yeah. I do.

“I’ll take you dancing one day. This is something else.”

To prove my point, I take the hem of the fabric a little higher, past her waist, baring her to all eyes behind their masks. I tie it into a knot at her midsection, and next, lower her straps down her arms, exposing her top, too.

There are more than one pair of eyes watching her, given what she’s wearing. Even more so when I undo the clasp of her bra, peel it from her arms, and toss it away, cupping her breasts.

Spotting someone getting a little too close, I take the tape I slid into my pocket in the car, prepared for this, and tear off a tiny strip with my teeth.

It’s not about where I put the tape. It’s the fact that it’s red, signifying an immediate stop sign. I place it across her nipple, cutting a second strip to make a cross, and do the same to the right tit.

Look all you want. Hands off.

“What’s this?”

“A message,” I reply.

I can tell she’d ask a lot more questions if I let her, but we have only about fifteen minutes until we’re removing masks, and there are far more entertaining things to do.

“Keep your clothes exactly as they are, unless you want to be punished. Count to ten,” I whisper. “Then come find me.”

She sucks in air, turning to ask what I mean, but I’m already stepping away, watching her, cunt bared in that lace harness, tits out, her wild hair as out of control as ever.