Note: the images we linked to are not of us.
We arrived at the club at about midnight. As our driver opened the rear door of the towncar, the headlights of oncoming traffic flashed against Roxanne’s blond hair. For a long moment, she illuminated the dark street. Gracefully, she stepped up to the curb; her gold jewelry perfectly complimenting the black cocktail dress, black patent leather heels and sheer stockings. I followed, wearing a black suit with a white shirt and an open collar.
As we entered the club, we did not know what to expect. It was a Saturday night and there were a hundred or so couples there, a mix of ages and ethnicities and attractiveness in various stages of undress. As we navigated the public rooms, heads turned as we made our way to a table at the edge of the dance floor. Men and women alike looked us up and down, made eye contact and held our gaze. Unexpectedly, I enjoyed the eyes upon us. In the back of my mind, i wanted her to be noticed and lusted after. She was beautiful, unattainable, and most importantly: she was mine. My possession of her sparked something unexpected in me that I had never experienced before.