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A woman approaches Jaxon. “Back for more, cowboy?” she purrs.

Cowboy ?

I try not to think too much about why she’d call him that, and he grins at her. She grabs his hand and pulls him up, and while I’m curious what they’re going to go do, I’m not about to watch my friend have sex.

Or am I?

This place is so confusing.

Cory’s making eyes at some blonde across the way.

Travis nods toward the door we came out of earlier. “I want to go back to the stripper room.”

“The gentlemen’s club ,” I correct him, and he laughs.

“Who are you kidding, man? It’s a stripper room.”

He’s not wrong.

I think about going with him, but I still want to check the rest of the place out. “You go ahead,” I say. “I’m going to see what’s upstairs.”

I climb the outdoor staircase. I glance down at the pool as I try to reconcile what the fuck I’m actually doing here, and then I open the door.

I find myself in a dark hallway. There are closed doors to my left and to my right, and muffled noises come out of some of them. I walk quietly down the hall. There aren’t as many people up here as downstairs—or so I think. I spot an open door, and I glance in and see a few rows of black leather loveseats pointed at a room. This must be one of the viewing areas, and it’s crowded in the small area with fifteen or twenty people. I walk in and slip behind the back row to check out what’s going on.

This must be one of the two-way mirror rooms, and I look into the room we’re watching.

There’s a bed in the middle on a rotating platform. The room seems to be safari themed, and while it’s dark, I still see the theme clearly, from the cheetah-patterned sheets to the rather tall stuffed giraffe in the corner. A woman is tied to the bed—spread out with her hands cuffed to the headboard and her ankles cuffed to the footboard, and she lies there naked as she watches the two men in the room with her. They’re having sex, one behind the other, and the one getting fucked dips his head between the woman’s legs.

There are more closed doors, and another two-way mirror room that’s empty. At the end of the hallway, I find two more viewing areas. One has a crowd of people watching with standing room only, and I find myself too intimidated to walk into that viewing room since it’s so packed—but from what I can see, the room is decorated in dark red and there are a lot of mirrors.

The other has just a smattering of people, so I slip behind the back row in that room to see what’s going on. This room appears to have some sort of Parisian theme, and it looks like I just missed the big show.

The evidence of their good time is all over the woman’s stomach, and the man is gently wiping her clean. He leans down to kiss her, and she grabs the back of his head to deepen the kiss. He chuckles and looks into her eyes, and a certain intimacy seems to pass between them. A couple gets up and walks out of the viewing room, and I take the moment to slide onto another black leather couch—there must be a dozen or so black leather loveseats for two jammed into this small space.

This is more my pace, I think. At least for my first time here.

I wonder what went down in the room. Was she chained to the bed? Were those whips and crops hanging on the wall used? At least one might’ve been because I see it on the floor.

I spot a dresser, too, and I imagine each drawer is filled with different toys and objects to be used to enhance whatever acts went down in here. A smattering of toys rest on the table beside the bed.

I can’t really imagine myself doing this stuff.

I’d never whip a woman. I’m more into caring for those injuries than giving them.

It’s all just so unfamiliar to me, though I cast no judgment on whatever gets anybody off.

I watch as the man in this room says some stuff to the woman. She smiles a soft smile up at him as she looks into his eyes, and he rubs her back gently.

A few more people leave the room, like the good part’s over now…but as I watch, I feel like this is the good part. This is where two souls are connecting. This is where they show how much they love each other after they just did whatever wild acts they did.

This is the caring, nurturing, loving part that comes after the physical act.

This is the part I find myself most intrigued by. The others want to leave, but this is where I want to stay to watch.

“Aftercare,” someone mutters as he leaves, as if it’s the boring part.

I’m intrigued by the word, and I make a mental note to learn more about it later.

The couple’s time in here apparently ends, and they get dressed and leave the room. I stay in here a minute as I process everything I just watched.

The man and woman walk out the front door of their room and peek into the viewing room, where I still sit. I wave awkwardly, and the woman chuckles. “Like what you saw?” she asks.

“I missed most of it,” I admit. “Just saw the last part.”

“You stayed for aftercare?” the man asks. “Must be new here.”

I chuckle. “It’s a preview night. I don’t know much about this stuff. What’s aftercare?”

“In a BDSM relationship, it’s the part after the scene ends where we connect in a different way…where we make sure everyone’s emotional and mental needs are met after the physicality of whatever we just did in the scene,” the man explains.

“It’s the part where he takes care of me after being rough with me,” the woman says, and her eyes are all tender as she looks upon the man. Is she his submissive? Is he a dominant? What does that stuff even mean? “I get into this subspace and it’s when he brings me back.”

Subspace . I don’t know what that is, either.

I can’t help but wonder whether this sort of thing is required for membership or if this is just what these two people like to do. I don’t want to be part of a dom-sub thing…or maybe I do. Who knows? Maybe this is what I’m here to explore, but the longer I’m here, the more I know deep in my heart there’s still only one girl I want.

There’s only ever been the one.

“Aftercare is vital to any relationship,” the man says, as if he can see into my thoughts about this BDSM stuff. “Some doms skip over it, but I find it important to take care of the woman after an intense experience.” He gazes down at her with love, and despite the outdated idea that maybe he holds authority over her because he’s dominant and she’s submissive, it really doesn’t seem like that. They look happy, and in love, and like this is a mutual understanding in a relationship where they both want to be.

I had that once.

Maybe someday I’ll have it again…but I just don’t see myself finding it in here.