This story features Scarlett, an agender femme (they/them), and a whole bunch of background characters across the constellations of gender and sexuality. Content note for public sex and exhibitionism.
Scarlett spotted the neon pink sign through the mist. It seemed to float mid-air in the alley, a buzzing tableau of a broken heart much like Scarlett’s own. If you didn’t know what you were looking at, you might peek in the darkened windows and assume you just missed closing time for an upscale lingerie boutique. Keen passersby sometimes noticed the intercom and camera on a metal panel, but for the most part, only the intended clientele ever tried to enter.
Scarlett had only been to the Lonely Hearts Club once, years ago, with their ex-partner, Kris. They never partook—just watched—but that one visit proved excellent fantasy fodder for months. When Scarlett saw that Lonely Hearts was hosting a nontraditional Valentine’s Day event this year, they jumped at the chance to reserve a spot.
They made their way past the neon sign and into the entryway, buzzing in to the foyer after holding their ID up for the person on the other end of the camera to inspect. The events promoter Scarlett talked to on the phone, Ashley, greeted them at the door and led them to a heart-shaped bed covered in black sheets, just one of a dozen scattered throughout the four-story space.
“Think of this space like a cabana,” Ashley said, smoothing out the moisture- and stain-resistant bedding. “This is your own personal area of the club. As you know, visitors can watch, but they can’t touch. If clientele are in the mood to play, all of our private rooms are available, but the public floors on this level and our third and fourth stories are strictly hands-off. We’ll have security peppered throughout the club to make sure there aren’t any incidents.”
Scarlett nodded. That was the whole reason they chose tonight for their public sex debut. Scarlett and Kris broke up a few months ago, and Scarlett was okay, but they still weren’t ready to think about sex with other people. Still, they craved to be seen, to be honored sensually and sexually. Here, Scarlett could be noticed without having to venture into the vulnerable, choppy waters of post-breakup dating. It was the perfect opportunity.
“Guests will start arriving in fifteen minutes or so.” Ashley jolted Scarlett out of their reminiscent daydreaming. “I need to finish my rounds, but if you need anything, you can find me in the back offices.”
Scarlett thanked Ashley and set their bag in a storage room, slipping off their shift dress before closing their locker. They walked back out onto the main floor and looked at their reflection in the wall-length floor-to-ceiling mirror. No one had seen Scarlett like this in months—well, maybe ever. Even when they were with Kris, Scarlett was never one to dress up. But tonight, Scarlett wore something bold: a black, wet-look, easy-access bodysuit, complete with fishnets and heels covered in studs and spikes. They were strong, stunning; a gift to cast your gaze over, but never unwrap. That job belonged to Scarlett and Scarlett alone.
They took their place on the bed as the club’s usual clientele filled the room. There were three other people with their own beds on this floor, and Scarlett was pleased to discover they didn’t all appear to be straight, white, thin women. The four waved at each other and Scarlett felt their nerves start to melt away, already more comfortable knowing they weren’t the only queerdo there.
Scarlett dipped into their toy bag, pulling out a small bullet vibrator, a Magic Wand, and a travel-sized bottle of lube, and leaned back on the plush pile of pillows. Guests started to mill around them, filling the room with excited whispers, but Scarlett wasn’t in any rush. This was about their pleasure. Anyone who happened to watch simply had the honor of visually joining in.
Accoutrements assembled around them, Scarlett began to run their hands across their body, starting as far away as their calves and neck and moving toward more tender spots, stiletto nails pulling gently against soft, supple skin. They circled their nipples with a feather’s touch, reveling in teasing themselves with a rapt crowd waiting for more. Scarlett wasn’t yet ready to give the onlookers the satisfaction.
Scarlett trailed their fingertips across the ripples of their stomach and sides, offering tribute, not shame, to the body that sustains them. There was nothing wrong with this body, this body they had been taught to hate but now touched with reverence, like it was holy, because it was. Scarlett moved from their hips to their thighs, drawing their hands slowly inward, their right pointer and middle fingers tracing the length of their vulva.
This was it. This was the moment. There wouldn’t be any shame in stopping, but if Scarlett kept going, it would signal a sea change; perhaps a private one, held only within their heart, but a sea change nonetheless. It was time to move forward.
Scarlett slipped two fingers into their cunt, letting the warmth and wetness wash over them. They tipped their head back, eyes closed, and let a moan escape their lips, catching the attention of people wandering past them. Scarlett continued their circular teasing motion—around their clit this time—until their legs quivered frantically, the body’s way of begging.
With a flourish, Scarlett flipped over on their knees, a shock of red hair careening over one shoulder to the other. Stomach pressed against the bed and latex-covered ass in the air, Scarlett grabbed the bullet vibrator and snaked their hand toward their vulva from beneath. When Scarlett bought the bodysuit, they weren’t so sure the crotchless selling point would prove appealing, but now, they could feel dozens of eyes on that one strip laid bare. Their onlookers wouldn’t be granted the pleasure of seeing Scarlett fully naked, but they knew the guests craved it, and that excited Scarlett even more.
Scarlett turned on the vibrator, tracing it along the right side of their clit in that sweet spot they loved. Their hips rocked as they edged themselves, thick thighs spread wide for the crowd, fishnets glistening from how wet they were.
It started in their toes and fingertips, little lightning strikes and sparks traveling up their legs, down their arms, to the top of their head. Scarlett felt warm all over, wrapped in electricity; supercharging the pulsing in their clit and the tingling butterflies in their stomach. Scarlett’s orgasm was so grand it felt like it filled the air, invisible particles of pleasure fragmenting the atmosphere. Limbs trembling, they jolted forward and lifted their head, noticing a ring of people standing around them, captivated.
Cunt throbbing, Scarlett turned over on their back again and took a sip of water. They dropped the bullet in the toy bag and picked up the Magic Wand. The night was from from over, and Scarlett’s thirst was far from quenched. They enjoyed being watched by strangers even more than they anticipated.
Besides, their second orgasm was always the strongest.