Karen had never kissed another woman, but she liked the taste of this woman's mouth, fruity like her lipgloss. It stuck between them and their tongues, and when she pulled away, she wondered if sixteen years of marriage had been erased by this nameless woman. The thrill had her exhalations bated, and in the dark bar, beside the carpeted stage, no one had seen them. She asked, "What's your name?"

"You don't need to know it, sweetheart." The woman touched her left hand. "That's a big rock. Are you happy? Does he make you cum?"

"Sometimes. No." Karen placed her hands on the woman's waist and kissed her again, savoring the wet smack. "Never. I've never had an orgasm." The woman was touching her hair and her back and her ass. "What's your name?"

"You're so persistent. Don't you like a little mystery?" The woman had a voice like Cuban cigars. "Will you go home with me? I can change that, you know. I can make you cum until you can't walk. I can make you feel so good. I can show you how to make yourself feel good."

"I don't know your name."

"Do you need to know it?"

They met eyes. Karen nodded. The woman laughed and nipped at her ear. Her breath was warm and sent chills down Karen's spine that nestled in her stomach. Her thighs tingled. Her lungs were committing mutiny. Her heart had forgotten it was an organ. "Please."

"Do you want to know what you can call me?" The woman ran a thin finger along her collarbone. Her nails were painted red. "An escape. Are you going to come home with me?"

Karen looked at the door, at the drunk band, and back at the woman. She pocketed her wedding ring and followed her to a black car with leather seats. The woman played her music so loudly it shook the night, and Karen loathed the impending morning.