Shit. That all really fucking happened. I really fucking bumped uglies with some random guy last night.

I don’t even have any idea who he is. For the life of me, I can’t picture his face or remember anything about him other than riding his magnificent cock.

I can’t say I’m shocked I hit the rebound already. I did definitely break up with Anton last night, and I wouldn’t admit it if someone asked, but it kind of fucked with me.

I have some real feelings for my handsome Silver Fox, but I just cannot stand the thought of being tied down forever. I don’t know how to be someone’s wife.

I take a sip of my coffee, trying to concentrate to form a face on my mind. If I can remember what he looked like, surely I can find him somewhere in the city.

If we were all here, there’s got to be a good chance he’s still around today. At least I hope.

I swallow the hot liquid and sigh. We’d have to be pretty fucking lucky to find him though. It’s not exactly like we can just go around and ask.

Like, excuse me, have you seen a possibly attractive man with an unusually large cock around?

“Awfully quiet there, Perce. What’s up?” Mysti asks, a look of concern spread across her face.

“It’s this fucking mystery guy! I can still feel his cock inside me, but I can’t remember his face for the life of me.”

Everyone’s eyes grow wide.

Oops.

“Oh, right. So I just had this massive recollection of being here last night. So like, we drank that absinthe. When I started tripping, I got a little handsy with someone in this coffee shop, and we ended up fucking on the table.”

“Oh,” Becky interjects. “Well, that’s something. Was it light or dark out when we were here?”

“I have no fucking idea. I was seriously tripping hard; the sky could have been green for all I know.”

“Touché,” Sammi adds. “Well, at least that’s something. Maybe the more we think about the night and just go through it all, the more we’ll remember what happened.”

We all pause, silently trying our best to recall anything and everything we can from last night. Much to our dismay, we make no headway.

“Oh! I know! Check your pockets!” Becky shouts.

“Good call!” I reply.

We all fish through our pockets, turning the lining inside out and putting everything shy of pocket lint onto the table.

I pull just a handful of money, my earrings, and a bottle opener from my own pocket. When my hand rests on the table along with the others, I notice something really strange.

We all have the same stamp on our right hands. It’s a circle with some kind of tribal symbol.

I pass my finger over it. It doesn’t smear, but because it doesn’t hurt at all, I can be sure it’s not a fucking tattoo. Because that’s all any of us would need right now.

“Where is this from?” I ask. “Have any of you seen this symbol?”

“Nope. I have no idea.” Mysti responds.

“I think I might know!” Sammi chimes in.

Thank fucking God.

“Okay, great! Where?” I ask.

“Okay, so I kind of remember seeing a lot of people with this symbol on their hand around us. We were at some kind of bar or club,” Sammi divulges.

“Perfect! So we just need to find out where,” I say. I look around the coffee shop, spot our waitress and hail her.

“Can I get you all something else?” she asks kindly.

“Oh, no, we’re fine. I was just curious. Do you know where this stamp is from?” I ask, raising my hand so she can look at it, putting the marking into full view.

“Of course! It’s Ménage à Fête. We aren’t terribly far. I can write down the directions on foot for you if you’d like to go check it out.”

“That would be so helpful! Thank you!” I exclaim.

“No problem, ma’am. Give me a moment, and I’ll give you what you need so you can be on your way,” she responds.

Thank God. We need some kind of answer for what we’re dealing with right now.

“Hey! Stop that!” Mysti shouts, chastising the toddler for tugging at her bracelets.

Wait. Bracelets?

As the child wails in discontent, I look down at my wrist to see the same colorful jelly band bracelets stacked on it. Becky and Sammi are wearing them too.

I bet they came from the same place.

“Hey, baby. It’s okay! Don’t cry! Here, do you want the bracelet? You can just have it,” I hear Mysti say, trying to get the kid to stop screeching.

Today serves as a perfect reminder as to why I didn’t want to settle down in the first place. I’m not the kind of woman that can just be someone’s wife and eventually someone’s mom.

The very thought shakes me to my core. I’m out for myself and myself alone. I don’t need a man, I don’t even need a pet. I’ve done just fine my entire life without.

Mysti finally gets the toddler to stop hollering, instead the kid is now taking sips of water on her lap.

Becky is gazing at her, probably jealous of how well Mysti is handling everything. Being pregnant, I bet she’s terrified of making mistakes as a parent. It stresses her out about eighty six percent of the time.

Speaking of pregnant.

“Hey. guys! Why the fuck are there loads of positive pregnancy tests in the hotel room?” I ask.

I’m a little worried about the answer. One of us is already knocked up, and I’m already weirded out by that.

“I don’t know! I was wondering the same thing!” Sammi says.

“Yeah, I’ve got no real clue,” Becky says.

“Well, of course you don’t. We all know you’re pregnant,” I say.

Which leaves Mysti. We all stare hard at her as she pats the head of this small kid. She notices that we’re waiting for her answer.

“Me?! Pregnant?” she shouts. “Do you know how much of a train-wreck I’d be right now if I am?”

“Well, they’re someone’s!” I reply.

“Okay, so why don’t we all take one and find out?” Mysti snaps back.

“Not right now. There’s some really important shit I need to know before I even think about getting into all that.” I answer.

“Here you go!” the waitress says, approaching the table with a folded piece of paper. “This should get you there just fine. It’s only a few blocks, maybe thirty minutes or so.”

“Okay, great! Thank you so much!” I say. “Alright, everyone. Let’s go.”

We all stand from the table. I leave cash to pay for our drinks, and we make our way to Ménage à Fête.