When your parents go to bed, you feel that the house is quiet. Your stepsister has her light on but there are no signs of life—no music, no TV, just silence. You seize the opportunity, quietly opening your window and dropping down onto the lawn below. The night air is cool against your skin as you make your way to the newly opened swinger club across town.

The atmosphere inside is humid and thick with anticipation. Dim red lighting casts everything in an erotic glow as you walk down the darkened corridor, eyes scanning the numbered doors lining both walls. Your heart pounds with a mix of excitement and nervousness as you approach an empty booth labeled 7. The simple wooden structure contains nothing but a bench and a small, oval hole in the wall separating you from whatever—or whoever—might be on the other side.

With your pulse racing, you step inside and close the door behind you. Through the hole, you can just make out the silhouette of another person taking a seat on the opposite bench. A female hand appears, fingers curling around the edge of the hole as if testing the boundary between you. Then you see them—full, glossy lips that seem strangely familiar. Before you can process this realization, the mouth forms a shy smile and you hear a voice you'd recognize anywhere whisper, "Is someone there?"