“Oooh, look at that dress. It’ll be perfect for a night out,” Catherine’s best friend, Quinn, said. Catherine followed Quinn’s gaze to a strapless, black tube dress that looked way too short to be considered moderate for a 23 year old woman. She scoffed, “That’s for women who like to party.” Quinn frowned at her, “Have you ever been to a party before?” “Of course I have!” “Not one of those black tie events where snobby, rich people try to one-up each other while sipping champagne. I mean a real party: dancing, loud music, real drinks, sweaty bodies, hot men- that party.” Catherine made a gagging noise then realized it was un-ladylike. She shook her head, “No Quinn. Why in heaven’s name would I want to go to one of those?” Quinn shook her head with a sad smile, “You’re my best friend but you have no life.” “What do you mean?! I’m here shopping with you!” Quinn scoffed, “This hardly counts. In fact, my brother told me about his club on the outskirts of the city. He said it was the best club he’s been to. We should go check it out.” “No.” Catherine would not be caught dead in a club. It would ruin her family’s image that had been cultivated over generations. Quinn rolled her eyes, “See, you have no fun.” Catherine’s other best friend, Tara, rejoined them after she made a stop at the restrooms. “Who has no fun?” “Cath,” Quinn said. Tara smirked, “True.” “Hey! I do have fun!” “Have you been to a club before?” Tara asked innocently. Catherine grumbled; she did have fun dammit. Quinn and Tara thought otherwise. “What could be so fun about a club anyways?” she asked. Was she really missing out? Quinn grinned, “Tara and I will pick you up and take you to that club I was telling you about.” Catherine opened her mouth to object but peer pressure is an evil thing. “Fine,” she muttered. Quinn and Tara’s faces lit up. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

That evening, she couldn’t decide what to wear. She was 22, yet her closet mostly consisted of pants suits, as she worked for her father’s cooperation, and evening gowns, for all the ‘black tie events where snobby, rich people try to one-up each other while sipping champagne’. She didn’t own even a pair of jeans! Maybe Quinn and Tara were right: she didn’t have any real fun. She called Quinn. “Hello?” “I don’t have anything to wear.” Quinn snickered, “Okay; I’ll pick you up in 20 minutes and we’ll find something in my closet.” “Thanks,” she said. She hung up and found a black purse that should match with whatever Quinn found for her to wear. Sure enough, 20 minutes later, the doorbell rang. Catherine grabbed her purse and headed downstairs where the butler had already let Quinn inside. They headed back out and to Quinn’s flat. It was a nice apartment that was very modern. Quinn led her to the closet. Half an hour later Catherine found herself in the skimpiest dress she’d ever seen. It was worse than the black one she’d seen earlier. That one at least had a back; this one’s back was cut so low an inch lower and her butt would be out. “Quinn! I can’t wear this!” “You can and you will. You look great. Now let’s go pick up Tara.” “But…” “No buts. Tonight you are going to have fun.” Catherine grumbled, starting to regret her decision to go with them in the first place.

They arrived at the club around 9:00pm. Things were just getting into full swing. The music was loud but not too loud. The neon lights added a disco vibe that, admittedly, Catherine liked. “Let’s kick this memorial night off with shots!” Tara, the drink lover in the group, said. She drug Catherine to the bar and Quinn followed. They claimed three stools and Tara waved the bartender over. He motioned that he’d be there in a minute. While she waited, Catherine looked around. It was pretty packed but there was breathing room. “You see any hot men I can snag for the night?” Quinn asked. Catherine giggled; Quinn was the one who liked to sleep around. The bartender worked his way over, “What can I get for you ladies?” he asked. Catherine shivered. His voice was like caramel running over her body, heating her to her core. She looked up and found he was looking directly at her. He was muscular under that black T-shirt, she could tell. He was tall too. He had caramel colored hair and eyes. She’d never felt more feminine in her life. And she wasn’t complaining. Quinn nudged her, “Got a little drool on your chin.” That snapped her out of her haze. The bartender smirked and looked at Tara. She ordered their shots and he went off to make them. “He’s hot,” Tara said. Catherine found herself nodding. Quinn shook her head. “You don’t think he’s hot?!” Catherine hissed. “Oh, I do. It’s just a rule of thumb never to get involved with the bartenders because what happens when you come back to the club? It’ll be awkward. One-night stands are a one-time thing and you’re not supposed to see the guy afterwards.” “Oh,” Catherine deflated. Had she been thinking about a one-night stand with the sexy bartender? No. Who was she kidding: of course she had. Then the thought hit her: she was never coming back to this club again. She smirked as he brought their shots back over. “When do you get off?” she asked him. His eyebrow quirked then he looked at the clock, “Normally when this place closes at 3 in the morning, but I could ask my brother to take over if it’s urgent.” She nodded, “I’ll be here for about an hour.” He grinned, “10 it is.” He walked away without further comment. Quinn and Tara were gaping. Proud of herself, she tossed back her shot, stood, and headed to the dancefloor.

Jackson watched the woman he’d just agreed to have sex with head to the dance floor. He smirked. He liked her confidence. Most women just pushed their tits at him and expected him to ask them to hook-up so they could go running back to their friends and say ‘he asked me out’. But not her. She asked him straight up, and he liked it. His brother, Jacob, came from the back. “Hey, could you cover for me for about an hour?” he asked. Jacob nodded, “Sure. What time?” “10.” “Okay.” He stole one last glance at the woman before getting back to work. At 10, he found her relaxing on one of the comfortable couches. She smiled when he came into view. “Let’s go,” he said, holding out his hand. She placed her hand in his and he hauled her to her feet. They headed out of the club into the cool night air. It was October so it wasn’t hot or cold: just perfect. He led her to his car and they climbed in. He took her to the nearby hotel where he took every hook-up. It was convenient. It was a fairly simple hour after that. They’d fucked for the majority of the time. He could tell she didn’t do this often: she was too inexperienced and didn’t know what she wanted. After her 10th orgasm, or something like that (he’d stopped counting at 5), they were both exhausted, and fell into a restful sleep. He awoke around 11:30 and remembered his brother was covering for him. He slid out of bed and took in her form. She was beautiful. He quickly and quietly dressed then left and headed back to work. Tonight’s fuck: complete.