Her senses were aroused. Doja Cat filled her ears, the tequila warmed her body, and she was wearing a short, tight dress that endeared her to every pair of eyes at the party. It was her birthday after all. Blair deserved the attention. And her friend Tasha had been sweet enough to play host at her house in one of San Francisco’s most vibrant nightlife neighborhoods.
Blair’s husband Lucas couldn’t make the trip back to their hometown. He was caught up with work: work Blair didn’t find that interesting or sexy, but that Lucas devoted to. He had told her to have fun and really throw caution to the wind. Little did he know how much he’d regret encouraging such behavior.
She was probably two or three drinks deep by eight o’clock. They were pregaming the bars and her friends were pushing her to finish her drinks. Mostly it was Tasha lifting her fingers to the bottom of Blair’s glass with a loud “drink, drink, drink!” throughout that first hour. She was always the type of friend that encouraged that type of behavior. She was wild. But tonight, she had an additional motive.