A slow night at the club. [mf]

It’s early. You’ve had a couple drinks but it’s still early and you’re tired of the bars. The same fake people you see every Saturday trying to drown their insecurities and hook up with the easiest partner they can. No effort, no creativity, no real potential anywhere.

Maybe one more drink. You stand at the bar, your jeans supporting your perfectly shaped glutes and your hips slightly swayed to almost make it look like you’re sticking it out for someone to grab. But no one does. The men at the bar aren’t man enough for you and they make frail attempts at pick ups but fail miserably.

“Fuck this place!” You leave. A waste of a buzz and a waste of your sexy look. But you don’t leave alone. As you walk back to your place the crowds seem to part as you walk. Everyone notices you. You love the attention but the boys out tonight can’t handle it. Except one man. He’s decided to test you out. He’s giving you space though, letting your guard drop as you get closer home.