Megan liked to go out dancing, but her boyfriend didn't. He preferred sitting around the apartment smoking dope and painting. So now and then she went out by herself. Something was bound to happen.
His paintings actually weren't too bad, and he actually sold some. But she'd long since grown bored with watching him paint. Wouldn't you?
She literally put no thought at all into her clubbing outfit -- she wore her everyday clothes. But those were enough to get her into any club.
Except for her coloring she was very foxlike -- small, wiry, and clever. But her skin was olive-creamy, and her hair was thick and dark. She cut it herself, though, unevenly, not unlike dreadlocks. And she'd put in a purple streak, asymetrically.
Megan's red t-shirt was short and tight, and she didn't wear a bra. Even when she wasn't aroused her nipples showed. Instead of spandex pants she wore two layers of black panty hose. "What's the difference?" she asked anyone who commented. And short white socks and sneakers. No jewlery.
She went to her usual place, which was only three blocks away. The guys on the door all knew her, so she slipped past the line and went right in.
Sometimes Megan drank or smoked dope, but she usually passed. Didn't mind others doing stuff, and quite enjoyed watching those others become dumber.
So she went straight to the dance floor and danced. Lots of the people were dancing alone, lots of couples, and some were dancing in threes.
She didn't show off a lot at first, she just soaked up the beat. Then a young man, a boy, started rubbing his hard cock, still in his pants, up against her ass.