Welcome back, my pervy readers. Enjoy!
lioness71
**********
'I can't take this shit anymore!' I'm thinking as I fix my hair and put my make-up on. This is the fucking 21st century, for Christ's sake. I just spent the last three years in the army. Now I'm in the middle of my second semester of Police Science, and that sexist, repulsive, piece of shit professor still thinks I belong in the kitchen, barefoot and preggo. I don't need this shit. I let out a frustrated sigh. My friends are right. I need a night out. Focus on the hair and make-up.
Spring has finally sprung. Everyone is itching to get out and let loose after the long cold winter. My problems with professor dick-up-his-ass are the perfect excuse to get the gang together and go clubbing tonight. That's what Fridays are for, right? I think I'm done here.
Face is perfect, my blue eyes accentuated by dark eyeliner. Hair is perfect, the wild and curly mop of carefree red hair is gonna be bouncing on the dance floor tonight. I'm wearing only a matching black lace bra and panty set. I look at myself in the long mirror. I'm definitely in the mood to let loose tonight. Some poor bastard better thank his lucky stars and hold on tight.
My cells rings, it's Candice. "Hey, chickee-poo! You ready yet?"
"Almost. Just gotta slip the dress and shoes on. You?"
"Hell, I'm on the way already. Tami says 'hi'." I can hear Tami in the car shouting in the background. "Get yer ass ready, bitch." Yup. The girls are free and on the prowl. Let the menfolk beware. "We'll be there in five."
I slip on the dark blue and silver dress lying on the bed then the black strappy heels. I grab my purse and double check it - phone, house key, lipstick, credit card, ID, condom and mace. My whole life reduced to seven items. Locking up the apartment, and taking the elevator down to meet Candi.
The sun is just setting as I get outside. The bustling streets of NY suburbs coming to life. It seems everyone has the same idea as we did. Candi pulls up a few moments later. Tami is in the back, lying across the seat, trying to force thigh-high boots onto her feet. "Need any help with that, sunshine?"
Tami glares at me and tells me to fuck off. "These fit last year, damn it." Candi and I are both laughing as we head to the clubs. She's got a mouth on her, but she a good friend. We actually get a surprisingly good parking spot within two blocks of several decent clubs. We wait in the car for the others to meet us. A group of four girls walk around the corner and the three of us climb out of Candi's car to go meet them.
"Whoooaaa, you bitches look hot!" We spin to show off our outfits as our friends get closer. It's been so long since all of us were free the same weekend. Hugs and compliments abound as we decide where to go first. We decide to start at the one with the cheapest drinks to get the night started, before heading off to better pastures.
The music is loud as we enter. The lights are low. Without thinking, I scan the room, looking for threats or anything out the ordinary. See, school is starting to pay off already. We find an empty table and just sit and drink for an hour catching up with everyone's lives. I go to school at John Jay College of Criminal Justice. My family has been cops, and occasionally fire fighters, for as far back as anyone can remember. I tried to be different, so I joined the army, but it just wasn't what I wanted. Two years of that, and I conceded defeat and enrolled into cop school. I catch everyone up on what I've been studying before bringing up the sexist bastard. I get much needed full-on support from six angry bitches. We spend a long time thinking of evil ways to punish him. It's an odd form of therapy. I know there's not much I can do. If I tell his supervisor, I'm a snitch; not a good way to start off your career in law enforcement. And I know I'll be getting that attitude from perps and civilians anyway, so I might as well learn to deal with it. My grandpa gave me some sage advice. He told me if words were enough to hurt me, or make me give up my dream, maybe I should reconsider my dreams. But if that bastard touches me or fucks with me, I should break every bone in his body. My grandpa's not the most eloquent retired cop in the world, but he does make sense. This isn't a perfect world; I'm going to have to learn to deal with the assholes. Might as well start now.
After my demons are vented, and support is blanketed around to each of us for our various troubles, it's time to head out again. As one large group, we walk to the next club. There's a short line outside this one. It's still fairly early, so we wait, enjoying the cool spring evening.
Once inside, we grab a booth along the wall. We spend the next few hours mingling, angling for free drinks and a dancing with a multitude of partners. The drinks and dancing are easing the stress I was feeling before. I'm just looking for fun. No stress. No drama. No assholes.
The club gets fuller and fuller as the night progresses. Strange hands linger on my hips, my waist, and my ass. A few men get a second dance, but mostly I just switch from one partner to the next, even an occasional woman pops into my dance card. Not that that is going to go anywhere, but it gets the attention of the men. The feeling of freedom permeates everything. No one cares about work right now. No one is worried about mortgages, or kids, or sick relatives. Everyone is here for the same thing. To relax and unwind after a long pent up winter. To let the wild child have some fun before real life intercedes again.
Making my way back to our booth, I see a few friends have started congregating. A sure sign we're about to head out. As I sit down, Candi, Tami, Jenn, and Donna are discussing leaving, and which club to go to next. I need a breather. A waitress comes by and I order a vodka cranberry and a bottle of water. As the waitress leaves, I scan the crowd again. A habit I'm trying to enforce with myself. I'm about half way through my sweep of the room when I hear Tami mutter one of her colorful expletives. "Fuck me hard. That piece is mine! Holy fuck." As a group, we all turn to where Tami is looking. Holy fuck is right. Tall, dark and drop-dead gorgeous just walked in. Taller than most people in the room, I guess him about 6'4". His perfect dark hair styled short and fashionable. His eyes scan the crowd, I can't tell the color from this distance. The thing that stands out is the suit. Form fitted, it looks like a custom job, and pricey. He oozes confidence, power, and money. Tami is already up and making a bee-line for the guy. I chuckle as several other girls have the same idea. Poor guy.