*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaged in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
*Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**..**
Wednesday night at Vermillion was DJ night. Friday nights, Vermillion had a live band play contemporary songs for patrons to dance to and enjoy. Saturday nights, Vermillion had a Zydeco band come in and play until two in the morning. A sure draw was when Dennis Orbe and the Benders would come in. When Dennis played, it was wall to wall and very few patrons ever sat down.
Vermillion had once had a good DJ, but as Randy Paul, the owner of the small bar had told Frank Stevens, Frank priced himself out of a job. It seemed like every other week, Frank was in Randy's office, demanding another raise.
So, Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, a jukebox provided the music. Thursday nights were 'Ladies Night' where women drank at half-price. Thursdays were good nights; women came in for cheap drinks, and men came in looking for cheap women.
Randy nodded his head; tonight's DJ was a very good DJ. Cheryl Savoie had multicolored hair, exaggerated makeup, torn clothing that threatened to expose her ripe body should she move wrong. She also played a good mix of songs that kept the crowd moving. Cheryl had an energy to her and an infectious giggle as she talked with the patrons. Randy put a '*' next to her name on his list of DJs.
As Randy Paul kept an eye on his bar, as Cheryl Savoie kept the music going, Rayne Weingrass sat at a table and watched her boyfriend, Wyatt Reynolds dancing with yet another buxom blonde. The two were practically fucking on the dance floor. When Wyatt wasn't on the floor rubbing and groping women, he was at the bar, hammering down shots the nightclub called the Vermillion Red at five dollars a shot.
(A Vermillion Red was Cherry flavored vodka, Cherry flavored Schnapps, Cherry flavored rum and a splash of Mark's cherry liqueur. The drink had a certain red hue to it.)
The few times Wyatt did bother to come check on Rayne, Wyatt was rude and condescending to her. Twice, she'd asked him to get her a soda; she was thirsty. Wyatt snarled that the Vermillion charged eight dollars for a can of soda; that was ridiculous. When Rayne asked if he was ever going to dance with her, his girlfriend, Wyatt laughed a scornful laugh and said Rayne danced like she was having a seizure.
"Fuck, Rayne, what? Came here to have fun, huh?" Wyatt said, scanning the crowd for his most recent blonde dance partner or his next potential dance partner. "Like I want to dance with you?"
"Then take me home," Rayne demanded.
"In a bit," Wyatt said, seeing his blonde smiling at him. "I'll be back."
Rayne angrily brushed back her waist length red hair, thinking very seriously of leaving. Maybe one of the bouncers or a bartender would be nice enough to call for an Uber for her.
At another table, pausing long enough to have a drink; white wine Lemon spritzer for her, a cola for him, Gina Jensen and her boyfriend, Jack Vinings both shook their heads in disgust over Wyatt's boorish treatment of the pretty red head. Gina nudged Jack and nodded her head toward Rayne.
"Go ask her to dance?" Gina asked him. "I'll get you another Coke, okay?"
Wyatt must have sensed a disturbance in the universe; Rayne was about to tell the handsome, very well dressed young man 'Yes' when Wyatt popped up, shoving Jack, hard. Jack threw up his hands in surrender and was turning to return to his own date. Rayne watched as Wyatt attempted to sucker punch Jack.
"Mother fucker! Come up and ask my girlfriend to dance? Without my permission?" Wyatt screamed, flailing at Jack's head.
Rayne shrieked in horror as Wyatt swung. An observant bouncer, however, had made his way toward the pair of men from the moment Wyatt had shoved at Jack. The bouncer grabbed Wyatt's arm, preventing the blow from landing. With his other hand, the bouncer pressed down, hard on a pressure point in Wyatt's shoulder.
"Think it's time you said 'good night,' sir," the bouncer growled into Wyatt's ear.
"Fuck you. Leave when I feel like it," Wyatt braved saying.
"And you really feel like it, sir," Randy Paul, the bar's owner and manager said. "Good night."
"Fuck you. Place fucking sucks anyway," Wyatt blustered drunkenly. "Come on, Rayne. Place if for pussies. Come on, we're out of here."
"Fuck you, Wyatt," Rayne spat. "I'm staying."
"Fuck you are!" Wyatt yelled at her. "Come on; I said we're leaving."
"No, I said you're leaving," the bouncer chuckled and marched Wyatt to the door. "And, sir? You are too drunk to be driving. Better let me call an Uber for you."
Jack again asked Rayne if she'd like to dance. Cheryl had just started playing some Eighties re-mixes, generating applause, hoots, and even some laughter among the happy patrons. For the next five minutes, Jack and Rayne bounced and swiveled to a club mix of 'Everything She Wants' by Wham! Rayne happily observed that her mother had been absolutely gaga over George Michael and they had both cried when the singer had died. Jack laughed and admitted, his mother too had been crazy for the handsome singer.
They stayed out on the dance floor for three songs. If Jack thought Rayne looked like she was having a seizure, he didn't say anything. If Jack thought that Rayne's 28A breasts were too small, he didn't say anything. If Jack thought Rayne's 29 inch hips made her a 'bony ass' he didn't say anything.
"Come on; I'm dying of thirst," Jack finally declared and pulled Rayne to where a smiling Gina waited.
"Gina Jensen," Gina smiled widely. "And this good looking hunk of man is Jack Vinings."
"Rayne Weingrass," Rayne said.
Jack revealed that he was a chef at Conquistadors, a nightclub that featured male dancers. Gina was an Administrative Assistant at Boyd Investment Group. Rayne let them know she was a student at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde; it was her second year. Her major was Criminal Justice; she hoped to be a lawyer someday.
"Didn't know what you wanted, so just got you a spritzer," Gina indicated the tall frosted glass.
"Oh! I, uh, I'm not old enough," Rayne admitted, indicating the large 'X' stamped on her hand.
"So? I won't tell if you don't," Gina smiled, brushing her shoulder length black hair out of her almond eyes.
Rayne sat at the tall table hemmed in by Jack to her left and Gina to her right. Jack sipped his cola while Gina drank her drink. Rayne gratefully drank the refreshing, cold beverage; she was truly parched by now.
"You mind if I take my man away from you for a minute?" Gina asked, dark eyes sparkling.
"I, uh, wweeeell," Rayne said. "I don't know."
"Oh, please?" Gina laughed, placing her hand on Rayne's leg, warm palm resting just below the hem of Rayne's short skirt.
"Well, uh, um, since you said 'please,'" Rayne laughed.
For the first time since she and Wyatt had entered the nightclub, Rayne felt happy. She drained her drink and watched Jack and Gina bouncing and swaying to the energetic music. Rayne felt a small shiver when Gina made eye contact with her and smiled widely.
Sitting at the table, Rayne took stock. She had waist length carrot orange hair, warm brown eyes, a pretty face, even if she did have numerous freckles. At four feet, eleven inches, she was proportionally shaped with narrow chest, narrow waist and narrow hips. But she was not bone thin and she certainly was not ugly. She deserved better than what she was receiving from Wyatt Reynolds that was for sure.
She deserved what Gena Jensen was receiving from her handsome, thoughtful, sweet natured boyfriend. Looking out on the dance floor again, Rayne saw that she and Gina were built very much alike. Gina was slender, with very small breasts and slim hips. When she whipped around, Rayne could see Gina's backside was also small, nearly flat.
"Hey! Jack's going get us couple more drinks!" Gina enthused, flopping down on the seat next to Rayne.
Rayne looked over and saw Jack was not at the bar; Jack was talking with the DJ. Cheryl smiled and nodded her head enthusiastically. Rayne saw Jack slip a dollar bill to the DJ; Rayne did not see the denomination.
"Okay, my butt is dragging," Jack said, joining Rayne and Gina.
"Aw! But it is a cute butt, isn't it? Rayne?" Gina laughed, taking her drink from Jack's hand.
"Mm hmm," Rayne agreed, taking her own drink from Jack's outstretched hand.
"Anyway, you two go dance," Jack said, taking a seat.
"You want to?" Gina asked Rayne, eyes alive with excitement.
"Okay girls, let's do one just for us girls," Cheryl said into her microphone.
Her giggle made nearly all in the bar smile. Rayne allowed Gina to take her hand; she felt no embarrassment at the familiar gesture this stranger was exhibiting.
Cheryl kept up her patter over the beginning seconds of the club mix of 'I Kissed A Girl.' Gina laughed happily when she recognized the song and waggled a playful finger at Jack. Rayne laughed a moment later, recognizing the song. When she shot Jack a playful scowl, Jack smiled and shrugged his shoulders.
Toward the end of the song, every time Katy Perry said 'I Kissed a girl and I liked it' Gina would touch her lips to Rayne's lips. Normally, Rayne was extremely self-conscious and would have been horrified; suppose someone saw her? But tonight, at this moment, it was okay, it was acceptable, it felt right.
Cheryl followed this up with 'Single Ladies' by Beyonce. Apparently, it was a crowd pleaser; there was a chorus of 'Woo!' all around. After this song, Gina kissed Rayne, fully on her lips, then grabbed Rayne's hand and dragged her to the table where Jack was waiting, with two fresh drinks for them.
"Well, little Miss Jenna Jensen will be up at seven, wanting her apple fritters," Gina said, glancing at her watch.
"Oh, don't act like you're the one gets up," Jack laughed.
"He makes the absolute best apple fritters in the world," Gina informed Rayne.
"Yum!" Rayne said.
