The National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) is a branch of the National Institute of Health located in Bethesda, Maryland. Scientists and medical professionals assigned to the Institute worked on several major disease threats to include HIV/AIDS, corona viruses, and antimicrobial resistance.
Diana McCloud was 45 years-old and employed as a chemical engineer assigned to the corona viruses team. She had been recruited by the National Institute of Health, and emigrated to the United States from the Philippines after her first husband died. She met her current husband, John, a lieutenant in the Metropolitan Police Department, on a dating application, and they were married after a whirlwind romance.
Diana's team was tasked with developing vaccines for the corona virus variants as they evolved in order to protect the population, and she was the team's pharmaceutical engineer. The pressure on government scientists and researchers was unrelenting, and, at the end of the work week, she and some of her co-workers would go out to let off steam...no husbands or boyfriends, just girls. The plan for the evening was dinner, then an Uber to Top Hat DC, a dance club on the District of Columbia's Northeast side, near Union Station. The clientele was mostly African American, but all were welcome. Diana's young co-workers liked the place, which had a real carnival atmosphere with wild and crazy DJs, and so did she. It was like rolling back the years being with the young girls, and Top Hat was also a great place to meet hot men.
Diana was happily married and loved her husband, but she was not wired for monogamy. Since coming to Washington, DC, she had been involved in many trysts, a few steamy affairs, and one long term relationship with a senior executive at her work place. That ended when her lover suffered a debilitating stroke
It was early evening when Diana's young friend Virgie, already dressed for "girls night out," knocked on her office door.
"What the fuck girlfriend. It's 6:30, and you're still in your scrubs? Let's get the fuck outta here. Maria and Kimmie have already split and will meet us there."
Diana looked up and smiled. Virgie was also Filipina but American born. She was a Harvard graduate, just in her early 20s, and worked as a virologist on the team. She regarded Diana as a mentor and surrogate auntie, and frequently came to her with the frequent drama in her love life.
"I'll be done here in a few minutes, just gotta email some notes on our latest test results to the boss. Are we still going to Top Hat?"
Virgie sat down at Diana's desk, "Yep. It's Carribean-Reggae Night...no cover charge for hot women like us. Let's skip Du Pont Circle and go right to the club. It's getting late, and we can always get food there." She was anxious to hit the dance floor.
Diana kept tapping away at her keyboard and laughed, "You youngsters are the hot women. I'm the MILF in the group. And yes, let's skip dinner. I've been snacking all day."
"Diana. I've seen the way guys look at you. You still got it...got that Asian chick, 'forever young' thing going on. C'mon, hurry up."
"You go down to the lobby and call the Uber. By the time our car gets here, I'll be ready...just gotta change, freshen up, and put on my night club make up. You look great by the way...love those Manolo-Blahniks."
Virgie was wearing red velvet stilettos and black stockings. She opened her coat and said, "Yeah, new dress too." She was wearing a red cocktail dress that was cut to emphasize and amplify her cleavage.
"Wow, guys going to be all over you...I'm done here; gonna go get ready, so go down and get that Uber on the road...we had a great week, and we'll party tonight!"
Diana loaded all her attachments and notes to her email message, hit the send button, and headed for the women's locker room.
Her dress and shoes were in her locker, but before she changed, she touched up her makeup, adding eyeliner and shadow, creme brulee lipstick, and some blusher. She put on a pair of bengal earrings a friend of hers brought back from India. They looked like expensive 18 karat gold, with ruby stones, but the gold was just plated, and the stones were fake. She put on a delicate gold chain with a small cross, a dressy wrist watch then looked at her wedding and engagement rings. Her husband had paid two months' salary for the emerald cut diamond, and she considered leaving it locked up for the evening. She rotated the ring to keep the stone on the palm side of her hand, but then figured, heck with that. The ring was insured for full replacement value.
Diana then got undressed and put her scrubs and underwear in a laundry bag. She put on a shorty robe and used the toilet, then freshened up with a lightly soaped washcloth, and a bottle of water. After she finished, she opened her robe and made a quick self assessment...her body was still in great shape, kept that way with the treadmill jogging and weight training in her home gym. Her breasts were on the small side, 32A, some bras B, with small, dark brown dime sized areolas and pencil eraser nipples that were perpetually erect and very sensitive to any stimulation. Her stomach was firm, but showed the faint stretch marks from her two pregnancies..
She then ran her fingers through the thick growth of pubic hair that covered her vagina, put on a black micro thong, and frowned. She was hairier than most Asian women, and the thong didn't come close to covering it. She wanted to trim her bush, but that was a no go with her husband. He loved her in her natural state, and even joked about how he wanted her to let her armpit hair grow out...at least she thought it was a joke. At any rate, while she let him have his way with her genital area, she was not about to go full hillbilly chick for him.
Diana let her hair down and began to brush. Shades of gray began showing up after she hit her forties, and she dyed her natural black hair color to a deep chestnut brown with blond highlights. When her hair was right, she put on her stockings, black fishnet nylons with a back seam, then the black lace Oscar de la Renta party dress. It was her favorite, and she kept it in her work locker. John didn't like it, thought with the bare back it was too revealing, especially since she liked to wear it, sans bra. The dress was not super short, but split to mid thigh on the right. It fit her like a glove, and highlighted her figure, especially her ass, which seemed to be improving with age.
Dressed now, she checked herself out in the mirror and smiled, thinking to herself, "Virgie's right...I still got it." She stepped into her black stilettos, grabbed a wrap, and headed for the lobby.
The Uber driver had just texted Virgie on his arrival, and she was on her way out the door when Diana stepped off the elevator. Virgie was trying to call her cellphone when she saw her and gestured toward the waiting vehicle, a white Honda CRV. The driver got out and opened the back doors for the girls, introduced himself as Mohammed from Egypt, and they were off.
It was a short trip mileage wise from Bethesda to downtown DC, but the Friday traffic was heavy with people getting out of work and exiting the District. It was dark when they arrived at the Top Hat. The sun set early in December, and there was already a line of guys queued up for entry, an indication that the club was already at near capacity. However, there was no line for the ladies, and Diana and Virgie walked right in.
The club had a large dance floor, ringed by tables. There were red and green lasers and strobe lights flashing through the occasional floods of dry ice that smoked along the floor. Neon lights of every color were everywhere. The DJ station was at the center of it all, manned by a guy they knew as Soloman, or "Soloman from Haiti," as he liked to refer to himself. He was currently spinning some Ozuna recording and the dance floor was crowded.
Diana and her friends found a table at the far end of the floor and sat down. They were soon greeted by a snooty server who curtly informed them there was an immediate two ******* minimum...it happened like this just about every time at every place. Diana ordered Singapore Slings, and sat back to enjoy the music.
As she scanned the club, she observed there were very few white people, and the ones who were there were mostly female...as usual. The male crowd was mostly all black guys, maybe a few Middle Easterners, and Indians. It wasn't long before guys looking for dance partners found their table, and in minutes Diana and the girls were all out on the dance floor shaking it to the sounds of the Caribbean. She was dancing to some Daddy Yankee tune when she made eye contact with a young looking guy in an untucked, purple satin shirt who had a rugged look about him. He was fairly light skinned, wore his hair in medium length, twisted curls, and had a Fu Manchu mustache. He smiled when he saw that Diana noticed him, and gestured for her to come over after the music finished.
