Cory dresses for the hunt. She's hot and she wants action tonight. Black denim, black silk blouse, silver rings, dark hair slicked back. The face is pale, almost deadly enough to make a femme tremble. Cory wants them wetting their pants when she walks into the bar. She wants a slender blonde with pink nipples and a pale white ass. As she imagines the blonde, she grabs the black denim covering her crotch, squeezes her dick and pumps her hips. Fuck, I need it, Cory thinks. She needs a girl.
She has the car stereo blasting some crazy bass beat as she pulls onto the gravel in front of Mama J's. A dozen cars and bikes out front, two groups of dykes sucking in some fresh air. Cory cuts the stereo and climbs out.
"Hey, Cory."
Cory waves and keeps walking. "How's it going?"
"Same old shit," the biggest girl says.
The other girls laugh. Music rocks out of the small building. The neon sign on the roof blinks and looks ready to collapse.
Cory pushes at the front door of Mama J's and enters her world.
* * *
The place has a bar, a dance floor, a couple of pool tables in an adjoining room, and fifty women of all sizes and shapes dripping sweat and smelling of sweat and perfume and pussy juice. There's hardly any light, and it's not easy to see who's there and who isn't. Cory isn't interested in anyone she knows anyway, she wants someone new, something fresh. But she thinks she probably won't find it because maybe she's run through all the dykes in the county. Nothing left except women in the closet who never step into a place like this. Not here. Not on Friday night. But she looks anyway, checks out the women on the dance floor, the gyrating bodies, then the women at the bar, then the butches hanging over the pool tables in the other room.
"Cory, lover, why don't you say hello to me?"
Cory turns. A redhead with big tits and dangling bracelets. What's her name? Ruthie? No, it's Ramona. Cory remembers two fat nipples.
"Hello, Ramona."
The redhead beams, pleased that Cory remembers her name. "Let's dance."
"No, I'm looking for someone."
Ramona pouts and swirls the drink in her hand. "Well, if you don't find her, I'll be here."
Cory nods and moves on. Once around the dance floor, then back to the bar. She's about to order a beer when she sees a blonde coming out of the corridor that leads to the restrooms and the kitchen. Tall slender blonde in tight pants and a white sweater. Lipstick dyke sporting a ponytail, tiny tits, and a round tight ass. Is she new? Is it possible? Cory decides she's never seen this one before. Pretty girl, isn't she? Maybe from the state college in Colfax. Hoowee, Cory thinks; it's Friday night. She heads straight for the girl, touches her elbow, then bends her head to sniff at the girl's neck. "I'd like to eat your ass," Cory says in a low voice. "But if you're too bashful for that, I'll buy you a drink."
