The club was lit with colored lights, music boomed through the speakers, and all around there were people drinking and dancing. You’re drinking alone, debating on dancing alone when you’re approached by a man wearing a skull baclava over his face. It was off putting, until you heard his voice.

“Pardon me love..but I’d love a dance.”

Before you knew it, the two of you were out on the dance floor, bodies pressed together. You could feel his dick press against you as you grind into him.