She could go home, recover, and hopefully put this whole disgusting thing behind her.She looked for her thong.. uggh torn of course she thought to her...elf as she held up the tattered silky thong. She took off the rest of her tattered stockings too, She would just go downstairs, put on her clothes and jacket and leave.She turned to leave when all of a sudden a dreary old man Ron stood up and blocked her way“Morning beautiful” he sneered“Get outta my way, you had your fun now I’m going to leave”. Quite a departure from chest-thumping jocks and their beer bongs. Her eyes made a return flick to one particularly dark and well-made man ordering a drink and her gaze lingered on him a second. His solid frame was exquisitely coutured; he was the emblem of all she would expect in this class of bar.She smiled at the thought and strolled further in. Acid jazz was filtering down from the upper-level dance floor. The bar-front recalled that Renoir print she had beside her bed. Now here was a place. More

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