A girls’ night out

You set out just as the sun had set. Thanks to Doe you had at least gained basic competence for walking in heels. As you walked, you began to get a strange feeling. As you walked you couldn’t help but feel as if you were being watched. And then it dawned on you, you were being checked out. Every guy you passed by was eyeing you up. It was such a strange feeling. On one hand, being treaded like this was somewhat humiliating. Although, mixed in with it were a feeling of pride and arousal. It felt almost like a complement that men thought you sexy enough to check-out.

You arrived at the club and the bouncer waved you in. Such were the perks of being a girl. As you entered, Doe pulled you aside.

“Listen Alyson, I’m not going to be by your side the entire night so their is something I need you to know, whatever you do, don’t accept drinks from men. You understand?”

“Of course, I’m not an idiot.”

And with that, you and Doe entered the club. As a man, you had never been to a club before, unfortunately the guy who did your fakes was a terrible artist. It was a completely new experience. Loud music, dancing, ****, all these foreign concepts were thrusted on you at once. Doe taught you the art of flirting, and weather because of the witch or your own inane talent, you were particularly skilled in it. Reveling in the chance to be a completely different person, you flirted with any and every man in the room. You quickly became the bell of the ball, and men could only dream of one day sleeping with you. The night progressed, you groped and got groped. Which you found much more pleasurable as a woman. And as more **** was consumed you eventually lost track of Doe. That’s when he appeared.

You don’t remember his name, or his face for that matter. All you remember is an outstretched hand holding a red cup.