A place to dance

Freddy skipped and hopped and trilled, much to Faye's delight. She liked the easiness of the old man, the fun he liked to have, and determination to remain vibrant and alive that was lacking from so many at the Mission. She found herself frolicking alongside him as they meandered through the back alleys of Fawndale's business district. She knew that it was only 10 AM and that she might be spotted, but she was far, far too drunk to care. Freddy, to his credit, was also far, far too drunk to care about the consequences. He laughed when he shouldered open the back door to the VFW and led Faye down a flight of dark stairs.

He fumbled for the light at the bottom and found the door down a narrow hallway. "Where are we, Freddy?" Faye said with a chuckle. He smiled his wicked smile and opened the door to the small room he was squatting in. A stained mattress with surprisingly nice sheets was against the corner, and a pile of empty Everclear bottles littered the opposite one. A single bare lightbulb illuminated the room, and a milk crate served as a seat. “May i?” He asked and took her by the hand and by her tiny waist, and started to dance, ballroom style.

Faye laughed and twirled and her head spun. “Are you always like that?” She asked him. “Only when it´s during the week and i´m with a bombshell … and I feel randy.” She was giggling and looping around when she barely percieved his hand sliding from her mid back to the spot where her juicy ass started to push out her short skirt. "Whoops!" he said with a hearty laugh. She laughed with him, two drunks to a pod.