No. He goes to a strip club.

Cary sighed, and stood out on Evelyn's balcony. He was pretty sure she was in a sex coma. At this point, it'd be unsafe for her to keep fucking, he was pretty sure. He was no longer a virgin, and he was realizing why there were people who wanted a cigarette after sex. He never had a cigarette before either; he wasn't even really sure what a smoker got from a cigarette, why they enjoyed it, but standing out here on a starlit night, it would at least give him something to do with his hands and pass the time.

It was only 9:30; they had been fucking for two hours straight, and he wasn't tired. Or sated. Wasn't that the strangest damn thing? His dick still wouldn't stay down.

Before the Dickening happened to him, he was a little worried that he was still a virgin. It wasn't wrong or strange for a 19 year old to not have slept with someone, sure, but there was part of him that was worried that he had set himself up to be the 40 year old virgin. And there was the little voice that said that if he didn't learn to fuck now, he'd never get good at it.

So over the last year, he often thought about seeing an escort or a prostitute or something. The thing was, he didn't even know where to find something like that. There was a place advertising Asian Massage not far from the office, but the old him didn't want to assume and get charged with sexual **** on some poor masseuse or something.

The only place he knew any sex workers worked was the Night Before Lounge, a strip club downtown; well, no, there were other strip clubs in town, but this one didn't require patrons to be 21 or older. He hadn't plucked up the courage to go there before. He didn't want go by himself and be that guy, but he didn't want to go with someone else, either.

But now, he had a big fucking cock, so why not?

He strode in, expecting Sodom and Gomorrah, and was disappointed to find a sad, slightly greasy, smoky bar with some half-way pretty girl dancing on the stage. Some guy were crowded around the stage, but not a lot. It was just a Wednesday night. Suddenly, he found himself second-guessing himself. It was the first time he felt self-doubt in a few days. What was he going to do, fuck the dancer on stage in front of everybody?

Actually, the lower half of his body seemed to think that was a great idea. His fucking big dick was starting to ache, even though he had plowed Evelyn less than half an hour ago.

He saddled up to the bar. The bartender was, surprisingly, a cute girl. Short hair with an undercut, tattoos up and down her left arm. Much more of a punk rock vibe than the club. She wasn't in lingerie or an obviously stripper-outfit, but her outfit could be described as slutty. Low-cut white tank top, red skirt with black stocking underneath. Obviously, she was dressed for tips. "I don't think you're old enough to order anything there, champ," she smiled, pointing at the big black 'X' on his hand.

"Yeah, yeah, I don't know," he said , leaning back on his barstool. It was awkward but it let him spread his legs and his arms a bit, and really let the musk flow. "I don't know what I was expecting to find here. You're cute."

She looked at him quizzically. She was sniffing the air. A lot of his musk had to be overcome by cheap perfume and, Cary didn't know, pole grease? But whatever pheromones he was pumping out must have cut right through to her weak female brain.

"I'm, uh, Betty," she said, suddenly unsure of herself.

"Really? You don't seem like a Betty."

"Only at the club," she admitted after a second, her left hand massaging her right elbow. Innocent enough, but it had the pleasant effecting of squeezing her breasts together. "Liz outside it, but I'm Betty here."

"How about you give me a drink?" he said, deciding to push his luck. Cary didn't drink, outside of the party Melissa Grabberston threw after high school graduation. "Bourbon."

"On the rocks, or neat?" she said, trying to remain calm and control. She had guys flirt with her before, guys with more game than this guy. Why did it feel like he was underneath her shirt, feeling her up already? Why did she like it? She was bi, but she barely liked men, especially ones who came to the club.

"Yes...?" He forgot which was which, "Just give me a drink. Its fine."

She leaned over to give him the bourbon on the rocks. She did not have to lean over that much to hand him a drink. She licked the side of his face.

"Holy shit, I can't believe I just did that," she said, immediately covering her mouth with her hand.

"Is there someplace private here you could take me to?" he said. He pointed down to his lap, "You, uh, woke the dragon."

She got up on her tippy toes to peer over the bar at her customer.

"Holy fucking shit," she murmured.