Time to go clubbing

By the time she got the fake ID, Eleanor was ready. She'd found a club that was popular with young people, gotten new makeup and a new pair of shoes, and steeled herself.

On Friday night, she went to her closet, reached far in the back, and pulled out an outfit she wasn't sure she'd ever have the chance - or guts - to wear. She had bought it on a whim, hoping to one day have the confidence for it. She took a deep breath and put it on.

The top was minimal, a white crop top that covered not much more than a bralette. She didn't - couldn't - wear a bra under it. With it was a short - very short - black pleather skirt. It hugged her ass and showed off most of her thighs. It was tight enough that without her spandex panties, her cock would show even when soft. Her new shoes were high-heeled platform booties, black with silver buckles.

And to complete the look, Eleanor added a few touches that she hoped would help her stand out and look...well, slutty. She put on dark eyeshadow, black lipstick, and bright red nail polish. And she put on a black leather choker with a metal o-ring over her throat.

Eleanor looked at herself in the mirror. She almost couldn't believe the woman she saw looking back at her. She looked hot. And she looked ready to get laid.

Before she could change her mind, Eleanor grabbed her phone, ID, and credit card, called an Uber, and headed outside quickly so her parents wouldn't notice her outfit. Her ride came, and she was off to the club.

Eleanor's heart was racing as she stood in line for the bouncer, but when she got to the front and handed over her ID, he gave it a quick glance, handed it back, and waved her in. Holy shit. Here she was.

She went straight to the bar. It was early enough in the night that it wasn't completely packed yet, but the bar was crowded and it took a few minutes for her to get a bartender's attention. Eleanor had been drunk a few times, so she wasn't a total newbie, but she wasn't an expert either - not a time to try to get fancy. "Gin and tonic," she yelled over the music, opened a tab, and walked away with her drink.

She was of two minds, trying to pace herself drinking versus trying to finish so she could go dance. Dance brain won out, and Eleanor drank quickly. Leaving her glass on a table already crowded with discarded dishes, she made her way to the dance floor, unable to keep the smile from her face. She loved dancing, but she'd never gotten to dance in a setting like this.

Her face was flushed from the drink, and as Eleanor entered the dance floor already filling with people, and felt the pulsing beat of the loud music, she started to move. For a bit, she let herself forget her mission and just reveled in the energy, closing her eyes, swaying her hips, raising her arms. She danced energetically and fluidly, feeling the rhythm and the emotion of the music, swept away by ****, by people, and by rhythm.

After a few minutes, she settled down a little, still happily dancing but less euphorically. She looked around now, people watching, scoping out anyone potentially interesting. There were many beautiful people here tonight.