The Were-Woman

The music in the club was making Michael's head pound. He leant against the bar, trying to attract the attention of the bar staff. God knows he's far too sober to enjoy this. Michael hated crowded rooms. Let alone crowded rooms full of people cheering, singing and dancing. The only good part about it were the girls in cute outfits. Low cut tops... Tight, tight jeans. His eyes wander over to his friends girlfriend. The way she was grinding her ass against his cock while his hands roamed her body like he owned her. Quinton always had the best luck with -

"Excuse me! Sir! Did you want to order something?" The cute brunette behind the bar yells to Michael over the music, snapping him out of his day dream. She's wearing a black shirt, brown apron and blue denim jeans. She seems to be mixed race but a precise ethnicity is hard to place.

Michael smiles back and nods, trying to sound charming. "One coke and jack- Jack and coke please!" Nailed it. Definitely going to be taking her back home tonight. She just laughs in response and nods. The type of pity laugh that he's heard from all of the women he's flirted with over the years. He turns his attention away, back to the club while she ducks down under the bar to grab something.

Ethan was on the other side of the club chatting up what looked to be two close friends. The buxom blonde girl looked absolutely smitten by him, while her slightly chubbier, dark haired friend seemed to be actively trying to pull her away from him. Not that Michael could blame her. Ethan seemed to ooze trouble out of his pores. He had the most experience with women out of all Michael's friend group, as well as the most insane stories.

"Come to the club Michael. We'll help you come out of your shell. You haven't been the same since Vanessa dumped you..." Then they vanish off into their own worlds. It's a routine Michael had heard a thousand times. The brunette behind the bar comes back up and finishes making his drink, sliding it across the bar to Micahel's waiting hand. He slides her his credit card which she nimbly catches and scans across her machine, before smoothly slidings it back to him with a warm smile on her face. She has that look in her eyes that says, "I think you're kind of cute but in a dorky, never going to touch with a 10 foot pole but fun to watch, kind of cute." Not wanting to look at that condescending face anymore, he quickly takes his drink and starts to make his way throw the writhing, pulsing crowd of club goers back to his friends, my safety net. First stop, Quinton. While he doesn't want to cock block Ethan, he is slowly filling up with jealousy.

"You in a rush somewhere?" The seductive voice seems to cut effortlessly through the noise of the club. As if everything else just faded into the background leaving only that melodic, goregous voice to focus on. As if in a daze, Michael turns around, trying to find the source of such a wonderful voice. Behind him stands a breath taking hispanic girl with brown eyes that seem to draw his gaze magnetically towards them. Her long, straight, thick, brunette hair flows over her left shoulder. Her large breasts are proudly on display in her black, scoop neck shirt. Her outfit is completed with a devilishly short and tempting black mini-skirt and a pair of black heels that make her legs look so long and tempting. Her lush, kissable lips forming into a seductive smirk as Michael just drinks her in. "This is normally the part where you introduce yourself." She laughs, giving him an amused smile.

Normally girls look at Michael with pity or contempt. As if they just laugh and talk to be nice and secretly wanting him to leave them alone. Like the girl behind the bar and every other girl before her. Yet, this girl seems different... Her eyes burn burn with a fire and hunger that seems reserved just for him. "Want to dance?" She asks sweetly. Her hand lifting up to her shoulder and her index finger slowly tracing from her shoulder... Down her collarbone... Before stopping at her sternum. Right above her incredible cleavage...