A group of guys of seemingly various economic brackets playing poker

Rachel turned the corner to find who had called to her. He was a short, squat man hanging out a room full of masculine voices.

"Uh, I'm looking for Raoul. I'm looking the party."

"You're looking to party?" he grinned, leering eyes going up and down her sexy body. "You're in the right place!" he said, holding the door wider. "Raoul! Why didn't you tell us you'd called for a girl? Come in, sweet cheeks."

Nervous, but excited to at last find the party Rachel strode forward confidently, which had the unfortunate effect of stretching her labia lips a tiny bit more, courtesy of the straps between them and stockings.

"What's your name?" the guy asked when she entered.

"Rachel," she said automatically, frowning, then wiping her face clean. There were a bunch of guys in the room, most playing poker around a large table. They seemed a mix of races and styles of dress, some looking like they had money, others looking like they were working-class, and others fitting somewhere in between. She didn't recognize any of them, but then maybe they were the behind-the-scenes folks, the producers and people that funded it all.

Keeping a smile plastered on her face she nodded to each as they were introduced.

"...Sammy, Raoul and I'm Bobby," he finished. Rachel blinked, dazed by the bombardment. She was sure she'd remember Raoul because he wasn't the Raoul she was looking for, but other than Bobby the other half-dozen were a blur of leering faces.

"So, you were looking to party, huh?" Bobby moved a little closer.

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, though something in his tone made her nervous.

"I was looking for, um, a C party," she said, touching the hem of the skirt with the thought of pulling it down, but when the men's eyes followed her hand she stopped herself just short.

"Or maybe the B party," she smiled brightly, retreating from her pelvis to tug subtly at the top of her dress. Was it her imagination or was the collar's straps coming loose? And did their eyes all follow her hand again?

"But what I'd really like," she continued, emphasizing really like a pleading schoolgirl as she tucked her hands behind her, giving the top of the skirt a slight tug, "Is the A party!"