A country dance club

Rick should have guessed they'd head for some country joint from the shaved heads. The four SUVs all headed for the valet parking so Rick let Kat out and drove around the block until he found a place to park for free.

Ten minutes later, he paid his ten dollar cover charge, wished he was still getting massage tips, and stepped into the bar.

It was a big place on the second floor of a shopping mall with disco balls hanging from the ceiling, a DJ playing country music, and about four guys for every girl.

The girls, he had to admit, were hot. Some wore jeans that looked like they'd been painted on and little tops that tied below their tits while others wore swirly skirts and dresses that showed off all sorts of legs, from a bit chunky to skinny with everything in between.

The dance of choice seemed to be the Texas two-step, a variation of the swing. He'd never gotten the dance when Jan had tried to make him dance it with her but the patterns made more sense now that he'd more tightly integrated his mind and body.

Usha and Kat were already chatting with the shaved-head gang from black hat, and so Rick bought himself a beer, leaned against the bar, and checked out the scene.

"Wanna dance?"

The woman was a little older than he but definitely fuckable. She was one of the ones with the swirly dress look, and her large breasts looked like they were about to pop out. It was, Rick decided, a look she was cultivating and it certainly worked for her.

Although he lived in Texas, Rick had never been much on country music and he'd never been much of a dancer, hence Jan's comments about the poker up his ass. But he certainly would look conspicuous if he turned down a hot girl in a bar where girls were definitely in the minority.

"You know, I'd love to." He put his beer down, took the woman in his arms, and, with the beat, stepped into a quick two-step.

"Ooooh, we've got a live one here. Where have you been hiding, sweetheart?"

"I'm Rick," he admitted.

"Donna."

Donna, it turned out, was out drinking with her girlfriends from work. Which meant, the second that dance ended, another girl from Donna's office waited to drag him out on the dance floor.

He kept an eye on Kat and Usha, who seemed completely indifferent to his efforts on the dance floor and tried not to laugh when they dragged the shave-heads out to dance. One of them had at least some idea of stepping with the beat. The others flexed their muscles and nonverbally tried to persuade the world that they had big dicks so they didn't need to dance.

Once upon a time, Rick would have been impressed. No more.

After two hours on the dance floor, Rick let himself be dragged over to the table the work party had claimed, just in time to get a text from Kat.

"Get your own ride home. Do not go to the black hat HQ. They have booby traps. Bunch of ammosexuals."

Well shit. Talk about violating the agreements. And here Kat had gotten onto him about wanting to change the plan.

"You know, Rick," one of the office girls, he thought her name was Tanya, ran a finger up the inner seam of his jeans, "a couple of the girls were going back to my place to... continue the party. Want to come?"