What a Fake ID Can Do

The girls and I got to the club to find it already packed at only 10 pm. It really wasn’t that surprising because there were no sporting events tonight like there usually were. But nevertheless, the place was filled to capacity. The bouncer hardly looked at the ID’s we flashed before letting us in. I smiled and looked at the crowd below us on the dance floor from the entrance balcony. There were bodies everywhere, smashed together, dancing, grinding, drinking, and everything else you imagine when you think of a nightclub.

“Alright girls, you know the drill. I have the dance floor, Becca has the bar, Celine gets the VIP lounge, and Danielle gets to float. And nobody, I mean nobody, steals my dancing thunder!” the shouted in agreement with giggles and we separated in the directions of our ‘stations’ as we called them.

“Ariel, what the hell are you doing here?” a downer by the name of Patrick Sharp questioned me as I hit the stairs towards the dance floor. He happened to be my older brother. He was out because his family was out of town with his in-laws and he was stuck here for work, also known as playing for the Chicago Blackhawks.

“I’m sorry, sir, you must have me confused with someone else. My name’s Anna, not Ariel! Ta-ta now,” he looked at me with a glare but I ignored him and swung my hips towards the dance floor. I slid between bodies and found one guy dancing on the edge of a big group and decided he would be a fun dance partner. I once again, swung my hips, but grinded them to him. I looked over my shoulder and apologized, claiming I hadn’t seen him there. He smiled and just pulled me back towards him. We danced for a song or two before he claimed to have to find his girl friend. I shrugged it off because a line dance came on and I was making my way to the middle to show off.

The girls came over to join me but stayed off to the sides a bit, so everyone could still see me and the moves I was doing when the song got underway. At every step I was grinding the air or swinging my hips with extra emphasis to make it clear I knew what I was doing and what trouble it could get me in. When the song ended, I had three guys heading my way. I announced that I needed a drink and all of them volunteered to buy me one.

“You, I’d like a dirty martini please,” I batted my eyelashes for him. He smiled and ran off towards the bar. “And you, I need a new dance partner,” I pulled the second, more handsome one, towards the dance floors center. We got there and he pulled me so close that our chests were touching. He looked awfully familiar but I couldn’t place him, so I just danced. We kept up with the song and he only left when I went to have the drink with the other guy. But he showed up just as I finished the first martini and ordered me a margarita instead, his treat.

“You owe me another dance for that ten dollar margarita.”

“I didn’t ask for it,” I reminded him with a smirk. He grinned.

“Maybe not, but you did down it. It’s only fair,” he held out his hand and I graciously took it. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he came up behind me to start our grinding. I took a chance to look at the night’s outfit. It was a simple black v-neck with my daisy duke shorts and cowboy boots. My dead boyfriend’s dog tags hung around my neck as well.

“Nah, you should see me when I go all out,” I told him.

“Or maybe we should see each other in our birthday suits?” he suggested.

“But we just met,” I played innocent.

“Hunny, the way you dance, you’re asking for something more than this,” he replied.

“I may need a few more drinks to think about it,” I replied with an extra grind of my hips on his manhood.

“But what if I can’t wait?” he pushed his hips towards me and let me feel how hard he was for me.

“We can’t have that, now can we?” I turned to face him with a smile. I took his hand and led him to the bar. I whispered in Becca’s ear that I was leaving and to not wait up before I headed out with the cutie who was awfully familiar.