It was the wiry young geek with his pink clammy hand on my shoulder.
"Erm, sorry to bother you misshh," he slurred, "but I'd love you to give me a dansh if you may."
Geez, I thought. This would be a long night. I guided him over to one of the chairs, and asked him his name.
"Drew." I chuckled to myself that he was so nervous a one-worder was all he could muster.
"You just calm yourself," I said. I began to let my curves flow to the music as I saw his eyes widen at the sight of my skin so tantalisingly close. As Roger, deep in the mists of my subconscious this body was kind of attractive and what it was doing with this geek repulsive.
Despite his pigeon chest I found myself kneeling across his lap sliding my shoulders from side to side. More shocking was when I clipped off my bra, leant into him, and whispered in his ear, " do you want to pull it free?" His hand reached tentatively out and pulled it down and free. I cupped those luscious breasts close to his face. His breath on them felt wrong but I knew it was money. Roger within me felt so sordid.