Vanessa’s night had dragged on for what felt like hours, with her father in town she was forced to spend her night in a long flowing gown, to sit around a bunch of business men who only looked at her breast. All of the conversations lacked depth, or were obviously poor attempts at business ventures that she knew would never be successful. Vanessa excused herself for a moment, sneaking off to go smoke a joint in the bathroom. She had to get out of that hotel and into the bustling scenes of Miami. She called one of her friends immediately, begging for them to save her from the misery of having to hear one more person ask what she was doing in her life, or telling her about a job they could give her — one she knew would require to be on her knees for extended periods of time.
“Hey Dad, I’m going to head out. One of my friends is having a major emergency” she whispered to the older latino man. With a wave of his arm he dismissed her, she said her goodbyes, and ran for the exit to meet her friend Remi, out in her cherry red convertible. “Thank you for saving me” she giggled. Her friend handed her a bag of clothes to change into knowing that the moment she stepped out in the long dress the entire club would laugh at her. She changed into a black lacy bralette, the covered nothing but her nipples with a delicately sewn applique along with her favorite booties that made the somewhat short girl stand a little taller than she normally did.
Immediately into the club scene, she could smell the bodies grinding together, the pre-regret, the booze and the weed. All things she was accustomed too. She grabbed her friend’s hand as they started grinding on each other, to the rhythm of the music. She felt someone’s hand firmly on her waist and decided to let them guide her hips to the music. @whctelines