Club Slut Transformation

Today began like any other warm Spring day on the Maryland shore. Marilyn stared out the window of the Dunkin Donuts at the busy retail street. Over sized SUVs and Ford F-150 crew cab trucks were parallel parked beyond the donut shop's windows. A recently washed Hummer slowed, its red body paint shining in the early morning sun. The driver, a bleach blond wearing thick black sunglasses snapped her head from left to right. It was the morning rush for the Starbucks across the street. There were no parking spots available, at least none that would fit her vehicle. Still, there was one narrow gap between a silver Lexus and a fire hydrant. Marilyn's eyes were drawn to the Hummer's blinker. 'Considerate' she thought, as the woman started backing in to the space.

Marilyn looked away. She didn't need to share in the drama unfolding outside. Her own late model Honda sat eight blocks away outside her apartment house. It hadn't run in a month and without insurance that was just as well. Walking was great exercise and in her mid-thirties keeping in good shape bordered on an obsession. She felt in great shape and loved the way so many men and women noticed her. She loved how often people confused her for someone much younger. Her short cropped hair, long legs and pert breasts added to the effect. Once the weather got warmer, her midriff tops and short shorts would definitely come out of the closet.

Taking another sip of her decaf Marilyn tapped her manicured finger nails on the folded newspaper laying on the table beside her half eaten jelly donut. The Want Ads were horrible again today. There were at least a hundred jobs available in Baltimore County. Starbucks needed a barista. Subway needed a new assistant manager. The Kinko's down the street needed a night manager. None of the jobs paid enough to live in Baltimore County.

Finding new, meaningful, livable work as a financial consultant was not realistic. Finding a McJob where your potential employer didn't think a 36 year old financial consultant wasn't overqualified was also not realistic. At this point Marilyn was running out
of options. Walking home everyday past the run down strip club near her apartment would mean pausing just a little longer each day. The small building with its white cinder blocks and neon pink stripes always had a 'Help Wanted' sign in the window. Having done some modeling in her 20s, Marilyn knew a little about how to use her body to make money, but stripping was beyond her dignity. Exposing herself like that in front of a bunch of drunken men seemed. . . degrading.

Pushing the want ads away, she flipped through a local events magazine. While her bank account was drawing down by the day, the cover at the local clubs wasn't so high as to make her think twice about going out on a weekend. Unemployment was harder than work. It was like an unwanted vacation, making every weekday full of nothing but the threat that the next day and the day after that and the next week would be exactly the same. That was why Marilyn treated her weekends like vacations from her week. She needed release. She needed
to get away from herself. Most of the local clubs catered to a younger crowd, but there were more than a few bouncers who thought she was part of that younger crowd. Not that she used the clubs to pick up men or women. She had enough sex with her live-in boyfriend. But then again over the past year most of that sex was a good way to avoid paying all of her half of the rent.

Finishing her coffee Marilyn closed the events magazine. On the back cover, in the middle of all the 1-976 chat lines was an advertisement for the AdultChatNetwork website. Marilyn laughed a little to herself. Sliding off her chair and crumpling the want ads into a thick wad that would fit inside her paper coffee cup Marilyn thought about her last night of chatting on the AdultChatNetwork website. She hadn't really met anyone on the site and she suspected most people on the site were either too shy or too unlike their profiles to really hook up with anyone else. Still, she enjoyed the flirting. A couple of local guys from Baltimore accused her of being a cock tease right before she signed off last night. It was true, in part. Leading guys on in cybersex was one
thing she could do during her week to liven things up a bit.

Smiling, Marilyn walked past the counter.

"Back tomorrow Marilyn?" Marty smiled, wiping the confectioner's sugar from his hands onto the front of his crisp white apron.

"Probably, " Marilyn said. "I'll always need coffee. "

After her back was turned, Marty's eyes drifted down to Marilyn's swaying ass. Her black jeans hugged its curves so well they only made his hard-on worse. After last night, just seeing Marilyn made his thick 7" cock struggle against his slacks. Marty smiled and let his hand settle under his apron. As far as Marilyn knew, he and she had never flirted in person. But last night she verbally jacked him
off while letting his brother Adam eat her pussy in cybersex. God, he didn't know which he loved more -- AdultChatNetwork or knowing that Marilyn spent every fourth Friday night at Club Rendezvous.

Later that night.

The sea air was warm for so early in the Spring. The light breeze blowing through Baltimore's old warehouse district smelled of salt and Channel No. 5. Standing in the flickering lights dancing off the red brick walls outside Club Rendezvous, Marilyn wondered if she had put on a little too much perfume. She was thankful for arriving late though. For one of the hottest clubs in Baltimore County, at this hour the line outside was short. Thirty or forty singles and couples dressed in skimpy clothes shivered in the cool breeze. Everyone in line close to her looked in their early to mid twenties. Some, Marilyn suspected were probably a bit younger
than that despite whatever their IDs claimed.

For the evening Marilyn hoped she dressed the part. Fitting in with a 'younger' crowd wasn't too hard, but as the months crept toward her 37th birthday she was getting a little self conscious. She had a young face and her page boy haircut showed off her face well. She had applied only a touch of mascara and some red lip liner. Her soft white silk blouse was tied off in a knot a couple inches above her
pierced belly button. The shirt's top three buttons, dangerously undone, showed off the curve of her breasts while hiding the white lace push-up bra supporting them. Nervously smoothing her pleated plaid mini skirt, Marilyn moved forward with the crowd.

Near the tinted glass of the club's front door Marilyn stopped in front of the bouncer. He was tall and kept his head shaved. His charcoal gray T shirt was stretched to the breaking point over his chiseled chest. Marilyn stared at his biceps and a Navy tattoo barely visible on his milk-chocolate skin. He smiled at her in the flashing lights. "No cover for ladies tonight honey, " he said. Eye candy was always welcome in any club, especially eye candy that looked like it was ready to get eaten. "Go on in and enjoy yourself. "

"Thanks" Marilyn said, closing her hand over the wrinkled $20 in her palm.

Inside the club techno music was pounding in the smoke filled air. With no cigarette smoking allowed, dry ice created a pale mist that pulsated in pale shades of blue, red, and lime green with the flashing strobe lights over the central dance floor. A long glass topped bar fronted the dance floor while tall steel bar tables were filled by couples and crowds of laughing and drinking people on the other side the central room. Looking up above the dance floor Marilyn could see two floors of VIP tables and booths. She could barely make
out the shadowy forms of people dancing on the third floor VIP dance floor. There were lots of wild rumors about what went on up on that floor. Who got invited up there? What kinds of dancing, dirty or otherwise, did people do up there? Marilyn was curious, but doubted she would ever get such an invite or even be bold enough to do such dirty dancing.

Finding a place at the crowded bar Marilyn asked, "Miller Light please!" After yelling her request to the bartender she turned and watched the crowd on the dance floor. Some new pop song throbbed out of the sound system. Shakira, or Britney, or Ashlee Simpson was yelling through a synthesizer for her man to take her home all night. Bodies showing more skin than trendy clothing crushed against each other on the dance floor. With arms in the air, wrapped around a dance partner, hands resting on asses, and crotches grinding
into crotches it was hard to tell who was dancing with who.

When the bartender returned he held a bright orange colored mixed drink. With a rim frosted in ice and topped with a blue plastic sword piercing a cherry and orange wedge, the drink was in what had to be one of the biggest glasses Marilyn had seen. As he put a napkin down in front of her, Marilyn thought there must be some mistake. "I ordered --" she began to shout over the noise.

"Compliments of the gentleman at the end of the bar," said the bartender, smiling so that the crow's feet around his bloodshot eyes made him look much older than his salt-n-pepper hair suggested. Setting the drink on the napkin he pointed with his free hand down to a bend in the figure-eight shaped bar.

Unless she was looking in the wrong spot, the bartender was pointing out a guy who at best was at least ten years younger than Marilyn. Standing against the bar wearing a short sleeved ribbed shirt on what was an awesome body, he was strikingly good looking from a distance. Wavy brown hair with blond highlights, strong cheekbones, sea-green eyes and a great tan totally gave him a Ty Pennington look from that home make-over show. When he raised his beer in a salute to Marilyn's stare, he showed a fabulous smile. Marilyn felt like she needed to turn her head and check behind her before smiling back. Maybe some gorgeous big boobed model had walked through the door and was standing behind her waving to Mr. Dreamy. She risked smiling back and mouthing a 'thank you. '
Of course, she thought, in such a noisy place a mouthed 'thank you' could look like any number of things. 'Take me' or 'fuck me' or 'let me worship your cock' would all have been equally valid interpretations.

After a moment he was standing beside her. "Hey, I'm Adam, " he said, sliding his beer onto the bar beside her drink. "I noticed you when you walked in. It is nice to meet you in person. " He paused and changed his mind about his beer. Picking it off the bar he said, "You know, up close and in person. "

Marilyn smiled. If she were ten years younger and blond this would be the part where she giggled and wrapped a strand of hair around her index finger while her knees melted. "You must have great eyes to pick me out of this crowd. A lot of other girls running around here tonight, "she said, looking past Adam for a moment, just for a moment, to the dance floor.

"Yeah, " he said, leaning against the bar. "But none of them caught my attention. "

"I -- I should thank you for the drink. "

"Don't mention it. The drink's a house special. The 'Intimate Rendezvous' I think it is called," Adam said. Looking at the over-sized glass he thought that if anything got this woman drunk, it would be that monster of a mixed drink. "I think it is kinda like a daquiri
- all orangey, some rum, but with a kick. "

Marilyn nodded and picked the drink up off the bar. Swirling the straw around in the thick frozen mixture, she pushed the plastic sword out of the way and wrapped her lips around the straw. Looking up at Adam she sucked on the straw. The drink was good. Citrus flavored and mellow at first. It was after a few sips that the kick of a hard liquor hit her mouth. Still, she drank some more. "Whew! You weren't kidding about the kick. "

"Yeah, it is definitely a good reason to come here, that and meeting beautiful women like you, " Adam said, leaning closer.

Marilyn tried not to look like a deer in the headlights. If the guy wasn't so cute he'd be coming on way too strong. She took another long sip of her drink.

A light shade of red shown through the tan on Adam's cheeks. He closing his eyes he hung his head slightly and said, "I'm sorry. That was way too upfront for me. In another minute you're probably going to dump that drink on me and a minute after that your boyfriend is gonna walk through the door and make sure I go home with a good reminder of why not to be so bold with a woman I think happens to be beautiful. " Looking up he smiled sheepishly.

Laughing, Marilyn pulled her drink to her chest. Some of the frozen orange liquid splashed up between the folds of her shirt and onto her breasts. Without much concern for what Adam saw or didn't see she wiped at the cold liquid. "I think, " she said, peering down at the orange streaks on her boobs, "that in another minute I better find a place for my drink that isn't all over you or me. "

Looking up at Adam, having accidentally brushed open a fourth button on her blouse, she added, "And a minute after that I think you should ask me to dance. "

Adam smiled. "Sure. Right this way. " He reached out with his free hand and took hold of Marilyn's hand. Leading her forward past the dance floor he held his beer up in the air like a torch with his right hand. After squeezing through the crowd at the dance floor's edge, they reached an empty table. It was small and metal and, like the others, was high off the floor with two matching metal chairs. There were already two beer bottles on the table. Adam gestured to the chair nearest Marilyn.

Sitting down, Marilyn crossed her legs. Her skirt moved up her thighs by a couple inches just by sitting down. Crossing her legs added a few more dangerous inches and gave anyone a glimpse of her Victoria's Secret white lace panties if they looked. Adam was standing next to the other chair. He didn't seem like he wanted to wait too long for that dance. Taking one more sip of her drink Marilyn put the half empty?!?! glass down beside an empty bottle of Miller Light. "Are you sure this table's not taken?" she asked, over the throbbing beat of the dance floor. Now that she looked closely, there were three beer bottles, a half empty bowl of peanuts and a couple of crumbled napkins.

Adam nodded. "It has been my table since I got here. I'm not sure who threw those napkins on here, or whose beer that is. I don't drink the stuff. And I didn't think they served piss beer here. " Moving toward her, he said, "C'mon. I think this Britney Spears song is ending after a few more lines of Baby, Baby, Baby. "