Strangers (Midge and Steven 5, 11)
Midge'd been drinking. She wasn't drunk, but she'd been drinking. And there was this guy. And she had found an unused lounge in the club, one complete with a plush sectional couch. Probably a VIP room of some sort but this wasn't the kind of night for a VIP type of clientele. And with the drinking and the guy and the couch Midge knew what the state law said about consent but she did not care. He was beautiful. And warm. And his eyes looked as sad as hers and she just couldn't stand the ache anymore. He'd been drinking, too. She tasted tequila when he kissed her.
In the room she gently pushed him onto the couch as she stripped off her shirt. Midge didn't care that she probably sparkled a little bit in the semi-darkness. It didn't matter. He didn't know her name anyway. He wouldn't remember her after this anyway.