Fetish Stories: Friday night hunting

I'm ready to relieve this weeks stress and the thin layer of latex I've chosen signals the start of this week's release. It covers my skin so tightly that I feel like just maybe I traded my old skin in for this particularly attractive covering. Today is Friday, and Friday nights are the only time I can come out like this. My work skin is shed and I am dressed like a predator, looking for someone to satisfy me. The rest of my week belongs to someone else, but Friday nights belong to me.

I walk into the night club a few blocks from my apartment. The night breeze chills my body and I feel rejuvenated. I have to treasure every moment I get to spend like this, as the real me. I know that eventually I'll have give all of my time so someone else, so it's important to live it up now.

I stride past the bouncer and make my way in. Half of the people here I know on a personal level, and they are similarly donned in their favorite outfits. I take note of my friends who are wearing some new things this week and make my way to have a seat at the bar. This club isn't just for the enlighten ones like my friends and myself, but also for those who are still bound by their preconceptions of humanity and sexuality. I make it a goal of mine once a week to show one of these people what living really is.

The club has a reputation for being open to anyone and any type of orientation so I have a wide variety of flavors to choose from. My method of capture varies week to week. Some weeks I take the back seat and let them come to me, some weeks I want to feel the thrill of the hunt so I'm more aggressive. This week I don't really want to have to hunt around so I'm being more on the passive side, but not worried. I look good enough not to worry tonight.

I order a drink and scope out the room to see any prospects and I am not disappointed. There are plenty here that don't look like they have been broken in yet and I feel I have a good chance for some entertainment later on.

I make brief eye contact with a woman talking to a friend of mine. She's wearing a red low-cut dress that just screams that she needs to get laid. I would move in, but I stick to my guns. I am confident that someone will come up, they always do. It's just a matter of time.

I order my second drink and a man who looks to be quite a bit older than me sits beside me at the bar and strikes up a conversation. From the looks of him he has money, but I'm not in it for the money, and I'm certainly not in it to give some old man with a bad marriage a good time either. I have higher standards so I brush him off as quickly as he came. This repeats with four separate men until one I approve of approaches me.

He's dressed in jeans and a dress shirt, which is unusual for an upscale club like this one. His casual attire entices me more than it makes me wonder what he was thinking coming in here looking like that. All it takes is a casual conversation and an invitation to my apartment and he's all mine to play with for tonight. I hope he knows what's coming to him because I've had a stressful week and he's about to get the brunt of it.