[Runesmith]

He was actually the kind of guy Lynn would have flirted with - a tan, muscular stud good enough for a one-night stand, probably a bit younger than herself. Definitely not someone Lynn could recognize. Still, the blackmailer would not brazenly make her come out for a hump session if he thought she could recognize him, would he? She turned down his offer of a drink much to the chagrin of Jasmine, who immediately started flirting with him. However, the guy, obviously rattled by Lynn's curt rejection, stammered a few words and melted back in to the crowd.

"Hey, why'd you just blow that guy off, instead of blowing him? He's a hunk," protested Jasmine. "Aren't you out to have fun?"

"Tonight, I want to be the predator, and not the prey," replied Lynn, surprised at the steeliness in her voice. Jasmine appeared surprised as well, started to say something, then thought better of it. That was probably a very rare moment, when Jasmine swallowed what she was going to say, thought Lynn to herself.

The next guy had a pick up line ready. "Hey, is your name Google?" asked his voice from over her shoulder. "'Cos you have everything I am searching for." Before Lynn could come up with a clever retort, she realized that the man was talking to Jasmine. Because of the stalker's plan, Lynn had assumed that all men who would come up to them would be hitting on her. Jasmine's exotic looks and sluttiness obviously out-shined any effect that Lynn's revealing black dress had.

Jasmine gave a giggle, as if it was the first time she had heard that lame line. "Oh, you must have been searching for hot Asian nurse porn then, you naughty boy," she said, patting the empty space next to her on the bench seat. The guy immediately slid in without hesitation, and Lynn found that to be irritating. "My name's Ron, but you can call me tonight or tomorrow," came the next lame line, and Jasmine giggled again and moved closer to him. "That depends on what you are packing, Ron," she said suggestively.

The man ordered a round for them, and Lynn watched Jasmine flirting shamelessly with him. When Jasmine started groping his crotch, Lynn had had enough. She got up and headed to the dance floor. The two martinis, one courtesy of Ron, had given her the courage that she needed. She zeroed in on a tall, skinny black guy dancing solo on the floor. He gave her an appreciative smile as she shimmied up to him, trying to match his moves. The guy slowed down, realizing that the girl in front of him was not even at a beginner level. He matched her awkward moves as she slowly moved closer.

"Imma gone foa a minit an' u already fixin' up with some ho?" came an irate voice behind her, an instant before she was rudely pushed aside by a curvy black girl in a tight purple dress. The man and the woman started arguing on the dance floor, and Lynn immediately put some space between her and them, weaving through the dancing throng.

Immediately, she spotted another target. A short, pudgy, middle-aged guy, in a white shirt and suit pants, next to a similarly dressed taller guy. They both looked out of place in the club, most likely out-of-towners on a business trip, looking to let loose after a day of meetings. Taking a deep breath to compose herself, Lynn walked up to the short guy and started gyrating her hips in front of him. He was surprised, and with a delighted grin, he joined in. Lynn put her palms on his shoulder, straddled his fat thigh and began to grind her crotch on it, her short skirt riding up exposing her cream panties. The arousal was immediate. It felt shameful, yet liberating and powerful to be doing something this dirty in public, and not caring about it. Her right hand left the man's shoulder and cupped his crotch. "Fuck," she heard him exclaim breathlessly. Immediately dismounting him, she turned to his companion.

The taller guy was very happy to oblige. She saw the short guy watching with disappointment and bewilderment as she started humping his colleague's thigh, just like she had done with his. When she touched this man's crotch, she could feel that he was already hard. Her task done, she immediately spun around and walked away from them, hearing the shorter guy stammer out behind her, "w-wanna grab a drink?"

Lynn felt like a femme fatale from a movie. It felt powerful to arouse a man, but leave him hanging and hungry. Men could probably never do that to a woman, because when a man was aroused, he is committed. When a man is aroused, he loses his power. It's the same for a woman, but a woman could hide her arousal and women were trained from childhood to control their desires. That arousal was making the crotch of the panties uncomfortably wet, though. Actually, Lynn couldn't wait to get rid of the panties and get rid of that iky, sticky wetness. That thought ought to have shocked her, but she was beyond caring as to what her old self's conservative values dictated. This new found freedom was exhilarating.

"Woo... Someone's in a wild mood tonight," Jasmine's voice intruded. Lynn swirled around to see Jasmine on the dance floor with Ron. Had she seen everything? It seemed like she had. Hopefully she wouldn't talk about this all over the hospital. Wait, who was she kidding? This is Jasmine. Of course she would tell everyone.

"You certainly raised the bar, white girl! Now I really have to work to keep up my LBFM reputation," laughed Jasmine, grinding against Ron's thigh as Lynn had done with the men. Ron bent and whispered something to her ear and they both laughed. "Hey, wanna give a rub on Ron's other leg?" yelled Jasmine above the music. "That side is still free and I am not the jealous kinda girl." Ron was grinning from ear to ear.

Lynn shrugged, mouthed a no, and turned around, looking for another victim. That's when a horrible thought barreled in to her brain like an out of control freight train. What if the stalker/blackmailer was Ron?