# Draft

Author: Kyra42

The floor was a deep marbled black that shone with a metallic glint under the soft blue lights that danced across the bodies of furs from all ages, species, and backgrounds,&nbsp;mostly in groups of twos or threes.&nbsp;On the left side was a bar table lined with drinks, most of them alcoholic and&nbsp;each with their&nbsp;own colorful label,&nbsp;and the odd assorted nut dish. In the far back were&nbsp;the restrooms and four velvet-lined booths&nbsp;that stood back to back, just in case&nbsp;the&nbsp;younger couples got a little too&nbsp;"wild".&nbsp;&nbsp; Right across from the entrance a skinny&nbsp;teenage cheetah&nbsp;sat boredly behind a turn table and&nbsp;a row&nbsp;of synth boards, stereos,&nbsp;and computers. He was most likely bored stiff, poor thing. To wrap it all up a&nbsp;raised platform stood to the left.&nbsp;That, my friend, was the dancefloor, woefully empty-looking as it was only 9:00 PM. Still, the night was young, and it would&nbsp;house many eventful happenings once the hours progressed.

The muscular, formidable-looking&nbsp;Rottweiler in&nbsp;black uniform&nbsp;moved aside with an indifferent grunt. "Enjoy&nbsp;Club Moonshine, lass." &nbsp;A nod, a smile. The door opened, and in stepped her. The 20-year-old feline was dressed in a black minidress that&nbsp;complimented in her conveniently-placed curves. It fell just above her knees and was cut in a low v-shape. At least, interesting enough to catch someone's eye. Her fur was a pure snow-white, complimented by dark black hair that fell in waves around her pointed ears. Her sinuous&nbsp;tail swished in sensual time with her hips as she sauntered forward with nary a care in the world. It was a Saturday night, her boyfriend was away, and in her current&nbsp;sex-starved state she was determined to have fun.

In more ways than one.

"What's your name, darlin'? Can I getcha somethin'?" the bartender drawled in a heavy Texan accent. He was&nbsp;a&nbsp;short, stocky&nbsp;fellow wearing a kindly smile&nbsp;and a casual green polo. He raised an eyebrow, trying not to inhale her provocative scent too much; what was a young&nbsp;girl in heat doing in a club full of&nbsp;horny male&nbsp;furries?

"Evie Jones. And a&nbsp;cold beer would be nice, actually," she replied, flashing a crooked smile.&nbsp;Her eyes were&nbsp;a bright ochre color,&nbsp;lined with long, mascara-laden lashes&nbsp;and darted about the scene before&nbsp;settling on&nbsp;the bull's face. &nbsp;

"Comin' right up." He served the beer with a unique degree of finesse before winking and turning to address the next customer.&nbsp;

Evie&nbsp;clambered on to&nbsp;the stool closest to her and whirled in a circle until she faced the rest of the place. Her tail twitched with excitement as she surveyed the&nbsp;dancefloor with an experienced&nbsp;eye and an almost empty can.&nbsp;Bodies&nbsp;covered in everything from fur to scales to feathers gyrated on each other in time to the pulsating&nbsp;techno beat. Another beer followed, courtesy of the still-grinning&nbsp;bartender, and another and another until she was&nbsp;quite thoroughly... drunk. (A/N: Please excuse the hasty paragraph&nbsp;TT\_TT)&nbsp;&nbsp;&nbsp;

(Will add more tomorrow.)

Source: https://sofurry.com/s/pnGJZxVm