Rosie sat and watched the crowd, idly stirring another Screaming Orgasm. The theme was ‘Forest Fantasy’, and most of the members hadn’t really been trying, in her opinion. Chasing around the dance floor were at least 10 nymphs, and about the same number of satyrs. The nymphs were mostly just naked women with leaf crowns or leis. The satyrs – waxed chests, unwaxed legs, and erections. Rosie snorted.

“Kahlua and milk, thanks, Tony,” a breathy voice said behind her.

She swivelled – it was a nymph, but this one was painted all over with a leaf pattern and her hair in dozens of braids, flowers twined here and there.

“Nice costume!” she said to the woman, “but aren’t you worried about it getting smudged?”

The woman turned, took her in, and smiled slowly.

“Dye job – it’ll take a lot more punishment than it looks like it can… like me,” she said, and reached out for Rosie’s hand, guiding it onto her thigh and up over her hip to her waist, “See? no smudges!”

She smiled again at Rosie, took her drink, and moved back across the dance floor. The man she was aiming for was dressed as a satyr – but again, a little more effort had gone into his costume than most. He wore a pair of furry white tights, cut out around the groin to show off an erection that must, surely, be fake. Not that it wasn’t intriguing anyway, she thought, wondering if perhaps she shouldn’t have given in to her temptation to get blind drunk as fast as possible.

“Hey, little lady!” Roger whispered in her ear.

“Huh? Oh – hi. Wolf?”

“Yup – fully licensed to -” he wolf-whistled, “- at any sexy lady I see. And you -” looking her up and down, “are one incredibly sexy woman! Who are you sposed to be, Little Red Riding Hood all growed up?”

“Sort of,” she said and sighed. This guy was going to be a Clinger, she could see it now.

“Well… she met a wolf in the woods one day…”

Stuff it. If he was going to cling anyway, she might as well try to shut him up. She crossed her legs, letting the cloak fall away from her hip, and smiled widely at him.

“So she did,” she purred, “And he ate her all up! What’s your appetite like, wolfy-boy? Or do you just like a little doggy-style?”

He opened his mouth to reply, but no sound came out. Ha, she thought, cocky newbie’s lost his stuffing.

“Tone! ‘Nother drink, darl?”

“Another Screaming Orgasm, ma’am?”

“Why not? After all…” she looked sideways at the wolf, who’d gotten over the initial dumbstruck phase and was trying to regain his cool by sipping at his drink, “a girl can never have too many orgasms, I say.”

She snickered internally as the wolf choked.


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