You can't help but be impressed at the Lopunny's skills as you take in the show. You don't bother ordering a drink or a personal dance as you scope out the room. Within minutes of your arrival, you are surprised to see a particularly bold Quilava saunter to your table and sit down. As the anthro woman slides closer, she quietly smiles and greets you.
"Hello miss, having a good time?"
You return her pleasantries with your usual moody silence. You're not here to chat, you're on the lookout for prey.
"..."
"Not much of a talker, hmm? I like that," she says with an aloof sultriness to her voice.
You weren't interested in the plainish looking girl before, but you are intrigued at her total lack of fear. Usually, smaller anthros are more apprehensive in your presence. Your nostrils flare as you huff and look back at her with a cocked eyebrow. Your breasts heave as you turn to face her. She sports a punk styled fiery mo-hawk along with a simple, yet revealing skirt. Her torso is crammed into a small bikini top, which holds tight to her small chest. Her breasts are nothing impressive, but you appreciate their perkiness as they show off her hardened nipples. The tiny nubs poke out of the crimson red fabric like the Rhydon horn you watched dance about beneath your abs months ago.
She's got some style to her, that's for sure, you think as she leans closer.
"You see that slutty bunny on stage?" she says, pointing to her fellow performer. You watch as the Lopunny twirls, letting her pastie-clad breasts flop to and fro for the crowd. She smiles as she throws her head back, letting her flowing brown ears fall around her shoulders.
"Indeed I do," you say as you lick your chops. The Lopunny is becoming a more appealing menu item by the minute thanks to her pole prowess.
"I hate that bitch," hisses the Quilava silently.
You cock your head back at the abrasive comment. "That so?"
"Showed up here a month ago and she's already bumped me out of my Friday night slot..." she says with more and more bitterness in her voice. The Quilava turns to you and places her hand on your thigh, feeling past your cargo pockets to get a grip on your powerful legs. You allow the smaller woman a groping session as she crawls under your outstretched arm and nuzzles closer. She takes a long whiff of your fur, letting her own spiky hair mingle with your grey forest of fuzz.
"Wanna help me get it back?"
You feel her tracing a circle around your belly button, digging a claw through your bulky frame as she admires your abs. She's either enamored with you, or leading you into some convoluted trap. Either way, you're now much more interested in seeing where the night will take you.
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