<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #80BFFF"><span style="font-weight: bold"><span style="font-size: 150%; line-height: 116%;">Jerry Dawson</span></span></span><br/><br/><a class="postlink" href="http://i1343.photobucket.com/albums/o793/Galvin_Fugazi/52369226-3528-4ca1-91bb-aab87f83ff6d_zpsf1eea54c.jpg">[ img ]</a></div><br/><br/><div style="text-align: justify;">Jerry stopped his car on the parking belonging to The Nightlife. He was damn nervous, more nervous than a grown-up 25 years old man with some decent sexual experience should be. But entering a nightclub and brothel tugged at his nerves. He took some deep breaths and looked around. The other cars looked as cheap as his, except of a big Hummer on a separate parking. Probably the boss or did they call themselves Pimp? Finally he opened the door and stepped out, locking the door of his car carefully. He had put on a black jeans and dark-blue t-shirt with Budweiser written on it. He looked decent and in every pub he would catch some looks, but in this place? He wasn't sure at all. Straightening his shoulders he moved his 6'2" frame towards the entrance. One short moment he wanted to run away, but then he called himself a coward and opened the door.<br/><br/>He had no idea how this Ivy looked like, but in his imagination she would be medium size, tattooed, with bleached blond hair and an empty smile on her face. At least the dumb girls falling for the jocks in his class had been of that kind. So more than likely Ivy would fit that image, but maybe she wasn't working today. Jerry stopped behind the door and took a first look around. It wasn't looking like he expected it. Well, what had he actually expected? Girls sitting behind windows like in some dutch town or massage girls on a row like in Thailand? Anyway it looked like a normal club and there was no madam coming to him to introduce him to the girls. He felt lost and misplaced and when he spotted a bar he walked up to it, wondering if they served decent drinks or just champagne. There was a dark haired beauty behind the bar looking at him with a taxing look and Jerry quickly looked down at himself, wondering if he had forgotten to pull his zipper close.<br/><br/><span style="color: #FF8000">"Hi..iii...does a man get something to drink here?"</span> <br/><br/>God, how lame was that? He acted like a teenager on his first night out and not like a grown up man. But at least he could see normal beverages behind the girl on the shelf. He sat down on a bar-stool wondering what would come next.</div>