Trent was excited if not a bit nervous when I led him into The Meat Market that Friday night. I was horny as hell and anxious for the evening to pick up speed. Wearing a super low cut Wicked Weasel thong under an ultra-short, black mini dress that clung to my slinky form, I snaked through the crowd towing Trent along by his hand as I searched for the right place to be when the right time arrived.   Almost midnight and there was plenty of action where ever you looked. Amid pounding rhythmic danc...