MJ was a good girl. ..Sometimes. She might have been settled with Peter and May but there was a part of her that longed for lights and loud music and tight clothes and dancing anonymously with strangers----setting her drink down, she headed to the pale-haired man who'd been "checking her out." Really? God, she hoped so. She hadn't felt very sexy recently, that was for sure.
Please. No one would know she wasn't a mutant, not with the way she carried herself, not with the way she leaned back against the man in question and dragged him onto the dance floor without a word. Not with the way she let him put his hands on her hips and get----ugh----just a little too close for comfort. MJ would look back on this later and realize it made her uncomfortable but right now? Right now, please, she didn't care----or she thought she didn't, anyway.
It was all well and good until she could feel him grinding up against her in a way that crossed the line, his hand sliding up from her hip to just under her breast----uh uh. No.