Emma has always been more than a bit shy. She normally wouldn’t dare enter a place like The Red Rover on her own, but as the first raindrops fall, and still three blocks from her car, Emma ducks inside. The six men turn to catch a glimpse of the striking woman dressed in her impeccable business attire. Rain pelts the windows, but inside it’s cozy and warm. “Looks like it’s really comin’ down out there,” the barista remarks, handing Emma a steaming cup of coffee.

Drink in hand, she decides to explore the café further and wanders into the back room, away from the eyes of the men. The room is all but empty, holding only a single bar stool and an old jukebox, standing silent, a relic of a bygone era, its labels faded, its surfaces coated with dust.

Emma is drawn to the ancient machine. Her fingers trace the buttons. A static shock, and Emma’s hand jerks. At the same instant, a low rumble of thunder echoes through the walls, and the jukebox flickers to life. Lights flash. A rollicking tune begins to play - “Her Strut” by Bob Seger. The rhythmic beat entices Emma to move. Her hips sway in time with the music. Without stopping her dance, she unbuttons her blazer, revealing a sleek silk blouse underneath. She soon finds the blouse and skirt restrictive, and without a second thought removes the garments. Clad only in panties and bra, she dances. She twirls and spins with effortless grace. She struts.

Patrons of The Red Rover, having noticed the music, drift into the back room. Silently they watch Emma.

Just as the intensity of the music and Emma’s dance are about to reach their climax, a crash of thunder plunges the café into darkness. All is silent. The storm has stopped.

Emma stands still for a moment, darkness enveloping her. Then, in the pitch-black, she resumes her dance. In the dark of The Red Rover’s back room, the six men share Emma’s orgasm.