The Prayer
folder
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,071
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Erotica › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
6,071
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Club
*smiles* All characters as always, copyrighted to me.
Enjoy!
_________________________________________
She loved this club. The high arching ceilings and dark secluded corners. The music an irreverent mix of throbbing techno, deep brooding metal, and hard guitar riffs all overlaid by a smokescreen of sharp tobacco and sweet clove cigarettes. There were all kinds here. Ravers who moved sinuously to the beat, looking like trees swaying in the wind. Rockers with piercings and slick black vinyl. Tourists, their eyes wide and staring, the occasional whisper and point with a giggle at some freak or another.
Then there were the regulars, like her, a small but definitive club that rarely changed. They wore what they would, the flavor changed with greater regularity than the membership, but never with a sense of conformity. Instead it was that quick kiss hello and a “where did you get that, it’s bleeding lovely!” shouted over the thumping bass of Korn’s latest bullshit release. She came, like the rest of the regulars, to dance. Occasionally to socialize, sometimes to fuck, but mostly it was for the dance, her one chance at redemption as she prayed to ancient gods on the dance floor with silent words.
Tonight she wore black leather. The pants tight and cut low in front and back, showing off her abs and the Nataraja tattooed lovingly on the small of her back. Her tank top was red and stretched across C-cup breasts, molded over her shoulders and across her ribcage. Her hair was jet black this week, an emergency dye job to cover the mistake that an attempt at blue had been and it currently flowed over her shoulders and down her back, though by the end of the night – and truthfully in probably less than an hour – it would be twisted up off her neck and soaked with sweat from her dancing. She checked her long leather coat with the girl at the front and wiggled her fingers to Timothy at the front bar as she wound her way through the crowd.
“What’s the mood, Sugar?” Timothy was tall and had skin so dark it was like staring into a scrying mirror, his teeth flashed white in the dim light of the club as he leaned on the bar and grinned at her. Unlike most of the regulars, she never had developed a passion for a “usual” drink that the bartenders could simply place in her hand without question. Her drinking habits, like her dress, were varied and tended to revolve around her moods. Sweet for social, hard shots if the mood was nasty, water if she was only in the mood to seriously dance.
She pondered and then grinned at him, the dimple in her right cheek peeking through and her dark red lips curving upward. “Why don’t you surprise me tonight?”
“Ah, adventurous.” He grinned again and turned away. “We’ve missed you. Luc was about to call the cops to make sure you were okay.” He called out over his shoulder and she laughed.
“Family in town. Thankfully they left this morning. Thank you, love.” She took the drink and blew him a kiss. Timothy laughed and moved off to make a note on her tab. The regulars all had standing tabs, and paid them off without fail on the first Friday of every month. She moved off into one of the darker back rooms, and exchanged greetings with several of the other regulars as she moved toward her customary spot near the stage.
She spotted him just a split second before Luc accosted her. Someone was stretched out at the table she normally occupied. He wasn’t a tourist, not with that bored look and the smoldering clove cigarette hanging from one strong hand. But the staid jeans and black t-shirt also gave away the fact that he would not fit into any of the other groups that were scattered about the club. His eyes were dark, as were the curls on his head and she locked eyes with him for a moment before Luc wrapped her into a hug.
“Darling! We’ve missed you!” The bartender’s enthusiastic greeting pulled her attention from the man lounging in her spot and she pressed her cheek to his. Luc was tall and slender, with white blonde hair and eyebrows, and tonight he was dressed in a shimmering white top with blue vinyl pants and large white boots that looked like they were used in the moon landing. She loved Luc and therefore tolerated the interruption.
“Who is that man in my seat?” She inquired in a low voice and Luc turned to look for a moment.
“Dunno. He’s been here a few nights now. Showed up the first night you were gone I think.” He shrugged. “Want me to run him off?” The idea was a bit laughable, though she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from hurting Luc’s feelings. It would be like sending the pre-fall Lucifer to deal with Gabriel.
“No, love. I came to dance. He’s welcome to it.” She patted his cheek and finished off her drink before handing him the empty glass. She waved goodbye and headed for the dance floor, aware of the liquid pull between her legs that signified her body may actually have more on the docket than dancing tonight.
©kbwagers2003
Enjoy!
_________________________________________
She loved this club. The high arching ceilings and dark secluded corners. The music an irreverent mix of throbbing techno, deep brooding metal, and hard guitar riffs all overlaid by a smokescreen of sharp tobacco and sweet clove cigarettes. There were all kinds here. Ravers who moved sinuously to the beat, looking like trees swaying in the wind. Rockers with piercings and slick black vinyl. Tourists, their eyes wide and staring, the occasional whisper and point with a giggle at some freak or another.
Then there were the regulars, like her, a small but definitive club that rarely changed. They wore what they would, the flavor changed with greater regularity than the membership, but never with a sense of conformity. Instead it was that quick kiss hello and a “where did you get that, it’s bleeding lovely!” shouted over the thumping bass of Korn’s latest bullshit release. She came, like the rest of the regulars, to dance. Occasionally to socialize, sometimes to fuck, but mostly it was for the dance, her one chance at redemption as she prayed to ancient gods on the dance floor with silent words.
Tonight she wore black leather. The pants tight and cut low in front and back, showing off her abs and the Nataraja tattooed lovingly on the small of her back. Her tank top was red and stretched across C-cup breasts, molded over her shoulders and across her ribcage. Her hair was jet black this week, an emergency dye job to cover the mistake that an attempt at blue had been and it currently flowed over her shoulders and down her back, though by the end of the night – and truthfully in probably less than an hour – it would be twisted up off her neck and soaked with sweat from her dancing. She checked her long leather coat with the girl at the front and wiggled her fingers to Timothy at the front bar as she wound her way through the crowd.
“What’s the mood, Sugar?” Timothy was tall and had skin so dark it was like staring into a scrying mirror, his teeth flashed white in the dim light of the club as he leaned on the bar and grinned at her. Unlike most of the regulars, she never had developed a passion for a “usual” drink that the bartenders could simply place in her hand without question. Her drinking habits, like her dress, were varied and tended to revolve around her moods. Sweet for social, hard shots if the mood was nasty, water if she was only in the mood to seriously dance.
She pondered and then grinned at him, the dimple in her right cheek peeking through and her dark red lips curving upward. “Why don’t you surprise me tonight?”
“Ah, adventurous.” He grinned again and turned away. “We’ve missed you. Luc was about to call the cops to make sure you were okay.” He called out over his shoulder and she laughed.
“Family in town. Thankfully they left this morning. Thank you, love.” She took the drink and blew him a kiss. Timothy laughed and moved off to make a note on her tab. The regulars all had standing tabs, and paid them off without fail on the first Friday of every month. She moved off into one of the darker back rooms, and exchanged greetings with several of the other regulars as she moved toward her customary spot near the stage.
She spotted him just a split second before Luc accosted her. Someone was stretched out at the table she normally occupied. He wasn’t a tourist, not with that bored look and the smoldering clove cigarette hanging from one strong hand. But the staid jeans and black t-shirt also gave away the fact that he would not fit into any of the other groups that were scattered about the club. His eyes were dark, as were the curls on his head and she locked eyes with him for a moment before Luc wrapped her into a hug.
“Darling! We’ve missed you!” The bartender’s enthusiastic greeting pulled her attention from the man lounging in her spot and she pressed her cheek to his. Luc was tall and slender, with white blonde hair and eyebrows, and tonight he was dressed in a shimmering white top with blue vinyl pants and large white boots that looked like they were used in the moon landing. She loved Luc and therefore tolerated the interruption.
“Who is that man in my seat?” She inquired in a low voice and Luc turned to look for a moment.
“Dunno. He’s been here a few nights now. Showed up the first night you were gone I think.” He shrugged. “Want me to run him off?” The idea was a bit laughable, though she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from hurting Luc’s feelings. It would be like sending the pre-fall Lucifer to deal with Gabriel.
“No, love. I came to dance. He’s welcome to it.” She patted his cheek and finished off her drink before handing him the empty glass. She waved goodbye and headed for the dance floor, aware of the liquid pull between her legs that signified her body may actually have more on the docket than dancing tonight.
©kbwagers2003