NYC Nightlife Ch. 01

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Sex and more at a Goth club.
2.6k words
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I was at No Exit--this Goth club down in the Meatpacking District-- trying to blend in, as usual, but standing out like the dork I was. The place was dark, the walls painted a flat black, and the only light came from a couple of strobes that reflected off the metal cages. Half of the people there were trying to look like vampires, with dead white skin, and the other half was trying to look poetically suicidal. The DJ was playing London After Midnight at a decibel level too high to calibrate, and the wall at the back was covered with people either chained to the wall or getting off against it.

Ideally, the Goth look is thin bordering on anorexic, which I never seemed to manage with my binges of Big Macs and Cheese Doodles. I wouldn't exactly say I was fat, but my mom called me sturdy, and that's when she was trying to make me feel good. Hey, at least I never cut my arms. Okay, once--but that was an accident.

I was moving through the crowd, trying to look like I had a destination in mind and not so much like I was alone. I had found a tattered black top at a shop on St. Mark's that I thought looked hot if you didn't see the rest of my body, which you really couldn't get a good look at with people jammed in the way they were. The top had rips in it and an uneven hem, and there was one strategic hole that I had enlarged with a scissors, cutting away enough of the gauzy black fabric to reveal my right nipple and that brown area surrounding it. I had gotten my nipple pierced a few weeks before and now, with the silver ring through it, I thought maybe I'd finally attract some guy. The thing was, half the chicks in the place had their tits uncovered, with an "Oh, look--I forgot my clothes" attitude, so it wasn't like I was a novelty. Still, you go with what you've got.

Damn, I wanted to get laid. Some girls had to be gorked on X to do it, and here I was, up for it, and no one even seemed to give a shit. I was so fuckin' sick of being a virgin I could scream. Okay, so technically I wasn't a virgin, but the one time I did it I was blitzed and couldn't remember it afterwards. That shouldn't count; you should at least be able to remember it.

Then I saw him.

Omigod, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. He was like the most beautiful man I'd ever seen; not even Gerard Way came close. There was a bunch of kids surrounding him, but he stood a head taller than the rest of them and so I could clearly see his face. His skin was rice paper white, of course, and his eyes were totally black and surrounded by thick eyeliner. There wasn't even a pinpoint of light reflected in them. His black hair flowed over his shoulders and halfway down his back. His nose cut his face like a blade and his black mouth looked both cruel and sensuous. I wanted to write very corny song lyrics about him and scrawl his name all over my notebook. I was besotted at first sight.

I just stood there, my finger flicking the ring on my nipple back and forth, my eyes glued to his eyes, willing him to look at me. Some guy—at least I figured it was a guy--moved in behind me and put his hand up my short skirt and began to finger my private bits. Yeah, I was commando; I came prepared that night. The finger-fucking felt good, really good, but all it did was make me concentrate even harder on the guy ahead of me.

"Look at me, look at me, look at me," I whispered, barely moving my lips, any sound drowned out by the sudden onslaught of Christian Death. It felt like three fingers were inside me now, plus something was being batted against my ass, something that felt very much like a rubbery hotdog. It felt nice, so I decided I didn't want to know what it was. I was getting really wet but I was sure it was more from staring at that wickedly-delicious face than it was from the loser who was feeling me up. Anyway, I didn't want some guy's fingers in me; I wanted the god's mighty cock filling up my cunt. I vowed that if I could have him just once I'd give up Cheese Doodles forever. Like New Years' resolutions and Lenten vows, though, I knew I'd never keep that promise.

And then it happened. He turned his head slightly and saw me staring at him and his eyes seemed to lock onto mine. And as the stare lengthened, I could feel the guy behind me let loose with his gunk all over my ass, immediately followed by wet stuff sliding down my thighs. I ignored it. With just the slightest motion of my dark hero's body, a path opened up between him and me and within seconds he was standing in front of me and I had my head tilted back to look up at him. People moved away from us, giving us space. I swear to god it felt like I was dreaming.

His eyes moved over me slowly, as though memorizing my dimensions. I tried to stand up taller and hold my stomach in, but there was too much to hold in. At least I knew black made me look thinner, but my chubby legs could be seen clearly now beneath my short skirt. I was sure he could see the look of adoration in my eyes.

His eyes met mine again and the corners of his mouth turned up. "You're a juicy little one, aren't you?" he asked.

Omigod, no one had ever called me juicy.

He reached out and moved my hand off my breast and pulled a little at my nipple ring. I thought I would die from the pleasure. That piercing suddenly became the best investment I'd ever made. He pushed back the hair that was falling over my left eye, the result of a disastrous haircut that looked Emo-ish to me and for which I'd cursed out the guy at Cheap Cuts, right after bursting into tears.

"Come along, Little One, and let's play," he said to me in a low, seductive voice.

He took me by the hand and led me to an empty space against the wall between two subs who were chained to it. Oh, shit, I was thinking, it's not going to work. I'm too fuckin' short.

He placed me in front of him, slid a little down the wall so that his knees were bent, and then lifted me so that I was balancing at the top of his thighs--his very strong, very muscular thighs that I glimpsed through his fishnets. His lips were at the top of my head, kissing my hair, as his hand expertly lifted his tunic, revealing his crotchless tights as well as the fact that he was also commando, in addition to being fully erect. He placed his cock at the entrance to my cunt and then pulled my ass so hard against him that it entered me in one smooth swoop, reaching all the way to the end of my insides and hitting up against something that seemed to ignite at his touch. I found I had been holding my breath and let it out with a huge sigh that made him chuckle.

I couldn't stop staring at him. He was every bit as perfect up close. I watched his eyes and they never left me, never glanced around the club, never looked to see if anyone was watching us. I couldn't see any pupils; the entire eye was black, and yet they seemed to have depth. I felt like I was hallucinating, that this perfect man couldn't possibly have chosen me to fuck, not in a club that had of so many better-looking girls, thinner girls, girls with bigger tits. This kind of thing didn't happen in real life. Not to me, anyway.

He began to fuck me, slow, steady strokes that made me gasp with each one. From his expression, he seemed to be enjoying seeing my reaction. I had assumed it would be a fast fuck and then he would be out of there, but he appeared to be in no hurry, content to make me happy.

He smiled again, a sexy, close-mouthed smile. "Do you think you'll be able to come?" he asked me, just casual-like, not putting any pressure on me.

"I have no idea," I admitted, never having come except when I played with myself, and those never seemed like the kind of orgasms I'd read about in romance novels.

"Have you ever come?"

I shook my head, avoiding his eyes for the first time.

"You didn't feel like a virgin," he said.

"I'm not really," I admitted. "But I was very drunk and don't remember it."

"I'll make sure you remember it this time," he said, and began to move faster, plunging his cock into me, harder with each thrust, to the frenzied rhythm of Rammstein that was pounding out of the speakers.

And then I felt it: something starting to build up inside of me, something kind of scary, but also exciting. I could feel my mouth fall open and my eyes widen and I saw his smile once again.

"Oh, my," I said, not quite believing what was happening to me. It was slow, but it just kept building, growing stronger and stronger while I kept expecting something to happen, and then wishing it would happen quickly because I didn't think I could stand the suspense for much longer. And then it happened, the most incredible feeling in the world, like something larger than myself had invaded my body and taken over and was trying to shake it to its very core. I threw back my head and screamed, and as I saw the look of satisfaction cross his face, I cried out--and I couldn't stop myself, I really couldn't--"I love you, I love you, I love you."

A strange expression crossed his face, one almost of anger, and then he bent his mouth to my neck and began to kiss me, and then suck on my skin, and then I felt a sharp sting, but it was nothing compared to what my body was still feeling as the waves of ecstasy kept rolling through me. And in the middle of my waves, like a shark diving through them, I felt his own shudder, his own spasms, and then his hot jism pouring out and filling me up and becoming part of me.

When my tremors finally died down, leaving me feeling drained and weak, I collapsed against his chest, my head tucked under his chin. I wanted to stay there forever but knew it wasn't possible. I wanted to be his conjoined twin so that nothing could ever separate us.

His lips were moving across the top of my head again and I could feel his hot breath on my hair. I wanted to kiss him but I was afraid that would be asking for too much. He might think a kiss was too intimate. I would have thought so myself, but not with him.

He finally lifted me around the waist and set me on my feet in front of him. My legs felt wobbly and my head was still spinning a little. I also felt gloriously alive.

He looked down at me and his face was suddenly serious. "I want you to do something for me," he said.

I nodded. I would have done anything for him.

He reached into the top of one of his boots and brought out a twenty, which he put in my hand, closing my fingers around it. "I want you to get a taxi outside and take it home. And then I want you to get a good night's sleep."

I nodded again. I didn't want to be there any longer anyway, not if I couldn't be with him. And I was sure it wouldn't be with him.

He led me outside and flagged down a Yellow Cab, opening the door and waiting until I was seated. "Take care of yourself," he said, and started to shut the door.

"What's your name?" I asked.

"Blackbird," he said, closing the door.

"Where to, girlie?" asked the taxi driver, who was staring at my nipple in his rear view mirror.

"Seventh," I said, "between B and C," and he maneuvered a dangerous U-turn, the tires screeching. I glanced at the driver's ID picture—a scraggly beard, a mustache and an unpronounceable name.

I was feeling very keyed up, like I was on meth. Maybe it was due to the sex. Maybe it was love. It was Blackbird's doing, though, of that I had no doubt. Every other time I'd left a club I'd been depressed, but this time I felt alive. I felt like I was soaring. I wished I could have stayed and fucked him until the sun came up.

The driver's face was leering at me in the rear view mirror, and when he saw me looking, he stuck out his tongue and made it flap up and down really fast. Really gross. He looked very old and had an ugly, beaten-up face, his open mouth showing blackened teeth. Fuck, I wanted him.

"Show me your titties," he said, and I pulled up my top to give him a good look. I could feel myself start to cream as feelings of lust consumed me.

He turned a little in his seat and reached back his right arm, his fingers wiggling. I leaned forward so that he could play with my tits. It was okay for a minute, but then I wanted more and climbed over the back of the passenger seat, landing with a thud on a stack of newspapers.

He pulled into the nearest empty curb we came to and parked. Then he was all over me, his mouth biting my tits, his short, fat cock shoving inside of my wet cunt, the stench of sweat and alcohol and garlic oozing from his pores. He smelled good enough to eat.

He hadn't pumped me more than a couple of minutes before he shot his wad, grunting as he did so, sweat pouring off his face onto mine. I couldn't stop myself, it was an irresistible impulse that I wasn't able to control. My mouth found his neck and I sank in my teeth and was soon gulping down his exquisitely-savory blood that tasted better to me than a double-chocolate milkshake.

When I had taken my fill and my veins were humming, I saw by his ashen complexion that he was near death, if not already there. I put my thumb to his neck but couldn't feel a pulse.

I pushed him off me and got out of the cab. The night air was still and humid and I could smell the garbage cans lining the street. A cat came winding its way around one of the trash cans, took one look at me and put its back up and hissed. I hissed back and it fled.

Okay, I'd read Rice and Meyer. I'd seen Lost Boys more than once. That didn't mean I believed in vampires. I didn't even believe in god, let alone vampires and werewolves and Santa Claus and the rest. Which made me what exactly, a homicidal maniac in addition to being a sudden sex maniac?

My stomach clenched up and then I started to heave. I leaned over the curb and threw up into the gutter what seemed to be buckets of blood. When no more would come up, I turned and began the long walk home to the East Village.

Fuckin' perfect! I was a vampire who was allergic to blood.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 15 years ago
Damn, that was hot!

You must write more about this bitch!

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