A Tale of Two Parties

"Your friend," she said with a soft shrug, "been trying to impress me all night."

Laurel nudged a few bodies aside from the large scrum along the thirty foot long bar, made a space near the corner with its heater giving that area its own throb. She pushed a cowboy suited drinker who reacted poorly.

"Fuckin' A," he said as her turned to face whoever had pushed him, "you—-"

His voice trailed off as he stared at Laurel's pale skin and black eyeglasses, her jaw set like stone. Anna stepped from behind her and the cowboy's eyes went wide.

"Excuse ush, shir," Anna said, "my friend is clumsy. Wae are sorray."

The bartenders were neutrals, pros, hired in for the night, Peter saw, but a Mongrel behind the bar had caught sight of the encounter. The cowboy seemed to sense it, smiled grimly.

"No biggie," he said, turned and pushed his way clear and disappeared into the crowd.

Anna pushed to the bar and Laurel and Hardy set up a screen with Dave, Peter and Cat around her.

"Wayde outside said if I show you mae titsh," Anna said to the male bartender, like the others, male and female, he wore a short sleeved white shirt with a black vest over it, his brown hair was cut short and his dark eyes wide as he looked her up and down, the Mongrel behind the bar stepped closer, "we can get free drinks."

The Mongrel spoke first.

"Wade said that? What about your girlfriend's tits? Hers look pretty nice..."

Cat stiffened, Peter heard a deep hum in her throat.

"Mine are nicer," Anna said simply but clearly.

Cat jerked, bumped Peter, the sound changed from a hum to a deeper growl.

"Say, wha...," she managed, locked her jaw. Anna seemed to not hear her.

"Wae have a deal?" Anna said to the Mongrel. He smiled. The conversation had attracted two more bartenders and another Mongrel and a handful of people in front of the bar that were close enough to hear over the band's warmup.

"Let's see 'em. If these folks think they're good enough, all your friends can drink."

Anna grabbed the top of the deep violet cloth that stretched across her breasts and pulled it over and down, held it across her abdomen. She shifted to the side a bit and Peter exhaled as he looked. He heard a soft 'bitch' from Cat.

"Sheeiit," said the first Mongrel, the first bartender nodded, "those are... magnificent."

The two bartenders that had joined behind the bar, one a slender woman, let out their own 'wows.'

Peter sidled slightly, nudged Cat as she moved. He whispered in her ear.

"Sure you want this fight?"

Cat stopped, snorted, backed up slightly.

Anna pulled the cloth up and rearranged it across her perfectly round breasts, pulled it taut to ensure the shapes of her large, red nipples were still highlighted.

"Three shcotches," Anna said clearly to the bartender, "good shtuff, shingle malt. Not crap. Drop of shpring water. And a coke for our draiver."

He glanced, the Mongrel smiled, nodded to him.

"Hey," Cat said, "I can have one!"

"Jusht one," Anna said, "four."

Flanked by Laurel and Hardy the quartet stood with their drinks in a tight knot and looked over the roiling crowd. The band had found something resembling a groove and they watched as a female singer in high, white boots, a micro-minidress and an obvious blonde wig with long braids stepped up to the mic.

"Good voice, " said Dave as her voice was a more than fair match to Janis Joplin's. A pack of expertly costumed werewolves added howls and bumped against vampires that ranged from simply masked to clones of the still absent DJ. There were enough cowboys in the crowd they had no idea where their cowboy had gone. An intricate combination of steel and great hewn beam rafters kept the floor free of columns and the crowd took advantage not so much by dancing as heaving against each other in a rhythm not too far off of the music. White and orange lights strung along the rafters gave the place an ethereal glow.

"Dave told me you were disappointed in the lack of sexy nurses," Cat said to Peter as the band paused between songs and the crowd swirled and different groups appeared and faded from clear sight, "plenty out there. But, hey, since you know something about these gangbangers..."

"Um," was all he replied.

"Why do the cops just let this go? Every shitheel in town seems to be here..."

"What would they do? Everyone knows this building's going down, until then having the Mongrels here keeps 'em contained where they can be watched. Tonight, well, what's out there? Few underage drinkers, some coke, pot, sure. And cops are around, I've made a couple, likely here so they'll be recognized so dealing stays subtle, they've probably got some out of towners they're hoping won't be id'd. But it would just cause a horrid ruckus and wouldn't accomplish much. If things get rapey or fists get thrown, the Mongrels will offer swifter justice. Whoever throws the first punch, the bikers always throw the last one."

His mordant laugh was met with tight smiles but then he stiffened and the trio looked at him.

"No... fucking... way...," he said, "is that... shit... that's her!"

"Her? Her who." Dave said, "out where, Peter?"

"To the left, curly blonde hair pulled back with a band, black heels and stockings, sky blue dress, good body," Peter said, pointed to a woman exposed by the swarm's movement.

"Fifties housewife getup," Cat said, "pretty girl. Bit older, thirty, thirty-five."

Peter wasn't sure how to take her tone, especially given her apparent boss who stood on the other side of him and had been unusually silent.

"You know her?" Dave's question.

"One of my high school teachers," Peter said, "tried to teach me poetry. Always wanted to fuck her, always thought it might've been mutual."

Dave and Cat both exhaled sharply at that. Anna laughed to finally break her silence.

"Go for it, Paetor, always take your chance," she said with what he took was an almost wistful tone. He noticed wide mouthed stares from Cat and Dave. As ever, Laurel and Hardy only had eyes for everyone but them.

Peter swigged the last of his scotch then handed his glass to Dave.

"That's good stuff. Been shot down once tonight, no reason to break the pattern now."

He nodded to them and stepped forward as he tried to anticipate where the swirling crowd would take her as the band kicked back into high gear with a driving bass line.

"This is nuts," Cat said as she grabbed Dave's arm, "c'mon, let's get close up with this."

She led them into the swirling mass to Anna's clear laughter.

You Put What Where

"Oh, hey, shit," Jake sputtered and his head popped up from the mattress, "what the hell!"

Bonnie laughed and wrapped her left hand tightly around his erect cock, white powder on a couple of fingertips of her right hand.

"I've heard boys can shove it up their dicks," her voice shakily manic, "never had enough to try it though!"

She pressed a coated fingertip against the head of his prick and pushed what she could into the hole.

"Oh, wow, it, tingles," he said as she squeezed and pumped him, "oh, yeah. Hey, give it a suck. Get some for yourself!"

"Put this thing in my mouth? After where it's been?"

"Yeah, it's been up your twat. Let me shove it up your ass, then you'll really have reason to not suck it..."

"Dream on, wolfman," she laughed and squeezed his cock hard and he arched his shoulders off the mattress, his thin frame taut and wiry. He twisted and grabbed her shoulders and lifted and twisted pushed her onto her back onto the mattress.

Loud, staccato laughter and running footsteps didn't quite make it to the doorway, a thin piece of hanging fabric pretending to be a door their only separation from the hall. Their room was little more than a closet with a mattress of uncertain lineage on the floor, a tiny, twenty watt bulb was suspended in the center of the room along a loosely strung electrical wire to give the room a dim, yellow-white glow. It was at the far end and the last of many similar cubicles away from the stairway that had led them up.

"Let's see what you think," he held her down with one hand as she laughed and fake kicked at him, his other hand reached over and poked into the remnants of powder still in the bag with two fingers. He reached down and pushed those fingers into Bonnie's wet pussy and her mouth went wide and she lifted her body into a vee shape. Like Jake she was thin but wiry and strong, her breasts nicely formed but little more than A cups, her nipples round and pink, even fully erect still quite small.

"Asshole," but she laughed and wrapped her arms around him and pulled him on top of her as her torso dropped back to the mattress. She rubbed the last of the powder on her fingers onto the head of his shaft and splayed her legs out, each covered from mid-thigh to her brown boots with the remnants of her red tights, the crotch torn away in their earlier frenzy. He pulled his stiff prick through a thatch of light brown pubic hair then rubbed it against her wet slit until the head found her opening, she nudged forward as he pushed his full length rapidly in, a mixture of his earlier ejaculate and her juices pushed out.

"It tingles, ohhh," she said, he slammed into her, "oof!"

Bonnie's eyes had bulged when Jake's contact had handed across a bag of white powder bigger than she'd thought could exist, she and Jake had pooled their gains from the evening and it had paid off. She'd always known when she or a girlfriend had scored a handful of lines that it had to exist in larger amounts but they'd never seen it.

After that he'd led her along the left side of the stage which led into the back third of the building. In its original incarnation it had been offices for the bishop and the church administration on the first floor and two floors above that made up a living space for him and his family. The Mongrels had radically reshaped the layout but kept the original purpose. They'd split rooms with cheap plywood partitions and tossed mattresses down. Jake had told her on many nights it was used as a pop-up whorehouse, other times as crashpads for Mongrels or guests visiting from chapters in other states.

Tonight, for a separate five buck a head cover charge it was a free-fucking zone.

They'd checked out the contents of the bag in a large, gaudy room filled with heavy antique wooden furniture, like the pews heavily carved by Mongrels unknown.

"Holy fucking shit," Bonnie had screamed on her first line, "this is so much better than that crap I had earlier! I am going to kick the girl's ass who sold it to me."

Jake had laughed loudly, they'd attracted a couple of zombies who'd shuffled over, a boy and girl who couldn't have been much out of high school. They'd shared a couple of lines and the zombies shuffled rapidly off moaning 'brains, brains' with wide-eyed stares.

Jake grabbed Bonnie and kissed her hard. She kissed back.

Another round of lines and she was buzzed beyond anything she'd ever felt. Jake had taken her by the hand, she'd remembered stairs, naked men and women running through the halls, couples and even trios fucking in rooms. On the top floor they'd found an empty cubicle and she'd screamed with laughter when Jake grabbed her and squeezed her ass when he kissed her. She threw him down on the floor and wanted nothing more than to be naked, her body was burning.

She had just enough control to get the red, real vintage dress off with care. Other than her basic and boring work pants and shirts she didn't have much that was actually nice beyond these boots and the dress and she wanted to keep them in good shape. She got the slip off too but that was it. They'd gotten partially naked and ran a couple of lines each off of the windowsill and the rush had meant Jake had torn the crotch out of her red tights. She hadn't cared.

It had been a long time and Jake was one of the first guys who'd just treated her like an equal, not as a stupid slut who'd be easy because she'd barely made it through high school or like she was dumb as a stump because she worked in a shop and had to kiss the asses of snooty rich bitches all day. It might turn to shit in the morning but that was the morning. They heard other couples doing much as they were, their curtain had even been pulled open a few times that they'd noticed but everyone had simply moved on finding the room was occupied. A couple of Mongrels wandering the halls had been as unobtrusive as large, belligerent men in black leather could be, their presence enough to prevent turf wars.

This time the initial tingling in her cunt when he'd entered her had turned into an odd feeling. The pressure of his cock was great but it wasn't as intense as it had started out. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly and pulled him to a stop.

"You kinda numb?"

"Yeah... weird...," he said.

"Kiss me then," she told him, "go slow."

He did as they kissed softly and slowly. What had earlier been mashing of lips and aggressive tongue jabs had turned almost tentative. Bonnie rubbed her tongue on Jake's lips as he touched the tip of his tongue to the underside, then the top of hers. He used his hips to slowly press into and pull out of her body.

They lost track of time until rhythmic footsteps and a monotonic chanting penetrated their entangled attentions. Jake broke the kiss and leaned his head up, Bonnie blinked and shook her head before she twisted her head, they both looked at the curtain that separated them from the hall as the footsteps approached them.

Jake lifted himself slightly and Bonnie used her elbows and feet to slide until their heads were next to the curtain. Jake reached to move the curtain's edge just enough to allow them to see a set of heavy boots with a black, wrap-around robe that reached to the wearer's ankles. Multiple sets of feet passed by in a staggered formation, after a half dozen they saw a man's and a woman's bare legs in black combat boots. Their chanting continued but neither could understand the words.

"Adam," Bonnie whispered, her upward view better, "and Eve! From before!"

Another half dozen black-robed individuals followed the near-naked couple. Jake pushed himself fully into Bonnie and put just his eye around the door. In the dim light of the hallway he saw the lead robe approach the Mongrel at the end of the hall. The biker reached and pulled a door open. He saw the leader turn left and step up through the doorway, as if the passage led to a staircase. Once Eve had turned he pulled his head back in.

"They're going up stairs," he whispered, afraid to speak louder, "I didn't even know there was another level!"

In a few moments they heard the step of heavy boots right above them.

"What's up there?" Bonnie's question.

"Um, like I said, no fucking idea!"

"Let's go see... Get off me!"

"Huh?"

He looked into her eyes, saw the manic glint in her eyes but she wasn't insensate. But he obeyed, pulled his still stiff prick out with a soft plop and a trail of goo stretched from the head to her pussy lips.

"That Mongrel's still there. I doubt he'll buy our 'sorry, late' excuse!"

"Gotta be a way...," she said as she sat up, "shit, you did a job on my tights!"

"Oh, hey, sorry about that," he said, "an issue?"

"Nah, I'll just steal another pair from work, but they're gonna fall down, gotta take my shoes off. Damn..."

He handed her panties and bra to her then smiled.

"No, you don't."

He grabbed the crotch he'd torn out of the tights and went to the windowsill. There was a nail he used to slice the elastic waistband, then split that into two.

"Stand up, Bonnie," he said, she pulled her panties past her boots and stood as she pulled them into place. He took one leg of the tights and worked on the thigh, pulled it up and gave the top a wrap around one piece of the elastic. He tied it loosely.

"Oh, got it," she said, "get dressed, I'll get these snug but no tourniquets."

"Now I just have to get my jeans on over this," his erect cock swayed, "shit. This..."

"I think that," she tapped the pulsating head, "doesn't like the white stuff like our noses do."

He worked his clothes on with a bit of effort and then his sneakers as she pulled her slip over then worked the buttons and hooks that were the traditional methods her dress closed. He grabbed the plastic bag with its remaining contents, Bonnie smiled that it still had as much as she'd ever had in her hands before.

"Hide this," he handed her the bag, she smiled even more broadly. They pulled on their respective masks and Bonnie finished off with her cloche.

"Ok," he peeked outside quickly, looked right then left, pulled his head back in, "biker's still there, need some sort of diversion..."

Just then a loud 'FUCKER' from down the hallway to the right and then the sound of a body hitting wood with some considerable force. Jake peeked out again, halfway to the far end he saw a naked man charge from a room to collide with another naked man against the far wall. The charged man grabbed the other one and they fell sideways and all but their lower legs disappeared into another room to elicit screams from a man and a woman, apparently the residents of that room.

Jake ducked as the Mongrel from their left charged down the hall blowing a whistle, a similar sound from the opposite direction.

"We're moving Bonnie," Jake grabbed Bonnie's hand and pulled her, she almost tripped on the mattress but stutter stepped and followed. They ran to the far end and Jake grabbed the handle, they looked left. Three Mongrels were busy beating multiple people senseless. The door was unlocked.

"Up we go," they stepped through quickly then stopped and one last look indicated the melee at the opposite end had only grown. Bonnie pulled the door closed.

Jake put his finger to his lips and Bonnie nodded, there was no light in the stairwell but flickering lights from above provided an orange glow. They stepped slowly hoping to avoid noise but the loud chanting from above meant they didn't need to be silent. Jake stretched at the top, looked, saw hanging black curtains, what must be firelight to the left. He led Bonnie up onto the floor of an unpublicised fourth level.

They moved toward a distant flame of some sort, at the edge of the curtains they peeked around. They saw a staggered set of curtains with light beyond, they stepped carefully further into the space and finally squatted behind a black-painted piece of plywood. Either side of that was a slight space then curtains. Just in front of the plywood was a large brazier on a metal frame. Around the room were three more such braziers, all of them with bright, large fires burning fed by an oblate container of what must've been oil.

In the center of the large space Adam and Eve stood back to back, even from the side Jake and Bonnie could see their eyes were closed. Twelve black-robed people stood in a loose circle around the couple and continued to chant. A thirteenth black-robed person lifted the snake over Eve's head and handed it to another. Each of the thirteen's robes had a hood that blocked or obscured the view of any of their faces.

"Women," Bonnie said, "their wrists."

Jake nodded. The chanting seemed to indicate the dozen were about evenly mixed men and women. The attendant removed Eve's top and it followed the snake, she pulled Eve's fig leaf bottom down and the now all-but naked woman stepped out of it.

The black-robed woman sidled to Adam and squatted in front of him and pulled his tight costume down. A massive cock that had been hidden by the large fake fig leaf popped free.

"Shit," Jake said almost reflexively, Bonnie clapped her hand to her mouth.

"I thought they were pigs," she leaned into Jake's ear, "wrong. He's a horse!"

The robed woman stood and stepped backwards and the chanters rearranged the circle to allow her in. Adam and Eve turned to face each other and they moved forward, Eve's hands went to Adam's cock as his went to her large, round breasts and they kissed. The chanting gained speed and volume as the couple's foreplay sped up as well.