Elysium: The Chair

She leaned forward, her beautiful eyes locked on Freddie, and twisted her shoulders ever so slightly. Her huge breasts wobbled beneath her from just that movement. My mouth fell open watching her tits free themselves of their cups. With a several heavy shakes, the camisole fell from her body to the stage, its straps racing down her arms.

Lilah rose, still twisting her shoulders back and forth.

"Oh my god," I heard myself say.

I had never seen a pair of breasts as large and perfect as the ones that wobbled freely on Lilah's chest. They were not the hardened attempts of plastic surgery, nor sagging natural mounds of flesh. They were the thing of men's dreams.

"...fucking hot," was the only words I made out when Andy spoke.

The pink lights cast an alluring glow on Lilah's exposed flesh, the tops of her round breasts gleaming. They drifted back and forth to the tapping of the drums and the repetitive snap of the bass strings. Her eyes found mine through the neon swirls of fog. My cock swelled. I bit down hard on my tongue.

Those fucking eyes... and that face.... Lilah was gorgeous. Her eyes were those of a doll, so big, round, hypnotic. She was the irresistible merger of girlish innocence and voluptuous elegance.

I noticed her full lips moving. Just to see them parting, pursing, and closing sent my mind spiraling into imagination. I realized she was mouthing the moaning words of the song, while her breasts swung to the beat.

"...I'm on my way down now, I'd like to take you with me...."

Huge frosty eyes gripped me in their gaze. Glossy luscious lips beckoned me. I would have died for just a taste, just a touch, just for her to pull me into the depths of the haunting fog and drown me.

Lilah's hair flipped around and there came a thunderous crash of guitars. The drums disappeared, leaving only the riff of the strings, which now bellowed like a cosmic groaning ghoul. She pawed toward me. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she herself crawled.

I watched her hand slide down across her stomach. Sweat coated my brow. Lilah's fingers crept behind the fabric that cupped her pussy. I lost sight of them. I couldn't breath. Her eyes loomed up before me. The icy wheels of her irises seemed to spin.

Her hand emerged in my peripheral vision. Her red lip fell open. The guitars boomed all around, fanning the flames of the tension I felt. Lilah slid two shiny fingers into her mouth, closed her lips over them, and slid them back slowly.

"Oh...." The word fell away from me unheard, lost in the deafening crunch of the guitars.

Lilah floated closer, her shimmering hair waving beside her face. She leaned toward me with one arm planted beneath her and the other reaching for me. It was the cold hand of a ghost that pulled me in. They were the red lips of the devil that closed on mine. Our eyes were open. She watched me fixedly, basking in the way I went limp beneath her.

Then I felt it. Her lips opened. Her warm tongue gently pushed something tender and round into my mouth. I was stunned. Lilah rolled her tongue, kissing me while prodding the object further inside my mouth. Then our lips closed. She lingered, allowing me to soak in the softness of her kiss.

Then she was drifting back into the thin veil of fog, her eyes still watching me as she stood. The tap and hum returned as the booming guitars ceased. I became aware that my friends were watching me. Feeling my skin grow hot, I plucked the cherry from my lips and set it down next to my drink.

Freddie and Andy exchanged looks of shock. Michael was watching me with wide eyes and raised brows. I licked the roof of my mouth. The taste was still there... her taste. I acted relaxed, but I was having trouble calming myself. I wanted to adjust the bulging erection in my pants, but I feared that if I touched it I would explode. It was hard to believe the effects of that woman's mere kiss.

"I think she likes you, Tate!" Freddie was grinning from ear to ear. He reached over and clapped me on the back.

The four of us watched as Lilah slowly strutted across the stage. Her thumbs were hooked in the G-string, sliding back and forth. My hands started to tingle as I saw the pop and squeeze of her ass cheeks while she walked.

Down she sank, still swinging and twisting to the music. From across the stage, the sight of her squatting above her platform heels was no less enthralling. Lilah would rake her fingers through her hair and twirl her head. She squeezed her bulbous breasts and shook them gently for the patrons in front of her.

"Oh, shit," Freddie said suddenly. "I know what these are for!"

He was right. Lilah was positioned over the corner of the stage across from us. Her fingers landed upon the wagging purple object beneath her. I stopped breathing.

The sound of guitars exploded through the air again as part of the dildo disappeared into Lilah. Strobes flickered against the fog while the spotlights circled randomly. She flipped her hair around quickly and arched her back. I adjusted in my seat, uncomfortable not being able to see her well. I eyed the fake cock that was standing on our corner of the stage, silently praying that she she would use everyone.

I realized that one of the masked women had climbed onto Michael beside me. While she thrust her hips up into his lap, he remained rigid beneath her. Her movements were so erratic and strange. It was a disturbing sight. Her eerie doll face twisted this way and that. Her spine contorted in ways that made her look like an eel. Michael seemed as enthralled as he was repulsed.

Lilah's movements were fluid. She had sank to her knees. Her pale ass clenched and rolled over the stage. The people watched her like zombies, amazed and hypnotized by what they saw. I traced the rolling arch of Lilah's spine to her shoulders.

She was staring at me.

Those big eyes peered across her shoulder while she popped her ass on top of the purple cock. Lilah gave me a subtle and sexy bat of her curled lashed and my breath fell from my quivering lip. I cut my eyes over at Freddie and Andy to see if they noticed, but they were busy enjoying the show.

Within minutes, Lilah had ridden yet another dildo. She was bent before the audience, her ass bouncing high into the air with her thighs spread beneath. Her breasts and her cheek were against the stage. I marvelled at the sloping arch of her back.

Lilah was watching me.

From beneath the veil of her hair, she stared in my direction. Her cool expression was one of sexual serenity. The mounds of her ass rolled up to her back and snapped down, again and again. The way her every slightest move synchronized with the eerie melody was tantalizing.

Watching Lilah was like being trapped in a dream. Time itself seemed to slow and tick to the same tune that moved her. All else became a blur of colors and faces. I was so hard that my dick ached. The masked dancers were making their rounds about the stage. I briefly saw Andy mouthing the tiny tit of the pigtailed blonde in his lap.

I looked up and she was there, standing above me on the stage. Lilah's hips gyrated. Her thighs were slick with sweat. The flesh looked so tempting, so delicious.

While the guitars groaned, the drums hammered like a machine gun. In a flash Lilah was squatting between Freddie and I. The G-string had long been pulled away, revealing her pink furls of flesh. With a twirl of her head she whipped her hair around and ran her tongue up her palm. Her heavy, perfect breasts jiggled while she slid her hand through the crease of her pussy.

The dildo split her lips with ease. With legs spread and heels planted, Lilah reclined on stiff arms. I rubbed my face and blinked hard when I saw her body wind into motion. Lilah's abs and hips rolled like a flag caught in a breeze. I had to reach down and adjust my choking cock in my pants. My face was only feet away from her crotch, where her lips slid and swallowed the purple shaft. I had never seen a woman move so skillfully, so gracefully, especially not one with a dick inside of her.

Freddie's hand appeared. I was shocked to see him reach out and grope her thighs. Lilah seemed oblivious. His brown hand squeezed her flesh while she stirred the dildo into her pussy. I couldn't help but feel a hot flare of anger seeing him fondle such a beautiful specimen like a piece of meat. Freddie wore his signature grin while he slid his hand beneath her and prodded between her ass cheeks with a finger.

I had learned to tolerate Freddie long ago. Why did I suddenly feel like punching him in that moment? Was I that taken with this woman? With every beat of the drum, her hips would snap and roll gently away. Glancing up, I saw the drapes of her black hair hanging from her tilted head.

Lilah stared directly at me.

Her lips fell open, over and over. I couldn't hear it over the blasting guitars, but I knew she was moaning. Either her body made the melody, or the melody powered her body. I couldn't tell. She fucked the fake cock in a way that was poetic and beautiful, literally turning sex into a seductive dance. The way her eyes would narrow every time she moaned was enough to drive me crazy.

The music was silenced for but a few seconds. In a flash Lilah became a windmill of motion, twirling and turning about. As the strobes blinked for a few seconds, her movements became obscure.

Again the tune bellowed, and she was straddling the corner of the stage!

Her legs were draped over the sides. One thick thigh was practically in my lap. Her ass dropped and I was in awe when the fake cock slipped right into her without err. I was then watching her ass cheeks pop up and down, her pussy engulfing the rod repeatedly. My eyes darted over every last inch of her pale flesh. I ignored the groping brown hand sliding over her back. Huge round breasts bounced beneath her, their nipples grazing the stage.

Eyes like ice watched me under shadowy brows. The eyes of a doll. The eyes of a ghost.

The once moaning voice was a enraged scream. The drums fired faster, and so did Lilah's hips. Her mouth opened and those eyes rolled. My cock was ready to burst in my jeans. The masked doll faces appeared behind Lilah, scrambling and clawing for her. A hand clutched her by the hair of her head. A pair of long legs straddled her back. An arm raised high in the air and a knife flashed in the pink lights. Strobes flashed frantically. The fog grew thick and blue. Lilah's image was fading, flickering before my eyes like a dying candle.

The room went black and utterly silent.

I blinked, trying to get a hold of my senses. I could hear the steady gasp of my breath. Looking around was useless. I couldn't see a fucking thing. I heard the mumblings of people behind me. My heart felt like it was in my throat and pounding like a drum in my ears.

The lights in the room rose. Gone were the blues and the pinks of the show. A haze of greyish fog still drifted into the air. The stage was vacant. There were no purple appendages, no eyeless dolls, and there was no Lilah.

She was gone.

Applause rose like a wave crashing against a cliff side. People around the room stood and cheered. I looked around in a daze, feeling like I had just climbed from the seat of a roller coaster. My cock still throbbed in my pants. A gentle tune drifted into The Ballroom as the patrons returned to their seats.

Freddie sat down. "Oh! Oh, fucking insane dude. That chick can dance!"

His hand slapped the stage to emphasize his last word. I stared at him blankly, remembering how offending I had felt seeing him touching Lilah. Now, it seemed foolish. I grabbed my glass and drained the remaining whiskey.

A hand fell on my shoulder. Freddie was right next to me. I could see the glaze of alcohol in his eyes.

"Dude. She took a cherry out of her cunt and put it in your mouth."

I cracked a smile and nodded. The tiny fruit still sat beside my menu screen.

"Wonder how long that was there," Michael said chuckling.

Freddie pointed at him and leaned back in his seat. "Ah! Look at this guy! I told you that you'd come around, you stubborn fucker! How was that lap dance you got?"

Michael furrowed his brow, rubbing two fingers against his thumb. "Uh, interesting. I might need to wash my hands."

Andy jumped from his seat, adjusting his pants as he did. "Y-yeah. Bathroom sounds good."

Freddie looked at him. "Why? What happened to you?"

"Don't worry about it."

As Michael left with Andy on his heels, I exchanged glances with Freddie. The two of us burst out laughing. There was a flash in Freddie's eyes as he looked past me.

Turning, I saw a few older women at the table behind us chatting and staring our way. When they saw our attention was on them, one of them spoke.

"Hey, do you boys like to party?" The woman asked with just the tease of a smile.

She was itching her nose, but doing so pointedly. I spotted a white powdery substance on their table. Two of the women were eyeing Freddie with more than a little interest.

"How did you guess?" Freddie answered.

He rose from his seat with a smile. I sighed.

"Tate, I know you're in."

I grinned at him and stood. "I'm just gonna chill at the bar and unwind for a bit."

"Aw, c'mon man!"

"Pass, dude. Tell Michael I'm at the bar."

****

The Proposal

****

I took a seat on one of the stools at the bar, which was luckily one of a few left during the "intermission". After ordering myself a drink, I lit a cigarette and watched the congregation at the bar. I'd never seen so many people of all different ages in the same social setting. The Ballroom was like an oasis for the rich or privileged. The place held an air of class and sophistication, like it was a secret society or something.

Of course, that veil fell away as the night wore on. The Ballroom was the place for indulgence of all that was forbidden, the very embodiment of temptation, or at least it seemed to me. The place was amazing, but it was unnerving to see some of what went on behind the great wooden doors.

I could see my friends sitting at the table beside our stage. They seemed to be having a great time. I briefly wondered where that would lead. It was a thrilling thought, but for some reason I had little interest in the matter.

It was Lilah. I couldn't stop thinking about her. Her body still moved in my mind. Freddie had said she was a great dancer. The words didn't do her justice. The woman was a painting that moved. She was a dream so potent and marvelous it made the real seem lifeless.

I turned when a woman took the stool beside me.

"Martini. Filthy," she said to the bartender nearest us.

I caught a few side glimpses at the raven haired woman. Sipping my whiskey, I wondered whether or not to greet her. She opened a small blue pocketbook and retrieved a long black cigarette. I'd never seen one like it. Her martini arrived and she smiled brightly at the tall handsome barkeep.

I looked out across the floor toward my friends. They seemed to not notice my absence at the moment. The whiskey was starting to make me pleasantly warm and numb. Maybe they wouldn't miss me for another glass after I finished the one I had.

"You mind if we share this one?"

Her smooth voice startled me. I looked at the woman beside me. My lips moved, but for a few seconds I couldn't force out any words. She was beautiful, that was for sure. She was much older than I, though she wore it extremely well. Elegance radiated from her. The gown she that she wore was the color of twilight in a morning sky. I kept my eyes on hers, doing my best to ignore the gap between her tan breasts where the gown draped low, nearly to her naval.

"The ashtray?" She prompted.

"Oh! Yeah... no, go ahead," I stammered. "Here, here I got it."

I grabbed my lighter from the bar and flicked open the lid, then struck the wheel. The woman smiled and leaned in to the flame, puffing life into her cigarette. This time, my eyes did wonder to her bare sternum and the swells of her breasts. Her skin showed signs of aging, but was not at all unsightly. The flesh seemed seasoned, natural, and sexy.

"Such a gentleman," she teased.

"Where?" I looked behind me, then turned back to her grinning.

She chuckled. "I'm sure there's plenty of them. Although, usually the ones in here aren't so... decorated."

Her dark eyes were on my forearms. I realized that my long sleeves were still pulled up to my elbow, revealing the tattoos that wound up my arm. Pulling them down, I cleared my throat.

"Sorry," I said. "Got a little stuffy."

Her face lit up with a polite grin. "You don't have to hide them. They suit you. You just didn't seem like the usual men I see in here."

"Oh, are you a regular?"

She shrugged and made a face. "You could say that."

"It's my first time." I shook my head, looking out over the floor. "Is this place insane or what?"

"Quite the scene, huh?"

"I've never been anyplace like it." I sipped my whiskey and motioned to the bartender for another. "It's amazing the things they can get away with here."

"Oh, it can't be so bad, can it?" The woman had spun on the stool and crossed her long legs beneath the gown. She held the black cigarette up beside her with her elbow propped on the bar.

"No, no, I mean it's awesome, but what other place has all this under one roof?" I said. "And everything is just out in the open. Seems like if the right people saw this place it'd be shut down."

She flicked her ashes. "Some of the 'right' people aren't exactly right themselves. You might even recognize a few yourself, if you looked hard enough. And why condemn an establishment that lets us be ourselves and be free, while keeping all the so called illegal acts or dangerous habits under one safe roof?"

I smiled. "You've got it all figured out. My buddy says that the owner is in bed with the right people. Or vice versa."

The woman's dark eyes flashed. "The owner?"

"Yeah, this woman called Bloody Mary," I told her.

She grinned and took a drag of her cigarette. I looked at her while she stared at me in silence. There was something about her, a commanding sense of superiority. She seemed so at ease, so content, and so confident. I blinked as the obvious occurred to me.

"Uh... you're... her aren't you?"

The woman brushed her hair over her shoulder, exposing the gentle slope of her neck. Her smile grew and her eyes twinkled.

"Well, I don't own the place," she said. "And I'm not usually called Bloody Mary. At least, not directly."

I grew warm with embarrassment. "I'm... I'm sorry I didn't... mean to offend you or anything I just--"

"Oh hush, sweetie." She waved a hand at me. "I've heard so much worse. We're just chatting. And you can call me Mary."

I breathed a sigh of relief, then held out my hand. "I'm Tate."

Her delicate fingers took mine and she dipped her head.

"Welcome to The Ballroom atop the luxurious Club Elysium, Tate."

Mary's words were as smooth as molasses. She had a kind smile and spoke very politely. I felt at ease beside her.

"How are you enjoying your night?" Mary asked.

I threw up my hands. "It's incredible. I probably won't ever go to another nightclub."

"That's nice of you. We appreciate your business. Big spender, too. Your first trip and you land passes to the Ballroom?"

Under the scrutiny of those dark eyes, I grew somewhat timid.

"It's uh, it's my friend," I admitted. "He got free passes from his dad. See the guys over there at stage three? The handsome ones in the suits?"

Mary nodded, peering over the tables. "Uh-huh."

"My friends are the three dorks at the table next to them. The ones in the polo shirts hitting on those women there."

Mary tossed back her head and laughed. It was a hearty and beautiful sound.

"The black guy is my friend Freddie," I added. "He's the one that got our passes. His dad is the founder of--"