She's Like a Shot, Good 'Till Morning

Fog roofed the stage and floor as the exotic entertainers did their job. Dancing with dollars tucked under the straps of their thongs and bras. My friends and I were near the front and center at a large table with dancers of our own. A valued group of costumers that hit this bar at least once a week.

“Take the fucking shot Zack! Take it!” Gates shouts across the table banging a fist against the screwed down table.

Money, cigarettes, empty bottles and full glasses were scattered around the table. A stripper is attached to Shadz’ lap and there’s two rubbing around on Rev. Zack takes the shot that Syn has been screaming about and I’m just sitting here lost in the blaring alternative rock music.

“Here,” Rev slides me a plate of cocaine. I breathe in through my nose a couple times before pressing my face against the plate that has been only god knows where and down the white happy powder.

A blonde dancer walks away after trying to latch herself to Zack, trying to get his attention but the drugs and booze have him entranced.

“Dude, cheer the fuck up or the gay rumors will start up again. I, myself will start them.” Matt yelled over the table, motioning for a dancer to come over. He sat in between Synyster and Zacky.

“Hello daddy, I’ve been a very bad girl today.” Her breasts were encased in a very tight ruby red corset and over compensated her body. Her hair wrapped around her shoulders and a shade of deep black. She twirls around for Matt and shows him an even better asset. She buckled forward when his hand tapped that.

I brought another plate of cocaine forward and sent it through my system. “Pick a girl, any fucking girl and get her over here!” Matt continued, so I browse around the bar and my eyes linger on a woman that’s scantily dressed in a loose fitting dress. She’s sitting with a group of guys three tables over draining a shot glass.

“She a dancer?” I ask over to Zacky who was tapping the edge of his nose.

“Does it fucking matter?” True point, it doesn’t matter, I’m Johnny fucking Christ.

Jimmy and his two dancers get up and leave to what I expect to be a private room and the girl three tables over looks in our direction.

“Can I get you guys anything else?” The girl that was previously attached to Zack howls over the music holding a serving tray at her hip.

“Want to take a shot with me?” I was paying no attention to the girl a few tables over so I hadn’t notice her walk right over to our table to where she’s now standing in front of me. The blonde had me going for a moment.

“Fuck yeah.” I get up to my feet and follow her to the bar; she takes my hand in hers as if leading me there.

“Two double Smirnoff shots.” She demands over the music, sitting herself down in a stool, I take the seat next to her and as soon as I’m sitting she leans over, in close.

“So babe what’s your name?” She coos in my ear, I chuckle at the light touch of her tongue against my lobe.

“Johnny and you darling,”

“Mercy,” A grin spreads across her face; her face looks as white as a banshee under the neon lights of the bar.

“Beautiful name,” The bartender slides us our shots and down the hatchet they go. She slides her hand up my thigh and squeezes inward. I laugh to myself as my hand travels up her side. My eyes are connected with hers as the vibration of the music bangs against me. She places a soft bite against the palm of my hand as I rest it on her cheek.

“Wanna come back to my place?” She slurs when she leans in, close enough where her almost exposed breasts are pressing against my forearm that’s resting on the bar top.

“Fuck yeah, let’s go.” I skim my arm around her right side promptly, lifting up half her weight as she slides the bartender a bill.

I rip away the dress that loosely covers her slender figure and toss it in some direction. My hand slithers up her thigh to her shoulder and the spots in between as she licks her lips seductively. I pull off my shirt and she falls backwards onto the hotel bed. I pin her down against the softened fabric with my hips. Pulling her hands above her head, my fingers dance against the polished smooth skin of her forearm until our fingers clasp within each other.

Hungrily I push my lips against hers, rubbing my lips against the roughness of hers that taste of my favorite drinks. I suck on her upper lip, her lower lip, I beg her for entrance of the sweetness of her mouth. The slight coolness of her tongue ring threw me off for a second but turns me on even longer.

Our hands tighten together as I search every angle of her mouth, pressing myself harder against her, the craving to access her deeper grows larger. Her body is burning against mine as I move from her mouth to the lower parts of her face. She tugs my hair and I grunt, her finger nails dig into the tops of my hands and I just have to bite into her body. As I bite her jaw her knees fasten against my hips and she pushes against me, I can feel a slight wiggle and rhythm to the way she’s dancing.

This is nerve-racking and torturous, this teasing, but at the same time as I’m licking the wound I made, I’m enjoying it.

Our bodies are shaking and throbbing; ready to explode; she tore away the cloth from my body and I threw her underwear somewhere.

As I push through her lips firmly her hands pound against my back and she squeals in a pleasure. I close my eyes as my breathing already starts to flare, I start building up the pace and she moves her body with mine perfectly. She ties her legs around my waist in a boa hold and I hit her most inner walls; I grind my teeth in satisfaction as I try to plunge in deeper each time.

Her moist legs slide against my back; I can feel it damp with perspiration as well. Our hips collide again and again as our pace is at its quickest; a burning is heating up against my skin with every hit against her body. Her feet strike against my back and legs repeatedly and I sink my mouth into her shoulder, needing to take a bite, to get into her further.

She bellows in excitement as she releases, calling out my name in this significant howl. I push inside her one last time before releasing myself, not being able to hold on any longer.