All out and Over

As ecstasy flooded her body, and she could not hold it in to scream his name, she felt his body going limp and crashing on her petite physique. Their warms breaths clashed. His weight was on her and their sweat mixed. Little drops had been traveling down her small frame, circling around her belly button on a heavy heaving stomach. God, this was some of the better plotting. Never had she imagined this would work out so well. The bastard. She pushed him off her and he fell next to her on the cushions. Both panting they stared at the ceiling of the tent.

“Well, that was fun,” she said still dyspneic. Her show paint was probably smeared all across her face and bust, but she did not care. She liked it dirty. She propped herself up unto her elbows.

“You still here?” She said, as her eyes lingered over his body. Dmitri had an amazing body. His toned abdominal muscles stretched across his stomach as he panted with her, finding his breath. Those strong robust arms that had grabbed ahold of her earlier behind the lion’s cages now lay next to him on the bed.

“Is this how it is going to be, huh?” he said as he grinned at her, baring the same pointy teeth as his lions. He tried grabbing her small waist but she dodged his muscled arms. She had things to do and she just got off. He had no other use to her anymore. Not since she knew. Not after that revelation. Secrets spilled that had to remain hidden. Now that they were out, so was she, climbing out of the bunk.

“Yeah, I don’t like suspicion around the others. It is fun and it is great, but no one needs to know, right.”

“I feel that it is better that way,” he said. That sultry dark voice, those long, dark locks around his face. Maybe she wanted to crawl back into that bed with him, even though he was a son of a bitch. A son of a bitch with crazy eyes. Eyes so crazy he could almost control her. Almost.

The flicker of a few candles caught her eyes and saved her from another round of some steamy wrestling beneath the sheets. As much as she wanted to hurt him, she wanted to have him, too. She couldn’t. She knew as much. Like always, the fire drew Cara nearer, she stepped towards the candles that stood upon his great suitcases. It’s where he stored his performance wardrobe, his red velvet, drenched in lions scent. The dancing flames called to her and she bent her face closer, knowing it would push her hips back into his view, her firm bottom up his line of sight. Why not tease him a bit, make him want it, but not giving in a second time? Her hand flew over the flame and she felt the heat burning her skin. Fire. She lived for it. She breathed the carbon dioxide the flames radiated; her blood ran only when fueled by this illuminative magic.

“Go easy there, firecracker,” she heard Dmitri say behind her. “I don’t like my tent blazing the way you like yours.”

Cara turned her head towards him and grinned that crazy, insane grin that only she was capable of. It was devilish and it was appealing. Dmitri might not have a fire act but he was playing with fire. He was playing with her and she was as blazing as they got.

Bending her head close to the fire again, she let the fire walk her tongue before putting out the flames with her lips. It did not burn her. She was a fire eater, for God’s sake. She played with fire her entire life, lighting up more than asked for.

“Don’t worry about the fire,” she said. Her voice had that deranged edge on it. “I am good with fire.”

“You are good with a lot of things,” Dmitri replied hinting at more than her circus act. He pushed away the sheets and started putting on his pants. He knew that when the fire went out, he would not get any more. She pleased and had been pleased. Her raging hunger had been stilled and so had her craziness. It was time to be smart again. It was time for her actions not to be driven by primal desire but by cunning plans.

I need to see Malory.

“If you keep being kind to me, I will show you some other tricks up my sleeve.” She said with a small twisted laugh. A little cracked mirror in the corner of the tent showed her reflection. The dark eye make-up had ran down her cheeks from sweating, and the red on her lips had smudged in other ways.

“What sleeves,” Dmitri said as he buttoned up his dirty white shirt. Cara looked at herself. He was right, what sleeves? She was still wearing close to nothing. Quickly she grabbed her satin red corset and laced it up. Black and white striped short pants where pulled over her red lacy thong and around her neck she wore a clown’s collar of faded white lace. She didn’t need to see how it looked, she needed to go.

“You are really sure you are finished for tonight?” He said while he bound his hair in a loose ponytail. The white shirt around his muscled thorax was smudged, some was probably her make-up, and it was almost convincing her to stay, tear it from his body again. He looked as good as the devil in a suit.

I really need to go see Malory.

“I am fairly sure,” she said as she passed him towards the tent opening. She blew him a little kiss before disappearing through the cloth’s gap, swaying her hips as she did. Her tailbone started tingling again and she really needed to see Malory. She needed to remember why he was such an asshole, and why she wanted to do more to him than she had just done.

The circus grounds were a desolate place after the show had ended. No running children anymore, no balloons going up in the air and no sound of a wailing child. The music wasn’t playing and the only lights came from tents and some fires that had been lit. Some people huddled around them, talking and tattling together. They watched her as she passed and she watched them. The circus is not a safe place.

Her busted laced boots where accumulating mud around the soles and the broken, muddy ground sucked in her feet as she trudged on. While navigating to Malory’s trailer, the warm summer air felt like a blanket around her.

Malory. Dear Malory.

However great the glow of her ecstasy, it was wearing down now that Cara neared the trailer. Every step closer made her feel something she had not felt often before. Guilt.

She thought of Malory. Malory, with her great full figure and that roaring laugh that made her feel so at home. She thought of that striped dress, the one that complimented Madame’s figure so wonderfully, the one that made her wear her own striped short shorts. Would she wear it tonight?

The trailer loomed up in her sight. She was nearing home. Home, even though their circus was in another place every few days. This trailer was home, much more than her own bunk in one of the wagons.

She pushed herself up the steps of the trailer, hearing Malory’s voice already in her mind.

“Just pretend nothing happened. Pretend you do not know. We don’t need him to suspect anything. Sleep with him, please him, maybe even more now than you did before. You can do that right? I know you can do that. Look at that frame, what man would not fall for such perky breasts and firm ass. That stomach of yours, it looks like it is made of steel.” Malory poked her finger against her bare abs. She was right, Cara had a great body. She was still wearing the triangle bra and her tight shorts from the performance. Her hula-hoop with flames blazing around it was still resting against her hips. She was warm and sweaty from the performance. The oil that has spurted from her mouth now dripping down her neck and between her breasts. Malory had come to see her. It made her radiate with pride.

“I can do that. I would rather execute my plan immediately though,” she said. Fury was still in her like the flames on her hula-hoop.

“Shush my dear. You act before you think. Keep him ignorant for a while. Please him. For me.”

She nodded. “If it is truly what you want?” Malory did not respond anymore as she turned and one of her amazing dresses she wore swirled around with her. She disappeared from view. The mysterious cunning woman. Home.

“I’m home!” she yelled as she entered the dark tent of Malory’s, walking past the crystal ball her Madame displayed on her table. Peering into it, she saw nothing. Dark purple drapes hung from the walls of the trailer and tarot cards were littered on the floor. It smelled funny, it always did. Incense was burning in the corner, its smoke twirling into the air. It smelled funny, but it was home.

“I said, I’m home!”