Dirty Little Freaks (4 page)

I smile, my best impression of a flirty diva that probably ends up looking like a cross between a serial killer and a Prozac dependant preacher’s wife. He digs it though, he watches me the entire time I shove through the crowd towards him.

"Hey," I say, using my A game material on him.

He nods, “What’s up?”

I can barely hear him but I’m pretty damn good at reading lips. “Not much, you?”

The conversation continues along this vein while Rod (yeah, his name is Rod) and I get to know each other on a personal level. I finally lick my lips slowly and pantomime a drinking motion. He’s not
that
stupid, and he picks up what I’m laying down. He leans in and yells, “Do you want a drink?”

“Heck yes,” I yell back.

“What? I said do you want a drink?” he yells even louder.

“Yes! A vodka Redbull!” I practically scream in his face.

He hears that and signals a waitress. She looks bored and angry as he screams our drink order in her general direction. The music is thumping even louder. I wonder how deaf I’ll be when I’m forty...or thirty. How long can my ears handle this weekly abuse? I smile at Rod and he nods back, vaguely keeping time with the song. I wonder where Eva is, if she’s on stage with her massive cock obsession yet.

Ok, time to ramp this up a little. I look around for somebody I know. I need to get righteously messed up tonight, and the drinks aren’t going to do it. I scan continuously, this obviously makes Rod uncomfortable, he thinks I’m looking for new cock. What the fuck is his problem, it can’t be new if I haven’t had his yet. Fuck, I hate possessive men, like the minute their jizz hits my skin, I’m marked for life. I try to avoid eye contact with him and keep looking.

I see Eva on stage with her guy; she’s beaming and looks so fucking proud it’s almost comical. I smile and keep looking until I spot an old friend of mine, Sarai Blessing, an aging hippy chick who’s always packing the good stuff. I wave my hand frantically at her, willing her to notice. She’s so spaced out, she doesn’t see anything at first. I am about to give up when a flash of recognition crosses her face and she sees me. That’s right, close your mouth and float on over here sweetie. She’s pretty out of it and looks at Rod intently, from top to bottom, when she makes it to our corner. She perches on one of the tall chairs and leans on the tiny table, wobbling and pushing Rod’s elbow off. He looks perturbed but relieved I was inviting another chick over. No battle of the sausage tonight big guy, relax. She leans in close to me and says, “What the fuck is going on here?” gesturing towards Rod.

“Nothing much at all,” I reply and we both laugh...her a few minutes too long. I need to get up to where she is, it looks like a fun high.

“Excuse me,” the waitress interrupts us and pushes her way to the table. She speaks to Rod, he hands her a roll of bills, and she leaves a tray of drinks. Not one of them looks like a vodka and Redbull. I know, first world problems, right? But, fuck I wanted something that would complement the X.

He looks so proud, I feel obligated to smile and choose a drink that is at least clear. The worst thing to take when you’re high is one of these creamy shitty cocktails, nothing with Malibu or Baileys. I see one, take a test sip and find it’s a gin and tonic. It will do. I hand a glass to Sarai and we toast before we down the drinks. I take mine like a shooter, I’m pretty good that way. I have this trick of opening my throat and letting the liquid pour down, it works like a charm for sucking cock too. I’m rather proud of it, I kinda wish I could put it on my résumé.

Rod seems sad to be left out, so the next shot I toast him as well, he lights up like a kid on Christmas. Geeze, set your standards higher, dude. We keep this up for a few drinks. Finally I turn to Sarai and say “Are you packing?”

She blinks twice, slowly, and nods.

“Whattya got?” I ask.

“Just X,” she replies in her spacey voice.

“Nothing better?” I ask, hoping for something to get me right trashed in order to fuck Rod, coke would probably do the trick.

Sarai reaches out and touches my cheek. She blinks slowly again and says “No, just the X.”

“Ok, I’ll take it.” Beggars can’t be choosers after all. We exchange money for pills and I look at Rod, I show him the drugs in the palm of my hand and ask “You in?” He shakes his head no and points at the rest of the shooters. He plans on getting shitfaced; if I want him in working condition later, I'd better get him away from the booze right away.

I look down at a pill. These ones are pink with a hippo in a tutu on it. I love the design that goes into these things, one of those unnoticed treasures of the art world. One day I want to compile them all into a coffee table book with a pretentious title. I pop it in my mouth and swallow a tequila shooter. I grimace at the taste, not sure if it's the pill it the booze, and shove the other three in the pocket with my money. I grab Rod's hand and wait for the pill to take effect.

It never fails. Every time I get high there is a point about fifteen minutes in when I doubt the drug. I always think it's not working or maybe I need to take more. I start to feel anxious, drop Rod’s hand and pull my phone out a couple of times to see how long it’s been.

And then it hits me. I can feel the music. I don’t mean like feel the beat because the sound waves travel through the air and vibrate my eardrum. I mean fucking feel the music. It’s in my blood; the notes are floating through the air like a Disney animation and sliding into my body, entering my blood stream and energizing my limbs. I start to sway with the background, the bass....it’s hypnotic and speaking to me. Out of all the hard, thrashing sounds they are dropping tonight, I connect to that underline. I feel like I could float a few feet off the ground and follow the trail of music.

I feel strong hands around my waist. I know I’m fucking high when I don’t react badly. If I’m down, I’d probably turn around and knee the unlucky dude in the balls. Instead I turn, feeling the music and probably looking like a freaky Whirling Dervish in slow motion, and come face to face with Rod. He’s such a tool, I know this, on some level I still know this dude’s a bit of a douche, but I don’t care. I’m not marrying him. He runs his hands up and down the front of me, settling on my breasts and massages me slowly to the music. It feels fucking good. I want to wrap my legs around him and slide his cock inside of me on the dance floor, but that will get you kicked out faster than you can yell “It’s not what it looks like.” Believe me, I know.

Instead we start to dance. I can tell he’s not feeling that same hypnotic bass line, he’s riding a different wave than I am. He’s drunk and I’m high on X, it’s like watching TV versus listening to the radio. The overall effect is to communicate information, but the medium is vastly different. I’m still feeling it; I’m so far over the rainbow that I’d probably feel anything right now. I’d probably slobber all over Fake Grady’s cock right now if he whipped it out and wiggled it at me. Rod’s ok though, I can tell he’s really trying to please me. I’m a hard girl to please, so I give him a smile and some encouragement in the form of stroking him through his jeans. He grinds his pelvis on me and pulls me tight into him. I melt with all the sensation and start to float on a cloud of pleasure. He’s got his hands down the back of my skirt, his finger finds the elastic waist of my shredded tights and he slips down. The music has stopped and they’re piping out some canned punk beats, so the floor is still crowded but not as agro.

I feel his fingers push farther and slide to the front. He’s grinding his hard dick against my thigh, I hold his thick arms, hang on and pull one leg up to wrap around him. He finds my slit and jams a thick finger inside of me. It’s dark, we’re surrounded by gyrating couples and I’m riding his fat finger like a cock when she finds us.

All I know is I’m flying through the air. Bitch grabbed me by the hair and yanked back as hard as she could, I think I lost a couple extensions. She’s a pretty big girl, so it was really fucking hard. I have never seen her before, but her eyes are full of pure rage. She’s not high, she’s not drunk, she’s just really fucking pissed. I try to stand up but my legs feel wobbly. Rod is standing there with a look of guilt on his face and his thick finger still curled up, drying in the air.

“What the FUCK do you think you’re doing?” Hulk Chick screams at him.

“I told you, I’m out with the guys,” Rod protests. I swear his eyes cross. What the hell was I thinking? He’s so not my type.

“Oh, and this is one of the guys?” Hulk Chick screams and points at me. I don’t want any part of this so I get to my feet and move away. I feel for my wallet, but it’s gone. I spot it at Rod’s feet. It must have wiggled loose while I was wiggling on top of him. Gross, he really is far from my usual conquest. I keep an eye on Hulk Chick and edge towards my wallet. I swoop in, grab it and start to back away. Hulk catches me out of the corner of her eye and loses it. She comes at me swinging her meaty hands and I duck. She’s caught off balance so I throw her a wicked left hook as she stumbles past. Her head snaps back and pain radiates through my hand. This isn’t any way to enjoy X. Come on, let me get back to communing with the universe.

Hulk stands up and searches for me. She locks my gaze and rushes me. I hear somebody scream my name and I put my dukes up, old timey boxing style. Let’s get real though, I have no fucking idea what I’m doing, the first one was just a lucky break.

I feel my feet leave the floor and Hulk rushes past me. My arms are pinned and I start to wiggle, trying to break free.

“What the fuck are you doing? Let me go!! I need to fight!” I scream.

“I’m saving your life, sweetheart, did you get a good look at her? She’ll lay you flat if she connects,” this deep, smooth voice says in my ear. It’s like listening to sex, if sex could talk, he’s got a bedroom voice and I feel myself heat up immediately.

“But what about Rod?” I ask, suddenly attached to him, or possibly not wanting to lose to Hulk Chick. I’m such a competitive asshole at times.

“I think he’s gone,” he replies and turns with me still in his arms, and gives me a good look of Hulk and Rod leaving the club. They’re hand in hand and Rod’s got his head down like a shameful little boy.

“Well that sucks donkey balls, I didn’t even get off,” I say and finally wiggle free. I spin around to confront a six and a half foot wall of tattooed muscle.

“Well, helloooo there,” I say and smile, feeling quite in touch with the sensual side of life again. I look him up and down, trailing my fingernail along his arm as I do. He’s got tattoos circling up both arms, complete sleeves that continue under his tee shirt. I see a dragon on one side and a Japanese Koi on the other, many of the patterns and images aren’t big enough to register right now, I’ll need to study them later. He’s built, not overly muscled like a gym rat or Rod, but lean and muscular. Just the way I like ‘em. His face is classically handsome, like a Disney prince. You know what I mean, square jaw, one of those little ass cheek chins with the hole in the middle, a perfect set of white teeth and a straight, strong nose. His eyes though, that’s what throws me for a loop. They are a piercing blue-green, a colour I’ve never seen before. He is also sporting a tall mohawk, a real one, not one of those pussy faux-hawks so popular these days. The green spikes rise about eight inches off his head, the rest of him is shaved bald.

“Hey, we match,” I giggle, indicating my own green hair.

“Yeah, cool,” he says, and looks over my shoulder. God he’s tall...and stacked. I just need to convince him he needs dirty sex.

“You look like you need dirty sex,” I say, my voice sounding more and more like a fucking hippy the deeper I fall into his spell. I know it is the X talking, but this guy is perfect, he is everything I ever dreamed about all wrapped up in one cool-assed aloof and mysterious package.

“Ha, you look like you need a nap,” he replies, then motions to somebody behind me. I turn around and see Eva hanging off the arm of her massive cock guy, Diesel. What a stupid name, I hope he wants us to call him Gage.

“Fuck, Jade! I thought you were going to get your ass kicked!” she shrieks in my ear as she hugs me close. “You looked like you were fighting underwater, what are you on?”

“Just a little harmless X,” I whisper back. “I’m going to fuck this mohawk dude here, so you need to split.” At least I thought I was whispering, but apparently X makes me loud as fuck, because mohawk was laughing and had his hands up in mock surrender.

“Jade, you idiot, I sent him over here. This is Hush, he plays bass with the band,” Eva says in an angry, low tone. “This is the guy I told you about!”

I gulp. Like, a total cartoon gulp. “Are you for real? Well, this is awkward,” I say, trying my best to look contrite. I am still planning on fucking him, but would have to really think about this instead of pulling a hit and run. It’s hard to have a quickie when it looks like you’ll be seeing more of him thanks to Eva and her newfound love. Maybe her plan to double date won’t be such a bad one after all.

“Why don’t we all go back to your place?” Diesel suggests, rubbing Eva’s back, “after the last set here.”

“Sounds good to me!” Eva grins, and reaches down to rub his crotch. I look at Hush and catch him staring at me. He’s definitely down to fuck, I’m sure of it. I shoot him what I assume is a sexy smile, if a “Gary Busey on crack” smile can ever be considered sexy. I’ve really got to work on this in the mirror; this flirting thing could come in handy.

We sit at one of the tall tables for the last few minutes of the band’s break. Eva is pressed up against Diesel, wiggling on him like she is giving him a lap dance in the VIP lounge. Every snotty little cunt that walks past shoots her a look of pure hatred. They all wish they could be in her spot and Eva is eating it up with a big old spoon.

I can barely look away from Hush. Fuck, he is smoking hot. I know it’s the X, logical me interjects, but he is fucking unbelievable. He’s got to be a total dick if he looks like that. Speaking of dick...I lean over and smile at him, working on keeping the insanity and lust out of my eyes. “So, you come here often?” I ask, deliberately cheesy. I think I even wag my eyebrows up and down a couple of times.