Escape

Her sequined skirt – red as madness, green like envy – flapped to the rhythm of her jubilant hips, as her body twirled, and her dance allied with the fury of the night. The speakers pounded incessantly, each tom tom drumming in her chest and perforating her mind with the raging language of exhilaration. She walked up to the bar, where the desperate fiends stripped their preys naked with imperious eyes – bloodshot, aching, and starving with lust. After two vodka tonics – “three lemons on each, please” – she lifted her frazzled skirt all the way up, exposing her sleek pale thighs for the mad ones to crave. The fiend at the right caught on to the motions of insinuation, smelled the stench of need, and following her game, extended his left arm to rub the inside of her thighs. It was an assertive grip rather than a smooth caress, and she loved it. She bit her lower lip and threw her head back. He smirked as his hand clutched tighter. He stood up first, and she trailed after, silently making their way out of Nick’s. The crispness of the midnight air felt refreshing and consoling against their moist skin. They stepped further into the night, and relieved their desires beneath the cape of moon shadows.