We agreed to meet at La Dolce Vita in North Beach. I spent another hour debugging code and fielding emails, then took the elevator down and set out north on Kearny. I had half an hour to get to the restaurant, so I took my time, and tried hard to see the city that so many others had fallen in love with. I soon gave up. The city's fabled hills and bridges, bathed in translucent late afternoon California sunlight, were unnaturally gorgeous, pristine and soft-edged, like something created by the worker elves of ILM up in Marin. But down on the street there was hardly anything but squalor and madness. San Francisco, like many women, was best appreciated at a distance.
On impulse I stopped at the Sanrio store and bought a wildly overpriced plush toy, an abstracted penguin named Bad Batz Maru. I stuffed him in my bag so that his head stuck out, and he stared impolitely at the sidewalk sleepers we passed on our way through Chinatown.
The Destroyer was waiting for me at the restaurant, loitering near the entrance and smoking. When she saw me she smiled and crushed her cigarette under her sneaker. I kissed her on the cheek and we went inside. We had to wait for a table so we headed for the bar.
I ordered Maker's rocks and she asked for a gin and tonic. We both crossed our legs as we sat on our stools and her knee rested on my shin.
"So, do you do that sort of thing often?" she said.
"What?"
"Pick up girls at laundromats. You do that a lot?"
"Not when I'm sober," I said.
She sipped her drink. "I see. Who's that?"
"Who him?" I turned Bad Batz Maru's head so he gave her a long saucy up-and-down look. "This is a friend from work. He didn't believe I'd actually made a date with a girl without paying cash up front, so he insisted on seeing for himself." Bad Batz Maru looked at me and then back at her. I supplied the wolf whistle. "He thinks you're cute," I said. "He says, 'Hola, mami, you want to take me home?'"
She said, "Fresh thing!" I handed her the penguin. "He's pretty cute too," she said. "I want to bite him. Are penguins good eating?" She made Bad Batz Maru look at me in alarm.
I laughed and noticed the maitre'd waving us to our table. We switched to wine and managed to put away a bottle between the salad and the entreee. By the time the check arrived, we'd finished a second and made a brave attempt at a third. I paid the bill and then we were back on Broadway, surrounded by tourists and sailors and ragged hippies hailing from the Land of the Lost. The flashing lights of a dozen strip clubs threatened to trigger epileptic seizures in the milling crowds.
"Have you ever been in one of those places?" she asked. She swayed against me.
"No, my mom won't let me," I said.
She punched me on the shoulder. "Don't be a dick. Let's go to one."
Well. What do you know. I turned and arched an eyebrow for the benefit of the imaginary audience watching at home. "Which one? This one?" I gestured to the open double doors beside us, garishly lit by hundreds of exposed lightbulbs. A hideous old broad who was probably younger than me, stick thin in a red teddy and 6 inch heels, waved me to come in. I grinned drunkenly at her and started pulling the Destroyer with me.
"No, not that one," she said. She started pulling me towards the street. "We have to get a cab. It's on the other side of town. Mitchell Brothers."
"Whoa, hey," I said. I thought furiously. Was Tsing Tao dancing tonight? Was tonight her night off? I couldn't remember. Fuck! "That's far. Cabs are fucking expensive. We could tip out two strippers for the cost of getting over there. What about this one? The Garden of Eden. 'Put your serpent in our burning bush.' That sounds good, right?"
"Don't be a fag," she said. "Mitchell Brothers is the best. No pasties."
"I had no idea I was dealing with an aficionado. How about this one? Preja Vu. 'You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet.' That sounds good!"
"I want to go to Mitchell Brothers," she insisted. She pushed me back to arm's length. "Unless there's some reason you don't want to go?"
Well, yeah, actually, my ex-girlfriend dances there and it might be a little uncomfortable if she saw me walk in with-
Right.
"Nah. No reason. Just lazy," I said. "Give me convenience or give me death."
"I'll make it real easy for you, I promise," she said, and then we were climbing into a taxi and she was climbing up on me. "Ummmm Polk and O'Farrell," I mumbled around her tongue. We made out in the back seat of the cab like prehistoric teenagers at the drive-in and the driver watched us in the rearview mirror. We arrived at the theater ten minutes later and the Destroyer fell out of the cab onto the sidewalk. I paid the driver. He winked at me and said, "Take good care of her now, my friend."
There are few things creepier than another man's lust.
I paid our cover at the door (forty for me, twenty for her) and had totally forgotten my misgivings until I saw I saw Tsing Tao up on the stage, naked but for a pirate hat on her head, a stuffed parrot on her shoulder, and leather buccaneer boots that ran up to her mid thighs. She was doing remarkable things with a empty bottle of Captain Morgan. Yo ho ho, indeed.
Tsing Tao's co-star, Jade, was writhing on the floor stage right. She too was naked but for a pair of assless, crotchless black pantaloons. Jade was a contortionist and apparently had bound her right leg tightly, heel to ass, so she could sport the wooden peg leg (the foot, conveniently, was a phallic bulb) she waved languidly at Tsing Tao. A techno remix of Gilbert and Sullivan roared from the house speakers.
The Destroyer said, "Oooh. I love pirates!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. You didn't have to be Jeanne Dixon to see the disaster that loomed in my future.
"Let's sit in back where we can have some privacy," I said.
"Noooo I want to see the shooooow," she said. "I want to watch you watch those hot girls." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a small table up front.
Tsing Tao and Jade had reached the climax of their show, in which Sing made the deep personal acquaintance of Jade's wooden leg. I'm not sure who spotted me first-I think maybe Jade did, and her involuntary start of surprise alerted Tsing Tao that something was up-but then Sing was locked on me. Her face kept spasming in histrionic orgasm and her cries of "Oh you nasty cut-throat OH you scourge of the Seven Seas" never faltered, but her face was a plastic Halloween mask, held on with a rubber band. Her eyes never left mine, and I could tell she was pissed.
The Destroyer was rubbing my thigh under the table. "God, this is hot," she said. "Thank you for taking me." She cradled my face in her hand and stuck her tongue in my ear. I swooned. Tsing Tao and Jade left the stage and Motley Crue came on the sound system. The Korean businessmen went wild, pumping their fists in time to the music as the next girl came on and started working the dance pole like a gold medallist in the X rated Olympics.
The Mitchell Brothers theater doesn't serve alcohol-some stupid law about serving in the presence of fully nude women-so I suggested we pop across the street to the liquor store on the corner to top off a bit. I was profoundly drunk, and intent on staying that way. We got stamped by the doorman on the way out and walked across the street. I bought a half pint of Jack Daniels and we reposed in doorway next to the store. We sat on the step and passed the little paper bag back and forth. After the fourth swallow we abandoned the bottle for some lucky alcoholic and returned to the club. Crossing the street was an adventure all by itself.
We managed to reach the wall of the theater and then navigated by touch back through the entrance. Our old table was still open, so for nostalgia's sake we collapsed there.
"I want to buy you a lap dance," the Destroyer said. "Is that OK?"
"Well sure," I said.
She took out a twenty and held it up, trying to attract the attention of one of the girls circulating through the club.
Then Tsing Tao was standing next to her. "You want a dance, honey?" she said.
"I want you to dance for him," the Destroyer said.
"Oh, he's cute," Tsing Tao said. She stroked my cheek. She seized my chin in her hand and turned my face from side to side, pretending to look me over. I seemed to be passing out for microseconds; things moved jerkily as if strobe lit, as if every 4th frame had been removed from the film I was watching. "This will be fun," she said.
"Honkey Tonk Woman" by the Rolling Stones came on. Keith Richards plucked rudely at the strings of his Telecaster and Tsing Tao draped her arms over my shoulders. She let her tits sway against me. She crossed her arms behind my head, pulling my face under her jaw. I said, "What are you doing?" but the rock was blaring and she either didn't hear or pretended not to. She straddled me and expertly located my hard-on with small movements of her hips. I couldn't tell if her accuracy was due to familiarity or professional skill. Once she had me where she wanted me she began to rock back and forth, a little kid in ritalin slo-mo commanding her drug store horsy to gidddyyyy-apppp. Her skin was damp and she smelled like a pastry oven. She hadn't looked at me once since she started dancing.
The Destroyer grinned wolfishly as she watched us. I couldn't tell which one of us she wanted more. Maybe neither. Maybe it was the anonymous spectacle that got her off. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling. It was exactly what I wanted and the worst possible way to get it. The whiskey rolled in my stomach like stormy seas but I'd never been harder in my life. I wanted to fuck Sing til little cartoon birdies floated around her head and then I was probably going to be sick all over her.
She stood up and turned around. Muscles flashed and jumped under her skin. I gripped the edges of my chair as hard as I could to keep from running my hands along her ribs and cupping her tits. She was maneuvering me into what I knew was her favorite sexual position. She brought my legs together between hers. She placed her hands on my knees and arched her back. She rolled in her ass in front of my face, her mesmerizing eye concealed only by the thing blue string of her thong. She let one hand creep inside my inner thigh, promising, promising, and I hated myself as I felt my hips move forward, begging. Instead she brought her hand back to my knee and sat painfully back in my lap. I was lucky my cock didn't snap in half. I cried out and the Destroyer went, "Wooooo!" with Mick Jagger and then it was over.
I was breathing hard and sweating. So was Tsing Tao. We stared at each other, boxers between rounds.
The Destroyer said, "That was so good!" and invited Tsing Tao to have a drink with us. Sing said, "Oh you are so sweet, thank you!" and sat down. I swallowed a groan and asked the waitress to bring us three five dollar cokes.
A towering frat boy approached the table waving a twenty and Sing said, "Later, honey, can't you see I'm sitting with friends?"
She turned to the Destroyer. "You seemed a little left out," she said. I offered to buy the Destroyer a lapdance. She said, "Oh no, no. I just like to watch. I'm sort of shy."
Tsing Tao said, "Maybe you'd like it better if we had a little privacy?"
My mouth tasted like I had been sucking on tin foil. I knew my line. I said, "Like the Private Fantasy Booth?"
Sing turned back to me, eyes wide. "I think that's a great idea," she said. She stood up and took the Destroyer by the hand. She led her through the maze of tables. I followed, weaving slightly. I bumped a table and spilled part of someone's drink but I didn't stop to apologize. Tsing Tao drew the Destroyer to her and took her arm. She leaned in close and whispered in her ear as they walked.
Then she looked back and me and winked. The bitch.
A massive bouncer allowed us into a roped off area at the back of the club. There was a row of heavy black velvet curtains and Tsing pulled one back, inviting us in. Then she let the fabric slip closed into place and we were alone. The main stage was only a dozen yards away, AC/DC thundering from the speakers, but in our little compartment it was as muffled and private as a confessional. Tsing Tao had me sit on the little love seat at the end of the booth.
She stood very close to the Destroyer and kept whispering in her ear. Her hips swayed in tiny movements in time with the distant music. She put the Destroyer's hands on her hips and slowly backed her towards me. When the back of her legs touched my knees Tsing Tao pushed her gently into my lap. My arms automatically went around her, my hands sliding under her shirt, and she twisted around to kiss me. She licked my teeth and bit my lips. I cupped her tiny breasts and pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp.
Tsing Tao reached over to turn a knob that brought the music from the stage into our little lounge. Lynyrd Skynyrd broke over our heads in a thunderclap. She climbed on top on the Destroyer and started her act. Suddenly I was supporting the weight of two women and what had seemed a fabulous idea in the abstract was now crushingly concrete. I couldn't get a decent breath. My hands fell from the Destroyer and lay listlessly on the cushions. They had forgotten me. I was just a lumpier cushion.
Tsing Tao was no longer dancing. She kissed and fondled the Destroyer, who responded in kind. Sing bit her neck and raked her throat with her teeth and then looked at me, the lobe of the Destroyer's ear caught in her teeth. The Destroyer's heavy breathing began to vocalize as moans, growing in volume as Sing pulled her shirt up and went to work on her breasts. I watched over the Destroyer's shoulder as Tsing Tao unbuckled the girl's belt and slid her pants out from under her ass. Then she slipped a hand between her legs and the Destroyer's moans began to reach porn star volume until Sing moved past her towards me and the Destroyer sucked on her breasts like an infant.
Tsing kissed her ears and cooed to her. But she was talking to me as she said, "Ooooooh baby is this what you want? Is this what you oh honey that feels good, do you like this? Is this what you want? Are you a little slut? Are you my little slut?" The Destroyer gasped, "Yeah, yeah." My eyes filled with tears. Tsing Tao reached around behind the Destroyer, unzipped my pants and pulled my cock free. She started lapdancing again and then I slipped inside the Destroyer and she started howling "Oh god awwwwwooowww god FUCK ME PLEASE FUCK ME." Tsing Tao grabbed Bad Batz Maru and shoved it in the Destroyer's mouth. I thought God this is really fucking bad but instead of stopping I grabbed the Destroyer's bony hips even tighter and tried to split her in half. She spit out the penguin and muffled herself in Tsing Tao's breasts. Sing rested her chin on the blonde girl's head and watched me. She offered encouraging moans of her own but her face was stony.
I should have stopped. I should have thrown them both off me and walked out. But I just wanted to be with Tsing Tao again, even if she would only get as close as this hate-fuck-by-proxy. I fucked the Destroyer as hard as I could and pretended she was the next girl down. When I came Tsing Tao bit her hard enough to leave mirrored crescents of angry red dents on her shoulder.
The Destroyer collapsed back against me. She tilted her head back and nuzzled my throat. I stared at the floor. Tsing Tao got up and said, "I've got another show in five minutes."
I struggled to pull out my wallet. I handed her five twenties and she accepted them with a small triumphant grin. Then she slipped out through the heavy black curtain. I was suddenly aware our little love nest stank of cologne and old come.
"Oh my god, that was fun," the Destroyer said. "Can we do this again sometime?"
Sean Manseau can be found at "http://www.dammit.com/ and on SuicideGirls as dammit.
On impulse I stopped at the Sanrio store and bought a wildly overpriced plush toy, an abstracted penguin named Bad Batz Maru. I stuffed him in my bag so that his head stuck out, and he stared impolitely at the sidewalk sleepers we passed on our way through Chinatown.
The Destroyer was waiting for me at the restaurant, loitering near the entrance and smoking. When she saw me she smiled and crushed her cigarette under her sneaker. I kissed her on the cheek and we went inside. We had to wait for a table so we headed for the bar.
I ordered Maker's rocks and she asked for a gin and tonic. We both crossed our legs as we sat on our stools and her knee rested on my shin.
"So, do you do that sort of thing often?" she said.
"What?"
"Pick up girls at laundromats. You do that a lot?"
"Not when I'm sober," I said.
She sipped her drink. "I see. Who's that?"
"Who him?" I turned Bad Batz Maru's head so he gave her a long saucy up-and-down look. "This is a friend from work. He didn't believe I'd actually made a date with a girl without paying cash up front, so he insisted on seeing for himself." Bad Batz Maru looked at me and then back at her. I supplied the wolf whistle. "He thinks you're cute," I said. "He says, 'Hola, mami, you want to take me home?'"
She said, "Fresh thing!" I handed her the penguin. "He's pretty cute too," she said. "I want to bite him. Are penguins good eating?" She made Bad Batz Maru look at me in alarm.
I laughed and noticed the maitre'd waving us to our table. We switched to wine and managed to put away a bottle between the salad and the entreee. By the time the check arrived, we'd finished a second and made a brave attempt at a third. I paid the bill and then we were back on Broadway, surrounded by tourists and sailors and ragged hippies hailing from the Land of the Lost. The flashing lights of a dozen strip clubs threatened to trigger epileptic seizures in the milling crowds.
"Have you ever been in one of those places?" she asked. She swayed against me.
"No, my mom won't let me," I said.
She punched me on the shoulder. "Don't be a dick. Let's go to one."
Well. What do you know. I turned and arched an eyebrow for the benefit of the imaginary audience watching at home. "Which one? This one?" I gestured to the open double doors beside us, garishly lit by hundreds of exposed lightbulbs. A hideous old broad who was probably younger than me, stick thin in a red teddy and 6 inch heels, waved me to come in. I grinned drunkenly at her and started pulling the Destroyer with me.
"No, not that one," she said. She started pulling me towards the street. "We have to get a cab. It's on the other side of town. Mitchell Brothers."
"Whoa, hey," I said. I thought furiously. Was Tsing Tao dancing tonight? Was tonight her night off? I couldn't remember. Fuck! "That's far. Cabs are fucking expensive. We could tip out two strippers for the cost of getting over there. What about this one? The Garden of Eden. 'Put your serpent in our burning bush.' That sounds good, right?"
"Don't be a fag," she said. "Mitchell Brothers is the best. No pasties."
"I had no idea I was dealing with an aficionado. How about this one? Preja Vu. 'You Ain't Seen Nothing Yet.' That sounds good!"
"I want to go to Mitchell Brothers," she insisted. She pushed me back to arm's length. "Unless there's some reason you don't want to go?"
Well, yeah, actually, my ex-girlfriend dances there and it might be a little uncomfortable if she saw me walk in with-
Right.
"Nah. No reason. Just lazy," I said. "Give me convenience or give me death."
"I'll make it real easy for you, I promise," she said, and then we were climbing into a taxi and she was climbing up on me. "Ummmm Polk and O'Farrell," I mumbled around her tongue. We made out in the back seat of the cab like prehistoric teenagers at the drive-in and the driver watched us in the rearview mirror. We arrived at the theater ten minutes later and the Destroyer fell out of the cab onto the sidewalk. I paid the driver. He winked at me and said, "Take good care of her now, my friend."
There are few things creepier than another man's lust.
I paid our cover at the door (forty for me, twenty for her) and had totally forgotten my misgivings until I saw I saw Tsing Tao up on the stage, naked but for a pirate hat on her head, a stuffed parrot on her shoulder, and leather buccaneer boots that ran up to her mid thighs. She was doing remarkable things with a empty bottle of Captain Morgan. Yo ho ho, indeed.
Tsing Tao's co-star, Jade, was writhing on the floor stage right. She too was naked but for a pair of assless, crotchless black pantaloons. Jade was a contortionist and apparently had bound her right leg tightly, heel to ass, so she could sport the wooden peg leg (the foot, conveniently, was a phallic bulb) she waved languidly at Tsing Tao. A techno remix of Gilbert and Sullivan roared from the house speakers.
The Destroyer said, "Oooh. I love pirates!"
I pinched the bridge of my nose. You didn't have to be Jeanne Dixon to see the disaster that loomed in my future.
"Let's sit in back where we can have some privacy," I said.
"Noooo I want to see the shooooow," she said. "I want to watch you watch those hot girls." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to a small table up front.
Tsing Tao and Jade had reached the climax of their show, in which Sing made the deep personal acquaintance of Jade's wooden leg. I'm not sure who spotted me first-I think maybe Jade did, and her involuntary start of surprise alerted Tsing Tao that something was up-but then Sing was locked on me. Her face kept spasming in histrionic orgasm and her cries of "Oh you nasty cut-throat OH you scourge of the Seven Seas" never faltered, but her face was a plastic Halloween mask, held on with a rubber band. Her eyes never left mine, and I could tell she was pissed.
The Destroyer was rubbing my thigh under the table. "God, this is hot," she said. "Thank you for taking me." She cradled my face in her hand and stuck her tongue in my ear. I swooned. Tsing Tao and Jade left the stage and Motley Crue came on the sound system. The Korean businessmen went wild, pumping their fists in time to the music as the next girl came on and started working the dance pole like a gold medallist in the X rated Olympics.
The Mitchell Brothers theater doesn't serve alcohol-some stupid law about serving in the presence of fully nude women-so I suggested we pop across the street to the liquor store on the corner to top off a bit. I was profoundly drunk, and intent on staying that way. We got stamped by the doorman on the way out and walked across the street. I bought a half pint of Jack Daniels and we reposed in doorway next to the store. We sat on the step and passed the little paper bag back and forth. After the fourth swallow we abandoned the bottle for some lucky alcoholic and returned to the club. Crossing the street was an adventure all by itself.
We managed to reach the wall of the theater and then navigated by touch back through the entrance. Our old table was still open, so for nostalgia's sake we collapsed there.
"I want to buy you a lap dance," the Destroyer said. "Is that OK?"
"Well sure," I said.
She took out a twenty and held it up, trying to attract the attention of one of the girls circulating through the club.
Then Tsing Tao was standing next to her. "You want a dance, honey?" she said.
"I want you to dance for him," the Destroyer said.
"Oh, he's cute," Tsing Tao said. She stroked my cheek. She seized my chin in her hand and turned my face from side to side, pretending to look me over. I seemed to be passing out for microseconds; things moved jerkily as if strobe lit, as if every 4th frame had been removed from the film I was watching. "This will be fun," she said.
"Honkey Tonk Woman" by the Rolling Stones came on. Keith Richards plucked rudely at the strings of his Telecaster and Tsing Tao draped her arms over my shoulders. She let her tits sway against me. She crossed her arms behind my head, pulling my face under her jaw. I said, "What are you doing?" but the rock was blaring and she either didn't hear or pretended not to. She straddled me and expertly located my hard-on with small movements of her hips. I couldn't tell if her accuracy was due to familiarity or professional skill. Once she had me where she wanted me she began to rock back and forth, a little kid in ritalin slo-mo commanding her drug store horsy to gidddyyyy-apppp. Her skin was damp and she smelled like a pastry oven. She hadn't looked at me once since she started dancing.
The Destroyer grinned wolfishly as she watched us. I couldn't tell which one of us she wanted more. Maybe neither. Maybe it was the anonymous spectacle that got her off. I couldn't figure out what I was feeling. It was exactly what I wanted and the worst possible way to get it. The whiskey rolled in my stomach like stormy seas but I'd never been harder in my life. I wanted to fuck Sing til little cartoon birdies floated around her head and then I was probably going to be sick all over her.
She stood up and turned around. Muscles flashed and jumped under her skin. I gripped the edges of my chair as hard as I could to keep from running my hands along her ribs and cupping her tits. She was maneuvering me into what I knew was her favorite sexual position. She brought my legs together between hers. She placed her hands on my knees and arched her back. She rolled in her ass in front of my face, her mesmerizing eye concealed only by the thing blue string of her thong. She let one hand creep inside my inner thigh, promising, promising, and I hated myself as I felt my hips move forward, begging. Instead she brought her hand back to my knee and sat painfully back in my lap. I was lucky my cock didn't snap in half. I cried out and the Destroyer went, "Wooooo!" with Mick Jagger and then it was over.
I was breathing hard and sweating. So was Tsing Tao. We stared at each other, boxers between rounds.
The Destroyer said, "That was so good!" and invited Tsing Tao to have a drink with us. Sing said, "Oh you are so sweet, thank you!" and sat down. I swallowed a groan and asked the waitress to bring us three five dollar cokes.
A towering frat boy approached the table waving a twenty and Sing said, "Later, honey, can't you see I'm sitting with friends?"
She turned to the Destroyer. "You seemed a little left out," she said. I offered to buy the Destroyer a lapdance. She said, "Oh no, no. I just like to watch. I'm sort of shy."
Tsing Tao said, "Maybe you'd like it better if we had a little privacy?"
My mouth tasted like I had been sucking on tin foil. I knew my line. I said, "Like the Private Fantasy Booth?"
Sing turned back to me, eyes wide. "I think that's a great idea," she said. She stood up and took the Destroyer by the hand. She led her through the maze of tables. I followed, weaving slightly. I bumped a table and spilled part of someone's drink but I didn't stop to apologize. Tsing Tao drew the Destroyer to her and took her arm. She leaned in close and whispered in her ear as they walked.
Then she looked back and me and winked. The bitch.
A massive bouncer allowed us into a roped off area at the back of the club. There was a row of heavy black velvet curtains and Tsing pulled one back, inviting us in. Then she let the fabric slip closed into place and we were alone. The main stage was only a dozen yards away, AC/DC thundering from the speakers, but in our little compartment it was as muffled and private as a confessional. Tsing Tao had me sit on the little love seat at the end of the booth.
She stood very close to the Destroyer and kept whispering in her ear. Her hips swayed in tiny movements in time with the distant music. She put the Destroyer's hands on her hips and slowly backed her towards me. When the back of her legs touched my knees Tsing Tao pushed her gently into my lap. My arms automatically went around her, my hands sliding under her shirt, and she twisted around to kiss me. She licked my teeth and bit my lips. I cupped her tiny breasts and pinched her nipples hard enough to make her gasp.
Tsing Tao reached over to turn a knob that brought the music from the stage into our little lounge. Lynyrd Skynyrd broke over our heads in a thunderclap. She climbed on top on the Destroyer and started her act. Suddenly I was supporting the weight of two women and what had seemed a fabulous idea in the abstract was now crushingly concrete. I couldn't get a decent breath. My hands fell from the Destroyer and lay listlessly on the cushions. They had forgotten me. I was just a lumpier cushion.
Tsing Tao was no longer dancing. She kissed and fondled the Destroyer, who responded in kind. Sing bit her neck and raked her throat with her teeth and then looked at me, the lobe of the Destroyer's ear caught in her teeth. The Destroyer's heavy breathing began to vocalize as moans, growing in volume as Sing pulled her shirt up and went to work on her breasts. I watched over the Destroyer's shoulder as Tsing Tao unbuckled the girl's belt and slid her pants out from under her ass. Then she slipped a hand between her legs and the Destroyer's moans began to reach porn star volume until Sing moved past her towards me and the Destroyer sucked on her breasts like an infant.
Tsing kissed her ears and cooed to her. But she was talking to me as she said, "Ooooooh baby is this what you want? Is this what you oh honey that feels good, do you like this? Is this what you want? Are you a little slut? Are you my little slut?" The Destroyer gasped, "Yeah, yeah." My eyes filled with tears. Tsing Tao reached around behind the Destroyer, unzipped my pants and pulled my cock free. She started lapdancing again and then I slipped inside the Destroyer and she started howling "Oh god awwwwwooowww god FUCK ME PLEASE FUCK ME." Tsing Tao grabbed Bad Batz Maru and shoved it in the Destroyer's mouth. I thought God this is really fucking bad but instead of stopping I grabbed the Destroyer's bony hips even tighter and tried to split her in half. She spit out the penguin and muffled herself in Tsing Tao's breasts. Sing rested her chin on the blonde girl's head and watched me. She offered encouraging moans of her own but her face was stony.
I should have stopped. I should have thrown them both off me and walked out. But I just wanted to be with Tsing Tao again, even if she would only get as close as this hate-fuck-by-proxy. I fucked the Destroyer as hard as I could and pretended she was the next girl down. When I came Tsing Tao bit her hard enough to leave mirrored crescents of angry red dents on her shoulder.
The Destroyer collapsed back against me. She tilted her head back and nuzzled my throat. I stared at the floor. Tsing Tao got up and said, "I've got another show in five minutes."
I struggled to pull out my wallet. I handed her five twenties and she accepted them with a small triumphant grin. Then she slipped out through the heavy black curtain. I was suddenly aware our little love nest stank of cologne and old come.
"Oh my god, that was fun," the Destroyer said. "Can we do this again sometime?"
Sean Manseau can be found at "http://www.dammit.com/ and on SuicideGirls as dammit.
VIEW 25 of 25 COMMENTS
like you were there the whole time watching it all go down
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