Ryan, Just Admit It

Micki and I arrived at Interzone around fifteen minutes ago. We've been weaving our way through a sea of black fabric ever since, keeping an eye out for dreadlocks and wine bottles and trying not to choke on the clove cigarrette smoke. The layout of the club consists of two levels; the second being a sort of open floor plan balcony looking down on the stage, and the entire place is peppered with privacy alcoves made to look like opium dens. Both floors are replete with bars and darksider kids, some in their twenties with wristbands like us for those above the drinking age.
The crowd is not amused with the opening act, it seems, which is an unfortunate local Psychedelic Furs cover band called President Gas. They've launched into a version of "Pretty in Pink" that's seeming to piss a lot of people off.
"Fuck You! You Suck!" an emaciated looking girl with a nose piercing yells at the stage as we pass her by.
Poor guys. I wouldn't want to be in their shoes right now. Micki takes my hand as we make our way back downstairs to the main floor. I try not to feel the electricity in her touch, opting instead to picture the "Time for Donuts" guy beating off in front of a guy in a Nixon mask.
"Heyyyyy! It's Gorgeous and The Man!" we hear a familiar sounding voice behind us, "Excellent!"
Whaddaya know, it's Spicoli from the ticket counter. We turn and smile in recognition, "How's it going?" I say in greeting.
Spicoli is carrying a bottle filled with bright green liquid, and he raises it a tad in the air, "It would be a lot better if these guys didn't suck so much." he tells us, "Drink?"
Micki and I look at each other, hesitating. Finally, I give in and say, "Sure."
"Follow me." Spicoli says, leading us to one of the opium den alcoves on the main floor and ushering us inside. There's a surferish looking blonde female already sitting on a cushion inside wearing a pair of cutoffs and floral halter top, "Hey man, you wanna hit this?" she chokes, handing Spicoli a roach clip, "What's up? I'm Summer." she says to us.
Spicoli takes a drag off the roach, "Summer, this is Gorgeous and The Man. Dudes; Summer, my old lady."
"Actually, my name's Ryan and this is Micki." I say as Spicoli produces two martini glasses, pours a small amount in each glass, and hands them to us.
"Nice to meet you." Summer tells us, "Cop a squat and stay a while, me and Trey aren't re-emerging until Jane's comes on. This band is way too bogus."
Micki and I sit in a brocade beanbag chair together and both slam our drinks because the club is already hot, and the main act hasn't even come on yet. The mystery of Spicoli's name is solved, but I still feel like sticking with Spicoli.
"Damn, you guys are hardcore." he says to us, "Nobody tips back absinthe like that unless they party hard."
Absinthe? Oh, shit. Fuck. Doesn't it have hallucinogenic properties? Micki and I glance at each other, trying to mask our aghast.
"Do you guys know a kid named Malpheus?" Micki asks them.
"Yeah man, I've seen that cat around." Spicoli replies, "You know him?"
"We're supposed to get something from him." I say cryptically.
"Oh, well, if you need to score some grass, we've got the heady shit right here." Summer offers.
Great. It seems as if we've backed ourselves into a corner. I have to play this just right because they know this Malpheus kid and from our previous scan of the club, we'd never be able to pick him out on our own, "Sure." I reply as Micki stares at me, "Could I get a dime sack?"
I pull my wallet out of my back pocket, grazing Micki's thigh in the process. Fuck, she's too close.
"Ten clams, my good man." Summer says as she weighs a small amount of bright green pot in a baggie with a hand scale.
"So what do you guys know about this kid? My brother told us to meet him; I have no idea what this guy's about." I lie, trying to pump them for information as I hand Summer a ten spot.
"His rep around the scene is hardcore ladies man, bra." Spicoli 'nee Trey says, passing me the baggie.
I slip it in my front pocket and nod in thanks, practically feeling Micki's confusion at my motives, "Ladies man? she asks.
"Oh yeah, he's got all the vampire-lookin' chicks spreading their legs. Word around the campfire is that he's a really groovy lay." Summer responds.
Interesting. That must be the 'reward' from the curse. "Have you seen him here yet?" Micki questions further.
"Oh, The Man, you better watch out, or he'll try to nail your old lady!" Spicoli kids me, laughing, "Naw, he usually appears for Jane's only; he feels he's too good for an opening act."
"Ryan, can I get you alone for a second?" Micki asks me, tugging my sleeve.
Summer and Spicoli look knowingly at each other, chuckling, "Dude, you're The Man, bro!" he chuffs.
Micki and I rise awkwardly from the beanbag, "Thanks for the grass; I'm sure we'll run into you guys again." I say to them, raising an eyebrow, "Duty calls."
"Have fun! See you around!" they chime as we exit the alcove.
We make our way back upstairs, she pulls me into an empty alcove in the back corner and closes the curtain. "Ryan, you just bought marijuana!" she hisses at me.
"And?" I shrug.
"It's illegal!" she protests.
"So is breaking and entering, and we have no problem doing that often." I argue, "It got us information, did it not?"
Micki nods grudgingly, breathing in deeply, "I think I need to sit down." she says, plopping into a beanbag.
Whoa. All the colors just got a little brighter suddenly, and I'm starting to feel floaty. I land next to her on the beanbag, "This is not good." I groan, "Absinthe; I should have fucking known."
"I feel so light-headed." Micki lets out seductively, "Everything looks so pretty."
Well, she's right about that. I glance at her next to me, and am in awe. Her beauty has doubled, if that makes any sense. Micki's skin and eyes seem to glow preturnaturally in this light, and her body looks like Candyland.
I'm too far gone to think of anything to stray my cock off the boner track now. In fact, I think I'm officially tripping. "Why do you have to be so beautiful?" I find myself saying in loopy frustration, "I'm just a man, for fuck's sake, not a eunich."
"I didn't realize you had a problem; I look how I look." she purrs in protest, obviously tripping herself, "Why do *you* have to be so fucking cute? Why do we have to be related by marriage? Questions, questions."
"You think you're being funny, but I'm seriously thinking about getting out of this game." I breathe out as the room swims a bit.
"Why would you do that and leave me?" Micki breathes out, arching her back against the beanbag as she's hit with a hallucinogenic wave.
I try to get up, but I'm too high, "Lady, I can't keep continuing to try not to touch you, that's why." I answer, "I slipped up last night, but I can't hold on for much longer."
Micki flits a few fingers in front of us and I am hypnotized by stardust trails, "Yeah, last night was scary, but to tell the truth, who knows what would have happened if Jack hadn't come back?" she murmurs, and I am pulled again into the angelic beauty of her face. "The kiss was lovely." she tells me, leaning in and granting me a peck on the forehead.
I feel ambivalent; I *really* want her, but I also know that she's under the influence, "Please don't fuck with me, Micki."
"You act like you're the only one involved here." she says dreamily, "It hasn't even occurred to you that *I* want *you*, does it?" she laughs.
Mickisaywhat? "No, not really. Especially since you made it clear early on that you weren't interested."
"I was engaged then; that was like a whole life ago." She fluidly straddles my lap and I am met with an eyeful of chesty plentitude, "I swear, sometimes you can be so dense."
I sit up, enveloping her mouth with mine. Dense this. Kissing Micki on absinthe is whole experience all it's own. I'm seeing stars and rainbows and the whole shebang of triptastic wonder. She's miraculous. It's Radness with an Awesome chaser. I will my arms around her waist and they pleasantly obey, crushing her to me as our kiss grows with an urgency belying our hallucinogenic lassitude. Hey, lust comes in colors too, I suppose. She reaches between us and starts to work on my fly, surprising me with how fast this is moving, but damn, does it *ever* feel good.
"Well, color me wrong." I chuckle as she frees Ryan the Second from my fly, immediately followed by a gasp as she starts stroking me with her hand, her gorgeous face smudged with red lipstick drawn into a seductive grin.
Need to be inside her. Now.
I reach between us and move a hand onto her crotch, ripping a hole in the fishnet and shoving her panties aside, feeling simultaneous satisfaction at what she's doing to me and how incredibly wet she already is.
Micki understands what I'm doing; maybe the absinthe has produced a sort of mind meld, but she knows what I want and eases herself onto my lap. Oh, Bliss. Joyful, joyful bliss.
"Mmm, you feel amazing." she croons as she moves on my lap, our hips meeting in a steady rise and fall, establishing a nice pace and accenting it all with small kisses on each other's faces and necks.
She ain't kidding. I think I've reached the eighth level. Her curls float around my face in prisms of red, orange, and gold as wave upon wave of euphoria washes over me. Micki is fucking perfect, and ohsobeautiful, and is now about to come; I can feel it. She tightens around me in a quiet gasp, and her orgasm pushes mine over the edge. I try not to yell and am reduced to whimpering like a puppy upon completion, muffling the noise into her shoulder.
The room is still somewhat breathing when I open my eyes again, and I hear faint strains of a failed version of "Love My Way" from the outer sanctum of the club, followed by a perturbed Jane's fan screaming, "Get off the Stage!"
That's right. We're in public. We just had sex, in public, for the very first time. Not how I pictured it, at *all*. Very trippy.
Micki looks at me and giggles, still straddling my lap, "Ryan, you have lipstick *all over* your face."
"So do you." I shoot back, giving her one more kiss before she moves to get off me, "You're magnificent, by the way."
"So are you." she counters, pulling the skirt of her dress back down over her hips in front of me, "I think I need to find a bathroom and freshen up, before things start to get messy."
I nod in agreement, "Yeah, I could stand to not look like I obviously just had sex with you, maybe wash the blaringly bright red lipstick off my face; you know." I joke, stuffing myself back in my pants.
"Funny, I don't feel as high anymore." Micki says as we try to nonchalantly exit our alcove sex den, "I mean, I'm still *high*, but I can function more now."
"Yeah, I feel that, too."
Luckily, the bathrooms are pretty close to where we just were, so we only get a few weird looks on our way there by random darksiders.
Whatever. I just got laid by the hottest woman here. I *care*, stare all you want.
We part ways, I head in the bathroom and make it to the mirror. Micki wasn't kidding, it's All Over, alright. I snag a few paper towels, wet them, and do my best to wipe the lipstick off. After I feel like I've done a decent job, I leave and wait outside the Ladies' room for Micki to emerge.
Gorgeous, fabulous, sexcapade Micki. No other woman alive compares to her sheer wonderful. I'm hooked. Sign of the Net.
She finally comes out, looking put together again but still glowing like sex, "Jane's Addiction is going on in ten minutes, should we scan the room for this Malpheus?" she asks me, linking her hand in mine and pulling it up to kiss my knuckle.
"Lets; maybe we could find Spicoli and Summer too, while we're at it."
President Gas finishes their set to kids in black throwing empty beer bottles onstage, "We want Jane's! We want Jane's!"
"Wow, this crowd's pretty restless." Micki says to me as we make our way back to the alcove Spicoli and Summer were hanging out in.
It's not really a big surprise that they're still there, passing another joint to each other in the beanbag chair, Summer's legs slung across Spicoli's lap. "Hey, Gorgeous and The Man!" Summer greets us, "Back from the be-yond."
"You could say that." I try to surpress a smile.
"Oh, busted!" Spicoli exclaims, high-fiving Summer, "Fucking on absinthe is awesome, is it not?"
Micki and I look at each other and try not to laugh our asses off, opting for a subtle snickering instead.
"What's the subdued shit for? *We* know you did it, and *you* know you did it, so what's the big D?" Summer chides us.
We shrug, "General Shyness, I suppose." I answer.
"Well, General Shyness just got fucked by Colonel Obvious, and that's a fact, jack." Spicoli chuckles, offering the joint in our direction, "Hit?"
Micki waves it away, "Not right now, we still have to find Malpheus, and the show's about to start."
"Good call. Man, am I ever glad, too. I thought the Dark Lords were about to riot." Summer laughs.
They follow us back to the main floor as the lights start to dim, and Micki and I continue to scan the crowd for signs of the wine bottle.
Jeez, they all look alike to me. We've seen at least a handful of silver mesh clad bottles attached to kids wearing black, but none of them have symbols or markings on the cap.
The crowd goes crazy with applause as the band appears onstage and launches into "Ocean Size".
"Hey, isn't that your boy Malpheus over there?" Spicoli asks, pointing to the same guy with dreadlocks and cape that we saw in the paper.
"Yeah!" Micki exclaims, "There he is!"
Sure enough, he's carrying the wine bottle with him and making his way toward a pretty icy blonde 'vampire-chick'. We should probably get to him before he gets to her, "Hey, we'll meet up with you guys front and center, okay?" I tell Spicoli.
He gives me a hang-ten and we lose them in the crowd, keeping a close watch on Malpheus, who's loping slowly toward his girl of choice and smoking a clove cigarrette.
"I have an idea." Micki tells me, "I need you to circle around him and snatch the bottle away from behind while I distract him."
I nod, it's a decent game plan, and we've done worse. Besides, I don't know about her, but I'm still slightly tripping.
I creep up behind him when Micki suddenly steps in his path, "Hey Morton!" she exclaims loudly and I ambush him, successfully grabbing the bottle. We start to run away when he grasps the bottle by the cap's end. Great, now we're involved in a tug of war. This never ends up good.
I was right. Malpheus pries the cap off by accident and is doused with the red wine, which has a horrible, sulphuric acid effect on his skin. He begins to scream and foam at the mouth, his body convulsing and croppy-flopping to the floor as a confused crowd of darksiders part to give him room. Then, without warning, he explodes and dissapates to nothing, leaving the cap on the floor as the only souvenier that he was ever there.
The crowd around us erupts in applause, "This is the best show, EVER!" we hear someone exclaim.
Micki retrieves the cap and I reunite it with the wine bottle. Mission Accomplished.

*************************************************************************

The two of us arrive home after the concert, wine bottle in hand, to find Jack waiting up for us at the desk downstairs. He looks up from an ancient tome and smiles, "Good work, you two. Any casualties tonight?"
"Just Morton 'Malpheus' Hughes. I'm thinking that we got to him before he could use the kill side of the curse on a victim. Long story short, we accidentally spilled the wine on him and he exploded." I explain as I detach my dog collar from around my neck.
Jack stands from his chair, "I'll take that down to the vault; it's time I retired for the night, seeing as the both of you made it home in one piece."
I suppose you could say that. The absinthe wore off around an hour ago, but I am still filled with light-headed disbelief over what transpired tonight.
Micki passes the wine bottle to Jack, he tells us goodnight and makes his way downstairs.
What do you know? Alone again, jiggety-jig. I look over at Micki, "Damn, I need a shower." I tell her as we lope our way upstairs to the 'Goods Lair'.
"Sounds like a good idea." she agrees, "We reek of cloves, sex, and club sweat, to be sure."
Is she offering to shower *with* me? I'm perplexed. Micki follows me to the bathroom and begins undressing, my confusion abated. She *is* going to take a shower with me. How do you say gnarly in Swahili?
I sit on the lid of the toilet, unlacing my boots and watch her slide a set of extremely mangled fishnets down and off her legs. I'm a blessed man and that's no lie. I manage off the boots and toss them into the kitchenette area before she closes the door behind her.
"Could you help me with this again?" Micki asks me as she turns around, indicating the double-tied corset on the back of her dress.
"I dunno, can I?" I tease her, untying the ribbon for her and loosening her cage. I glory in the expanse of her naked back while she shifts the dress down and off her body, cutely kicking it to the side with her toes.
I'm a tad dumbfounded right now, and don't know how to proceed. I'm just so used to not being able to touch her, now that she's mostly naked save a pair of abbreviated black panties in front of me, I find I can do nothing but stand and stare. Boy howdy, her ass is priceless. I could bounce dimes off that thing. Micki faces me again and I am floored. I thought I knew, but I had *no idea*. She's fuckin' flawless.
"Are you waiting for an open invitation?" she chides me, tugging at my shirt as I can do nothing but gaze at her, hypnotized by the greatest set of breasts in the known world, "You're a bit overdressed, don't ya think?"
I nod in agreement and attempt to wipe away the drool, "Can I just say that you are a gift from Baby Jesus?"
My limbs have regained working ability and I quickly pull my shirt off. I know I'm smiling like a complete idiot, but I really don't give a flying fuck. Micki laughs at me and assists me in ridding me of my pants, and I finally make a move to kiss her, grasping her arm and pulling her up as my pants fall to my ankles. Oh my Magic. I don't think we're making it to the shower right away. Once I've started kissing her, it's hard to stop. I manage to back her against the bathroom counter, my hands magnetized on her luscious behind as our mouths happily explore each other, cock at full mast and pressed against her belly. She's all-encompassing softness, and I just want to kiss her everywhere, so I do, allowing my mouth to begin a thorough but hurried expedition around her body as my hands follow suit. Her hands are doing some exploring of their own in the way of light scratching down my spine, but she's limited and ends up twining them in my hair as she gives up because I've moved down too far and started kissing my way up her inner right thigh. My mouth reaches black panties with scent of heaven and I smile against the fabric that encases her ladybits as she finally lets out a sound: the loveliest little gasp you'll ever hear.
"Ryan, if you're not inside me by the count of three, there'll be hell to pay." she commands in an urgent whisper.
Yes Ma'am. I take the narrowest part of her panties on her left hip and tear it completely apart, thereby freeing her of any remaining clothing and am granted with another gasp I barely hear because I'm lifting her ass onto the counter and shoving myself inside.
Awesomeawesomeawesome.
"Good boy, I didn't even have to start counting." she moans lowly, bracing her hands behind her to provide extra teamwork in our pleasure efforts.
"I'll do whatever you want me to." Thrust. "You haven't figured.." Thrust. "..that out yet?"
Micki shakes her head, but again, I'm barely paying attention because she feels *so fucking good* and I can't see straight. It feels almost like the absinthe's kicked back in, but better.
Nope, it's just her. Magnanamous, illustrious her.
A few minutes into it, I feel now our pace is good enough to grip her hip one handed and take the opportunity to grasp firmly onto a breast. Softness; Softness wonderland, that's her definition. Our mouths lunge for one another again and I am surprised when she sucks my tongue a little into her mouth as her body trembles all around me.
Coming already? Delicious.
I take this as my cue to pick up the rhythm a notch and start pounding more forcefully, her legs wrapping around my waist and her arms reaching from behind her to circle my neck as we continue kissing. Oh, shit, is she coming *again*? Did she ever stop? All I feel is her quaking around my cock and being surrounded by white-hot heat.
That's it for me; I am *there*, and it is powerful goodness multiplied with the meaning of life, and divided by the level of divine.
Understanding that I need to be quiet not to be disturbed by Jack, I quell my noise to the smallest groan I can muster against her mouth, breaking our kiss, and resting my head on her shoulder as we ride this out to completion.
Glory hallelujah, and the Answer is Forty-two.