Disclaimer for the entire series:
Everyone in this story - and in real life - are 18+ years of age.
All locations, art and music in this story are real.
Any celebrity actions or motives similar to their real-life counterparts is entirely coincidental.
Later chapters will be released in time.
Tags are set for each chapter, not the series as a whole.
This is my first published series, so I'm interested to hear some feedback from the Literotica community. Thanks!
Disclaimer for this chapter: just a quick non-sexual chapter to build the plot - sorry!
*****
Damosi watched himself in the mirror's reflection. His eyes were blank, a relic of a time gone by. Nearing thirty-two, the tattooed thug's best years were behind him. He spent his days dreaming of his youth, and his nights trying to relive those dreams.
With his goon companions always with him (two bleak, hateful men who he despised more times than not), Damosi spent almost every night of his wasteful life wandering the streets of Prague. He favoured the underground scene: its dark tone, the neon strip club lights, the creeps, the undesirables in life. It was a vibe he could connect with.
A few hours earlier, he'd been kicked out of line from his regular nightclub, by who else but the píči actor who plays Spiderman and his colourful group of friends. If it wasn't for Milan, the overbearing security guard (who he would undoubtedly make peace with in the coming days) kicking the three of them out, he'd have given that punk a bloody nose.
A punk that reminded Damosi of himself from a lifetime ago: honourable, full of life, with dreams.
I wanted to be a musician, he thought.
Sighing with despair, Damosi looked away from the filthy bathroom window and exited through a door plastered with old graffiti. He reappeared inside a scrappy, worn down club.
A number of tourists glanced up nervously from their drinks as he strode across the room, clearly intimidated by his threatening tats, piercings and neck chain. On another night he might've walked over, sat with a few gullible Americans or Brits, and threatened them in amusement or started a pointless fight.
But Damosi's mind was elsewhere tonight.
The blonde girl, who was she?
The short, skinny blonde in the blue dress whose honour Spidey had defended...and who on the wrong end of his 'charm'...seemed to be permanently etched in his mind. She was beautiful.
Damosi was sure she was one an anděl, an angel from his past... a past that didn't exist.
Her blue eyes were still full of innocence, full of hope, full of dreams. In a strange, ridiculous way, he wanted to keep it that way.
'Arghh...' he mumbled to himself, 'potřebuji pivo.' I need a beer.
Damosi bought himself an icy Pilsner Urquell and made his way back to his companions, each describing the things they'd do to the other dark-skinned brunette who was with the group. Damosi thought he'd recognised her, but shrugged off the thought. He didn't want them to bring up...
'...A ten blonďák, šukal bych ji, dokud nebude slunce.' ...And the blonde, I'd fuck her until the sun came up.
'Můžete si vzít slut ústa, já bych měl kočička. Damosi, chtěla jsi její zadek, že?' You can take the broad's mouth; I'll have her pussy. Damosi, you wanted her ass, right?