The Underground was a nightclub, situated in the bowels of the city, that catered to all the alternative subcultures- the punks, the goths, the rivetheads. Every mainstream castoff. Known for loud, stomping music and nothing in the way of a dress code, it's patrons crawled from every hole and seedy corner of the city.
Lynn looked out over the dancefloor, which was already keeping a couple dozen people occupied. Thick, heavy beats mingled with cigarette smoke, choking the atmosphere as lights pulsed on exposed skin.
Weaving through the maze of bodies, Lynn staked her usual territory near the center of the floor. Exertion and sweat had already formed an encompassing vapor of humidity. She hadn't been dancing for two minutes when a man appeared next to her. She recognized him as a regular, a long-haired goth type that took his cues from an Anne Rice bible. Too pretty, not her type, not by a mile.
"Hello, beautiful." he purred against her ear.
"Not interested." She spun around, dancing with her back to him.
"I'm only asking to dance with the most alluring woman here." he said, insinuating himself in front of her again.
Lynn couldn't stop herself from laughing. She wondered how much time he spent in front of the mirror perfecting an air that was undoubtedly meant to be hypnotic.
"I don't think my boyfriend would like that."
"I don't see anyone with you now. Who is he?"
"He's Jack."
The vamp moved a few paces away, which she had been counting on. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."
With that, he was gone. The two things that commanded respect there were boots designed to stomp, and Jack. Lynn didn't like tossing his name around, because it was more of a hindrance than anything else. But it had it's uses. Normally, only the new arrivals approached her. Her attachment to Jack kept everyone else at arm's length. Most nights she danced by herself, or with her only good friend, Wilma. Jack never danced, just watched. Night after night she would sink herself into the crush of bared, sweaty bodies that writhed to the music, allowed only to look, not touch.
Not that Jack wasn't great, he was. Every other girl's dream. Rock solid and faithful to the end. But Lynn already felt that familiar itch. Their sex life was fantastic, and she might even have been able to carry on with him as the only man fucking her. But she needed adventure, variety, and she needed her occasional lust for women satisfied. She brought it up once and Jack listened to her, patiently, and agreed to a threesome, even though Lynn knew he was the one-woman type.
Lynn liked bad girls and big tits, but that wasn't Jack's type. So she went out of her way to pick the perfect girl, an adorable blonde with a sweet smile and firm, perky tits. Lynn and the girl made out in front of Jack, and made it as far as getting topless and very friendly. Lynn urged him to touch her, but his mood remained somewhere between discomfort and anger, so she sent the girl on her way.
The music was getting louder, and more bodies squeezed onto the floor. It was as close as one could get to an orgy without actually fucking, although many were close to it. It wasn't unusual to see people begin their foreplay right on the floor, grinding and groping, kissing and licking.
She always dressed with the expectation of overwhelming heat. Her skirt was short and vinyl, with a zipper that was more decoration that utility running it's length that, if pulled, would have had her skirt falling off her like a wet towel. A black strapless shirt clung to her tits, her hardened nipples exposed to the crowd. Sweat rolled down her skin, from her neck to the swell of her tits, and down over the demon skull tattoo that sat under her navel and spread from hip to hip, watching over one of her most prized possessions.
She watched a devastating brunette dance next to her. The girl had eyes that could fuck you from across the room, and a body that promised more. As she watched her hips sway, Lynn imagined getting her tongue in her mouth and her hands around those full tits. She turned and closed her eyes, continued dancing as the area just below her demon friend began to throb to the latest beat. She needed to get fucked, but it would be hours still before Jack would take her home. And she would never be able to convince upstanding Jack to take her to the car, or out back, and give her a good, quick pounding.
She wiped sweat from her face with the back of her hand and, as she did, noticed a man standing by the bar watching her. He was new, she would have remembered him. Tall and lean, wearing a black wife-beater that showed off his chest and arms, dark cropped hair and dark eyes. He had her attention.
He smiled at her, sending chills from her stomach down through her thighs. Before she could smile back, she felt someone tapping on her shoulder. Fearing Jack, she turned, but was faced with Wilma. Lynn had to lean down to hear the shorter girl.
"I'm leaving for a while with Sean. I'll be back."
"Okay." Lynn hadn't heard Sean's name before, and chances were that Wilma was hearing it for the first time that night, also. Just a week earlier she had been tossed out for a symbolic five minutes after the bouncer had busted her getting head from she didn't even know who in the back of the club..
Lynn turned back to the man at the bar, but he was gone. She thought it was probably for the best, as nothing could come of it save further aggravation for her. But she couldn't help feeling slightly disappointed. She continued dancing, but soon felt someone come up behind her, boldly securing an arm around her waist. She turned her head to find the man from the bar.
"I've been watching you dance." he said.
"Oh." was all she could think to say.
"I saw you looking at me"
"Oh, that, I was...I was just-"
He pulled her back against him. "Don't talk."
With his hands on her hips, he took control of her body's rhythm. The song changed, slowed, it's beats viscous. She found herself leaning back into him, his breath against her neck. His hand found it's way under her shirt, smoothing a trail across her stomach. She let her head fall back against his shoulder, felt his mouth so close to her neck. The music obscured the sound, but she felt the moan escape her. She broke his hold abruptly, turning to face him.
"We have to stop." she said. His body felt so good against hers, but she couldn't continue, not there.
"You don't want me to stop." he said, using her wrist to pull her forward, her hips against his.
"That's not what I said. My boyfriend is around her somewhere, and I-"
