The first time he met her it was at a club called the Paradise. It wasn't the type of place he normally hung out, but then, he wasn't looking for his normal type of affair. The Paradise was a techno/industrial dance club where 110 decibel bass lines pulsated up to the sidewalk on the street. It was patronized by a crowd with a fondness for black, metal body adornments and high octane refreshments. To say that Adam felt out of his element would have been a hilarious understatement. He may as well have been stark naked for as conspicuous as he felt in his newly purchased faux biker jacket. He knew he just didn't have the attitude to carry it off, and he knew that everyone else in the club knew it too. But then that presumed that they gave a fuck, which was pretty unlikely.
After orienting himself in the rapid fire strobe lighting and the body pounding music, he made his way past the nearest dance floor where bodies shook and gyrated and jostled each other like so many machined parts being run through a mechanical sorter. Adam pressed his way to one of the bars and, after several futile tries, finally flagged down the bartender. He yelled above the din for a Stoli with a twist. She nodded acknowledgment, tapped a few times on the touch screen, and delivered a perfectly measured shot of vodka in a glass so chilled the evaporating sweat and breath of the crowd collected on the outside.
He turned, took a sip of the icy liquid and let it burn down his throat into his chest. He had never really acquired a taste for this stuff, but it was the only thing he could think of that seemed appropriate. He took another sip. That's when he noticed her. Or rather, he noticed it. It was the silver ring that adorned the north rim of her navel, above the waist of her black jeans and below the black, lacy cut-off tank top she wore under the leather jacket. It flashed in the blue-hot halogen lighting overhead as she stood next to him at the bar. Adam was intrigued by the current piercing craze and navel rings held a particular fascination for him. After fixating on it for a moment he let his gaze wander up to see who was wearing it. When he reached her face she was staring back at him through her Ray Bans with a look that sneered, "My, aren't you amusing."
"Sorry. I was just admiring your navel ring."
She seemed to accept that and broke a near-smile. She offered to clink glasses in a toast that said, "No offense taken, dweeb." She slammed her drink back and set the glass down, signaling for another.
"What are you drinking?" he tried to ask above noise.
"Calvados."
Calvados. Brandy made from apples in Normandy. They clinked glasses again and she slammed the second one back while Adam took a bigger gulp than he normally would. It burned all the way into his gut. He thought for a moment that the glasses as they touched must be something like what it would feel like to bite down on that silver ring.
She nodded toward the dance floor and, taking him by his condensation-slick fingers, pulled him away from the bar. They entered the sea of bodies and began to find the pace of the music. She cleared a space for them as she bumped and moved in time to the electronic bass line. He orbited awkwardly around her. Soon the crowd moved back into the vacuum and closed up the space. He was pressed up against her. He could feel the heat rise off her skin into his nostrils. She turned her back to him and kept moving to the frenetic beat. The rounded curve of her ass swayed back and forth across the front of his jeans. But she seemed oblivious, or at least indifferent, to the reaction this was causing in his groin. They continued to bump and grind and sway for another 30 minutes. Finally, dripping with sweat, Adam beckoned her back to the bar. She ordered two calvados, one for him. They clinked glasses. Yes, that must be something like biting down on her navel ring, he thought to himself. She tossed her head back and drained the glass, Adam following her lead a moment later.
"Shall we go?"
It was more a statement than a question. He followed her out of the Paradise and up the stairs on to the street. It was a short, silent walk to a nearby warehouse building. She let them in through a heavy steel door and closed the gate behind them on the freight elevator that creaked and groaned as it slowly rose to the second floor.
Once inside she turned and kissed him fully on the mouth. Her breath was hot and tingly like the apple brandy. She lifted his hands to her breasts inside the leather jacket. Through the lacy tank top he ran his thumbs over her nipples. That's when he felt them. The nipple rings. Instantly his crotch jumped. This was unfamiliar territory to him, and he found it tremendously exciting. She continued to press her mouth on his, to push her tongue into his. He slid his hands under the tank top. He caressed the soft curves and then he found the rings with his thumbs. He felt where they entered and exited the sides of her erect nipples. He ran his index finger around the circumferences. The tip of his finger would just fit into the ring. The unyielding hardness of the metal contrasted with the softness of her flesh. His expanding penis strained at the front of his jeans.
He peeled her jacket back off her shoulders and down her arms. Kissing hungrily at her neck, he lifted her tank top to her throat. He pulled back to admire her adornments before lowering his mouth to one of her breasts. The steel ring felt odd on his tongue. He flicked it up and down with his tongue, tickling the tip of her nipple. He wondered if that caused her any pain. If it did, she seemed to enjoy that as she pulled him off and pushed his face over on to her other breast. He took the ring in his mouth and gently bit down on it with his teeth. He could hear/feel the metal as he grasped it in his incisors. It felt like two glasses coming together. He gently tugged on the ring. She moaned in encouragement.
After a few minutes of amusing himself with the novelty of her breast jewelry, Adam lay a line of kisses down her belly, stopping to play with the navel ring that had first caught his attention, before continuing down to her waistline. He unzipped her jeans and pulled them over her hips and down her calves. On his knees in front of her he began to tug at her black panties. Then he stopped. Peeking out from openings of her underwear was a hint of tattoo. On either side he saw bits of foliage seeming to grow out and down her inner thighs. He pulled the panties down and away.
She was completely shorn of hair. Her mons was as smooth as her belly. A bouquet of leaves and tiny white flowers blossomed where her pubic hair had grown. And at the delta where her legs came together, right where the slit of her sex ended, was one perfect blossom. Staring at it in fascination, he recognized it as a depiction of an apple blossom. And at the very center of it, where the stamen would be, the bud of her clit poked out. He bent forward to taste her with his tongue. He dabbed at her center. A sharp inhalation came from her.
He laid her back on the floor and parted her knees. He reveled in the artistry someone had performed on her skin, in her most private parts. All around her lips and starting down her thighs were the greens and whites and pinks of this tattooed floriculture. Adam had never seen anything like this. He knelt to swab her with his tongue again. The smoothness of her skin under his nose was strange, yet inviting. Like a bee gathering pollen, he stuck his tongue out as far as he could, lapping the center of the blossom again and again. She began to move her hips up and back, pushing herself against his tongue. She groaned her approval.
"Yes!" she hissed as he circled her clit with his tongue.
