Forbidden Fruit 8

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.

He pulled back to admire the ink work again. The resemblance of a woman to a flower finally dawned on him. Indeed, as he gazed upon the flower of her sex, uncovered and unashamed, he thought it the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He carefully pulled back the petals of her orchid and pushed his tongue into her depths. He reached up and tickled her navel ring and then stretched to grasp the ring on one of her breasts. Her nipple was almost as hard as the steel piercing it. She placed her hand over his, encouraging him to squeeze and pinch her nipple and to tug on the ring which fired off shock waves of sensation through her body. She bucked and twisted against his mouth. When he returned his tongue to center of the blossom, tickling her clit, she spasmed in climax, her stomach muscles contracting and expanding uncontrollably, as the floodgates opened and the orgasm washed over her.

She lay limp, wrung out. He watched her breasts rise and fall as her breath began to regulate itself again. Then Adam became acutely aware of his own needs. While she continued to catch her breath, he stripped off his jeans. Rising over her, he pointed his erection at her opening. She took his cock in her hands as if to guide him into her, but then she stopped. He was confused as she began to stroke him. Her fingers wrapped around his shaft and he could feel his passion rising quickly as she wiggled out from under him. He was still unsure of her agenda. She moved behind him where she could reach around and continue to stroke him. She began to jerk him off faster and faster. He didn't want to come like this, but it was too late. Before he could stop her, thick white syrupy ropes erupted from the end of his cock, spilling out over her hand and on to the floor. She continued to stroke him until the pulsating subsided and he began to soften in her hand.

"You'll have to go now," she whispered in his ear as she began to get up.

"But, wait," he stammered, bewildered.

"Now," she demanded and got up and went to the bathroom. Still in a daze he gathered up his jeans, put himself together and let himself out.

For days afterwards he continued to replay the events of that night in his mind. On the bus he imagined the exquisite details of the tattoo on her hairless cunt. What must it have felt like as the artist's needle penetrated her most delicate skin? Did adrenaline rush into her blood as he (or was it a she?) tinctured her cleft. In the elevator he would remember the feel of her nipple ring in his teeth, the taste of the stainless steel. Reading but not reading the paper he would recall how she cried out in pleasure when he played his tongue across her clit. But then he would remember how she had escaped him. How she had quickly milked him until he was drained but unsatisfied. How she had left him spent and soft but still wanting.

It was several weeks before it occurred to him, before all the pieces fell into place. And it was several more before he worked up the courage. But once he'd determined what to do there was no going back. Then, one night he ventured back into the Paradise. He ordered up a calvados, drank it, and ordered up another. The brandy ignited in his chest. He began to scan the crowd for her. When he found her she didn't see him. Adam walked up behind her and gently took her wrist. She turned in an instant with a "what the fuck" look on her face followed by an "oh, it's you again" when she finally recognized him.

"I've got something to show you," he said pulling her behind him.

She resisted but he had a firm hold on her.

"Trust me. I think you've been looking for this."

Intrigued, she relented and followed Adam to the exit. He led her toward her own loft.

"What? What is it you needed to show me," she pleaded. But he refused to answer.

Inside the elevator he pushed her against the wall as the motor protested and lifted the load. He put his mouth on hers, opening it wide and invading hers with his tongue. He squeezed her tits under her shirt and felt the rings in her nipples. They jutted out and he wondered if she weren't in a constant state of arousal.

Upstairs he invited her to sit on the end of the couch where he clicked on the floor lamp. Standing in front of her he unbuttoned his jeans, peeled down his briefs and stepped out of his clothes. There it was, coiled around his right thigh, a beautiful emerald boa constrictor. It wrapped four times around his upper leg before dipping over his hip bone and across his abdomen. The last six inches of the snake's neck and head began to rise in front of her. The skin was smooth and naked, like a reptile's scales, and had an iridescence almost like a peacock's feathers. From the tip of his cock a two tined tongue was painted down the underside of his head. The "snake" mesmerized her with its exquisite beauty. As she imagined him fully erect under a tattoo artist's hands, receiving the dye, a rush came over her. She leaned forward and took the head of the boa in her mouth. Then she slowly swallowed down to where his pubic hair used to be. She licked up and down as her fingers explored the details of his stain.

She stood up, shedding her own clothes. He reached in between her legs as their lips met. She was slick with arousal. The very idea had excited her beyond anything she had experienced before. Hooking one hand under her knee, he pulled her leg up and open. This time she guided him straight into her. They made love in a primal, primitive way, like the first man and woman. His cock slid in and out, past the center of her white blossom. She watched the green body invade her and withdraw. They felt the sensations rising in each of them, rising together. He grasped the fleshy mounds of her behind and pulled her deep on to him. Her knees buckled as they were overtaken by the climax and they slumped to the couch. Finally, he had the knowledge of her he had been hungry for. The taste was sweet. Ah, Eden.

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