All characters are over twenty-one.
*****
Rachel folded herself into her favorite corner of her overstuffed couch, in her cozy apartment. She had a new book in one hand and a hefty glass of wine in the other. She wasted no time at all and eagerly delved in.
Several minutes later Rachel had to put down her book and fan her face with her hand. "Wow. Now
that
was a sex scene... I need more wine." She took her empty glass to the kitchen for a refill. Upon return, Rachel plopped back down in her reading spot and plucked her book from the coffee table and returned her attention to titillating words on the pages.
The world disappeared. Rachel became the sensuous goddess losing herself to the pleasure the handsome knight's talented tongue. As she read, Rachel snaked her free hand under the loose waistband of her pink, cotton pajama pants to her aching clit. She slid her fingers around the engorged bud, mimicking the rhythm and pressure of the gifted knight from the story.
Rachel bucked her hips against her fingers, as she felt the tension drawing her muscles tight as bow strings. Wave after wave of ecstasy rushed over her skin to her dripping pussy. Release was just within her grasp, but the lust inside her would not be satisfied with fiction and fingers. Tonight Rachel needed a hard male body with an even harder cock.
"Uugh, for goodness sakes..." Rachel carelessly tossed her book onto the coffee table and threw her head back against the thick armrest. "This is ridiculous. I need to get laid, by a real guy." She expelled a deep sigh and stared at the ceiling. "Screw it, I'm going out!"
Rachel oozed sex appeal in her grey halter dress and naughty red bottom heels. She had found herself at the most notorious night club in the city,
The Turn
. The club was steeped in scandalous myths and legends. The very name was the magic of any great illusion. It was rumored one could simply manifest their deepest desires. Rachel was skeptical,
probably just good timing and great lighting.
She would later learn those rumors, and more, to be very true.
Rachel walked nervously up to the huge double, mahogany doors with hand carved scrollwork swirled along the top and cascaded down the sides. They looked like they belonged in an art gallery with the witty title,
Door to the Other Side.
She was about to caress the deep wood in admiration, when they parted for her like the Red Sea.
No one checked I.D. There was no line or velvet ropes as one would expect. The doors either opened or they didn't. If they didn't, it simply meant one did not need what lay beyond. Rachel heard the giant doors close softly behind her, and stepped tenuously into the lounge. The lights were turned down to a gentle caress, bathing the whole place in a warm luxurious glow. She could feel the beat of the music pulsing on the other side of the wall. The space was nice and quaint with clean lines and neutral tones throughout. It wasn't a large room but the bar ran the length of it. A few low sitting, cream colored, leather ottomans dotted the cozy space. It was not what Rachel expected to find in the legendary
Turn
, but found it oddly soothing and strangely seductive.
The area was meant to be a taste to wet one's appetite for the main course. One was not meant to plop down at the bar and drink watered down, cheap booze until the wee hours of the morning. This was
The Turn
, not
Joe's Bar and Grill
.
The bar tender, a petite brunette with a pixie quality to her greeted Rachel with a warm knowing smile, "First time?"
"Yeah, can you tell?"
"Virgins' first drink are always on the house. It helps with the nerves."
Well, if its on the house I'm getting the expensive stuff.
"Ok, I'll have a Bombay and tonic Please."
"Honey, dressed like that, and the fact you were able to walk through those doors, says you are looking for something with a little more bite. How bout I whip you up something wickedly strong, and sinfully delicious?"
Rachel smiled and nodded in agreement. Rachel watched her twirl, shake, toss, pour and perform incredible feats with numerous bottles. The woman pushed a martini glass filled with an emerald green liquid fading seamlessly to sunset gold, garnished with a royal purple spiral of delicate sugar.
"Be careful with that, one to look, two to partake, and three to forget" she winked at Rachel and made her way to the other end of the bar.
"Three to forget, damn this must be one hell of a drink." Rachel took a sip, and was shocked to find it exploding like PopRocks candy on her tongue and just as sweet.
Ooh, this is fun.
Each patron who came through the grand doors perceived
The Turn
differently. It showed the person what they needed to see to feel comfortable, welcome and most importantly sexy. As their mood and desires changed so did the ambiance. No one ever directly noticed the changes.
Rachel was no different. The neutral tones started to deepen, became rich chocolates and warm caramels. The clean lines began to soften to sensuous curves. The airy bamboo floor darkened to a rich cherry.
Rachel continued to nurse her potent cocktail, each sip melting the nervousness and shyness away. She felt like she was ready to take on the world. Rachel gently placed her drink on the granite bar top, tussled her thick hair, smoothed out the imaginary wrinkles of her dress, took a deep settling breath, grabbed her glass and sauntered to the partition.
The music was deep, full of bass with a rhythm made for sex. The floor was midnight with constellations, seeming to haven fallen straight out of the heavens scattered across it. It was like dancing in the stars. It smelled of dark, decadent chocolate and light, fruity champagne. The lights moved in time with the sultry music casting teasing shadows, revealing and cloaking the club's naughty secrets.
Rachel was on sensory overload and enjoyed every second of it.
She took one large swig of her drink, which should have drained the glass but didn't reduce it a drop, and finally made up her mind.
Ok, Rachel you're not here to idly stand around and watch, you're here to get laid. Now let's go find someone to fuck.
At that moment, the moment she decided to 'partake' as the bar tender had said, her drink changed from emerald to ruby and the club came alive.
The stardust floor glided effortlessly into new abstract shapes and patterns, the music grew louder and more urgent. The notes of the guitar turned to a throaty snarl, thrumming their way into her soul. The rhythm was made for passion and no longer for foreplay. It was like a living thing, drawing out the hungry, sexual beast within her. The lights illuminated intimate niches along the outer walls veiled with gossamer. Some were more opaque than others.
An aerialist drew Rachel's attention to the ceiling. The artist was clad in black lace panties, stilettos, and nothing else. She moved with the grace and ease of a jaguar. She performed gravity defying twirls, dips, and flips with nothing more than a mile long piece of blood red satin. She manipulated the flowing ribbon as if it were a solid dancer's pole.
The aerialist raced the length of the wide strip, headlong to the dazzling floor. Rachel gasped into her finger tips. As if by magic, the lithe acrobat abruptly halted her decent, centimeters from her demise, platinum tresses skimming the earth. She had the nerve to wink at Rachel before coiling herself back up to the ceiling where she continued her dance.
Dear Jesus, that was awesome!
Rachel gazed at the mesmerizing show, when she felt a warm breath and soft lips, brush the side of her neck. A husky voice rumbled in her ear, "Hello, gorgeous." A rush of pleasurable tingles danced over her skin. Her clit surged with excitement and her knees almost buckled, from his voice alone.
Rachel was caught off guard to find the very definition of tall, dark and handsome mere inches from her. The standard biker uniform only accentuated his very masculine frame. He was every bit the victorious Roman gladiator as he was the dangerous biker. Power and sex, radiated from him as if it were part of his DNA. "Oh, hi. I'm, um... I'm Rachel."
"Kirin." A cocky little grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. He watched the red hot desire mixed with just a touch of fear, dance across her beautiful jade eyes. Kirin knew exactly what reaction he caused in women, and loved every minute of it.
Rachel took a fortifying swallow of her drink, which now tasted like honey and fire. Its magic swirled across her brain making her uncharacteristically bold and brazen. It was imperative to her very being she touch him. Her drink vanished from her hand.
She reached out, put her palm on his chest. It was meant to be just a reality check kind of touch, but her hands had a mind of their own. They slid up under his jacket and along every hard muscle of his body.
Kirin's jeans tighten around his growing erection. Images of exactly where he wanted those hands flashed across his mind: her wrists pinned in his iron grip above her head making her breast perfect round globes, how small her hand looked wrapped around his thick shaft, her nails raking down his back as she screamed his name...
"Like what you feel?"
Plucked out of the potion induced haze by his devious quip, Rachel quickly dropped her hands as if she had just touched a searing pan, "Oh God! I'm so sorry to feel you up like that. I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to make sure you were real and when you were, well, I... I didn't want to stop."
Kirin closed the space between them with half a step. With heat in his Caribbean eyes, he grabbed her hand and placed it on the hard bulge in his jeans. "Don't apologize, I didn't mind" Rachel's insides turned to molten lava.
She was helplessly wet and dizzy with lust. His intoxicating cologne and his very maleness clouded her brain making her want to lick, suck, bite and taste every inch of him.
"In that case" Rachel smiled suggestively up at him and traced her fingers over the hard outline.
