The unforgiving heat of the late afternoon sun beat hard through the grimy paper shades which half-covered the smudged and cracked windows of the Sex Saloon 'The Coyote's Kiss', casting long, hazy shadows through the smoky interior. The saloon reeked of the metallic tang of cheap whiskey, the acidic odour of vinegar, and the sweet and sour mix of old sweat and wet, fresh lust. The far wall of the saloon from the swing doors was taken up fully by a heaving bar, stocked heavily with all the cheapest liquors available this side of the Whispering Eye. The bartender, a tough-as-nails young woman in a bodice made out of straps of assorted old leather which covered just about none of her slim body and large perky tits, her once-cute face turned hard and steely-eyed by a life in Tierra Muerta, sloshed shots to the rowdy crowd like a seasoned pro. The Saloon pulsed with the raw, booming beats of two naked, sweating young male drummers on either side of a raised stage to the left of the bar, each beating a large rusted drum made out of an old industrial barrel and tightened animal hide; their taut, muscular bodies pouring perspiration, thick slick cocks dripping and swaying as their relentless pounding rhythms soundtracked the true meat of the show onstage.
Between the drummers, three men and two women, their slick, nude forms on full display, performed an unrestrained sex show for the hollering audience; two of the men squatted either end of one buxom blonde on all fours, one fucking her tight behind, the wet slap of his abdomen against her large plump ass drowned out by the drums; the other jamming his cock repeatedly in and out of her willing throat; her mouth open wide, tongue lapping at the man's smooth balls with each gagging stroke, drool dripping onto the stage. To the side of this trio, the other two performers were engaged in an athletic standing 69. The woman, a tall and muscled bronze-skinned woman with a shaved head, held the man's thighs around her head as she deep-throated his cock, his dangling form gripping her legs as he hungrily devoured her shaved pussy.
Bodies entwined and the air buzzed with a primal carnal energy which sent shivers through Vanity's cunt as she pushed her way through the crowd of hot, sweating bodies watching the show; bodies pressing hard against her, hands brushing her ass, the feel of soft tits and hard nipples pushing against her back; even the occasional hard pecker, loosed from the britches of a masturbating spectator, rubbing slickly against her thigh as she pulled Raven to a shaded booth in the corner. Sweat dripped from bodies as they pushed through the crowded, noisy saloon, and the intoxicating scent of sex permeated the air as thick and overbearing as the drums.
Raven's shining brown eyes were wide as they settled into the cracked leather and wood booth, Raven with her back to the sex show on stage, Vanity facing it. Raven's eyes darted around the room at the spectacle of men and women pressed together hard against the stage, hollering and hooting at the live sex show, tossing Thalers and undergarments onto the stage. 'Could've picked a quieter place for this encounter', Vanity thought to herself, smirking; but the energy and atmosphere of the rowdy Sex Saloon filled her with a newfound, almost narcotic bliss and a vivid, palpable energy.P She could've picked some old timer's bar at random, with the stink of farts and bad beer, but she'd come straight to this rowdy, untamed sex show and her whole body tingled. Every part of her felt like the taut, erect tip of her nipples, every move and slight motion sent orgasmic thrills to her core. It was intoxicating.
Every town in Humankind's frontier in Tierra Muerta had places like this, from the most backwater burgh to Blackwood Creek; some noisier and rowdier than others, but all places where folks could let loose and embrace their carnality to some degree or other. Humanity's unwelcome existence in Tierra Muerta, their last gasp at survival after the generations-past magickal cataclysm Back East which saw the survivors flee west, was a constant struggle against the primal and supernatural forces of Tierra Muerta which wanted to dominate or extinguish them; a daily battle to simply keep going in the face of desperation and horror. Sex Saloons, like the Coyote's Kiss or the Dirty Pickle, were Humanity's release valve; without these havens of unrestrained hedonism to release the pressure, Humanity would crumble. That was why, even in towns with rigid laws, and settlements where the comparatively puritanical Church of Divine Radiance held sway, Sex Saloons were allowed to flourish. The Church actively encouraged them; man must breed and prosper to survive, and Sex Saloons lifted the libido of the flock that they might be fruitful. The Church of Mother Night took a somewhat different albeit equally supportive viewpoint; Sex Saloon's were a necessity for humanity to feed their basest desires, the fulfilment of self pleasure which brought them closer to the divine darkness of the night; the church of Pan, Vanity mused, just liked to fuck. The stringent law bearers allowed Sex Saloons and the proliferation of brothels because it lowered the crime rate in any settlement; pleasure and fulfilment led to fewer violent crimes. Or maybe, Vanity thought with a chuckle, they just relied on the populace being too tired out from fucking to have a knife fight in the street over a gambling debt.
That was one of the main reasons why in Tierra Muerta, so much emphasis was placed on sexual pleasure. An orgasm was a luxury even the poorest shitkicker could afford; a luxury that stopped humanity from going mad in this place. In theory, at least. Vanity had other theories, though. Perhaps humanity's newfound proximity to Extasis, the realm of the Concubi, heightened their collective libido; or maybe it just had something to do with the unmistakable fact that the veil between the mundane world and the heavens and hells was thinner, more fragile here. Any of it could contribute to humanity's carnal appetite in the Frontier.
She had read ancient history books in her fathers library growing up; nothing about Back East hinted at Humankind's erotic decadence being a facet of life the way it was here; Back East, long before the Cataclysm, humanity knew of the horrors which existed in the world, but humanity had mastery over magick, technology, military might and most importantly, strength in numbers. As a result, Vanitys forebears didn't suffer at the hands of supernatural opposition in any way near the capacity they had to here. It sounded safe. Mundane. Boring. Gods, she thought, as her pussy throbbed, raw heat between her legs, unquenched; maybe the trade-off was worth it.
Vanity noticed Raven's nipples swell, visible through the sheer material of her shift dress, and the sight of it sent Vanity's already cascading libido into overdrive. Vanity slipped her hand from Raven's soft grip and hid it under the table, her legs spread there, and started rubbing her clit in slow, wet circles with her fingertips. She bit her lip and tried to stop her eyes rolling back in her head as she felt her wetness.
Raven turned her large, beautiful eyes back to Vanity.
"Are you ok?"
Vanity licked her lips.
"Uh-huh. I'm good. I'm so fucking good. What 'bout you? You look a little..." an involuntary moan escaped her lips as her fingers slid inside herself... "Ungh, you look a little outta place. First time in a... joint like this?" Vanity hoped the raucous sounds of the saloon crowd and the beating of the drums would drown out the slick wet squelching sounds of her middle and ring fingers sliding into her pussy.
"Mmmhmm" Raven nodded, her large, shining eyes fixed on Vanity.
"This is my kinda joint," Vanity sighed, a smile creeping across her lips, wet and swollen with desire as she stared into Raven's eyes. "Fact of the matter is, Miss Darcie, I hadn't intended to bring you to a place like this; though I had intended to come somewhere like here and have my brains fucked out until I passed out, right before I met you. But you caught my curiosity with this dream business..." Vanity exhaled and slid her fingers from her pussy, lifting her hand to her face and inhaling her own scent, licking the shimmering wetness from her fingers. Raven's words caught Vanity off guard.
"May I?"
Raven's beautiful eyes, shining with need, were locked on Vanitys hand. Vanity smiled with a little uncertainty, and extended her hand, palm upwards, to Raven. Raven took her hand gently, and breathed in the heady aroma of Vanity's pussy. Eyes locked on Vanity's, Raven softly licked Vanity's fingers, a long, slow, sensuous caress with a soft pink tongue; Raven's eyes closed in appreciation as she swallowed hard, kissed Vanity's palm, and released her hand. "You taste... just like in my dreams".
Vanity gasped involuntarily as she felt the warm swelling of orgasm growing in the pit of her stomach at Ravens touch.
"Your dream. Tell me more."
