By the time they got to the club, it was late, he was worried he'd missed her. Having been near capacity for quite some time, the smoke hung thick in the air, making it hard for everyone to breathe. Breathing was overrated anyway...Hadn't he heard that? It was a chore to push his wheelchair through the crowd, everyone seemed oblivious of everything besides the sweat and the feel of the person their body was meshed against. The smell of different mixed perfumes nauseated him as women bent down to hug him, to kiss him as they made their way to the bar. He was sick of these whores, the same ones every time..He was sick of having to tell them to leave in the middle of the night. They were oh so easy, but he wanted someone new, a way to feel different
"And those by themselves by choice or by some reward
No mistakes only now you're bored
This is the time of your life but you just can't tell"
Maybe he had found that new style, he thought to himself. She had such a classic look, not fitting in with these people at all. Surely he would be able to spot her right away, although she usually had a way of catching him off guard... The memory of her dancing against him kept dragging him back here weekend after weekend. He wondered why she came, why she teased him that way.
She always found him drunk...too inebriated to talk with her, and tonight was no different. His shot glasses cluttered the table and he felt her fingers in his hair before he could focus his eyes. He never had to worry about not getting close enough. This was a popular club, hard to get in if you didn't know someone, and there was barely ever room to think, much less to get away.
"I heard it's cold out, but her Popsicle melts
She's in the bathroom, she pleasures herself
Says I'm a bad man, she's locking me out
It's cause of these things, it's cause of these things"
His body was betraying him much more than usual as he slouched in his wheelchair. He tried, in vain to perk up when he knew she was near. His hands clumsily made their way over her slick skin, inadvertently digging his nails into her thigh. She liked it, she whispered in his ear, and he liked the way she reacted. It made her grind closer to him, she was practically sitting in his chair with him, touching him enough to drive him crazy. "Can you feel how hard you've made me in front of all these people?" He asked her. In response she straddled his paralyzed legs, and pressed her lips against his, a first time. He could taste the martini's she must have been drinking, unless she'd been kissing someone else. The thought had a second to bother him, although he didn't know why...
"The crowd on the street walks slowly, don't mind the rain
Lovers hold hands to numb the pain,
Gripping tightly to something that they will never own"
The music got so fucking loud to him...although they were in their own world. He could feel her winding down as she rested against him... he was still trying to catch his breath. She had her hand in his lap, under her. He had to get her to stay, to leave with him...He knew that he had to know what it felt like to be inside her. He tried to let her know, but he wasn't making sense. Then she was saying she had to go. Goddammit...
"I want to see you again...not here..." She said loudly...He could feel her soft breath against his cheek as she spoke..the only way she could make him hear her over the deafening noise. She wrote her number on his wrist and told him to call. "Don't wait." Her lips on his skin again and then she stood to leave. He tried to hold her but the booze his loosened his grip and he couldn't restrain her.
He awoke the next morning with a bad hangover and a worse realization that he had her on his mind way too much. He didn't bother looking down to see the tent that his cock had formed under the sheet, but rather closed his eyes and attempted to relieve it. As he stroked he felt the cool metal of his Jacob's Ladder under his palm. Since his injury it had served little more than decoration, but before the girls he fucked would beg him to fuck them from behind. He imagined it was her hand touching him. Better yet her lips.. Their kiss was still prominent in his mind, and he thought how good her soft lips would feel as he pushed her head down on his cock.
He forced himself to finish quickly, he needed to get around. She had told him not to wait to call her...it was sunday after all...maybe she'd be willing to see him today. Luckily the number was still intact. He'd taken great pains to see that he didn't wash it, he had been too drunk to find a pen after all.
He took the cordless phone from his bedside table and dialed her number. He was suprised to see that his hand wasn't trembling, yet to his dismay his voice cracked when he had to speak. "Is Lilly at home?"
"Who wants to know?" The voice on the other end of the line was taunting, but it lacked malice. He almost thought he heard a chuckle.
He couldn't tell if it was her or not, his recollection of her voice had been so distorted by the noise last night. "Adan...from the club."
"Adan, huh...I half expected you to call last night. Everyone needs to sleep though, you know. It's good to hear from you though. How are you?"
He wondered if she was smiling, where ever she was. Was she playing with him? He seemed to get that feeling a lot.
"Well, since you asked...I'm feeling a bit under the bottle, but I think I might make it. You, on the other hand are quite perky at ten a.m. Maybe you should give me some advice?" He did hear her laugh then, and he laughed with her.
"Maybe start with not drinking everything that gets set in front of you. Your table was pretty full last night, and I was watching you long enough to know that no one was helping. The glasses donít empty themselves."
In a loft apartment on the other side of town, Lilly sat in the doorway of her living room, on the floor... drowning herself in his voice. For weeks since the first time she danced for him at the club, thoughts of him hadn't strayed too far. She felt his hands on her as she worked...or as she painted. The way his breath left a tingle as he brushed his mouth across her skin. She thought about him while she showered, letting her fingers caress her pussy until she came.
She touched herself as she listened to him talk, hoping he wouldn't notice that she seemed to be losing focus on the conversation. She couldn't help but wonder what he could do. The wheelchair had caught her off guard.. she hadn't seen it at first, but he was so fucking beautiful she couldnít ignore him. For the longest time there were so many girls around him she didn't dare get close. She even saw him leave with them.. sometimes two or three at the same time. Finally though she caught him alone. She made it seem like an accident that she had bumped into him...things like that weren't hard to believe. Their eyes met as she started to dance against him, and she made it clear that this was not by mistake.
Adan could hear her breath quicken and her slow responses to his questions. He wasn't ignorant...This had happened to him before. He smiled and chuckled.
"Whatís the matter?" She asked him, coughing a little. She hadn't expected that from him...He must've known what she was doing.
He sighed slightly before he responded, but decided to tell her the truth. "I'm goddamn hard...again. I want to see you today. Is that impossible?"
to be continued....
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