Forbidden fruit is always the sweetest….
The music is bumping. The air is so thick I can feel it caress my skin as I make my way through the crowded dance floor. Face after face twisted in its own form of wicked pleasure… All these people indulging themselves in their desires. Grinding their sexual frustrations out on whoever is willing to reciprocate. Clouding our judgments with the sweet intoxication of our varied flavors of liquid courage. When the lights go out and the speakers come on each patron gives their silent signature an inaudible acknowledgment that for the next few hours… in this place… your wildest dreams can come true… nearly anything is possible.
The phone rings. He requests my presence. He does not belong to me, but I am his. I submit to calling without hesitation. No questions needed aside from the address of our Rendezvous. I arrive at a hidden night club on such a quiet street to be in the Big City. The night is cool, slightly uncomfortable without a Jacket… but bearable. For once in my life, I’m early. So I make my way to the bar and start the night off with a shot of my old friend Senor Patron. As the tequila begins to warm my blood I look up and see him enter. Always such a presence when he walks into a room, everyone notices. But wait… who is this woman with him. If I were anyone else … looking at her frame I would have assumed she was me. She’s wearing sunglasses so I can’t make out her face. I make my way closer, she removes her glasses and her face becomes one that I am more than familiar with. He also does not belong to her… but she, much like me … is his.
We drink… we dance…. We drink…. We laugh…. We drink…
My Mr. Jones…
He pulls my face to his and kisses me… if I didn’t know better I would have thought he missed me. Then he turns to his left… and kisses her. For just a moment the world goes silent. “What the hell just happened?” Is all I can think. Did we talk about this? Did I somehow forget THIS portion of the directions? So I am faced with a simple decision… Am I down? I think to myself… What the hell … Carpe Diem”
We spend the rest of the night in varied 3person dance maneuvers… Tasting Ciroc off each others lips. We have officially occupied the Very Important People’s section of this club. Women are forgetting what their Mother’s taught them and shaking what they gave them for the ones we incautiously throw. Us Musketeers have found a corner and made our way to a Verbal game of twister, enjoying the combinations of sweet the 3 of us make.
The next thing I remember is being told to make my way to the car. Driver pulls the Benz up we hop in the back. Sleep takes over… I awake to find myself walking through the lobby of a hotel. Room doors are opened. Showers commence. I am the last to exit the shower… my erotic obsession with hot water delays me. I exit the bathroom to find them in the bed. She is straddling him, grabbing his back for dear life. Their lips beckon me to join the two of them in the bed… Lights are turned off… and then there were three.
