Note that this story contains some sexual situations that may not be suitable for younger readers.
Angelina scanned the room. The pulsing white light flashed in her eyes, causing her pupils to dilate and contract with the thumping beat of the music. She knew she could find the kind of man she desired, and it wouldn't take much time to do it.
Club 59 was a South Beach hot spot for the beautiful people mostly in their twenties, but that wasn't Angelina's target audience. It was men in their forties, sometimes even older, that suited her needs.
Wasting no time, she strutted across the dance floor towards the pink neon-lit bar that curved out in a horseshoe shape on the far end of the club. In seconds, she knew she had drawn the attention of every male in the room as well as those of most females, just as she had intended. The Prada cocktail dress emphasized her firm c-cup breasts, tiny waist and the swell of her hips to perfection. Its color set off her olive, flawless complexion and black flowing hair, while the high hemline stressed her long shapely legs. She stopped in the middle of the floor and bent over to adjust a strap on one of her Franco Sarto shoes. She glanced at the nearby men, their eyes staring hungrily at her butt, hoping to see just a little bit more.
With a smile that took in her audience, she proceeded to the bar and leaned her back against it, thrusting her pelvis out invitingly. The six foot, pink '59' glowing above her gave her the supernatural look of an angel, which couldn't have been farther from the truth. Then, as if on cue, a man approached.
'Do you mind if I buy you a drink and get your autograph? I'll keep it discrete so no one will bother you.' Angelina turned to see a young good-looking guy, with thick, brown hair and dark skin holding out a napkin and pen. Angelina glanced at the napkin then back at the man who was now flashing her an Abercrombie and Fitch model smile. She knew this was just another attempt at a pickup line, but she played along willingly enough.
'My autograph?' Angelina produced a confused smile.
'You are Eva Longoria aren't you?' the man asked, trying on a confused smile of his own.
Angelina had to admit this line wasn't too bad, and she did resemble Eva Longoria only about six inches taller, but young unmarried men weren't what she was looking for. What she was looking for was... him. She had turned back to scan the crowd and had been looking at the rail that separated the dance floor from the rest of the bar when she saw him. The rail was a favorite spot for the guys either too embarrassed or too old to mix it up with the twenty something's on the dance floor, and they always lined up there like birds on a wire.
Angelina looked back at the good-looking guy who was still holding out the napkin and pen. 'Nice try, but you're not my type.' She turned and walked out on the dance floor, while behind her, she heard the good-looking guy saying something about how he could be whatever type she wanted, but within a few steps, the pounding beat of 50 Cent drowned out all other sounds. Angelina headed towards a stunning blonde wearing a dress just as tight, but even shorter than hers.
#
'Damn, Elliott, this music sucks!' Jim said, yelling to be heard over the music blasting out of the six-foot JBL speakers that surrounded the dance floor like black skyscrapers.
Elliott, a well-built and attractive forty-year-old electrical engineer from central Ohio, just smiled at Jim and took another long drink of his Coors Light.
'You, my friend, are correct, but do you see that Latino babe?' Elliott asked, nodding towards the dance floor where a twenty-something woman with a killer body and long black hair was grinding with a blond woman almost as good looking. 'And, I think she's checking me out.' He took another drink and leaned on the rail.
'Oh, momma!' Jim said. He joined Elliot on the rail and watched the two women. The Latino was in the process of rubbing herself up and down the leg of the blonde to the wild encouragement of every guy within shouting distance.
'I'm in love,' Elliott said.
'In lust is more like it,' Jim countered.
Elliott sighed, thinking of his wife and kids some 1200 miles away in Ohio. However, this was South Beach and what happens in South Beach stays in South Beach. After all Elliott reminded himself. I'm not looking for a relationship so it really isn't cheating anyway. He sighed again and was about to head back to the bar when the Latino looked directly at him and ran her pink, wet tongue over her perfect white teeth. Elliott about dropped his bottle.
'Did you see that?' Elliott elbowed Jim in the ribs. 'I told you she's checking me out.'
'Are you sure it wasn't someone behind you?' Jim asked. 'Nothing personal, but it's a little hard to imagine a hot woman like that checking you out.' Jim finished the remaining half of his beer and belched.
'Thanks for the confidence, buddy.' Elliott pulled a twenty out of his pocket and handed it to Jim. 'After that comment, I shouldn't buy you a beer, but I'm not leaving this spot, and I know you won't go buy the beers just because you're a nice guy.'
'I'm hurt,' Jim said, grabbing the twenty from Elliott then disappearing into the crowd.
Elliott looked back at the women. His heart rate went up when the Latino looked at him again. His mind filled with visions of a night with her, pushing out any lingering thoughts there may have been of his wife. Things started to stir to life in regions much lower than his brain, but Elliott didn't notice, and really didn't care: the chance of a lifetime loomed on the horizon like an afternoon thunderstorm.
50 Cent finished, and The Pussycat Dolls picked up with 'Don't Cha', keeping the pounding beat pulsating through the crowd like an ancient mating ritual. The Latino leaned over to say something to the blonde, and they both looked toward Elliott. The blonde said something back, and they both laughed before the Latino started walking towards Elliott.
You have to be shitting me Elliot thought as the woman approached. The closer she got, the better she looked. He suddenly wished he had beer to down for the boldness needed to deal with a woman like this. There had to be a catch; there always was. Maybe they were laughing at him and this was all just a big joke, or a bet, or-
'Why aren't you out on the floor dancing? You look like you are in pretty good shape.' She ran her eyes over Elliott's chest then glanced down at his left hand. Elliott followed her glance and saw she was looking at his wedding ring. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten to take it off before they got to the club.
'Well, I'm not really that good of a dancer. I hardly ever come in to a club like this,' Elliott lied. He wasn't a good liar and he was sure he was going to blow this. He thought of a hunter hiding in the brush, and then sneezing just as a trophy buck entered the clearing.
'Really?' She arched perfect eyebrows set above the darkest, most beautiful eyes Elliott had ever seen in his life. 'I don't either. So what do you say we get out of here and go someplace a little quieter?' She reached up, put her hand on Elliott's arm, and gave it a gentle squeeze.
Elliott couldn't believe this was happening. He had never had a woman even close to this caliber hit on him before. Fat, ugly, or more likely both, wasn't too unusual, but a woman that looked like she could be featured on the cover of Cosmopolitan? No way. He looked around for Jim, but he was nowhere in sight. Elliott didn't want to just leave without saying anything, but he wasn't going to take the chance that while he was off hunting down Jim, little Miss Latino would come to her senses.
'Yeah, I do want to get out of here,' Elliott said. 'But I-'
'Stop,' she said staring into Elliott's eyes. 'If you're going to tell me you rode with your friend so you don't have a car, that's fine. I'll drive. And if you're going to tell me you're married, I know and I don't care. I'm not looking for a relationship, I'm just looking for a little fun. Now let's go.' She stepped through an opening in the rail, took Elliott's hand, and led him towards the club exit.
Elliott prayed he wouldn't wake up from what had to be a dream. He took one last look over his shoulder for Jim, not so much to let him know he was leaving, but to gloat about whom he was leaving with. However, with still no sign of him, Elliott quickly shifted his mental gears from gloating to mentally practicing his patented bedroom moves he would be blessing this beautiful woman with in the very near future.
#
Her apartment was nothing like what Elliott thought it would be. It was in an older section of South Beach he had never been to before and probably would have avoided had he known about it. To get in, they walked up a narrow set of steps to a small landing that had a door off to either side. Somewhere in the building, he could hear a baby crying, some guy calling his wife a stupid bitch, and the thump of what Elliott figured was no doubt a Latino beat. The smell of cigarette smoke oozed from the walls in sickening sheets stinging Elliott's eyes.
Although Elliott had often fantasized about picking up a woman and bragging to all his friends about it, he had never actually gone through with it. But deep down, all he really wanted to do is see if he could. He did love his wife, but things were pretty dull at the home front, especially in bed.
He was just starting to think this wasn't such a good idea when the woman suddenly dropped her keys and bent over in front of him, giving him a titillating view up her short skirt and extinguishing his virtuous thoughts like a match in a windstorm.
After she picked up the keys, she looked over her shoulder and gave Elliott a knowing smile, then proceeded to unlock the door and step into the apartment. Elliott, heart pounding with excitement, followed her in. As soon as he stepped through the door, he saw the inside was a perfect match for the outside.
The only light was provided by a small table lamp in the opposite corner, which barely illuminated the cheap looking furniture spread around the room. But worse than the uninviting atmosphere was the smell. It reminded Elliott of a trip he had made to the zoo with the kids last summer, but the zoo didn't have the underlying smell of something rotten. He thought maybe a rat or something had-
'By the way, my name is Angelina,' the woman said interrupting Elliott's thoughts.
At first, Elliott didn't even notice her extended hand, but then quickly took it. 'I'm Elliott. It's real nice-'
'Let's just cut through the bullshit and get down to why we are here,' Angelina said, pulling her hand out of Elliott's and pushing him against the wall.
Before Elliott could protest, which was the farthest thing from his mind, she pressed her lips against his and slid her tongue deep in his mouth. Her breath was hot and sweet and Elliott had never experienced such passion. She was literally ripping his shirt off and pressing herself against him with such force, that it almost hurt. Almost.
She reached down beside him and released a door Elliott hadn't even noticed was there. As soon as the door opened, the zoo smell became stronger, but the fact Angelina was already pulling off his belt put the importance of what the room smelled like right up there with what time the next rerun of I Love Lucy might be on. Keeping her mouth locked with his, she backed him into the room and pushed the door closed behind them.
The room was pitch black, and as soon as the door closed, all sounds from the surrounding apartments ceased. Even the sound of the door closing was a muffled thump, but like the smell, these thoughts were nothing more than sparks flashing through Elliott's mind as Angelina pulled off his pants and moved him deeper into the room.
'Where are we?' Elliott panted.
'Shhhh,' Angelina said, pressing her finger to his lips.
Elliott couldn't remember ever being so worked up in his life. There was something about Angelina that was different from any other woman he had been with. It was like her need was so deep she could barely contain herself. This animal desire was contagious, and Elliott found himself losing all thoughts other than he needed this woman now.
The back of Elliott's legs hit something and he fell into what felt like a large wooden chair. He moved his hands instinctively down to catch himself, and felt the large flat arms of the chair. The seat and back felt sticky, like something had been previously spilled on it. His next sensation was of cold steel clasps snapping over his wrists.
'Hey what's this?' Elliott asked into the dark. He had never been with a woman that was into this kind of action, but wasn't really surprised that Angelina was.
'Shhhh,' Angelina said again. 'Relax and enjoy the ride.'
By the sound of her voice, Elliott could tell her position was a littler lower than his, then he felt two more clasps snap shut, one over each ankle. Then she was on top of him and wasted no time in consummating the evening. He could tell she still had her dress on, but that was it. What he saw under her skirt on the steps, or more what he didn't see, was now confirmed.
Her heat was close to feverish, and it felt like he had just been immersed in hot, wet velvet. The feeling of helplessness was intoxicating. At first, he was a little nervous about it, but the fact there was nothing he could do to stop her, or slow her down even if he wanted to, somehow made it even more intense than he could have ever imagined. Elliott took short labored breaths, and he could feel his lips getting numb. This was the most incredible sex of his life. It was in this deepest moment of desire he knew he had to have Angelina more than just one night. He needed to have her again and-
A clicking noise suddenly sounded from somewhere behind him. The noise sounded familiar, but Elliott couldn't quite place it. Then, without ceremony, Angelina stopped gyrating on Elliott's lap and climbed off.
'What are you doing?' Elliott gasped, not believing she was actually stopping now when he was only moments away from-
The rapid clicking sound started again, and this time the image of a set of plastic teeth, chattering their way across a gag shop countertop, flashed in his mind. Click, click, click, click, click, click. 'And what is that clicking?'
Elliott wasn't able to turn in the direction of the sound, but the room was so black that even if he could, it would be like trying to see the bottom of a swimming pool filled with ink. Then he heard something else: A voice from the direction of the clicking that made his body go as rigid as a day old corpse, and his penis to wilt like a delicate flower.
'Yeah, yeah, yeah, chop, chop, chop, chop, ohh, oooohh,' the voice said from the darkness.
The weird acoustics of the room made the voice sound flat and distant. It sounded human, or at least somewhat human, but not like anything, or anyone, Elliott had ever heard before.
'Who's there?' Elliott yelled, suddenly realizing the vulnerability of being strapped securely in a chair in a tottaly dark room... naked. He jerked his hands, but the cold steel bit into his wrists, sending searing pain through his arms. His eyes widened in the blackness and sweat started pushing through his pores in waves.
'Ohhhh, oh, chop, chop, chop, chop, yeah, yeah, ohhhh, chop.'
The voice now sounded closer, and Elliott thought he could hear a kind of wet slapping sound.
'Let me out of this chair. Let me out of this chair now!' He jerked harder, but the straps held fast, and chair didn't move, suggesting it had been bolted to the floor. Elliott's heart pounded so hard that it made dull thumping sounds in his ears. He felt disoriented; could feel himself spinning downward into a darkness even more impenetrable than the blackness of the room.
'Oh calm down,' Angelina said. He heard a snap and suddenly the room filled with a brilliant white light, saving him from blacking out, but forcing him to close his eyes, then slowly open them against the glare.
As his eyes started to adjust, he found himself in a large room, the walls and ceilings of which were covered with some kind of white, billowed fabric that, even in his frantic state, Elliott registered as the cause of the deadened sound. Strange, maroon smears and splatters covered the walls and floor like someone had thought decorating the room by smearing red paint on the walls would add a nice touch to the room's appeal. What looked like a large bone lay against one wall.
'Did you enjoy yourself?' Angelina asked.
Elliott jerked his head towards Angelina. 'What the hell is going on? Let me out of this chair.' Angelina just smiled at Elliott and held up something between her finger and thumb that Elliott recognized as a gold ring. He looked down at his left hand and saw his wedding ring was missing. He looked back at Angelina. 'Hey, what-'
'You don't deserve to wear this anyway,' she said and tossed it in what looked like a gallon sized pickle jar that was already at least half full of a variety of gold and silver rings. The dull ping it made had the finality of the sound of prison bars slamming shut on the beginning of a convicted murderer's life sentence.
'Oooooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yip, yip, chop.'
Elliott had forgotten about weird voice approaching from behind. He tried to turn again, but the back of the chair was tall enough to block any view.
'What the fuck is that!' Elliott demanded, but his quavering voice made it sound more like a whine.
'You mean who the fuck is that,' Angelina responded calmly. 'That is my husband, Max.'
'Your husband?' Elliott squeaked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe. The thought a man capable of making those insane gibbering noises was somewhere right behind him, sent a chill crawling across his skin like a thousand tiny spiders.
'Yes, my husband. A husband who I remained faithful too while he was a successful scientist at Rockwool Labs and still remain faithful to even through his... ah, let's say unfortunate accident at the genetics lab. For better and for worse you know.' Angelina smiled at Elliott. Her dark eyes gleamed in the fluorescent glow of the overhead light. 'Oh, but of course you don't know about that do you? You don't know what it's like to be faithful, even during the better side of it. You probably have a beautiful wife at home, but here you are screwing me, and you barely even know my name.'
Elliott looked back at Angelina. He couldn't believe this was happening. This was just supposed to be a simple hookup. Nothing more. Just a little fun. Get in and get out with no strings attached. And how could she talk about being faithful when only two minutes ago she was riding him like a country bar mechanical bull? He was just positioning his mouth to ask her that very question when he caught movement in the corner of his eye. He looked down to his right and struggled to comprehend what he saw moving across the floor.
One bulging, blue eye stared up at him from what looked more like a cabbage than a head. The other eye was gone, leaving nothing more than a swollen pink socket. Its nose was turned up like the Phantom of the opera and its mouth was a protrusion of sharp teeth, barely contained by thin white lips. Scraggly hunks of hair trailed off its cabbage head and down its knotted back as it pulled itself along the floor by its hands. One leg pushed at the slick tile floor while the other leg, which looked more like a seal's fin, slapped at the floor in wet smacks. A blackish, blue hole was positioned on its back just above its mutated legs and was bubbling out something that looked like a mixture of blood and shit.
'Ooooooh, Ooooh, yeah, yeah, chop, chop, yip, yip, yip, yip,' said the monstrosity that Angelina claimed as her husband.
'Holly shit! Let me out of here! Let me the fuck out of here! Oh please. NO!' Elliott screamed. He jerked so violently at the clasps that blood streamed down the chair in small rivers.
#
Max dragged himself around in front of Elliott and stared up at him with his one rolling, blue eye. His teeth chattered, making the clicking sound Elliott had heard before. Then, like a bird pecking seed, his head shot forward and he bit three toes off Elliott's right foot.
Elliott screamed in pain as Max crunched through the toes, swallowing them in a gulp before running his long, black tongue over his pointed teeth.
Angelina looked lovingly at her husband. 'Now you enjoy yourself Max.' She started to open the door then stopped and turned back to Elliott. 'Oh, just so you know, Max is especially fond of the places I've... that I've been, so to speak.' Ignoring Elliott's pleas, she turned back to the door, leaving Max to make his way up Elliott's jerking legs.
Angelina closed the door and leaned against the wall. Sometimes she did feel guilty about having sex with the unfaithful pigs she brought back to Max, but she had to test how faithful they were. There really was nothing to feel guilty about. After all Angelina thought I'm not looking for a relationship, so it really isn't cheating, anyways.
