Around the club neon fizzed and flickered fitfully through the murk, syncopating with tinny dance music, beating out their blind exhortation to drink.
Randal watched the dancer; her thong a wilting peacock’s tail feathered with bills. Her lithe body and thick hair, rounded in a chignon, glistened in the spotlights.
Absently massaging his inner thigh he raised a buttock, squeaking out a beery fart.
Later, he paid more attention as she ground against him.
"Make me hard baby"
"I'm going to make you so hard," she breathed, her hands running across sleek skin, a practiced flick freeing her breasts.
Randal's breath rasped unevenly, watching her reach further, unclasping the thick sinuous ropes of her hair.
They tumbled to her shoulders uncoiling, a writhing nest of snakes, bifurcated tongues tasting blindly for him.
Her cold eyes burned, "Hard as a rock".
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