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The beer in his mouth tasted like a goodnight kiss from long ago, boozy and sweet with a doe-eyed love. The crowd of men around him died out slowly like a cigarette left to burn in an ashtray, slipping quietly out the door like so many thoughtless wisps of smoke.
A loyal dog at heart, he waited for her to bless him once more with her presence, that neon angel of mercy and death. He sat and drank his beer until it was sour foam and nothing, glancing around for her as if she were an augury from God’s own mind.
Nero, his sweet baby girl, as innocent as a blood-drenched she-wolf, wore a uniform of white lace panties with nothing else but sparkling angel wings, she was quite a sight to behold and difficult for anyone with eyes to ignore.
She had worn lipstick that night, (just for him, he likes to think) as red as a bouquet of Aphrodite’s long-stem roses. Kissing him just once when she walked by, a mistresses mark on the side of his neck, it had nearly made his heart stop beating.
He still did not see her, and instantly knew why. She was waiting for him, the little minx, in the champagne room where it cost three thousand dollars for just one half-hour for any fantasy to be made real.
Feeling the heat warm his skin already, he left his empty glass on the bar, massaging the side of his neck where he had been kissed as he rose from his stool, smearing the lip-lined stained until it looked like a bite from Dracula’s barefoot bride.
She was swaying when he found her, her hips rocking gently from side to side in an erotic trance, her hands held over her head and wrapped tightly around the pole in the center of the room. Dante closed the door behind him, the lights in the room a cold and serene neon blue. Nero’s wings sparkled as she moved, and Dante swore he saw them flap.
As he stepped towards her, he gave her a grin as sweet as gunpowder, the side of his throat beginning to throb. When she finally looked at him, he licked his lips and swallowed, moving closer for a kiss that rightfully belonged to him.
Their kiss was impossibly soft, immaculate and tender. Unfit for a winged ecdysiast and her ground-stricken admirer. Pressing his hips against hers, she let go of the pole and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, still swaying gently.
She deepened the kiss, her tongue pushing past his lips for a taste of the beer that he had nursed as he waited for her. The perfumed wax of her lipstick smirching his mouth, making it look like his lip had been bitten and torn.
When he broke away and kissed her neck, his facial hair cut into her skin, and she closed her eyes with a gasp and a smile, moaning lightly when his thumb hooked into the thin white strap of her underwear and eased it down her hips. Nero was already moist; he did not even have to touch her to know.
Nero was a gift just for him, that hive of untainted ecstasy, dripping from her second mouth; hungry and wishing to be fed. He lifted her up and for a moment she was flying, sighing as her undergarment slid down her legs, slipping to her ankle where it dangled for a moment before falling to the floor.
Her arms were at his shoulders, fingers scratching into the fabric of his shirt, his mouth on her breasts, tasting one nipple until it became pert before moving onto the other. Her hands moved to his back, feeling for the taut muscles, tingling all over, her breasts wet and shimmering with his spit, glittering like her false flightless wings.
He brought her smoothly down to the floor; her feet finding a shaky purchase as he sunk down to his knees, his mouth lining every petite edge of her body, hands flat against her skin in prayer.
“C’mon baby girl…” He said in a husky and quiet voice, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards him, his eyes on her pretty vaginal lips.
She breathed and suspired as she straddled his jaw, her hands clutching at her bare thighs as she rocked back and forth with a gentle cadence. The throb of his tongue against her, the rhythmic laps made her blood move and her breath hitch. She felt her second mouth open wide for him, for his mouth, his teeth, his fingers.
Dante slowly shook his head from one side to the other, scraping his clenched teeth against her, his breath coming out in shaky hot bursts. Her legs were trembling, aching like her bones were about to split apart.
If she weren’t covering his mouth, she would have been able to see his wry, self-congratulating smile at her imminent collapse.
The pleasure was monumental, searing and constant, aching and seemingly eternal. It morphed into hurt, something that could bite and sting.
It proved too much for her to bear, and she forced herself off of him, sliding down onto his chest before he could finish what he had began.
“You…you okay, babe? Did I hurt you? Wha…” He could hardly string a sentence together, though thrums of a hushed distress could be heard all throughout his voice. As he spoke his hands were gently massaging her hips, tracing the wishbone-fragile lining of her ribs, catching small trickles of sweat with his fingertips.
“I’m fine, Dante…I’m...” She whispered as she slid down his body, shivering at the metallic scrape of his belt buckle against her skin; a welcomed and expected nuisance, her fingers automatic and undoing the notches with an adept swiftness until the belt slid free and the zipper of his jeans was pulled open. “I’m fine,”
A lovely and brief moan from Nero sweetened Dante’s senses and encouraged him, making him smile, biting his lip as he pulled himself out of his underwear for her.
She reached for him without any hint of hesitation, her lips parted slightly as she took hold and gave a few gentle strokes that made him groan and writhe under her.
She still ached on the inside, though the overwhelming sensation was slowly subsiding, fading away like a once dazzling light. She wanted that pleasure back, to build it up in a way that she could control.
Without another thought, Nero guided him inside of her, closing her eyes to indulge her other senses.
Dante leaned up and devoured her with another kiss, his hand on the small of her back, and Nero could taste herself on his lips, musky with beer and waxy with smeared lipstick.
"Ah..." She gasped, a meek little sound fucked right out of her. She put her arms around his shoulders and kept them there, clawing at his back and hair as she cavorted in his damp lap. Her toes curled until they cracked, the muscles in her legs taut and thin, pleasure cutting through her body like the edge of a razorblade, instead of hammering at her guts like a gavel.
"D-Da..." She didn't know whether she wanted to say his name or call him daddy, so she let the word die on her tongue as she kissed him again. Her wings fluttering in the neon light.