Untitled
Save for the small, suckling sounds all is quiet in this midnight chamber. By the light of the moon, Angel surveys the pale shafts on the floor, but his body and his consort's are still tucked into a corner and hidden in the dark.
His neck is being nibbled, now an ear; one hand caresses a cheek while the other pulls at his hip, as the intimate stranger goes backwards towards the closed windows and drawn curtains. Away from the groping corner and towards illumination. So he stumbles and follows the lead of moving flesh entwined with his.
A flash of red lipstick, and his eyes shift to include the impression of dark fluttery eyelashes. Arms embrace his neck; whomever's lips have now found his. What Angel sees as the kiss deepens include shiny black bangs. His seducer's haircut is a short bob. His seducer's ass is covered in sequins and fringe; Angel notices shoulders in spaghetti straps. The kiss ends abruptly; the stranger backs away, revealing the flapper's dress to be black and shiny as the wig.
Looking up and down thoroughly to check out the creature before him, Angel sees the tapered ankles replete with shiny, midnight shoes up through the flat chest and past the lipstick to see the glittered, burning eyes of--
"Spike??"
*SLAP* (the echo resounds)
Only a frosty look and a withering reply to make things clear:
"You men and your sales!"