A Flash Of Leg And A Taste Of Temptation
"You know, you're really pretty good," I reply as she's done auditioning. She ain't half bad, but goddamn it, she stole my garter and you just don't forgive people easily for some things like that. Actually, she is good, I'm not feeding lines, but anything would do by now.
I admit it, I'm hard up for an act and I'm scraping at the barrel here. She's being blown off by club managers, I don't have a partner. It's damn fate intervening. But she can't recognize it for what it is.
I ask her to join me and she's calling me a 'queen bee', but if it weren't for me, she wouldn't even be here. She'd be six feet under if Billy hadn't got her off - what's the vendetta against me about? She stole my act, my trial, my lawyer. Everything, while I stuck in the shadows like some castoff of society.
I grab her arm trying to persuade her; the girl's more stubborn than me. Her music falls and I help her pick it, as it litters the floor. I'm making a genunine effort to be nice but she isn't seeing it. A flash of my thigh strays her eyes away. Damn stockings with holes.
She wanted my advice, here it is. I'm all she's got, and deep down underneath that bitchy exterior, she knows it. And that kills her. Accept my offer or starve.
"I hate you" she replies. "There's only one business in the world where that's no problem at all," I retort. I've had it with her. God knows we've felt this tension for so long, I'm so fucking irritated..
I never really hated the twit, she just had an annoying personality. But she appears to grow on you.
Knocking the music from her hands once more, I slam her against the piano. The keys play a clattering of notes and then end suddenly with a sharp. She doesn't push me away but bites my lip, grasping it between her ivory teeth.
Her hands are finding my thighs, my breasts, while my tongue massages hers with a quickening pace. They're moving with a speed I can't fathom, but they're gentle. I'm gasping for breath as she kneads me till my knees are buckling. We're laying on the floor, sprawled out, the sheets of music fluttering around us.
I'm performing the dance routines I've commited to perfect memory, straddling her and she's underneath me sighing with ecstacy.
"Who else can say their career began with a bang?" she purrs in my ear, as I slip my hand underneath her dress and listen to the thunderings underneath our chests.