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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Erotica · #1935577
How a night of debauchery can make you overlook your rationality. Not finished.
Club 414 was throbbing with bodies in a psychedelic trance. Or rather, a bunch of people getting wasted on drugs and alcohol at the weekend because you can buy drugs anywhere in that damn club. The music 'psychedelic trance' has loads of squiggly and ambient sound effects to a 4/4 beat and is great fun for those who like that sort of thing.
Earlier on as we were preparing to go out, my girlfriend Kasia and I had had a dreadful argument. It was the usual bullshit about how I never expressed my true emotions and how we ought to see other people. We eventually came to a strange conclusion. We would both find other partners for the evening and this could be one night we were free of each other. I didn't mind, the bitch would at least be off my shoulders for the night. No doubt she thought the same thing. So we made our way down Electric Avenue to Coldharbour Lane where a queue was just forming outside the club. The bouncers never search you properly and they are primarily concerned with concealed weapons rather than drugs. Not that I had any yet. It looked as though I might need some if I was to beat Kasia at her own game.

I chatted to the barmaid Mona. We had always gotten on very well and before the club was filled to capacity, I had always struck up conversation. She was Portuguese and rather petite, sporting light brown hair and for some reason wore a tight leather jacket over a flowery blouse. She often joked to me that they should play the Spice Girls instead of trance and house. She was a sweet young thing but she had a boyfriend so it wasn't worth trying it on with her, especially as I respected her. She poured a good San Miguel, what can I say?
I bought my first pint of the evening and headed upstairs to the smoking area. Up a spiral staircase at the back of the club, then through an upstairs lounge decorated with images of cities and mythological creatures lies the hallowed smoking area. This place, decorated by fairy lights and way too small for most people to sit down, this place is where most of the revelers come to buy their drugs. Normally sold by one of the D.J.'s or the creepy guy who looks like he's been taking substances since he was 10. At this moment in time, only a couple resided. He was a short Mexican looking guy dressed in sports casual and a baseball cap that said 'PIMP'. She looked Spanish and wore a white tight-fitting shirt that her nipples poked out of nicely and denim hot pants with skin-coloured tights. Both looked very peaceful and nicely stoned and I started to think that I should definitely get her off his hands. He looked over and flashed a broad grin. In a soft-spoken South London accent he said, "Do you want some MDMA?" I realized I was a tenner short and so made my way out of the club to the cash-point round by the KFC. I passed some dealers on the corner trying to sell me crack, took my money out and went back to purchase some Class A's. When I arrived, the music was louder and far more intense. I could hear the voice of Terence Mckenna sampled over the beats, talking about the benefits of mind-altering hallucinogenics. Yes, this is a music culture that embraces drugs wholeheartedly in an almost adorably naive fashion. I at least keep an air of cynicism about toxic poison. When I got back to the smoking area again they were the couple were still there and she was talking about how we are all one consciousness. Nothing wrong with that.
"It is such a lovely night tonight and I feel so great to be around such wonderful people and beautiful music. I wish you all the happiness in the world," she said to me. God, I was horny. I bought the MDMA and walked away to sit down and hide my raging hard-on. I went downstairs to the toilet and snorted a couple of lines.The chemical taste gets you first and to start with you feel like you might vomit. But then waves of nausea followed by a euphoric sense of wonder and amazement at everything around you is common with a marked increase in feelings of empathy. MDMA being the pure form of ecstasy is like having waves of orgasm run through your entire body. I hit the dance-floor and the energy rushed in. I was alive, i was buzzing! And I felt such a stupendous attachment to the world and yet I felt somehow detached. A strange feeling, when you can't tell whether you're coming or going. The music made one of it's trademark crescendo's, the DJ waving her hand in the air and I saw the room go wavy as if looking at a distorted TV screen. The feeling was overwhelming and I missed a beat as I danced ever more slowly. The music seemed to slow down and things went past in slow-motion. I danced for a little bit then rolled a fag and headed back up to the smoking area.

I spoke to the Spanish girl who was reading to some guy with a beard. I looked and saw that it was a Facebook page of a poem about love. I forget the words but they sounded similar to that verse in the Bible that deals with that most pesky of subjects. Her eyes were beautiful and she seemed to radiate a light that I hadn't noticed earlier on in the night. I paused to accept an offer of Ketamine. Now I was tripping. "I pray that God's angels watch over us tonight" she said, wiping the powder from her nostrils. "I know St. Lucia gives me protection." I felt a pang of sadness as I thought back to my Church days. But horse tranquilizers work fast and my eyes opened wide as I just sat there, rocking back and forth and back and forth. She took my hand in hers and we just sat there for what seemed like ages.
I found myself back on the dance-floor. How did I get there? A few less people now. I checked my phone and it was 2:34 am. Wow, everything was so wonderful, colourful and amazing. I prayed that St. Lucia might keep me on this trip forever. I sat down next to a stoned looking chick whose wide eyes stared at me in wonderment. She flashed a broad grin. Her boyfriend was sitting next to her, shit! Still, he asked her to squeeze my cock which took some of the tension off the embarrassing event. "Wow, I can't wait to get you home to fuck that hard, flaccid cock" she said, while squeezing my cock. After her boyfriend went downstairs to get drinks she expressed reservations about her previous comment. "Well, your boyfriend did want you to", I said. "Hmm... OK then." We went round to the inside lounge where the film "300" was being projected onto a screen in all it's homoerotic glory. We took some drugs and engaged in some good old-fashioned tonguing, licking each others faces like dogs. Her hand was very curious and somehow found its way down to my crotch, encircling my genitals as if they were the most important things in the world. My dick was getting really hard and while she stopped as soon as the bouncer made his check, she got her head down there and unzipped my trousers, taking my penis into her mouth and licking up and down. We were interrupted by her excited husband who plastered a tasty kiss on my lips. He gave me some ketamine. After a minute, my whole perspective was changing and my thoughtz soared as I caressed her inner thighs. I got my hand to the rim of her tights, pushing my hand dowbn through her frilly knickers to her wet, hot pussy. I could feel the hairs underneath pull so she squealed in both pleasure and pain.
© Copyright 2013 G.D. Evans (proustprat1985 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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