7twistedwishes | Feral Urges

Feral Urges

The door opens into a large comfortable apartment. Rainfall patters against the windows and obscures some of the view out of the city, but even blurred the lights are there.

The apartment is huge... taking over maybe half the space of that building floor, and having stairs up and down too. Every piece of furniture is elegant and tasteful, every bit of decoration speaks of wealth most people can not even dream about.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, he got his way. His fingers knead into her breasts as they slowly make their way to where his clothes would be.

When they get there he sighs. "Well shit; now I have to let go to get dressed."

"Yes, you do. But mainly because it means I get to take off your clothes." She could just change them into the clothes, but what is the fun of that?

He smirks, leaning back slightly.

"I'm all yours," he breathes.

And she turns around, tugging his clothes off slowly... caressing, stroking and kissing the skin she reveals. "You smell good..."

"So do you," he sighs, eyes closing at the contact.

She smells of sin. Every sin you can think of: blood, sex, drugs; and all in a heady cocktail with traces of fire and smoke.

She smells just like she needs to: the right scent to get Jason hooked and wanting more.

Most of all, she smells like someone he can control. "Thank you." A last nip to his chest, then she retrieves proper boots, the pants, the t-shirt. "Better get you pressed or we are not going to bike ride anywhere..."

He pulls them on quickly, the stops, grabbing her arm.. For a brief moment, his eyes are much wider and needy than before, then the smoldering mask goes back up.

"You got anything before we leave? For a little...boost?"

"First drawer of my dresser." She winks taking off her own clothes and reaching of the leather microskirt and the mesh top.

On said dresser drawer Jason will find a good assortment of powders and pills...

As she dresses, she should be able to hear the sounds of Jason cutting cocaine on the small mirror in her dresser. They were in a humid climate, so he was having to take extra care with it.

After a few minutes, the soft sounds of him snorting the drug are heard, and the slight hiss: he's using the silver tubes that were in her drawer instead of asking her for new ones.

The Devil snickers to herself, finishing getting dressed... to certain values of dressed.

She comes to meet him, taking a couple pills with a shot of vodka. "Ready to go be wild, loverboy?"

The drug is kicking in, and he's grinning.

"Let's do it." He stops, rummaging once more in the dresser before pulling out a small baggie that seemed already prepped for him. He pockets it with the tube and grabs a silver cigarette case, flipping it open and taking one. He holds it out to Scarlet.

"Smoke?"

She flicks open a zippo and lights up. "Hm... let's go pick a bike."

The Devil takes him to an elevator and all the way to the underground garage.

He gives a low whistle when they get to the garage, his eyes bright with excitement.

"Oh my god. This is...it's like a wet dream." He comes to stop in front of one bike, caressing it lovingly. "Oh, sweet."

The keys are on the ignition, waiting for him... "Shall we, then?"

He climbs on with a grin, grabbing the helmet. He's high and reckless, but not stupid: he wants to live long enough to race her and then fuck her.

"Lead on, baby."

He starts the bike and moans aloud at the feel of her.

"Lead?" She laughs, climbing in behind Jason. "You are on the lead, baby..." The Devil leans to his back, wrapping arms around Jason's torso, while the garage door opens. "Show me what you can do..."

He smiles, very sure of himself as he takes off through the garage. Faster and faster; he can react more quickly than a human and the speed is exhilarating.

Or is it the drugs?

Whatever it is, his heart soars as they speed through the dark night.

"Gonna tell me where we're going?" he shouts back to her.

"Hmm, if we are going dancing... take the next right."

She presses closer to Jason's back "I will show you my favorite place..."

He leans into the turn, making a graceful right without slowing too much.
Normally he rides fairly safely, but tonight...tonight with Scarlet pressed against his back he feels emboldened, weaving between traffic at dangerous speeds.

And he laughs because it all feels so good.

She laughs with him, delighted, thrilled... The Devil has not had this much fun in centuries.

She gives directions and soon they are arrived at the refurbished warehouse where the club was set.

The name is suggestive: The Soul Machine.

He snickers as he slows the bike to an abrupt halt outside the club.

"Very appropriate, Scarlet."

He pats her leg and climbs off after her, ruffling his hair with his hands. "Let's get a drink; I'm parched."

And straight to the front door, past the line: a look, a word, a touch, and they are let in without hassle. "I love it here..."

The sound system is excellent, washing them in pure music, people all around losing themselves into bliss.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Feral Urges

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject