Pinballing

I am at my gig last night. There's a blonde Jodie Foster-looking woman, in a slightly frumpying looking dress. Her hair is long and it spills over one eye enticingly. she looks up at me with a smile. She is leaning down to kiss me, our lips parting as soon as they meet, our tongues snaking by each other, her hand cupping the throbbing bulge in my jeans. I blink as her friend in the backwards-turned baseball cap nudges her and me back to reality. She is cute, too, but I can stay in the real world looking at her.

 

I get up to walk across the room and there she is. Short hair with dyed blonde streaks, in a pink lace cami. I decide she is named Keri. She is carressing the face of her girlfriend next to her playfully. The world shifts and suddenly it is less playful and more serious. Their faces are drawn together, they kiss. I feel myself get bumped from behind and get back to work.

 

Minutes later I am sitting. I look across the room and see Keri fishign a box of cigarettes out of her purse, giving me a clear view of her soft round cleavage. My eyes flutter. I can see her looking down, her hands struggling with the stubborn fabric of my jeans as she pulls them off. Her hand pulls my tall erection free and her face lowers on it, her lips sliding over the shaft, wetting it. I close my eyes, drinkign in the world of sensation she is creating.

 

I am back in reality, directing people inside, controlling traffic. I see a regular, stretching her arms over her head, her shirttail rising above the waist of her jeans, exposing her flat, pale belly. My hands automatically hook under her shirt, lifting it off. As the sweater clears her face she is kissing me again, running her hands under my shirt, relishing the warm smooth feel of another person's skin. My hands slide under her skirt, lifting it, feeling the laserlike heat from her body.

 

Keri nudges me, asking for alight. I grab a lighter off the bar, and help her out. The flame gently flickers a warm orange glow on her face. The glow is echoed by the five candles in the room as she lies back on the red satin sheets, naked, and basking in the warmth of her body after teh instense electricity of the orgasm. I am idly stroking her, running my hands along her ribs, the soft curves of her breasts, the gentle swooping lines of her hips, and she drags intently on teh cigarette.

 

The puff of smoke hits me in the face, sending me into coughs. I sit down ,and take stock. I am careening all over the place. I have to focus. But focus never finds me tonight.