Lightning Strikes Again

Walking away from the Omega Pi house, Cam fingered the little piece of bright pink rubberized plastic on his wrist. “Genius or what? Right place, right time, my plan was perfectly executed,” he chortled, pleased with himself.

“I have to hand it to you,” Oliver acknowledged, “worked out pretty much like you set it up.”

“Fuck was she not the most amazingly gorgeous creature you have ever laid eyes upon?” he asked.

“She is definitely a looker. Way friendlier than the dark haired girl who answered the door,” Oliver replied.

“Don’t get me wrong, that chick was cute in her own way, you know, in that ‘I need to get fucked in the ass to teach me not to be such a bitch’ kind of way,” Cam replied.

“Can’t for sure say I’ve seen that particular look on a girl’s face before,” Oliver countered.

“For future reference, that was it,” Cam chortled, “you want to go see some naked girls?”

“I don’t think we’re going to get in,” Oliver opined.

“You and your negative vibes, sheesh,” Cam replied with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.

Late afternoon with the sun still shining, the club appeared fairly innocuous and nondescript, two broad doors beneath a subdued sign.

“Den of Desire, how very droll,” mumbled Oliver, rolling his eyes

Pulling the long vertical brass handle on the door to the left, Cam opened it and stepped through, instantly greeted by a huge thickly muscled man wearing jeans and a black t-shirt that had ‘DEN’ stenciled on in white seated next to a table reading a newspaper. A short brush cut and goatee, the man looked like crime spree waiting to happen.

Oliver swallowed hard, thinking they just might catch a beating for the audacity of daring to step inside.

Cam smiled and nodded, nonchalantly turning down the short corridor leading into the Den.

“I’m with him,” Oliver babbled, heart pounding, jerking a thumb after Cam.

The scary man nodded then looked back down on his paper.

The interior of the bar was dimly lit, one central stage elevated and surrounded by chairs dominating the floor. There were several other table up and away from the stage. In corner to the left was the bar itself and further down the wall was a raised DJ booth.

There were only four other patrons in the bar, two at one table, the other two seated by themselves.

“That’s the power of positive thinking my friend,” Cam whispered as they made their way into the club pulling Oliver down to the seats ringing the elevated stage.

A scantily attired female waitress walked up, “You boys old enough to be in here?” she asked, arching an eyebrow.

Cam grinned, “Would we have made it passed Conan the doorman if we weren’t?” he countered, giving her a wink.

She smiled, “What will it be then?” she inquired.

“Bud? You have bud?” Cam asked.

“Bottle or draft?”

“Draft,” he said, looking at Oliver, then back to her, holding up two fingers.

“You got it sweetie,” she replied, turning and walking away.

The man behind the bar did a headcount of people in the bar and, moved down the wall and climbed into the DJ booth. “All right, are you fellas ready?” came his voice over the speakers, “Let’s give it up for sticky sweet Kandi!”

What little light there was in the bar dimmed and the ones over the stage got brighter. Through the thick black curtains at the rear of the stage came a tall auburn haired girl dressed in a racy nurse’s candy striper uniform, large rounded breasts threatening to burst free as she dropped a rolled up towel near the back of the stage and strode purposefully out, red high heels clicking off the polished surface.

She was amazing, body lithe and sensuous as she circled the brass pole, Paralyzer by Finger Eleven belting out of the speakers. Gyrating her hips slowly, smoldering eyes locked on the young men seated in front of her, she smiled coquettishly.

The waitress returned, settling down a cardboard coaster and drink in front of each boy. Cam handed her a ten and told her to keep the change.

When the next song started, All She Wants to do is Dance by Don Henley, she removed her bra, springing free two exquisite nearly perfect breasts, each crowned with a tight little pink nipple. Pressing them together, she covered the nipples, teasing the handful of spectators in the audience before snaking out a long tongue and flicking at each nipple. Releasing the round globes, she dropped down on the floor, writhing provocatively.

At the end of the song, she moved to the back of the stage, picking up something and putting it in her mouth, the small white handle of a sucker protruding from between her Cupid’s bow lips as she spread the towel out to the gravelly voice Leonard Cohen singing Hallelujah.

Moving sinuously toward the two lads at the edge of the stage, she pulled a small red lollipop from her mouth, touching first the left then the right nipple of each breast, sly grin on her gorgeous face while she extended the hand holding the lollipop, right thumb and forefinger holding the little white stick by the end as she rolled it along Cam’s bottom lip.

Opening her own mouth, she extended her tongue and arched an eyebrow. Cam mimicked the gesture, his lips parting and she put the little sucker into his mouth. Rearing back onto her knees, she slipped her thumbs into the waistband of the sheer red and white thong, pulling it partway down before lifting it back up.

By the time her set was done, she vanished through the curtains into the back, each boy fully aroused, the lights over the stage darkening as the DJ said, “Kandi, let her know you love her.”

Clearing his throat, Cam nodded, “I do love her,” he said, clapping his hands together loudly.

Oliver nodded, mutely, clapping though not nearly as vigorously as his companion.

Kandi appeared through a door to the side of the stage, dressed in a white silk robe with black and red embroidery on it.

Cam whistled and nodded, big grin on his face.

Walking slowly towards the two, she leaned in close to Cam, “Is that all cheer for me sugar?” she purred, hot breath in his ear.

Leaning to the side and looking at her he nodded.

“Here,” she said, hand emerging from her pocket, pink wristband stretched out between her fingers.

“Oh my god, you’re Omega Pi,” he declared, eyes raising.

“Girl has to work through university somehow,” she replied, taking his right hand and slipping the band over it and onto his wrist.

Tussling his hair, she chuckled and sashayed away.

Cam snapped his head around to Oliver, “Best frigging day ever!”

Oliver nodded, catching sight of the monstrous bouncer coming into the bar and walking directly toward where they were sitting, a very unwholesome and menacing expression on his nasty face. “We should go,” he murmured.

Noticing the approaching slab of muscle, Cam picked up his glass and drained it in a single chug.

“You two, ID,” said the intimidating man, voice deep and filled with the promise of pain.

“We were just leaving my good man,” Cam said, rising to his feet and clapping a hand on the larger man’s rock hard shoulder. “You lift bro?”

The man looked at Cam’s hand then at the boy himself, lip curling, “When I’m not training for my next fight,” he growled.

Oliver, now also on his feet, smiled and nodded. Both he and Cam were over six feet, but this behemoth was closer to six and a half feet. “Sorry sir,” he said, “my friend is right, we were just going.”

“Then go,” he urged, the tone implying sooner than later would probably be in the boys’ best interest.

Exiting the bar and down the corridor, they stepped outside.

“Why were you antagonizing that man? He looks like he kills people for a hobby,” Oliver grumbled as they walked away.

“Kandace,” Cam said, attention focused on examining the name impressed into his new wristband.

Oliver chuckled, “I though Kandi was just her stage name.”

“I’m starved, let’s get something to eat,” Cam invited.