Post by DollfaceZoli on May 2, 2009 4:10:11 GMT -8
[Starts in alleyway but can end up anywhere else. ]
www.polyvore.com/black_widow2/set?id=6781038
Fuck.. I hate that song..
[/color][/i]www.polyvore.com/black_widow2/set?id=6781038
Fuck.. I hate that song..
The rough backing of brick and cement caught the fabric of her bra strap, as well as at the fabric of the writhing five foot tall prey against her. The hand of a certain copper haired ne'er-do-well pushed at the fabric adorned crotch of a nervous and blushing brunette, who just so happened to be getting the dream of a lifetime fulfilled in a dirty alley behind a club. However, were one to investigate the scene further, a few very important aspects would come to light. One, said copper hairs hand was manicured to a fault, each nail perfectly and meticulously trimmed, and glossy to boot, the cuticles defined immaculately, no imperfections to speak of. The second detail being that attached to this wondrous set of nails, was a lithe and feminine hand, which led to a slender, well defined arm, which in turn was jointed to a shapely shoulder, and continued on to pectorals coming to a round and voluptuous shape. As Zoli broke apart from the heated kiss the two shared for breath, she couldn't help but think how sumptuous her current companies breasts were. Yes, if you haven't guessed yet, Our favorite copper anti-hero wasn't quite fishing in the male side of the pool tonight... rather she was... finding a craving for sushi more appetizing.
For the appreciation of a previous show, a handy slip of the wrist had left the dark-skinned stripper near naked in an alleyway with a rather aggressive female Mabacre attending to her bodies call, lip gloss and peach lipstick almost smearing together between the friction and moisture their mouths exhibited to their counterparts. A heavy embrace pulled the two closer, and as the darker woman pulled away from the wall she registered the sound of a brief rip as the silk of her skirt, the only outer fabric remaining on her, tore somewhat across her hip. If her lips weren't glued to the face of a woman with whom she was almost fainting over the fact that she was even with at that moment, an semi-audible "Fuck." would have been made out by the brunette. Hardly language for a lady, would have been another Macabre's response, as for this particular one, it turned her on. Standing in the world, but away from her brother, and the uptight expectations of family, or anyone else who might actually SAY something about it to either of the aforementioned, she couldn't honestly care less what the stripper, lips parted in a moan, said.
Besides that, grinding their chests together amongst other things, she was much too caught up in the passion of the moment to care anyway. The gorgeous brunette woman with whom she was currently lip-locked with broke the embrace they held with their tongues, long enough to move her head back, chocolate cheeks flushed and an eyebrow quirked. Before laughing, Zoli's face almost went completely predatory with the look that she gave the dolled up stripper. It was both comical AND arousing, and if she hadn't transformed into a more vicious version of her current form, she was sure that said arousal would have moved into a more private area, and would be running down legs as long as the San Francisco bridge. Instead, a simple case of dripping panties was all that was afforded to the perverted Macabre, as she groped the ass of her soon to be dinner through said skirt, and other accoutrements with a grip that was sure to leave a red hand-print for a couple days in her sweet strippers skin.
A loud gasp echoed off the walls of the trashy alley, before one of the two came to realize how dangerous the other , whose hands worked like magic against her clit, actually was. A curt show of fangs from the more mischievous of the two, ensured that a certain naturally weak female stripper knew damn well what was about to happen. Before the current menu course of them could attempt to get away away, with but three words and another moan between them she assured the woman's ever growing suspicions.
"Scream for me..."
From then there was no fluctuation of neither sound nor movements amongst the shadow adorned alleyway. Only a sense of loss as the walls breathed, screaming the story of the woman who was once pinned against them in a lustful display, but had now become a splattered array of red in the darkened space. If those walls could truly talk, they would not bother to cry out for help, there would be no justification in attempt, there was nothing left of this woman to revive. No blood left in her body to pump through a now shriveling heart. A lack of air to put pressure to lungs that would no longer rise and fall. If the walls could speak they would divulge nothing. Because there was nothing left to.
Heels, red and black, mimicked the walls with their mocking clatter. Out of the shadows they stepped, something said walls would never accomplish, into the adoring spotlight of a street lamp. Trailing upwards, a dainty, painted hand trailed slitheringly across once glossed lips, removing the traces of a nights binging, only to secure the evidence between those slightly curved lips. "Leave no trace on that pretty little face." A fathers twisted nursery rhyme yet to be forgotten.
"To dance or not to dance, that is the.." Quiet self whispering held mid-air at the interruption of a broken bra strap, descending across the milky flesh of a sleek shoulder. Distraught showed behind hazel eyes at their fallen partner in crime, but only for a moment, once groping hands now slipping the red, breast constricting fabric, presenting a mild farewell with a blow of a kiss as it was dropped into a nearby mailbox "You truly were a magnificent piece of work." A favorite of sorts now lost. A shopping opportunity gained.
