Well, creating my first oneshot, thought it'd be safer to start off again with a oneshot or two seeing as I'm incapable of writing anything more than 5 chapters long TT Lol. I thought I'd try a pairing that no one else seemed to have tried on here and I'm hoping that I haven't put people off the pairing because of my poor writing heh heh… -sigh-
Anywho, please review and tell me what you think : ) Even if you think it's a load of crap, please tell me : )
Disclaimer: If I owned Cowboy Bebop, Faye would dance for me always until she bled : ) and so I say, NO I SADLY DO NOT OWN THE SERIES!! TT
…And nor do I own 'Before I'm Dead' by the Kidneythieves
Provocative Goddess
An unfitting snarl of disgust graced delicate, angelic features as she walked into the decrepit bar, her golden crown of thick wavy locks flowing after her every movement.
'This is the best bar within a 10 mile radius? A run-down strip club?' she thought silently to herself, however the aforementioned sneer painted on her elegant lips voiced her thoughts clearly. Avoiding the patrons, or rather their sleazy smirks and hungry eyes and hands, she chose a seat near the bar. Away from the stage and near the entrance: she could make a quick exit if the patrons got a little too 'friendly'.
The bartender approached her—the only guy in the place that didn't look as if he was about to jump and ravage her. She ordered a Virgin Mary, deciding to keep her wits about her instead of take the risk of going out of her head on alcohol. Despite how much she wanted to right now.
He'd left her.
He'd finally admitted that there was no use in trying to keep something alive that would only hurt them both…except she was hurting even more now…
'Damn you, Spike. I hope some whore castrates you.' To say she was bitter about it would be an understatement. She was supposed to leave him.
'How could it turn out like this? A quick fuck and a goodbye? I thought you cared about me more than that, Spike…' Tears were starting to brim around her eyes and the stinging, burning feel starting to return to her chest and throat. She leant her beautiful face on one hand, elbow on the bar's counter and the other arm crossed in front of her trying hard to hide her face and tears. She didn't need a sympathetic talk with a bartender or one of the regulars coming up to her to offer some kind words like in some cheap movie.
'Pah, 'kind words'…probably lies through teeth for a grope or a blow job'…the last thing she needed was unwelcome eyes and hands offering fake compassion.
She was so consumed in her sorrow and feelings of revulsion for the surrounding customers that she didn't notice the lights dim and a gentle guitar's distortion growing louder and louder to a fractured guitar's tune.
'Oh great, a heavy metal strip club. Just what I need.' She thought as the tune began to pick up a beat that she couldn't help being attracted to.
'Oh what the hell…' she turned her eyes toward the small, shabby stage as curtains began to part and cheers, wolf-whistles and sleazy comments were hurled in the same direction.
Spotlights were pointed toward a single figure on stage, looking away from all eyes and faces. Short, vibrant purple hair cut an angle, black lace French knickers and a balconette bra with red lace details accentuated the curves and caressed and contrasted the elegant, creamy pale flesh of the woman. Chains wrapped and dripped about her frame, jingling and making soft 'chink' sounds whenever she breathed or moved even an inch.
Finally the rolling beats and melody of the music was accompanied a seductive female voice, and she moved away from her centre-stage position. She turned to a crowd of lust-demons, showing their shameless, sordid sexual desire like a badge of honour. Pretending as if this didn't bother her in the slightest, she wrapped a single, curvaceous, limber leg about the cold metal pole in the pronounced semi-circle of the stage.
…Night consumes light and all I dread, reminds me what to do before I'm dead…
The previously mournful, lone patroness' eyes were now transfixed on the lithe yet shapely body rolling and twisting about the hard, smooth metal, while the now harsher tinkling of the chains contorting about her frame seemed to flow with the fast-paced beat of the song.
Shaking her head, she re-collected her thoughts. She was thinking of torture methods for that son-of-a-bitch, Spike and definitely NOT perving a woman on stage in a metal strip club-come-bar.
…Sun reclines, eats my mind. Reminds me what to leave behind…
Leave behind. Forget Spike, she had better things she could focus on; like the sexually illicit scene the dancer was creating on the centrepiece of the club.
…Light eats night and all I never said reminds me what to do before I'm to see you, to touch you, to see you, to touch you…
The dancer continued to wrap her frame about cold steel pole, rubbing herself against it, giving harsh moans and a hoarse groans to comply with what little arousal she was experiencing. In truth, she felt nothing but pure abhorrence for the crowd before her.
'Maybe a fake attempt at an orgy would satisfy them.' She thought, mentally sneering. She scanned the crowd, twirling and dangling herself about the pole, searching for anyone worth her attention to assist her in giving her focus for at least a fake orgasm. If she could fake it, then she could leave. However she knew the chances of anyone like that in here were very slim. After all, all the men that came in here were perverted, sleazy chat up line-filled pathetic excuses for human beings. Any of them could only fit into one of five categories: stag night, randy teenagers looking to get off, lonely lowlives, egotistical perverts or pimps looking for new 'sales investments'.
Until her eyes met with, 'A woman? How…refreshing' she smirked. Maybe tonight wouldn't turn out so bad after all. Now she had a focus and pictures could flash through her head to help her get off.
…Reminds me what I never tried, the ocean wide salted red, reminds me what to do before I'm…
The eyes of the patroness wouldn't leave the dancer's form or movements…nor could she ignore her moans of pleasure. The dancer's hand traced lines of rolling beads of sweat down her torso; down from her perfect breast, down her toned stomach, down further and further and hungry eyes followed her hands movements.
The dancer spun back again, facing the pole, grazing herself against it, as if it would relieve some of her tension. Increasing the passion and power of each of her movements in time with the music's crescendo. She hurled her head back to reveal her beautiful crown of hair plastering with sweat to her visage, leading to the expression of contorted pleasure in her features. She couldn't have been faking any more.
The patroness' eyes continued to widen at the erotic display before her ignoring the rowdy patrons gawking at the dancer on-stage and the growing wetness, waves of goose-bumps and slight sweating she felt.
…To see you, to touch you, to see you, to touch you…
Loud music pumped its crescendo through the speakers. Then seductive, erotic jade eyes met transfixed, hungry sapphire eyes, and they became the only two in the room. This dance wasn't for anyone else, just for the lone patroness. All other time froze except the flowing movements of the dancer. Each could hear their own heartbeats in their head. Such eroticism…and without contact…the ultimate tease. She swayed her hips as if to hypnotise, back and forth, side to side moving behind the pole and giving one final, violent stroke against and a hoarse moan, climaxing in time with the raging music and giving some illusion as to whether said climax was genuine...
…The sun reclines…remind me. The desert skies…remind me. The ocean wide salted red reminds me what to do before I'm dead…
The spell had broken suddenly and she was gone. The seductive dancer and erotic display of unadulterated sexual entrancement had disappeared behind the curtain, leaving the patroness' senses to return to her. The sounds of disappointed customers and suggestive shouts returned to her, the taste of tomato juice in bad need of vodka returned to her, the feeling of shock returned to her.
Where had she gone? She had never felt such electric need for skin-to-skin touch before and she felt barren and deserted.
She panicked.
Scrambling quickly away from her barstool, she ran for the door between the bar and the stage, pulling it open in a frenzy and ignoring shouts of 'HEY! YOU CAN'T GO BACK THERE!!'
She ran and ran and ran and finally collided with that stunning savagely provocative creature of enticing beauty. The patroness stuttered and became too afraid to move, almost forgetting to breathe.
"Hehe, nice to see you again too", the silken voice came. "I'm Faye, and you are?" It was as if they had first met and the unadulterated, violent display of sexual need seen before had no effect on her whatsoever.
"J-J-Julia", she stuttered. Julia sat there on the ground looking upward at the standing form of this, Goddess of sexual passion. This, provocative Goddess. Kneeling before her, beneath her…
…To see you, to touch you, to feel you, to tell you…
Fin
Like I said at the beginning, please review even if you thought it was terrible!