Clutching my plastic water bottle to my mouth, I suck greedily on its sports cap, rehydrating as the need to pee from the 'E' grips my bladder.Strangers bodies blindly rub me as we dance, arms aloft, fingers shaping in the strobing neon.Her hands parting her vagina till I can see it's pink glistening interior, her golden liquid spews out, onto my breasts, up my throat and into my thirsty mouth.
Lifting my knee I stretch outwards and untie my laces, the bouncers eyes letch at my thighs as my little dress rides high up my waist. As I pull each boot back over my ankle socks, my knee bumps my boob as I gave him a look at the crotch of my hipster briefs. I adjust my purse that hangs from my shoulder to sit on my hip.
It's strap crisscrossing my chest, pulling it tight, pushing my slight titties out. My minds semi-numb already, my body begins to shimmer and shake as the drum and base edges through the floorboards, climbs my legs and rattles through my torso.
Euphoric in my own sweat, I open my body, arms wide aloft, leaning back, stamping my boots on shaky legs.
Droplets of condensation drip over me from the ceiling, reminding me, need to pee.
Crashing through the final double doors, we're engulfed in a sea of translucent blue and pink neon.
Banging thrashing drums beat into my skeleton as I relax into the love that surrounds me.Fleeing through the dancers, my bladder feels fit to burst, but I know it's secret.It's a joy to enter the chill of the ladies loo, a chance to cool my body, calm the rush, take a breath.Pulling my Dior Metal from my purse I pucker up at the big smudged mirror.Next stall girl smiles at me in a strange, in the mirror way, I shoot her a grin and begin replenishing my lip gloss. " "I do." I smile back at my friend as we enter the Cathouse.