Pheremones

My eyes are closed and I am feeling the music swirling through me. Warm and cool flesh, alternately, presses close and I am in Heaven, if there is a Heaven for the wicked.

Britt dances over, runs her hand up my bare arm, and plants a noisy, wet kiss on my left cheek, then falls in to dance with the rest of the group. Lash has just rolled up Type O Negative’s “My Girlfriend’s Girlfriend” and I chuckle softly and grab Britt’s hand and lick her index finger from palm to tip. She fakes a shudder, we giggle, then keep dancing.

I feel a hand on my waist, caressing the naked flesh above the waist of my skirt, and I turn to see Dave behind me. Dave smiles impishly, and I blow a kiss to him and his beautiful Morganna, who are dancing behind me. They turn their attention back to one another and I suppress a sigh as I watch the fluidity and barely hidden passion of their dance.

As I turn my head back, I catch sight of Jes out of the corner of my eye. I wave her over, and she shakes her head. It’s at that moment that I notice the tall, lovely boy who slides up behind her and wraps an arm possessively across her waist. Oh, Jes is on a roll tonight…and I am a bit jealous.

I close my eyes again. As I feel myself drift down into the music, something…something causes me to gasp. A chill runs up my spine, and I feel goosebumps raise over my entire body, even my face. My eyes flash open, and I am scanning the crowd again, looking for something…someone…out of place. I am still wrapped in the protective cocoon of half-naked dancing bodies. The hair on the back of my neck starts to prickle…

“Pheromones”

I chuckle softly to myself, remembering that I am dancing amidst several dozen vampires and mortals, and that my hypersensitivity is probably due to pheromones. Sometimes, I can taste them…which makes the atmosphere even more… charged. I slip my tongue between my slightly parted lips, tasting the metallic tang of blood and lust, then close my eyes and dance.

Lash has changed the music, which slows the throbbing crowd down just a little, and people start to move off, looking for refreshment in whatever form they take it.

I climb the hill to the gazebo. My heels click a staccato rhythm on the stones and it echos against the rock walls enclosing the little hide-away. Its single candle lights the interior just enough for me to see it’s empty. I curl up on a bench, my bare legs tucked up under my bottom, arms laid out across the back. The breeze is delicious…warm and moving just enough to chill the perspiraton on my skin. I drop my head back and close my eyes. I am intoxicated, and without the aid of absinthe.Image

“You are a brave one, sitting up here all alone.”

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