by Jane Brooke
There they we’re, miles of legs, heels, screaming, whooping, twirling all around. My arms whipped to the silver disco ball. I twirled like a whirly bird, King the man, holding me, letting me do my wild child thing, him grinning, sweat covering my bod, white mop drenched with all eyes on the golden girl.
It was my element, my town, and then about 2 AM, the plug got pulled. I had nothing left and found myself sitting in our private booth as King chatted up some scrumptious young blond thing at the bar and, then I fell asleep.
When I woke up I was nestled in Kings-arm’s. My arms we’re wrapped around his powerful skull, King holding my high heels.
Perfect, perfect style, old Hollywood, the crowd parting, the princess tired, the hero protecting her, carrying her to her carriage, all eyes on fragile me.
I was cognizant of some of it, sleepy time and, then in the limo and me hearing the quiet of the engine as we prowled back towards N. Las Vegas, an entirely different world.
I was happy.
Me, I was snuggled into King’s chest and my head nuzzling into the cleft of his neck, his power packed arms around my shoulder. It was in my tired mind, a perfect movie ending.
I felt safe, protected, knowing no one could hurt me ever again, here, there in my buddies arms, the full moon bathing us in moonlight, streaming though the open sun roof.
Parked in front of Chang’s, 3 AM, no gun shots, screams tonight, heels in my hands, King walking me to the door. He offers to take me up, you know, a kiss good night, white sheets under my pointed chin.
“No thanks King, sooooo tired, let’s chat manana. Love you.”
And, then a present. Oooh goody. I love presents.
King offs two fifty large on me, many C-notes.
I do not protest, he knows, I know that I deserve presents, no ribbons.
I hug the cash against my no tits, clutch too, open the security gate and layer a smasheroo kiss on King. He grins, respect, love, comradeship are in his black eyes.
I give him a toodle-doo, close the gate, tip toe barefoot up the stairs. I make the turn and lean against the wall.
There it is my world, bathed in golden light bulbs from my old lamps, and a translucent blue glow from Stella and Gumbos fish tank.
The full moon is softly kissing my loft through the skylights, soft, a citrine world that I have created, me knowing now, especially now how dear it is all to me.
Then I hear this tick, tick, tick sound and see this little golden ball of fur racing across the loft. I drop the clutch, dough, heels to the pine, just in time, for she’s air born, a hurtling topaz missile of love.
Bijou hits my arms, does the flop, twists up, and in a panic of love, covers my face with kisses, pink lapping tongue, chirps, yips, sweet growls, frantic, wild, filled with love, just so glad to see me, as I am her.
I hold her dear. This is what pure and unequivocal love is, and now I have someone that loves me, is glad to see me, every time, every moment, and I love her.
I Kiss her all over, place her to the floor. She does circles around me, she wants something.
BINGO, the bathroom.
Girls and their bathrooms.
So I walk across my loft, to her bed, my bed, see no poop and sit on the side of the bed. She leaps onto my lap. I hold her tight. She is safe, I am safe. We are very lucky girls.
“No Poop, Huh...OK just a sec...Let me get comfy...”
“Pant’ Pant, Pant, Pant”...Dog speak, I swear she’s smiling.
I stand and let that little black dress spill to my ankles, nude, I’m feeling good.
I move to my armoire, throw on a extra large black hoodie, old worn, down to my knees Have my movie, Sports Center Tvoed for later. I’m so comfy. I look at my clutch, wonder about my Beretta. I’m tired of death, blood, pain, deceit, hoodlums and gutter snipes. Looking at Bijou, I get smile. I smile back.
I put on my fav and faded old blue Levis, the ones with the holes on their knees.
I have forgiven the color blue.
I reach down, and find my Minnie Mouse slippers, the ones with the big mouse ears on them. Love those, fur lined, slip them on.
I grab my Zippo, a smoke, move across the loft, check on Gumbo and Stella and their kid, Blanche, turn the page.
I think their snuggling, maybe sleeping. Do they sleep? Got to Google that later.
Sooo, down the stairs girl friends go.
“Click, click, click.”
I am starting to love those tiny little sounds, her foot prints.
She is my sister, I love her, never had one before.
Out the door, I smile as Bijou clips over to a private corner, near a dumpster.
I do not watch for she needs her privacy. She does her business, looks at me. I get it. She digs my respect as she runs around the alley, sniffing everywhere.
Then, after a few clock ticks, she moves to my feet, lays down next to me. I smile and smoke, look at the moon, a yellow globe that is telling me that there perhaps is a new meaning to my life.
Telling me and I have a family now, that I love, and they love me.
I am so glad to be alive, maybe there’s a new softness in the world, the Vegas World, my world.
Jane. Vegas PI’s world.
XXX
To be continued.
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