The NOVA Trilogy Boxed Set

by Jayce, Aven

  “The meatloaf will help soak up the liquor. You’re the one who will suffer, only eating a few crab cakes.”

  “We’ll see. Where to next?”

  “Let’s head over to Worship and drink our asses off,” Mera bellows.

  “Keep in mind that we have a lot of boxes to pack and move tomorrow. Let’s drink a little.”

  “We have time to sleep it off in the morning, don’t we? I thought we weren’t heading over there until noon, right?”

  “Yeah, but we don’t want to be dead all day. I don’t mind drinking, but we probably shouldn’t take it to the point of room spins or passing out.”

  “We haven’t done shit like that since college. Lighten up, Soph. Besides, you need to get drunk in order to approach someone to start a conversation. We’re trying to please your shrink.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for that tonight. Let’s just have fun and not think about my fucking therapist.”

  Mera flags down a cab and we head over to Worship. The nightclub is housed in an old church just west of downtown. The pews have been removed and the nave is now used for the dance floor. DJs set up their equipment each night around the altar, and there are two bars, one to each side of the nave. High tables and chairs surround the bar area, and people hang out at the back and side balconies where the pipe organ still stands. The ceilings rise to forty feet, which carries the music up, and bounces it back down to the dancers below. Red and purple lights float around the cavernous structure to the beat of the music, and on most nights a fog machine lets out a cloud that wisps around, sending people into a trance. The space is always loud, with vibrations pounding into your body every other second.

  The owner of the club left the religious statuary in each niche along the sidewall behind the bars. There are twenty in total, and as the evening progresses the statues’ eyes follow me throughout the club, just like in those old haunted house cartoons. Mera can always tell when I’m drunk because I mention the wandering eye statues to her. At that point, it’s usually time to head home.

  As we suspected, there are only about fifty people in the club. The early hours are the perfect time to have a few drinks and loosen up while there’s still access to the bartenders. Once the crowd piles in, we’ll have to wait in line for a good twenty minutes in order to get a drink.

  I smile at Mera as we pull out our I.D.’s and place them on the bar. “Two redheaded sluts please,” I say with a smile.

  The bartender is wearing a pinstriped, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up above his elbows. He has short copper red hair and is sporting a Snidely Whiplash curled mustache. Tattoos cover his arms and neck, disappearing under his shirt. Smiling back, he picks up our I.D.’s.

  “Mera and Sophia, sexy names for sexy women. I’m sure you girls know that redheaded sluts are full of sugar.”

  Male bartenders are overly flattering to women to land good tips, while female bartenders tend to sweet-talk guys for the same reason, and of course it works. “You’re right, we’ll have two slick panties please,” I say.

  Mera turns and looks at me, “Starting with some shots, my friend?”

  “You bet your little patootie we are.”

  The bartender laughs as he places the shots on the bar, “Bottoms up ladies.”

  I take mine and gulp it down, gagging for a second, my eyes watering from the heat in my throat. Mera’s glass is already empty when I place mine back on the bar. Somehow, her shots disappear in the blink of an eye, with no expression ever radiating from her face in the process. Glancing at me, she waits for my cue. I nod, waiting to hear what her choice will be for the next round. We’ve been taking turns ordering drinks for one another since the day we met.

  Mera leans in to the bar and places her hand on the bartender’s wrist, pulling him close to her. “My friend will have an STP, and I would like to have a buttery nipple. Please.”

  The bartender winks and places his free hand on Mera’s cheek. “One sweet tight pussy and a buttery nipple coming right up.”

  “You can be such a slut sometimes.”

  “What do you mean sometimes? I pride myself on my slutiness,” she replies with a grin.

  “Okay, but I can’t believe you ordered those. I thought we’d do a shot, then drink beer for the rest of the night.”

  “Is it the alcohol or the names that bother you? Because, you know I wasn’t the one who named them.”

  “The names are clever and amusing for newbies to the bar scene, but can you imagine being forty and ordering a sweet tight pussy?”

  “If you’re forty, and still hanging out in places like Worship, you probably have a lot more problems than sweet tight pussies.”

  Mera and I laugh as we watch the bartender finish our drinks. Mine is delivered with a cherry on top, and Mera seems pleased with the size of her concoction.

  “These should last us a while.” I place a twenty on the counter and we carry our drinks over to a table. There are already a few people rocking their hips, drunk, and acting like fools.

  “So Soph, Evan thought that you were jerking guys off at age nine, right?”

  “Something like that, why?”

  “Well, when did you first see a guy’s package? Did it scare you, or did it make you horny?”

  “Ha, you sound just like Evan. You know this is not normal girl conversation.”

  “Sure it is, what else are we going to talk about, shoes and hair? Come on, tell me.”

  “I’ll have you know that I think about shoes and hair all the time… but I suppose penises are more exciting than pumps.” I take another sip of my drink and think back to my childhood, a place that I don’t like to travel to when alcohol is involved. “A photograph, or in person?” I ask.

  “A real, in the flesh penis and balls.”

  “That would be my brother’s.”

  Mera sends a look of disgust my way and I can’t tell if she’s about to vomit or hand me money for more therapy sessions.

  “That doesn’t count. I would think that most people have viewed their sibling’s packages, either by accident or on purpose. It was by accident, right?”

  “Oh, yeah. You better believe it was, and to answer your question, yes it scared me.”

  “Thank God. I don’t need to hear anymore. I’m sorry I asked.”

  “I didn’t get over that experience until I landed my first boyfriend about five years later. It was even difficult to masturbate for a few years.”

  We drink two more shots, and have another round of sexy drinks. There are now well over a hundred people in the club, and we’re ready to join the ones who are on the dance floor. The music is significantly louder and we have to yell to hear one another.

  “Anyone stand out to you, Soph?”

  “Nope. Let’s just head in.”

  Mera laughs as I grab her arm and pull her into the middle of the nave. We stay close to one another. Mera enjoys closing her eyes when she dances, rocking around with her arms stretched above her head. I believe a child using a hula-hoop would make those same movements. It’s kind of cute in some strange way. I smile as I watch her jerk her hips in a circle and fling her head back. Her hair whisks all around, often flying into other dancer’s faces. She looks beautiful once again, and as she opens her eyes, she smiles back at me. I love her. I love her more than my parents and my sibling. I love her more than any boyfriend I’ve ever had. I want this love, and more, with a man.

  “I love you too,” Mera yells.

  “How did you know what I was thinking?”

  “I can feel it, and I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I won’t say what I want to say because it’s too common of a line in those girly movies.”

  “You mean the line that if we don’t find someone over the next few years, that the two of us should be together?”

  “Yeah, that one.”

  “Total girly movie.”

  We both laugh as I pull Mera to the edge of the dance floor where there’s more room for u
s to move.

  “You know I was just kidding, right?”

  “Of course, Soph. Could you imagine either one of us living without a long, throbbing stick.”

  “Speaking of throbbing things, we should really start to dance, let’s get into it a little more, especially since one of our favorite songs is playing. Listen.” I point up to the speakers as Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’s Can’t Hold Us blasts onto the dance floor from above.

  “Awesome!” Mera screams, as we raise our arms up and belt out the words to the song, along with the rest of the crowd.

  “Make sure you get us tickets if they come to The Pillsman Center.”

  “No problem.”

  Mera and I dance like we’re seeing them live. The music smashes through my body and I find myself getting lost in each powerful beat. My trance lasts until the end of the song, and when I open my eyes I see a face before me other than Mera’s.

  “I love the way you dance, and you look stunning in those boots and that dress.”

  I blush and peer around him to see Mera talking and dancing to someone as well.

  “I’m Alex, and that’s my friend Jay.” He points over to the guy with Mera.

  “Sophia.” I scream into his ear.

  He’s younger than most of the guys in the club, around nineteen, twenty at the most. He’s classier too, dressing in a dark grey button down shirt and a grey skinny tie. His shirt is tucked in to a tight pair of blue jeans, and a white studded belt finishes off his look. The jet-black buckle oxfords on his feet match his hair, which is short, yet long enough to comb forward, as a few bangs fall to the side. He’s slick and he knows it.

  We dance through more songs, getting close and dirty, then moving aggressively to the faster music. I bounce back and forth between rubbing my body against his, and Mera’s.

  I notice that the two guys have similar features and I’d be surprised if they weren’t brothers. Mera’s hookup is also wearing a button down shirt and tie; only his are a deep burgundy color, untucked, with light grey jeans. They have great smiles and seem harmless enough, maybe even a little innocent based on their age.

  I’m sweaty and in need of a break. “I need to stop or I’m going to collapse. Do you want to head up to the balcony for a while?”

  “Sure, let me tell Jay,” he says.

  He heads over to his friend and mutters something in his ear. I see them both look my way and they shake hands. I consider that a congratulatory handshake. Mera peers my way with a large grin and I give her a thumbs up. She nods and knows that a thumbs up from me means the guy will be a good fuck, but I have no further plans. If I had given her the hand fanning my face sign, she’d know the guy could have a future. I point to the balcony and she nods again as the guy, I can’t even remember his name, heads back over my way.

  Alex. It’s Alex. I’ll try to remember that.

  I take his hand and we wander up to the balcony, positioning ourselves on the side walkway. There’s a large crowd upstairs. People are dancing in the balcony area, and the side areas are packed from end to end. Swirls of smoke from the fog machine rise and settle in the space. The dancers around us are barely visible, yet there’s a clear view to the floor below. The smoke stays at eye level here based on the dancers below waving it up, and the ceiling fans above pushing it back down. When you bend slightly over the balcony, you’re back in the semi-clear air zone.

  We watch Mera dance and I laugh at the freedom she wields with her movements. Her evening fling can’t keep up, and he looks like he needs a break as well. I expect them both to be joining us soon.

  My arm moves back until I find Alex’s side. Pulling him closer, an urge takes over, and I need to feel him. I begin to move and thrust into his jeans to the music. He places a hand on each one of my hips and joins me in grinding to the beat. Most of the couples on the balcony are absorbed with the same movement, enjoying a small break from reality, jobs, bills, and school.

  I’m wet and I can feel him growing harder, longer against my ass. The dress I’m wearing is thin, and his jeans definitely don’t leave much room for his dick. We grind and moan in unison, watching the dancers below echo our movements.

  I turn around and un-tuck his shirt from his jeans. He leans in, resting a hand on the side of my neck, while placing soft kisses along the other. I tug on his belt and he steps closer, rubbing against me to the beat of the music.

  The smoke continues to swirl around, imitating a veil that envelops us; yielding privacy from the other couples. I notice a few bodies grinding, but no faces. My heart races as I reach below his shirt and unzip his pants. Turning back around, I feel him nuzzle close to my ass. He sweeps my hair to one side and continues to kiss my neck.

  The music feels louder, pounding along with the racing beats of my heart. I’m definitely aroused as I feel Alex’s hand slide up my right hip and under my dress. He slips a finger underneath my thong, and without any hesitation, slides it inside. I groan and lean against him. He slides in and out, gently rubbing my intimate spot as I whimper with enjoyment. Fuck that feels good.

  “Do you want more?” Alex says into my ear. “What do you want me to do?”

  “I want all of it,” I express back to him.

  He continues touching me everywhere under my dress, exciting every nerve in my body. I yank my thong down around my ankles and kick it off with my feet.

  “Is this okay?” he shouts over the music.

  “Go for it,” I say as I brush my hand down along the side of his face.

  There’s a muffled crinkling noise from a condom package, my skirt glides up, and a hard nudge separates my outer lips. He prods again, and uses his hand to find just the right spot, moving smoothly into my wet space.

  We exhale in unison, continuing to grind to the music. I wonder if anyone else in Worship is enjoying themselves as much as the two of us. I look up, gazing at the lights flickering onto us, watching them trace around the room.

  “Jesus, is this really happening?” Alex yells, as he rocks into me. He’s skilled and knows how to move while standing up. Some guys have a problem with it, but I can tell he’s experienced with the position, and he has the length to keep it inside.

  “You’re good,” I say, spurring him on to continue. “Keep going, move with me to the beat.”

  The warmth of Alex’s breath travels down from the back of my neck to my breasts. Every heavy puff of air stimulates my nipples, sending a quick rush down to my clit.

  “God, this is incredible,” Alex exclaims. “I need more,” he shouts in my ear.

  He pounds into me, and I feel an orgasm approaching.

  “I can feel you clench against me,” Alex gasps. “Hurry. You need to come.”

  His words send me into a spiral. My ears explode and the music deadens. The dancers below blur and move in slow motion. My insides clench and my legs tighten.

  “Fuck. I can’t wait. I can’t stop it.” Alex grabs the railing as he explodes. His pulsating flesh against my G-spot is the end for me. I exhale and grip the balcony railing as we’re both overcome with pleasure. My body convulses as sweat drips down between my back. Alex let’s his head fall onto my shoulder, trying to catch his breath.

  “That was great,” he sighs.

  He gently slides out and tucks himself below his shirt. I turn around and lower my skirt. We both smile. He holds onto my waist, biting my lower lip, as I make sure he’s secure in his pants before zipping them up.

  “I need to go to the bathroom to take care of things.”

  “No problem. Thank you, that was some of the best public sex I’ve ever had.”

  Alex grins, and looks surprised, as he gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I was hoping to be your first on the balcony,” he whispers.

  “You are the first… on the balcony,” I smile.

  “Find your friend, she’s probably worried about you,” he says, walking away with a wrinkled shirt, looking disheveled from our undertaking and disappearing quickly into the smoke. I bend d
own to search for my thong.

  A voice stirs from out of nowhere. “You’re so slutty.”

  I follow the legs in front of me to see Mera standing with her hands on her waist. She’s plastered and slurring her words. “Where did you come from?”

  “Jay and I were right next to you guys. Nice show.”

  “Well, it’s not the first time you’ve seen me fuck someone.”

  “Soph, he was flucking you. Did you at least talk to him?”

  “A little bit, and the fucking was mutual. What does it matter?”

  “Your shrink is going to be pl-pl-plissed, p-p-pissed about this one.”

  “Well, I don’t have to tell her everything.”

  “You do if you want to get help.”

  Mera starts to teeter in her heels so I let her hold onto my shoulder for support. “I’m not in need of sex therapy, I’m in need of family therapy.”

  “God Sophia, you’re a sex addict because you weren’t loved as a child. You found comflurt and selurity, se-security in other ways.”

  “I know, but I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I’m not hurting anyone. And it’s comfort, not comflurt.”

  “You might be hurtling yourself.”

  “You meant to say hurting, and I need to get you home.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  I let out a deep yawn as I stretch my arms above my head. The sun entering the window lights my naked body, and I realize I’ve fallen asleep on the living room sofa. It was a long trek home last night. We decided to walk from the bar back to Mera’s, not realizing how far away we were at the time. Alcohol will do that to you. My body’s sore from dancing, among other things. God, what was that guy’s name again?

  “Mera,” I call out, listening for a response. She’s going to be hung over after all of that hard liquor, and that means most of the work today will fall to me. I should’ve hired movers.

  Placing my feet onto the warm hardwood floors, I rise from my sleeping spot and search for my clothes. There’s nothing of mine in the room. Did I walk around last night naked? Didn’t I have a blanket covering me while I slept? I wasn’t that drunk when we got home, and now that I’m waking up, I remember I fell asleep in the guest bedroom, not here.