by Nicole Hite
Lee grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze as we made our way to the float.
“I guess we don’t have to worry about sneaking them on the float now,” Lee said.
“Excellent point,” I agreed.
“I can’t believe this is your first parade.”
“Believe it, Daniels. So why are there so many people dressed up as kings and queens? Seems a little off considering.
“It’s said that the Rex Krewe is the only group who can denote a true King and Queen of Mardi Gras. It’s been a long-standing tradition that the kings and queens represent Grand Duke Alexis RomanoffGrand and his arrival to New Orleans in 1872. After the destruction and devastation from the Civil War, the unnamed Krewe of New Orleans, an organization who orchestrates a lot of these parades, wanted to honor Rex on his arrival. Hence, the parade was established, and that particular Krewe is forever called the ‘Rex Crewe. It’s said to be one of the originals.”
“Why do you know this kind of stuff?” I looked at him amazed.
“I think it’s important to know your heritage and city, especially if you live in New Orleans. Some may say it’s a trashy place to be in at times, but I think it’s perfect. There is so much history and tradition. My question, how did you get us on the Krewe of Bacchus float? I’m dying to know.”
“Well, I pulled some strings for them in 2010 to get Drew on their float. Now I know why he was dressed up as a gold Caesar. For the longest time I thought they just wanted him to resemble a shiny cupid. Now I know the real reasoning.”
“Yeah, but you don’t have him on the float this year. What gives?” Lee questioned.
“I may have promised to get him back on the float as soon as they win a super bowl title,” I grimaced with a slight smile.
“You are evil woman! You know damn well that will be years,” he busted out laughing.
“Yeah, well, they are still holding out hope.”
“Well, I think it’s bad ass.”
“I had wanted the team to have one, but I didn’t realize I couldn’t just slap them on a float. I guess that was my fault for not researching a little more. Who knew?”
“Well now we don’t have to suffer with fifty or so hungry, horny, football players. Thank goodness for your lack of efficiency,” he chuckled.
“Oh shut up!” I chuckled.
As we reached our destination, we are quickly whisked away in opposite directions in order to change into satin and sequined costumes. Looking down at my apparel, I about died at the absurdity of these outfits. In the background I could hear the clanging of the brass band, pre-gaming us before climbing aboard our float.
My giant purple, satin pants were clearly a one size fits most. They were partially obscured by my giant gold and green tunic. Blazed across my chest was the emblem of the Bachuus Krewe, not to mention several gilded fleur-de-lis. As soon as they handed me my hat/mask, I nearly doubled over laughing. Nestled between my fingers was a sparkling green crocodile.
“I look like king cake threw up on me,” Lee laughed hysterically as he made his way to me.
“Laissez les bon temps rouler, baby!” I cheered.
“I can’t believe you actually got that out. I’m pretty impressed, Dove.”
“Trust me. I’ve been practicing. I didn’t want to disappoint you,” I gleamed.
“You could never disappoint me.”
Maybe Gage was right; maybe Lee really was serious about us. Perhaps I should be thinking more about it myself.
As we finally loaded the giant float, I had to mentally prepare myself. Soon, we would be thrust into a bead battle, never to be the same again. Making our way to a designated area, we kicked our way through boxes and boxes of beads, bells and coins with the Greek God’s face representing the Krewe.
The boxes surrounded us; protecting us from any retribution should it come our way – a shield of sorts. There had to have been thousands of bags of beads in front of us. I had once heard that in any given Mardi Gras season nearly 25 million beads are thrown. That’s completely insane. That is a lot of boobs jumping around!
As the float roared to life, we were jostled a bit with its initial jolt. Almost losing my balance, Lee gripped my shoulders to stabilize me.
“Easy there, Dove,” he chuckled as he placed my mask on my face.
“Thanks,” I grinned, not exactly wanting to move from his grasp. I straightened his mask as well as we began to move forward. Turns out it’s required by law that float riders wear masks at all times. Who knew?
Also, thankfully, there were glorified port-a-potties on board. Probably to assist those riders who drank a little too much. There was no shortage of alcohol either. Crates of Bourbon, Whiskey, Fireball, Tequila and Vodka were stashed for our seven-hour trip.
I hadn’t known this, but the parades never actually go down Bourbon Street. The streets are so narrow that the width of the floats became a health hazard after a while. Or so they say. I think it’s because the Quarter is the one place were boobies for beads isn’t totally shunned upon. Fifty or so parades roll down neighboring streets and are “supposed” to be PG-13. We’ll see about that.
Unlike the dancing Crayons or Presents in the Macy’s Day Parade, we bounced around like Jack-in-the-Boxes. Our shiny costumes glimmered in the street lights as the beads reflected a disco ball of colors against the fiberglass float. We were definitely a band of misfits.
As we approached the corner of Napoleon, taking a wide right turn without float pulled by a loud tractor, the sea of people come into view. Right in that moment, I felt like royalty. A rush of excitement and a little panic coursed through my veins. Seeing the thousands of excited faces, reaching and grabbing for plastic beads, screaming our adoration was such a blast. It sort of reminded me of our grocery store adventure, only on a larger scale.
Our ride rocked back and forth as we crept along. Some patrons viewing our parade had ladders and boxes atop in order to get ample amounts of beads. I had to switch up my throwing arm after a while; I was starting to hit kids and babies in the face. What does that say about me as a person? I didn’t intentionally try to hit anyone I just had horrendous aim. The trees were littered with glittery beads as we rolled on.
“I think I just pelted that cop on his horse,” I grimaced.
“That’s okay, I just hit a dad carrying his kid on his shoulders. What the hell are they doing out right now?” we bellowed in laughter.
The bags of beads and trinkets seemed endless, which was great considering I had poor judgment on parceling out my loot. Every once in a while, people would toss us beads. I’d sling them around my neck as we trucked it down the road.
As the floats rolled by, you could hear the occasional crunch and crack of shrapnel that had, neither made it into the arms of the patrons, or were caught by riders on the floats. The further down the route we went, the heavier the stench of alcohol became. We witnessed all walks of life; granny’s dress in body paint, men in tutus and banana hammocks. Truly all walks of life came to bask in our glory.
We were turning onto a new street when the gentleman next to me offered me a flask of something exceptionally potent. Thankfully he was tethered to the float, a preemptive precaution for those who drank and threw.
“Drink up, baby!” the, very intoxicated, gentleman said.
“I’m good, but thank you.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t want to drink from my flask?” he pushed.
“Naw man, we don’t drink,” Lee stepped in.
“Why the hell not?” he slurred.
“Don’t need alcohol to have a good time, man. Besides, I want to remember ever minute of this. You go on ahead and drink up my friend.”
I hated to encourage someone to drink, but the guy seemed a little pushy. A little coddling usually gets them moving in the opposite direction. Worked like a charm.
“Suit yourself! More for me!” he cheered as he hurtled fistfuls of beads.
As soon as Captain drunky-mcghee found someone else to pe
ster, we got back to enjoying ourselves.
“I’m having so much fun!” I squealed as I grabbed his arm, trying not to fall. My smile was wide as the excitement of it all swept over me.
“I’m never going to forget this night,” Lee yelled across the loud noise of the tractor and fans.
“I feel like a rock star,” I screamed, “by the end of the night, you’ll be asking for my autograph.”
“It’s crazy, I feel like they are calling my name.”
“They just want your beads, baby,” I laughed.
“I think you just called me baby,” he eyed me.
“I said,” trying to recover, “They want your beads, butthead.”
“I don’t think so, Dove. You definitely called me baby,” he grinned.
“Whatever. I was swept up in the buzz of the crowd.”
“Keep telling yourself that, BABY.”
Little shit!
Nearly seven hours later, we were spent. It was around midnight by the time the giant crocodile float rolled into the hangar-esk area. We decided to forgo the Bacchus ball, instead opting to stroll the crowded Bourbon Street. The night was still young after all. We handed our costumes in and retrieved our belongings. Such an amazing experience and the night was just starting.
As we pushed our way through the crowds, we stopped from time to time to take in the atmosphere. The sky was filled with twinkling lights, and the obnoxious glow of the neon bar signs, now open twenty-four hours until Mardi Gras ended. Plastic cups, beer bongs and beads littered the streets as the balconies were filled with countless partygoers.
“I wonder how you get up there?” Lee had to practically yell into my ear.
“I think you have to sleep with someone pretty scuzzy to get up there,” I joked.
“Then perhaps it’s a good thing we’re not up there,” he laughed.
“Naw, I think you either have to have big bucks or some sort of corporate connections. Although, I could take my chances and flash them and see where that gets us,” I gave him a wink.
“You would never do that,” Lee looked shocked.
“Are you sure about that? I’m feeling pretty indestructible tonight.”
“I bet you fifty bucks you won’t flash them. Not even to get on the balcony either, just to do it for shits and giggles!”
The sky grew dismal as we stood debating my level of debauchery. I could hear the low rumbles rolling in followed by the electrical streaks of lightening in the distance.
Before I could change my mind, I gripped the hem on my shirt and under cups of my bra. Without a care in the world, I tugged, sending my girls to spill out of their confines. Immediately Lee looked away, trying to be a gentleman of sorts.
“Stop being such a pussy, Daniels!” I screeched as the beads flew at me from left and right. I dropped my shirt and bra back into place, as I spun around to see a very shocked Lee.
“I wasn’t being a pussy, I just…” he started, but it was incredibly hard to hear. “Come with me, please?”
“Of course, but you owe me fifty bones!” I giggled.
“You’ll get your money, Dove. Don’t you worry about that.”
We pushed our way through the crowd, just as the sky unleashed its wickedness. Clutching Lee’s hand, we took off in search of his truck. Just as we reached the truck, Lee whipped me around and threw me up against the truck.
Without any warning, he pressed his damp lips to mine. Demanding my attention, he threw my body against the door. I could feel the deprivation behind his kiss all the way down to my toes. He parted my lips gently, dipping his tongue into my waiting mouth. Circling our tongues, he shoved his hips against mine.
The primitive moves of his tongue and body language took me surprise. He had always taken things at a relatively slow pace, until tonight. God, it was such a fucking turn on too. There was desperation between our breaths as we tugged and pulled on each other’s bodies. I desperately wanted this outlaw. I wasn’t even sure the morality or ethics of it all would change my mind at this point either.
Lee stepped back, leaving my lips bereaved of his softness. I’m pretty sure I let out a juvenile moan at his departure. I wanted, no, I needed more.
“There’s your kiss in the rain, Dove,” he said as he pressed his forehead to mine.
I tried desperately to catch my breath, but I felt nothing would return the oxygen that was taken by Lee. Strangely enough, I never wanted it back again. He could take it, take it all for all I cared. I just wanted him right now.
We continued to stand in the rain, even though we were just outside the truck. We were lunatics, there was no denying that.
“Finish your statement from before. You said you weren’t a pussy, you just…” I began as I clutched his biceps for dear life. I didn’t want him to retreat from me. Not now.
“I was going to say, that’s not how I want to see these beautiful breasts. I want them to myself. I want to bask in their beautiful glory, not in front of a bunch of drunken dipshits. It was more for me, then you,” he chuckled.
The air escaped my lungs as his brutal honesty hit me like a ton of bricks.
“That’s it, Lee. Take me home.”
“Why? I thought we were having a good time,” he looked miserable at the mention of going home.
“Very well, if you don’t want to see them up close, that’s fine. I’ll gladly put them to bed myself,” I grinned.
“Oh! Fuck! Let’s go!” he blurted as he raced around the truck to open my door.
This really was going to be the best night ever.
As soon as we reached the house, we raced through the door and up the stairs. Lee slammed the door behind him as we both began to slow down our pace. If we could have had raunchy, naughty sex in the street, the both of us probably would have, but neither of us wanted that. This was bigger than that.
We were soaking wet, but the lust in his eyes was not lost. We had crossed a line we had no intension of crossing but there was no turning back.
Stepping forward, Lee framed my face with his palms, pulling me up against his body. Delicately brushing my cheeks, he pushed away the wet strands of hair clinging to my flushed cheeks. My fingers inched their way to his hips as I wrapped my arms around his waist. He drew me in, mere inches from his lips. Biting his bottom lip, I could tell he was contemplating taking this further. We both knew there was no way we could deny this any longer.
Lee closed what was left of the gap between us hovering his lips over mine, yet not touching. For the first time since we had met, I could sense his apprehension through the labored breaths he tried to hide. The inhale and exhale of pants, hit my lips, willing me to make the move.
“Kiss me, Lee,” I whispered so quietly even I wasn’t sure if I had said them aloud.
That’s when he pressed his warm lips to mine. Even though every bone in my body said this was a bad idea, my lips felt otherwise. His tongue tangled with mine as his ample bottom lip sucked on mine. He tasted like heaven – mint and cherry Chap Stick mixed with his signature oil and pine. I savored ever last drop as my nails dug into his hips.
Restraining myself from throwing him on my bed, surprised even me. Lee ran is hands under my neck, begging me to give him more of myself. Just when I thought I had nothing more to give, he ran his fingers in my wet tussles forcing a moan to escape my mouth. Our bodies collided with one another, where I couldn’t tell if we were even two people. We were one soul, intertwined with the other.
Why had I denied myself this, and why had Lee allowed me too?
Before we tumble into a heated mixing pot of desire, Lee swung me around, pushing his manhood against my back. Twisting my head to the side, I kiss his neck still begging for that connection. With each sweep of my tongue, the more I could feel the slow build of arousal within. Tossing my head to the side with one flick of his finger, he begins to pepper my neck with kisses, dragging his perfect lips across my skin.
My entire body comes alive as he runs his calloused hands from my
thighs, to my hips and slowly creeping toward my breasts. He traces every line and curve as he snakes his way up my body. As he reaches my breasts, he molds and kneads the girls through my wet t-shirt.
“We need to get you out of these wet clothes, bebe,” he hums into my ear, nipping at my earlobe.
Whimpering, I oblige. Lee raises my hands above my head while his hands cascade down my body, tickling my damp skin. Fingering the hem of my t-shirt, he grips the wet fabric and pulls the material over my pebbled flesh. As the cloth tip-toes off his fingertips, Lee takes my hands and wraps them around his neck.
Arching my back, the fluid strokes of his hands melt across my cool skin as they descend back down to my breasts. Lee folds the delicate pink lace away as he marvels at my already pert nipples. Just like my bra, my skin is the perfect shade of pink along with my nipples. I can tell he likes what he sees from the growing sensation in his pants against my backside.
“They are just as perfect as I had imagined they’d be. So glad I didn’t look earlier.”
With both hands, he begins to caress my swollen flesh as he breathes heavily into my neck. Moans escape my lips as I try desperately not to scream while he pinches the tips. Lee lets out a throaty chuckled as he sees, feels and hears my reaction to his actions. The rumbles from his laugh make his chest bounce, creating a slight smile before I bite my bottom lip.
I need more of him. I need to feel his touch on my body – all of it. He somehow reads my mind as both hands roam my torso as they move to the button of my jeans. Unlatching the fasten, Lee doesn’t remove my pants like I thought he would – hungry for me as I am for him. He takes his time, running his thumb across the lace of my panties, trying to decide whether to keep going.
I allowed my hand to drop to meet his hesitant hand. Taking his warm fingers, I push his palm across my tepid skin and slide them into my panties.
“Touch me, Lee,” I moan into his damp neck.
Giving him permission, I guide him to my slick, pink skin. I curl my fingers over his, directing them to my sensitive sex. Feeling his long digits make their way inside of me, I let out a pleasurable moan.
