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Night On the Prowl

The waiter brought second decorated flask to their table. Pat dipped his third spicy egg roll into the soy sauce and gobbled it down with a slice of barbecued pork. Alex maneuvered his chopsticks expertly on his chicken and broccoli dish, while chuckling with over whether Mets would have a victory season. He filled their small cups to wash the food down with a couple rounds of Baiju.

“Excuse me, we didn’t order these.”

Alex said to the waiter serving a bowl of fortunate cookies.

“They’re complimentary with meals here.”

Patrick informed.

He looked reminiscently at the authentic sweets.

“Haven’t had these since I was nine,” he remarked out of nowhere.

“I never really favored them I prefer the sweet dumplings.”

Alex picked a cookie from the bowl. “Hold on, your fortunate is inside.”

Pat uttered making him baffle for a few seconds.

“Oh right, the piece of paper they stuffed inside.”

He broke it half riding it of its content until Pat snatched the strip of paper away before he would crushed it without reading it first. “You don’t believe in destiny, what you don’t believe shall become real when jades in water is what you see.”

Pat read the sentence word by word to try and grasp the meaning.

“Bunch of horsecrap,” Alex remarked crunching on the pieces of cookie. They were as tasty as he remembered but he wasn’t a gullible child anymore to waste a second riddling himself. “Careful, that insult could come back to haunt you.”

Pat narrowed to him half serious.

“Will I suddenly die from food poisoning?” He reverted lightly laughing to himself.

Pat gave a casual shrug.

“I wouldn’t want to have to write ‘I told you so’ in the arbitrary.”

“It was right about one thing, though. I don’t believe in any hocus pocus about destiny or faith nothing but charlatan rubbish.” He stated dryly.

“As long it was right about something.” He grimaced mockingly. “Jades in water? Now that’s a brainbuster. They say it’s suppose make sense in the long road.”

Alex shook his head at him and crushed the strip of paper in his fist.

“I was really happy to hear Aunt Lilly is doing better,” Pat said softly with all the genuine care in the world he had for the lady, it broke his heart when she first got ill. Kindness and love exuded from his Aunt Lilly like no other woman. Since he and Alex were young, she was their favorite to spend time with many times he even wished his mother would be more like her.

“Man, I prayed for nothing but her every day.” He sighed rubbing his forehead.

“She’ll be pleased you’re faith in religion is restored.”

Pat mouthed refilling their cups of Baiju.

“To our wonderful Lilly’s health,”

Pat raised his drink and Alex reciprocated.


The racket fluctuated through not-so-peaceful night the bass of metal strings everything it had bashed over the balcony. The rock-busting, high tunes were again disturbing Gina while reading her notes. Shut the fuck up! She spat out of the blue. It was after nine and had to prep herself for Derek’s conference in just two days. She already moody from an evening of having Sara on her tail, asking her opinion on which style of wedding dress would suit her best. No doubt, one that comes along with a tape for her big mouth.

She drew in a long breath then got off the bed closing her laptop for second, she stretched her weary arms. A lousy, depraved sensation struck her which always carried her to the kitchen’s top cupboard. She disappointed to find it vacant not a potent supplement in sight to help demolish agitation. “Curses, I could have sworn I restocked the shelf with some Merlots a week ago,” she mumbled cringing in frustration. Walking pass her living room window a flicker of dark purple lights reflected in the glass illuminating the thin, beige curtains.

She swept them to the side and gazed down to the far end of the street where Venom was lively jamming all the way up and down the block. A couple of rusty-bearded guys were entering the doors. The fellow on the right had on jeans jacket with white patches spelling out the suggestive word trouble.

Villainous curves formed on her mouth, ditching the grumpiness she went and slid open her closet.


“You have any Coronas back there?” The medium height bartender wiped the sink clean then threw the cloth over his shoulder to fetch a bottle from the fridge. He popped it open pivoting to the customer with the order. In a split second his jaw dropped so low it resembled that of a horse. “Sweet mother of Moses,” was all could tip from his drooling tongue.

She took the bottle from unsteady hand taking a good gulp before letting out a sharp refreshing ‘ahh’ her scarlet lipstick remained unflawed as she uttered a slow “thank you,” to him.

Poor testosterone-filled soul tied the cloth around his waist to spare him any embarrassment in that department. What cruel taunting faith did he deserve to put this tousled haired, sexy dame in font him. How on earth was he suppose to concentrate on serving customers while a glorious pair tits and striking green eyes were about to blind him?

“Nice ink,” she glared in fascination at his naked arms covered with an expressive array of tattoos. “I can see it clearer from this level.” She said making him baffle. Taking a closer look at her he was finally able to place her. The hot chick from the balcony, he never forgot that morning he got a glimpse of her. She was high above him as if she was sent from heaven. She even caught him red-handed with indecent staring. He was surprised she wasn’t bothered by the scene although he certainly wasn’t in the least bother by her. Typical posh dames living in this upbeat section of city would have run like frightened kittens, thinking he was some stalker or something and dialed for the police right away.

“It’s you? Ah-h, sorry, I don’t know your name,” he told her a bit hesitantly.

“Call me, G.G.”

She replied with a serpent’s smile.

Put your tongue back into your mouth and play it cool. Her inner mentor voice advised her critically. Of course she wasn’t in for all-nighter this time just a quickie-well her version of a quickie specifically. Seductive perfectionism will have to be left behind. Van Helen’s thunderous, petrifying lyrics bounced through speakers. She didn’t have turn to catch the ‘checking out’ glances she was getting behind her. But she had already hooked her fish and was reeling him in as we speak.

He nodded his head compliantly giving her a besotted grin.

“Whatever you say, G.G, you can call me, Donnie. I was hoping I would get chance to see you again.”

He mentioned.

“Hope no further, here I am,” she grinned.

“I guess this explains why you were leaving this place at so late, do you work around the clock?”

“Nah, I take late shifts sometimes.”

“And when do you get a break?”

“Any time I choose, basically.”

“Ah…” She chimed, moving in closer to him her strong perfume intoxicated in weak nostrils. “Well, how about taking one now?” Her coated mascara and intense gaze sent vibrating signals hitting in the masculine core of his being. Whether in athletic gear or latex-clad leather upon of spiky heels, she was irresistible to anything that matched the description ‘male and straight’.

He leaned in almost making contact with her nose.

“That depends, G.G, will it be worth it?”

She made a sly smirk and whispered her intentions explicitly into his left ear. Before she finish he was calling for some guy to his shift for tonight.


She unzipped her black leather skirt before swaying her hips. She fondled with her breasts through the red laced bra played with her nipples from inside. Her plaything sat on the bed flexing his fingers deep into the silk sheets it’s not every girl does a strip tease with so sultry. Her version of a quickie was more fun which was his purpose in her apartment tonight. She rode up her skirt stalking closer to him in her dark laced pantyhose and black, spiky stilettos. She motioned the heels gingerly on his chest to push him on his back climbing on his waist her legs on opposite ends ready to please herself. Her shapely thighs rippled like a snake undulating to the sound a flute, fluid and skillful.

“Why all this fabric?” she ripped off his shirt and ran her fingernails on chest.

Her plaything underneath her stuttering moans of pleasure holding her hips as she moved fourth faster and faster. Bending backwards while gripping his knees she pushed her pelvis forth stroking hard and quick for great impact.

“Holy shit,” he gasped noisily. Her fingers moved to his open mouth to fill it. He tasted of beer and nicotine, a harsh combination. He licked her fingers and sucked them thoroughly making his moans silent.

“Oh, hell yes!” her orgasm exploded deep inside her, she fell down on the out of breathe worn out the man’s chest her hair nestled in his neck and face.

“Think you can fuck me better than that?” She panted.

He drew a sharp before grinning to her rolling them both over. Her taunting green eyes arched she turned to his trapping arms while his fists were deep the sheets. She kissed up his enigmatic tattoos.

“Man, I’ve got to be drunk right now, are seriously fucking real?”

He looked her in awe.

She grinned a dark kind of grin watching the moans cry out from his nicotine mouth.

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