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Post by FLOR COSTA DU VALE on Dec 23, 2010 23:44:48 GMT -5
 The music was too loud. The bodies were too close. The smell of sweat lingered too heavily in the air. All Flor wanted to do was crowd surf right into the heart of it.
She was here with Ruby...That was the plan. She'd put on the skimpiest outfit she could find in her closet; an itty bitty fire engine red sequin sleeveless mini dress and some random Jimmy Choos given to her as a gift at some shoot. She had left her hair down and in its usual wild beach waves, heavy smokey eye makeup making her hazel green eyes pop out tremendously underneath thick and natural eyelashes filled with lengthening mascara. She looked ready to be in a photo shoot than to go to a club. So it was no surprise when she showed up and eyes landed on her in the most delicious of ways and it was no surprise when she abandoned Ruby at the bar to go on the hunt for someone who wouldn't reject her...
What Ruby would never understand was that telling Flor no was probably not the brightest of ideas. She was a sexual being. If someone said no to her for sex, she obsessed about it. Something had to be wrong with her if they gave out a negative instead of a positive. Ruby seemed to accept the invitation at first but then she declined it and all it did was send Flor on a spiraling decent towards trying to fix herself up with someone else to prove she still had it. In a matter of twenty four hours, she didn't lose her touch. And she should have known better than to doubt herself. Emerging from a dark back hallway, she tugged on the hem of her skirt to pull it down, straightening her hair and makeup a bit as she mingled easily back into the crowd, readjusting her jaw as if it had come loose. Not long after, some muscular male emerged from the same darkness, pulling his pants up and zipping them, fixing his own hair so he wouldn't look like a hot mess.
Yeah, she totally still had it. Ruby was just a bump in the road and yet she still found herself drawn to her, wanting what she figured she ultimately wouldn't be able to have. It was the top prize and she was forbidden to touch it like God's fruit or something. It bothered her that she felt that shock of electricity flowing through her when Ruby just touched her the way she did but no matter. She just had to...plow her. Maybe after that she'd stop thinking about her and go back to everything else in her life. Commitment was never her strong suit. Hell, she never really had a boyfriend or girlfriend so that was enough to prove something in all her eighteen years of living on this earth.
Reaching the bar, she came up behind Ruby's familiar delicate form. Flor had been told in the past by photographers and reporters that her eyes always held so much more than she was telling, that it seemed like she was forever in a constant struggle and all those emotions that no one could read on her face or body language always came out in her eyes. Maybe it was just that she was in lust with Ruby...but whatever it was, she wanted the other female to be begging for her to keep going. She didn't want her to get away. Not yet. So as she came up behind her, she let her fingers trail the other female's arms, lips gently brushing against her shoulder, up her neck, and nipping her earlobe a tad bit, "Do you like dancing?"
Because Flor didn't have conversations verbally. She only had them physically.
ruby.
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Post by ruby wilhelmina daniels on Dec 24, 2010 9:27:43 GMT -5
 True, she had invited Flor to the opening as her sort of… date thing, but that didn’t mean she frequently forked over enough money for party clothes, that she enjoyed dirty dancing, or that, and she would go as far to please the girl, she’d even been clubbing before. So, of course, she ran to the fountain of youth and knowledge that was her baby sister, and begged her to let her borrow something to wear. They danced around the bedroom to the sounds of the assorted vintage rock music they’d grown up listening to, and when it came time for her to go, she looked like a clone of the younger girl. Insistently, she grabbed her elbow, courage and determination over her features as she asked for a final time if she looked all right, and it wasn’t until she hit the street and all the wrong kind of eyes were on the exposed sliver of her pale stomach that she realized she probably would have been better off without the help from the cute, but still absurdly dark and gothic looking little girl she typically referred to as Bunny. That being said, it was a lot easier than roaming the aisles of Macy’s, hunting for something within her budget that would suit her needs, and she wasn’t complaining. When they were little, she didn’t typically loan her things out to her siblings, and she was still partly amazed that either of them would even help her out in the slightest, most basic way. Over all, her perception of partying was confusing. Outside, she seemed to be the only person concerned about the thirty degree weather - everyone else dug into the pits of their closets to extract the smallest dresses she had ever seen, shorts that could barely be considered shorts, tank tops that were hard pressed to cover anything, and no jacket to boot. Approaching the door, she’d gripped Flor’s elbow, aware entirely of the frigid expression on the other girl’s face, almost annoyed, and when the bouncer let them in front of everyone else, she was the only one who didn’t waste any time by standing outside. Inside, she found herself in the middle of two grinding men at least three times, trying to make her way to the bar, and by the time she’d gotten settled there, Flor had disappeared. Well, she couldn’t say she was disappointed, because that would entail she had expectations, and at twenty one, she was sadly clued out of the partying scene. Unsurprisingly - these things typically happen when scantily clad models, wearing sky-high heels are involved - the bartender sidled over to her with an expectant glimmer in his dark eyes, and she found herself so transfixed by the dimple at the side of his mouth that she didn’t even stop to consider what he was offering her, nodding her head. What do you want? he questioned, a soft chuckle following the quirk of his lips, and she shrugged. “Whatever you think I would like.” Clearly, she had no knowledge of drinks or bars or clubs and all she wanted was Flor to buy her drinks and show her what to do, because obviously she couldn’t do it herself, but the girl was gone. She hadn’t even seen a flash of the little red dress she was so absurdly fond of. That, along with various other components surrounding her, was part of her intrigue - her fascination with the gaudy, the shiny, the short and skimpy. Ruby was raised strictly on the principle of less is more: a glance of a shimmered shoulder, a slender wrist, an arm, a well-placed slit. A waft of perfume, an exposure of a delicate, swan-like neck, a brush of your thigh against theirs. Of course, that conversation had come from their father, when she attempted to walk out of the house dressed like a tramp. He’d sat her down, hampered her plans, and she’d grown frustrated. But she learned, quickly, too, that it worked. At that point, he was forgiven. Rousing her from her nebulous reverie, the bartender plopped something in front of her. Incredulous, she raised her eyebrows, “Is that a muffin?”He nodded. It’s a vodka muffin - we have special ovens that don’t evaporate the alcohol content. That one’s vanilla. And she felt the hands of a slender, strong woman sliding up the sides of her body, the warmth, tantalizing breath upon her neck. She was helpless to her wiling ways, there was no hesitation to accept the invitation given to her, and she glanced back at the bartender with a sullen expression, wishing desperately that if she’d stayed, she would have been able to eat the muffin and make his downcast, bright eyes stray from the disappointed inflection. They paused, directly in the center of the dance floor, and she was being pushed and pulled before she understood what was happening. Arms, legs, lips, her neck, her shoulders, her hips. Slowly, quickly, tossed and turned and she was evaporating into the music, lost to the pulls and tugs of everyone else’s whims and suddenly, she was released into a nearly-orgasmic solitude, and it was just her, just her and Flor and no one else, and the music pulsated and then she was back again, free, released, indulgent. She didn’t speak. She let herself be guided. She longed, as she always did, for a cigarette. WEARING THIS.
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Post by FLOR COSTA DU VALE on Dec 24, 2010 23:59:10 GMT -5
The center of the dancefloor meant all eyes would be on them and even though her intentions had been to gain all that attention, the only person she truly wanted the attention from was Ruby, the girl with the halo of curls that made her seem so angelic and beautiful, it hurt her just to think about everything they could possibly have but probably wouldn't ever. Ruby needed...a lover-a constant. Flor would never be able to fill in such a place. She wouldn't be around forever and if she was, Ruby would eventually grow tired of her sexual antics or Flor would die from a sexually transmitted disease or something. One of the two extremes. She'd spent long nights contemplating over these options after screwing with whomever it was she was screwing at the moment. She would think about these things while laying in bed or sleeping on the couch which was her favorite spot in the whole apartment. And if she wasn't thinking about that, she was thinking about her life in Brazil and would wonder if he was looking for her...whoever he was...there were so many faces, all so blurred together despite only having left Brazil a little over a year ago. They meant so much to her yet nothing at all. Just a stepping stone to bigger and better things.
But as the music played, she moved with the beat, the Spanish music playing. She was accustomed to this, the transition between Spanish and Portuguese. They were practically the same thing. And as it played, she smiled, moving her body away from Ruby to teach her the steps, one hand on her hips to guide her, "Like this. Feel the music in your hips and knees...let them guide you," she kept her eyes locked onto her's and moved with ease. It was bred into her. That was why she was enjoying herself, for once, without having sex. Dancing was fun to her. Made her release all the energy she constantly had for some odd reason. Pulling their bodies together, she moved them around with a soft laughter escaping from her throat before she locked her lips onto Ruby;s as if it came naturally to her-as if they were already an item when Flor knew down right that they weren't...and probably would never be. But it was fun to pretend right? Even if it was just for one night, "Can I be your's tonight?"
She whispered the words into the other female's ear so only she could hear them as if it were a major secret no one was allowed to know. How many times had she said those words to countless others yet only meant them right now for the first time? It was a line she couldn't remember who it was taught her. Let them have temporary ownership of her body for one night and it would drive whoever it was wild. The simple act-no, the thought could make anyone's toes curl with delight of having someone at their disposal, "I always wanted to be your's....Since I first met you," and she wasn't lying. Granted, the lines sounded so much nicer in Portuguese but in English they tended to have a similar effect. She brushed her lips against Ruby's gently, as if beckoning her to say yes...to just agree and not reject her again.
If she rejected her again...Flor didn't know how she would react.
ruby.
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