Beyond

 Kate offered herself to Angelo, her boyfriend Con’s best mate and Angelo eagerly accepted and unhesitatingly partook.

Angelo may not have had the smouldering energy of Con, or the cut, taught, breathtaking beauty either, but he was smooth and olive-skinned and athletic. He was as handsome and virile as any eastern prince that had ever lived. His manhood was well shaped and substantial and as eager as he was, in a beautiful and gently self-assured way.

The room was bathed in shadows, all of the hard edges had faded into the dewy mist of night that allowed the outside to sparkle through the windows with a silver grey sky, which gave the, momentary, impression of the world being inverted. Night time with in and a, kind of, melancholic day awash with an eternal dusk, beyond.

Angelo’s warm breath on Kate’s neck, beyond Con’s sleepy moan on her shoulder, his arm, and chest, warm with sticky night sweat against her side, beyond the window that appeared to view the black soul of the world beyond.

Night sounds echoed quietly somewhere outside their world; the distant clatter of cars and trams, the city making its way to the next morning and beyond.

Angelo’s lips were sweet and gentle on Kate’s. She luxuriated in their softness and their tenderness. Lips slowly exploring lips. Breath on breath. The soft profile of his face looking at hers. His skin melted into hers. His breasts brushed hers, smooth and strong. His skin slid into hers and she felt contented and beautiful and full. Loved and loving, wanted, entwined.

Angelo was gentle and slow. He caressed her externally as he caressed her internally, finger tips, hair, skin.

A ripe cantaloupe, as Angelo spooned for her seeds.

Con breathed smooth and long, at her side. She gripped his thick, hairy thigh. Angelo kissed her mouth, nibbled her neck, sucked her ear lobe.

A gentle lapping of water in the full moon’s reflections of night.

She let her legs float up on the warmth of contentedness and desire, so Angelo could push into her more easily, longer and deeper.

“Oh! Just like that.”

Kate never imagined that she’d know Angelo so well. He was beautiful, that had been tested. She’d seen that, known that from the moment Con had introduced them. Him, with his black, black hair and black, black eyes that pierced her skin when he looked at her. His shiny white teeth, as he said hello. The faint smell of garlic from his mother’s cooking. When he innocently kissed her hello, on the cheek, his broad shoulders and satin skin had all been alluring. Muscles in a demure package pulsated in its strength and appeal. A friend of Con’s, a play thing, a naughty boy, just like Con, who said they’d never met before. As strong in his reserve as Con was strong in his effervescence. Two play things, who’d have thought?

Two beautiful mates. West meets East.

But to be there in the satin, smooth light, pepped up and dreamily washed out, in whatever Con had given them in the form of those pills in his outstretched palm.

“Just take them and don’t ask questions,” Con had said. His cheeky smile preceding his air of directing the show. Do as I say, implied not said. Con could call the shots, as he liked to do. His need for domination coated with his love of a good time.

“Trust me and I’ll show you the stars.”

He took both of their hands and lead them, obediently, away.

Who’d have thought that innocent kiss would lead to such desire, such lust, wrapped up in the single candle light, the sound of Angelo’s breath so close, so intense and the sound of a sleeping Con, steady and serene.

Angelo’s tongue explored hers, gently coaxing and touching. His hair was thick and smooth and she felt like she could almost feel its shine on her finger tips.

They’d drank wine, dry and red, toasting the night. Con had asked Kate, early in the night if she’d thought Angelo was handsome. She’d blushed when she said she did.

The night pulsed and people were busy in the street, as Con pushed their way through, as he held her hand and lead them away, she holding Angelo’s.

She was sure she blushed when Con whispered, in her ear, that he thought Angelo was handsome too.

They left one bar and headed to another. Her handsome boyfriend, of sorts, was taking them on an adventure, a Saturday night out to remember.

Girls in miniskirts walking in impossibly high shoes, chewing gum. Looking from side to side, hunting in packs, with their impossibly small bags tucked under their impossibly tanned arms. Over made up, over sexed, teasingly for show. Primped and cleaned and covered in cheap perfume.

Boy’s excitedly bouncing on the balls of their feet, as they wait in the street. Impossibly confident. Shaved and unshaved showing off their chests, impossible sculpture from hours in the gym.

Whacking each other’s backs, as they tell stories of conquests, real or imagined. Gathering in groups with the air of cum and cheap cologne.

All heading somewhere hoping to be seen.

Angelo, Con and Kate danced under flashing, coloured lights, as the music pulsed, group of three. Sneaking looks at each other, as blood gushed in their eyes, which rolled in their heads. Con kissed Kate like he had many times before, except this time he was showing off, it gave him a buzz, made him blush.

Angelo weaved around them, as the night whirred, taking them in both arms, as many bodies bumped and ground, all oblivious.

The crowd pulsed, as if one, a beast in the night untamed, wild, the beat of the drums. Sweating. Gnarling. Gnashing. Pumped up on rhythm, one beat, shuffling feet. Flash white light and off. Changing colours. Twinkle. Burst of smoke.

Con’s lips leave Kate’s. She smiles, Con smiles. he looks over at Angelo. He smiles. Con smiles. The two boys look serious. Con turns his head. Angelo kisses him.

Kate makes her offer and they all go home.