The Black Pearl [MF, Poly-Am, Night Club, Public, Drug Use]

Lilly’s phone chimes and vibrates, rattling on top of the console and bathing the interior of the car in pale light.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum…” I pant. She presses her lips to my pubis, taking all of me into her mouth. I weave my fingers into the thick black curls of her hair and place my other hand on the nape of her neck. I hold her head firmly in place while I throb and coat the back of her throat. I shudder, and a wave of relaxation spreads through me like a drug. 

I loosen my grip. Lilly drags her lips along my length, and they make a satisfying smack when they reach the end of the head. She licks the last trickle with a practiced flick of her tongue and sits up.

“I love you,” I say.

“I know you do, baby,” Lilly says with a grin. She leans in and gives me a short kiss with those beautiful full lips of hers, then turns to flip down the sun visor. She opens the mirror and a warm light washes over her caramel skin. She inspects the damage our impromptu intimacy has inflicted on her evening’s look, and pulls up her purse to start making repairs. I tuck my cock back into my pants.

“Was that Karen?” I ask.

“Huh?” She responds, applying fresh gloss to her lips.

“Your phone.”

“Oh.” Lilly puts away her makeup kit, satisfied with the touch ups, and unlocks her phone. “She’s waiting for us at the entrance.”

“Shall we?”

“We shall.”

We climb out of the car and I take a moment to admire her figure in the light of the parking garage. The orange silk of her dress clings to her curves. Her heavy breasts press together in the plunging neckline. Her round ass gives me devious ideas.

I lock the car and take her hand in mine. She types out a message on her phone with the other. “Okay,” she says, “I told her we’re almost there.” 

And then we’re off.

I can hear the faint thump of the music before I see the club. Shifting lights dance across the street and a massive crowd lines the sidewalk. The Black Pearl. It’s become the most popular nightclub in the city, and Karen, Lilly’s old roommate, is the new manager.

We work our way through the press of bodies, the bass vibrations of the music growing stronger with each step, and we eventually reach the main entrance. Three barrel chested doormen stand guard, each similarly dressed in black. One sees us approaching and raises his hand.

I smile and open my mouth to speak, but he cuts me off with “Save the speech, asshole. Back of the line.”

“Hey, man, we’re actually here-”

“You deaf, or stupid? Back the fuck up.”

“Chill out, Rambo,” a feminine voice calls from behind him. “They’re with me.”

The doorman steps to the side, and the woman who can only be the manager of this establishment steps into view.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t the person standing before me now. She’s roughly my height, medium build, in a black tank cut just below her belly button. She’s in black jeans, distressed up and down the legs so one knee is visible, and a pair of checkered Converse. 

A tattoo of a red Eastern dragon covers her left arm and wraps around her shoulders, breathing smoke and fire down her chest. She has a series of kanji characters on the side of her neck, their meaning beyond me. 

The left side her scalp is buzzed short, and thick black hair drapes down to her shoulder from under the black beanie she’s wearing on her head. Black on black on black.

Two rings are pierced to her left eyebrow, another to her left nostril, and I think I can catch a glimpse of a stud in her tongue when she speaks. Her upper lip is painted with black lipstick, of course, and the lower one with a vibrant red.

Sharp black eyeliner accentuates the almond shape of her eyes, with a surprising, albeit dark shade of blue shadow on her eyelids.

She’s fierce. Intimidating, even. And strikingly beautiful.

“Seriously, dude. Fucking relax. I told you I was expecting VIPs tonight.” Karen gives the doorman a hard punch to the arm.

“Sorry, boss.”

“Yuh-huh.” She turns to look at us and scowls. She meets Lilly’s gaze. And her façade falls away as her face lights up. “Lil! Get over here!”

Lilly tends to have that effect on people.

The two squeal like long lost friends and rush into each other’s arms. Lilly’s head barely peaks over Karen’s shoulder, and the gruff looking night club manager buries her face in her friend’s hair. They end the embrace and kiss each other on the cheek. 

Lilly turns toward me and says “This is Brian. Brian, Karen.”

Karen steps toward me, eyeing me up and down. “So you’re the guy, huh? I hear you fuck like a champion.”

“Oh my god…” Lilly says, mortified.

“What!?” Karen says over her shoulder, then turns back to me. “It’s something to be proud of. Every guy should want his girl to brag about him.”

“I guess it helps when you have a good partner,” I say.

“Fuuuck.” Karen says, her eyes wide. “Very smooth. I like him.”

“He’s very smooth, yes.” Lilly says, coming to my side. She stands up on her toes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

“Cute,” Karen says. “So, ready to tear it up?”

“Ready?” Lilly asks me.

“Ready,” I say.

Karen turns, and we follow.

“Welcome to The Black Pearl,” the doorman says as we pass him. “Enjoy.”

A murmur of voices follows us from those still in line: “Oh, c’mon!” “That’s bullshit.” “Fuck you!”

We don’t have to take many steps for their shouts to be drowned out by a heavy bass that reverberates through the entry hall. We’re bathed in dark blue light and move past scattered groups of two or three, some nodding their heads as Karen passes them by. The bass rumbles the floor at a steady pace. Higher pitched, less intense polyrhythms fill the gaps. I can make out the shrieks and whines of electronic music as we delve deeper in until…

We pass the threshold and I’m lambasted by a wall of sound. Massive speaker stacks assault everyone on the main floor. Strobing lights show people dancing in stop motion on second and third floor walkways, the legacy of an old repurposed warehouse. There must be over five hundred people crammed onto the ground floor, but it feels like there are thousands. Maybe there are.

At the back of what I can only describe as a chasm of light and bodies, is a stage, where a DJ in an elaborate skull mask orchestrates the chaos being blasted on the overpowered sound system. Above him or her is a gargantuan LED wall that pulses with mind-bending colors; the only constant in the display is a bold and static skull and crossbones, the single homage to the club’s namesake that I can discern.

To the left are a series of minimally lit entryways. The lines of women coming out of one leads me to believe that those are the bathrooms. To the right, an exceptionally well stocked bar illuminated by shifting light panels placed behind the liquor bottles. Karen leads us straight in that direction.

I’m still trying to regain my senses from the bombardment of music. I can feel my bones vibrating, my teeth shake. I have to lean in to hear Lilly shout for a second time, “This is amazing!” 

There’s a wall of people between us and the bar and it parts like the Red Sea when Karen approaches. She makes eye contact with a bartender and holds up three fingers, then taps on the counter twice. The bartender nods and moves with practiced efficiency to fulfill her order. I see that he’s wearing industrial grade ear plugs. I try to ignore the anxiety that gives me.

Karen turns around to face us and reaches into her pocket. She pulls out a clear baggie with a number of white, flat tablets, each about the circumference of a fingernail. She opens the baggie and passes one to Lilly, another to me. She takes out one for herself and seals the baggie before tucking it away again. 

And right on cue, six shots of clear liquor find themselves on the bar in front of her. Karen hands us each a shot and grins. 

I have no idea what I’m about to swallow, so I say “Are these safe with alcohol?” I think I already know what the answer’s going to be, but I feel better asking.

Karen cocks an eyebrow, meaning “Say that again.”

I lean in closer. “Are these safe with alcohol?” My voice already feels hoarse from shouting.

Karen leans in too. “Don’t be a pussy!” Then she pops the tablet in her mouth and downs her first shot. Lilly follows suit, and so do I. The drug starts to dissolve almost immediately when it hits my tongue, covering it in a bitter taste. The liquor washes it down, leaving a heavy burn behind. 

I’m still swallowing when Karen hands me my second shot. She holds out her glass and we all clink together in salute. This one goes down smooth, the burn less intense. It’s premium quality stuff. And it’s free. I don’t complain.

We set our glasses down and Karen takes Lilly’s hand, who turns and takes mine. She pulls me in for a kiss as we follow our guide deeper into this hedonistic den. 

I can feel my heart start to flutter as we push through the press of bodies. We’re constantly brushing against other people as we travel toward the center of the dance floor. A woman reaches out and runs her fingers over my shoulder when we pass, smiling at me while her lover kisses her neck. I turn my head back in the direction Karen’s leading us. I notice the lights blur momentarily while my eyes adjust to the shift in focus. 

I tell myself it’s nothing.

We come to a stop near what must be the center of the floor. Karen turns around to face us and beams at Lilly as she starts to dance. Lilly doesn’t miss a beat and takes her hands as they move to the rhythm. Karen lifts their interlocked fingers to the sky, taking the lead, and spins Lilly around. I can’t hear her, but I see her squeal with elation. She stumbles into me when another person backs into her. I see Karen laugh, and Lilly lifts a palm to my cheek as a thank you.

She kisses me, and grinds her ass against my crotch. I kiss her more intensely. She nips at my lip. Karen closes the distance. She presses her hips against Lilly’s, swaying with the music. Lilly breaks away from our kiss and turns her face to her friend. Karen kisses her firmly, pushing Lilly’s head against me. 

Lilly reaches a hand up to Karen’s chest and pushes her back gently. She catches herself against the back of another stranger, beckoning Lilly on. Lilly goes and turns to face me. Karen grabs hold of her waist and pulls her in. It’s her turn with Lilly’s perfect ass now. I catch Karen’s beautiful eyes and her mischievous grin. I step toward them…

And stumble. The floor is suddenly a few inches lower below my right foot than it is below my left. A series of hands reach out to catch me before I land on the concrete below. I stand up straight, nodding my thanks to the other dancers in the crowd. The floor’s level again. But the skull and crossbones on the LED wall above me is laughing. It wasn’t doing that before.

Sparks fly off the screen, and I watch as they drift down in slow motion, dancing whimsically around Lilly’s head while Karen fondles her breast. I move forward until I’m face to face with Lilly. Her eyes are fully dilated. She runs her tongue up my chin and slips it into my mouth. I feel her rub my cock over my pants. Karen eyes me hungrily while she nibbles at Lilly’s ear.

I break off the kiss with Lilly and lean into Karen’s waiting mouth. She kisses me hard. Our tongues do their own dance together as the music, drugs, and alcohol course through us. Lilly has my hard cock in her hands now, stroking, squeezing.

Lilly turns to try to face Karen, but our bodies are pushed together by a surge of the crowd, and Lilly falls back into the arms of a stranger. Karen wraps her hands around the back of my neck and pulls me in tight, exhaling into my face, grinding against my cock. I catch a glimpse of Lilly surrounded by the dancing sparks again. A man’s hand groping her naked breast, his thumb rubbing over her black nipple. A woman’s fingers are tucked inside her pussy. Her face is alight with ecstasy.

Karen turns around and pushes her ass against my bare cock. She leans forward, hands on her knees, and grinds into me. I hold her by her waist and shoulder, rubbing the bottom of my cock up and down her jeans. I’ve never felt anything so sublime in my life. The music doesn’t seem as loud anymore. It’s beautiful, actually. I’m making love to an angel.

A wave of bass blasts from the speakers ahead of us, and I can actually see it wash over and through the crowd. Karen sees it too. It propels her back into me, the back of her head slamming into my shoulder. I catch her with my hands around her stomach. She leans over and kisses me again. One of my hands travels up and under her tank top, finding a pierced nipple. I pinch it. She sighs. My other slips down her jeans. I press my palm firmly over her pussy. I feel a stud pierced on her clit.

She reads my mind, or maybe I read hers, and she pulls my hand out from her pants and leads me toward the bathrooms. I spare a look over my shoulder and see Lilly kissing a woman and getting fucked by a man from behind.

“Lucky guy,” I say as the crowd collapses behind us and I lose sight of her.

Karen drags me through a break in the bodies and I feel a relatively fresh rush of air hit me for what feels like the first time in hours. We cut past the line into the women’s room to a slurry of: “Fuck you!” “Get out!” “No cutting, bitch!”

We get inside the tiled restroom, bathed in a soft glow that alternates between a deep blue and a vibrant magenta. It’s packed full of women. They glare and shout and poke and prod. Karen rushes by the stalls, slamming on each as she passes with growing frustration and desperation.

“His dick’s out!” one woman calls.

Karen pushes aside a girl crying at a sink and meets my eyes in the mirror. Our pupils are massive. She undoes her button and zipper, pushes her jeans down to her knees, grabs the sink, and licks her lips. I push my cock into her soaking pussy. It feels like my whole body’s been dipped into warm honey. Karen moans.

“Oh my god…” one of the onlookers says.

I hear my flesh slap against hers as I thrust hungrily into her. Or maybe I feel it. It’s hard to distinguish between the senses at the moment. She reaches up and tugs off her beanie, throwing it into the sink and grabbing hold of it again while I hammer her from behind. I take the cue and take a firm grip on her hair. She arches her back, grinding my cock inside her.

“You get it, girl!” a voice calls out to laughs and cheers. A hand spanks my ass. Someone kisses me on the cheek. I barely notice any of it.

I grab Karen’s throat with my free hand and squeeze. Her pussy contracts around my cock.

“That’s so fucking hot…”

I can feel Karen’s pulse racing in her neck. I start to count silently to myself, in time with each thrust, “One. Two. Three.” I squeeze harder. “One. Two. Three.” 

A woman who smells like weed steps behind me and presses her hips against my ass, whispering into my ear “Get her, Tiger.” Her friends cheer her on.

But I don’t listen to her, because I can feel something building up inside Karen at an incredible pace. Inside us both. “One. Two.”

And I feel her cum. But I don’t just feel the gush of her sex, or the tightening of her flesh. I actually feel her orgasm as it spreads through her body and eventually mine. We’re like two souls in one being. The cock that was mine, but now ours, spasms, and the warmth of its cum fills us both. It’s the most beautiful and satisfying experience anyone will ever have.

We release the grip on our throat and new air fills our lungs. We gasp for breath, our hand unclenching our hair and brushing down our sweaty back. We bend down and kiss our neck, and feel the truest and most pure love the universe has ever beheld blossom in this caress.

A chorus of jeers, cheers, and applause wakes me from my union. I see the same shock on Karen’s face in the mirror. That may have been a drug induced hallucination, but it was ours. She bites her lip and smiles at me. A warmth spreads through my chest when I see it.

I pull myself out of her, and she tugs her jeans back up. I button my pants and Karen takes my hand. 

“Let’s go,” she says. I follow her, but the room jolts forty-five degrees to the right with my second step. Then the exit is a mile away.

“Uh-oh,” I think. And everything goes black.

I open my eyes and immediately regret it.

“Uh…fuuuuuck…” My voice sounds like my throat’s full of mud. Slowly, one nanometer at a time, I open an eyelid. The light’s excruciating, but I force myself to take it in. 

I’m looking at a ceiling. It’s white. Or grey. Something in between? I dare to shift my head to the right. Windows. The curtains closed. There’s hardly any light seeping through at all, but it feels like I’m staring directly at the sun. 

I shift my body. Something soft. Everywhere. Sheets? Am I home? My home?

I hear something. Soft. Steady. Music? Music. But not the aural assault I endured at the club. It’s… fuck. Forgot the word. Sax. Saxa…? Jazz. It’s jazz.

Not home then.

I dare to lift my head and I hear other noises coming from the rooms beyond. An eternity later, I’m on my feet, shuffling through the doorway and into a kitchen.

I think I see an angel, or a demon, standing in front of a stove, cooking. Dancing. She’s wearing a white T-Shirt and nothing else. I watch her ass wiggle back and forth for an unknown number of minutes before she notices me there.

“Hey there, champ!” Karen says. She empties the contents of her frying pan onto a plate and sets it down on the counter in front of me. I blink, or maybe I black out again, and a glass of orange juice appears next to it. She’s pouring vodka into it.

“I hope you remember where your clothes are, Brian. Because I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find them,” Karen says, twisting the cap back onto the bottle of vodka.

I realize now that I’m naked.

“Huh.” I say.

“Don’t worry, we’ll figure something out.” A phone vibrates on the counter. The counter’s immaculate, now that I look at it. The whole kitchen is. Despite her whole punk aesthetic, Karen’s place is the definition of clean modern architecture. “Looks like Lilly just woke up somewhere upstate. I’m gonna send an Uber her way.”

“She’s okay?” I ask.

“Alive, at least,” Karen answers with a chuckle. “C’mon. Eat up! You’ll feel better with some hot food in your stomach.” She kisses me on the head. “And your cock in my pussy.”

She saunters back toward the bedroom, stretching her arms over her head, calling out “Round Four, baby!”

Round Four? I can’t even remember Two and Three.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/vh4pob/the_black_pearl_mf_polyam_night_club_public_drug