Keywords: Mardi, Gras,

Midnight.

The rest of the city was in a state of frenzy, partying itself into a stupor. My roommate had left early the day before saying she'd see me… eventually. Having moved in only a few weeks before, she was plainly baffled by my behaviors.

She simply could not understand someone living in the very heart of New Orleans, and not being interested in partying. Especially during the Mardi Gras celebrations. Then again she had already admitted that she just didn't, and possibly never would "Get me".

I didn't have the heart to tell her. She was so keen to set me up as her eccentric reclusive roommate… She had wandered into my room once or twice. Stared at the walls decorated with art by H R Geiger, Luis Royo, and Olivia. Glanced through my book case with my collection of Stephen King, Peter Straub, Neil Gaiman , Anne Rice as well as my gaming (Vampire and D&D books mostly). Noticed that I had candles all over the room and a collection of tarot decks…

Well, you can imagine the things she had decided. She was convinced that I was a witch or something, and I think the idea kind of excited her…

I obliged by not explaining that I just didn't feel like partying at the moment. I'd gotten tired of bar or party hopping. Watching people hook up, pairing off to wander away alone. Or, worse, loving couples snuggling and whispering to each other.

To put it simply… I was lonely.

I'd spent most of the night in my room curled up with a bottle of 21 yr. old scotch, watching movies. The movie was over, the bottle was half gone, it was midnight and I was bored. Anything had to be better than this… So with that thought I turned off the TV and wandered to the closet in search of something to wear.

With a devious smirk, I climbed into a pair of fishnets and my favorite skirt. Black, ankle length, slit up both sides to mid thigh. A low cut, tight, black see through shirt covered by a filmy red see through shirt. A pair of knee high platform boots.

With a glance at the mirror, I decided that the slightly mussed state of my nearly hip length red curls was good, and grabbed the last bit of my outfit on the way downstairs. The collar slipped around my neck, a comfortable weight with its heavy silver ring resting against the hollow of my throat. I dropped the by now nearly empty bottle of scotch on a coffee table as I headed to the door.

Generally I make it a rule not to go out alone, Especially drinking or partying. To make up for it, I headed to my favorite club which was only a ten minute walk, or stumble, from my door. The bartender and most of the bouncers knew me there, and would keep an extra eye out for me.

As soon as I got there, I was let in, accompanied by much grumbling from the line of people waiting for entrance. Tony, the guy at the door, grinned and gave me a hug. "Looking great… Glad to see you again, Red…"

I returned the hug. "I'm alone tonight."

"He nodded, having played Big Brother a time or two in the past. "Plan to leave that way?"

I shrugged. "You know my type…"

He laughed and patted me on the ass. "Talk to Ken, he'll point you in the right direction…"

Ken was the bartender, a broad shouldered gentle natured bisexual who's taste in men and women was almost identical to my own. He leaned across the bar to kiss my cheek as he asked for my pleasure.

"Something tall, dark, and insatiable?" I asked with a wink.

"Redheaded slut?" he asked with a grin, mixing the aptly named drink as he scanned the crowd intently.

"Something new, I think." I responded as he handed the drink over.

We laughed, and he leaned over to whisper in my ear "Near the left speaker…"

I followed his gaze and grinned. "Yummy." I muttered as I studied the figure dancing alone in my usual spot. He looked about 6'1", an interesting mix of African American and probably Italian. Shaven head. Dark sunglasses. No shirt to hide his well-muscled torso. Tight black jeans, and boots.

I finished my drink and headed across the dance floor to the speakers. On my way past the DJ's booth I waved and mouthed my request for NIN's Closer. The DJ, one of my favorite, waved back and grinned. "Next" he promised.

It was an old game and I knew every move. I danced near the guy, but not enough to make him move out of the way. As the song wound down I brushed past him. "You're in my spot." I grinned up at him.

He laughed. "Got your name on it?"

I nodded, moving closer "Look under your feet!"

He took a step back, looking down to where in Huge Red letters it said "RED" on the floor. "You're Red?" he asked, grinning at me.

I nodded just as the spotlight stopped over me and the DJ said "A song for my favorite girl, Red…" and Closer started.

I bowed low to the ground, praying that I wouldn't pop out of the low cut shirt and ruin the moment. The guy blushed and started to move away, but I grabbed his hand. "I don't mind sharing, if you're friendly…" without letting go I began to move with the music, hips and body swinging in a serpentine fashion that served to entrance my already captive audience.

He laughed softly, almost growling as he dropped my hand. We moved closer but stopped just short of touching as his body echoed the movements of my own.

We danced through several songs, never saying a word. After nearly an hour, he reached out, hooking a finger through the ring in my collar. "Have a drink with me, Red." Without waiting for a response, he turned, leading me back to the bar.

Ken grinned as he saw us coming, a glitter of jealousy in his eyes. "Whatever the lady wants." my companion said, pulling me up beside him. Letting go of the collar, he wrapped an arm around my waist.

Ken glanced me over, reaching for a glass as at the same time we both said "Water" I laughed "Thanks Kenny, you know me too well…"

"He just smirked as he handed the glass over and looked to my companion. "One for you…" he let the question trail off, obviously waiting for an introduction.

"Mark, and please." He answered in an amused tone.

Once the second water was handed over, we headed upstairs where a number of fans and couches provided a comfy place to cool down and chat for a while. He settled into a corner of a couch and reached up, tugging at the collar until I fell into his lap. I smiled, perfectly content to snuggle up against his lovely chest.

I crossed my legs, propping the heel of one boot against the edge of a table. He watched the movement, eyes running up my legs to where the slit in the skirt had pulled up several inches, stopping just short of showing anything. He looked almost disappointed to notice, but grinned as he ran one finger from the top of my boot to where the skirt rested. "Sexy…" he said in a low, gravely voice.

Something about the voice struck me then, and I looked at him closely for the first time. The glasses gave only my reflection, and impulsively I reached out to remove them. His hand jumped as if to stop me, but he put it back on my thigh again, watching me closely as I studied his face.

"Well?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to study me as intently as I was studying him. Light glinted across his eyes, almost seeming to reflect against those dark pools, and I gasped.

I wasn't at the club, I was at home, snuggled up in my bed, dreaming. There was no possible way that I could be curled up in the lap of this man who's hand was almost subtly working its way up my thigh, slipping beneath my skirt. There was no way that this crooked grin was meant for me as his other arm pulled me toward him for a kiss.

It simply wasn't possible that his mouth was moving on mine, his tongue slipping between my slightly parted lips. There wasn't a chance in hell that it was His hand that had reluctantly moved from under my skirt to stroke my breast. He wasn't kissing me breathless… Not him… It was all a dream, and since it was only a dream I gave in.

The kiss broke then, as if he sensed my acceptance. His eyes were on mine, he was still waiting for an answer to his question. I was breathing heavy, my breasts rising and falling in away that he seemed to appreciate as he glanced down to watch them. "Oh" was all that I could say, and I felt like a complete moron.

The man I had been fantasizing about for months had just kissed me, fondled me, and was showing every sign of being interested in quite a bit more. His hand moved to my breast again, pushing the filmy red shirt aside, then pulling the tight black tank out of the way as he closed his lips over my nipple, through the bra. All of this was really happening, and all that I could say was oh…

So I said it again, several times, as he unsnapped my bra for better access, rolling one nipple between his fingers as he sucked on the other. My stream of "oh, oh oh…" had become a soft sigh, a whimper, and then a moan as he shifted his body so that I was pinned against the back of the couch.

Another moan escaped as he pulled away, quickly pulling my shirt up to cover my swollen breasts. His low chuckle was echoed by laughter as a group reached the top of the stair, heading in our direction. He moved to shield me somewhat as I scrambled my clothes back into place. They would know exactly what they'd interrupted but that didn't matter. I didn't mind people knowing that I was with this man, so long as they weren't getting a free show.

They passed by us, several making smart ass comments about us not stopping on their account, guys offering to lend a hand, the usual. Mark stood slowly, his already tight jeans were quite a bit tighter than they'd been when we met on the dance floor. I smirked at his discomfort as he tugged on the collar saying "C'mon Red, lets go home."

We were almost to the stairs when I heard a female voice call out "Red?" sounding almost shocked.

I turned, blushing slightly as my roommate ran up to me. She stared hard at me, not missing a detail. Her eyes widened slightly as she studied my lover, obviously recognizing him as I had. I shook my head at her, handing him his sunglasses, and pushing him toward the stairs.

Keywords: Mardi, Gras,