Eve Langlais - Hybrid Misfit

I found the guys sitting at the bar and Simon inclined his head in my direction as our gazes touched. Gene just tossed me a wide grin along with a thumbs up gesture. I couldn’t help the flush of heat-a molten wet desire-from flooding my senses. I can’t believe they came to find me. The idea made me quite giddy and horny-who could forget their sensual promise of a threesome.

I dry humped the stage in time to the music, my hips rotating sensually in rhythm with my building delight over seeing my new friends again. My excitement radiated outwards, a cloud of invisible pheromones that touched the patrons of the club, erotically so. Catcalls and bills rained over and around me. I didn’t bother picking them up. Bruno had an employee to take care of the tips we got for our performances so that his dancers didn’t have to scramble all over the stage like crazed magpies. With one last flick of my hair, I rolled to my feet and with an exaggerated wiggle, walked off the stage.

I exited through the rear curtain and made my way to the dressing room where I shrugged a see-through, lace babydoll over my skimpy bikini-think teensy tiny triangles held on by string. I ran a brush through my snarled locks, cursing when the bristles caught.

I forced myself to slow down and breathe deep. My impatience stemmed from my eagerness to see and talk to Simon and Gene again. I wondered what brought them by-and then chided myself for my coyness. I knew why they were here. To see me.

Confidence restored, I finished brushing my hair and freshened my makeup. I killed fifteen minutes before I finally exited into the club-a girl should never appear too eager. My iron will kept me from skipping over to them like an eager puppy with her tongue lolling-but my anticipation was still apparent in the damp crotch of my panties.

Refusing to give in to my hormones-even as anticipation increased my level of horniness-I worked the room, speaking to my regular admirers and accepting with smiles their bills stuffed into my bra. I rewarded them with light touches across their cheeks or hands that fed me their desire while making their eyes glaze over in pleasure.

Thus, did I slowly make my way to the bar where, with a nonchalance I didn’t feel, I greeted the guys with a simple “Hi.”

Simon chuckled, his low rumble vibrating through me with more effect than the bass of the music blasting. “Nice show.”

Gene, the irreverent one, grinned at me devilishly. “I think I’ve found my new hang out spot. And, might I say, I look forward to receiving a private performance.”

Simon elbowed Gene, who grunted, but continued to smile with twinkling eyes.

Odd, with any other man, I would have probably become offended. Gene was so brazen and cocky, but I liked it, just like I enjoyed Simon’s more subtle admiration. The reason, I realized, was simple. I was the one causing the reaction, not my abnormal side, and under their obvious admiration, I bloomed. And grew even hornier.

“What brings you guys slumming?” I asked, sitting on a stool between them the short skirt of my lace cover-up stopping just short of my crotch.

“Just out for a drink,” said Gene.

“We wanted to see you,” said Simon with an honesty that shocked and pleased me.

“I’m glad you came,” I said. In truth, I hadn’t stopped thinking of them, and I’d fought the urge to call them all day.

“When are you finished?” Simon asked. “Can we take you to dinner?”

“Ah yes, dinner. We’re so very hungry ,” Gene said with a wink and a leer that had me laughing.

Once again Simon glared at his friend and I grabbed his closed fist between my two hands-the man was freaking huge! “It’s okay, Simon. Given my profession, I get the innuendos a lot. I’ve also discovered the ones with the biggest mouths usually have the smallest dicks.” I said this with a mischievous smile at Gene. My sly rebuke didn’t cause him to blush or get angry; instead, he laughed.

Simon relaxed his fist and curled his fingers around mine. “Don’t worry, what he lacks in size next to me, he makes up for in innovation.” The subtle innuendo coming from him caught me off guard, but soon we were all laughing, which, I had to admit, was different than my usual experiences with men. Grunting, sweating and bellows of “Oh my God,” tended to be the more usual interactions I had with the opposite sex.

“Listen, I’ve got another set to do and then, if you don’t mind waiting, we can go for dinner.” And then back to Simon’s place or Gene’s bottle for dessert. My succubus side would be well fed tonight, and if I was lucky, maybe they’d feed my dark side, too. I wondered what drinking genie blood would do to me? Which reminded me, I still didn’t know what Simon’s other half consisted of.

Before I could ask, Claire came up, wearing her waitress costume consisting of a short black and white maid’s outfit along with a bunny tail and ears-the irony of it made us laugh like fiends at home. “Hey Trixi, who’re your friends?” she asked with a bright smile and eager eyes.

I introduced Gene and Simon to her while reining in a suddenly jealous side that reared its head with a snarl at the interest in her eyes. She looked them up and down and then in a mock whisper said to me, “You’re right, they are yummy.”

With a mischievous giggle, she hopped away leaving me facing two grinning men.

“Cute friend,” said Gene. My eyes must have turned green or smoke must have billowed from my ears, or some other noticeable sign, because he quickly added, “If you’re into herbivores. Me, I prefer a girl who likes to sink her teeth into me while I sink into her.”

Simon simply added. “Your bunny friend doesn’t hold a candle to you.” Mollified, even if I didn’t understand my unreasonable jealousy, I chatted with them about the club for a few sets.

At a signal from the bartender, I made my excuses and went out back to change. For my next number, I pulled on my darker side and I dressed to match the part. Black latex undies that zipped up the front, tight bustier held on with laces, fishnet stockings and lethal high heels. A coating of dark makeup with a blood red lipstick and I was every man’s fantasy of a girl gone bad.

I strutted onto the stage to the thumping rhythm of Rihanna’s song, “S &M.” A hush fell over the room as I started to dance.

My skin tingled and I had to concentrate on my motions as I found myself self-conscious knowing Simon and Gene watched me avidly. I went through the motions for my second act in a heightened state that made me breathe hard. Usually, I could run through my routines with my eyes closed while compiling a grocery list, but having Gene and Simon following my every move, added an element of sensuality to everything I did. When I grasped the pole-thick and hard-between my hands, I undulated my hips at it while locking eyes with Simon’s burning ones set in a face tight with tension-the sexual kind.

When I pressed my breasts around the pole, cupping and squeezing them, Gene’s wicked smile tightened my nipples and sent a rush of moisture to my cleft.

I undulated, skimming my hands down over my body and closed my eyes, momentarily forgetting I was onstage. I danced faster, my motions erotic, my mood even more so. Gasps and sighs came to me faintly even with the booming music. Flicking my eyes open, I almost stumbled when I saw the front row-my fervent perverts-panting with glazed eyes, their hands hidden under the table.

I bit my lip as I realized my own sexual interest radiated out to touch the humans in the crowd. Not that they were complaining, several already wore satisfied grins.

I almost ran from the stage when my act was done. I was so horny, an emotion I didn’t have much experience with. I provoked desire-I didn’t suffer from it. When my succubus side required feeding, it made me stalk sex in a very clinical manner, but even when I’d starved that side of myself, I’d never found myself in the grips of lust.