{Lalita} Meet the twins
She breathed in and looked up to see her brother at the balcony as she continued to writhe. He sipped his drink, eyes following her movements, willing her to glance up, and she did.
Manju waved casually as eyes flicked up to him, noticing her attention. Some seemed offended, some crest-fallen, others vaguely intrigued. It was a banquet. He slowly made his way to the floor and the crowd parted around him. He was a soft breeze, caressing those he passed, soaking in the flavors of lust and desperation. They didn't see the silk clad demi-god among them, but they felt it as he made his way to his other half.
The Apsara moved off the dancefloor toward her brother, much to the disappointment of everyone and slid up to meet him fluidly.
He hugged her closely, whispering into her ear. "Having fun sister?"
It was a minor jab, a little joke to cover the sudden wave of physical relief he felt; she restored him. In her presence he felt comforted, even when they fought. The awkward quiet in his soul seemed filled with the music they shared.
She pressed herself against him entirely, much too closely and tightly for a brother and sister. Just knowing he was in the building calmed her; but being next to him now made all of the tension and irritation of the day melt. She shuddered, almost imperceptibly as the music and her brother surrounded her.
She couldn't help but return the barb, though.
She breathed in deeply at his neck, brushing a subtle kiss on his flesh before whispering in his ear, "you need to spend less time around marijuana-laden Paris Hilton wanna-be's, my love. They make you smell like day old carnations . . . from the Safeway." She leaned back to look up at him with her kohl rimmed eyes, her hips still pressed against his.
He smirked in the way he knew irritated her, "of course we can't all be so happily married to the office can we?"
He stepped back, looking her over, desire flamed. It was always there, an ember. He repressed his immediate urge, it was early after all. Around them people shifted, missing a step in their dancing, the tension from the pair made invisible waves radiate through the room.
"What will we do with our night?"
She looked around the club with a supreme stare and then back at her brother, sliding away from him just a bit as she got a petulant look on her face.
She was so bored with the surroundings that she could scream. The only thing that ever truly aroused her was the Gandharva she stood next to. All she wanted to do was lock herself away with him, make time have no meaning as they fed each other's souls and lust, lose themselves in the worship.
But she had sibling rivalry, a reputation to maintain, and an appetite to satiate.
Still, she was petulant. "Manju, they all taste so sour lately. Even the barely legal "virgins" you prize taste like milk gone bad anymore." She turned to look up at her brother, her lip out and pouting perfectly, eyes glittering.
He sighed and looked at her, "then we need to work harder don't we, unless you're feeling a bit more experimental."
"I am feeling decidedly NOT experimental, actually. I want something that tastes of pure lust . . . nothing acrimonious or bitter. Difficult to find in a place like this." She sighed wistfully and her breasts heave slightly with it; the crowd around her takes notice for a moment.
"My dear sister, we live in Washington DC." He hooked his arm in hers and walked through the crowd as he spoke to her. "This city is beyond jaded, it's more corrupt than LA. What do you propose we do? Invade Suburbia?"
She frowned like a pretty child denied sweets, even as her hand caressed his secretly, "dammit, that didn't go very well the last time, did it?"
"Not unless you count the old woman chasing us with the broom."
She giggled despite herself and the memory.
"So what dear do you then have in mind?"
"I don't ask for much; just some untainted desire. No drugs, no kink, just pure . . . lust. Find that, and I'll make the rest of your weekend worth all the trouble."
He rolled his khol lined eyes, "why not ask me to find you a virgin while we're at it?"
She shruged languidly, "if you feel I'm worth it, you'll find a way. Besides, I don't want a virgin. They are too clumsy and young."
He continued to smirk as walked her to the door, "why don't you wait here while I find out where the damned car got to."
Manju left her standing beside the shaved head mountain of muscle who shifted uncomfortably. His partner snickered.
Lalita paid little attention as she put her hand lightly on Matt's shoulder, "Matthew, do you have a cigarette?"
The muscles of his tight arm bounced under her touch as he turned around to face her, "did you lose yours in the club, Ms. Das?"
She lifted her dark rimmed eyes to the bouncer, and saw it. Unadulterated desire. And Lalita wouldn't even have to remove her clothing for it tonight.
Either Manju carefully planned this, or this was a most fortunate accident for him. Probably the latter. Her brother was terrible at planning.
She held her hands out so the bouncer could see her entire small but voluptuous frame, "I didn't lose them. Dolce and Gabbana does not design with pockets in mind, unfortunately." She lifted her eyes back to his, "and call me Lalita."
Manju snickered from the curb. He'd wondered how long it would take her to find this one.
Ignoring her brother's ill-mannered laughter, she took the cigarette that the other bouncer gave to her because the one she spoke to was staring a bit too much at her. The one with the crush did, however, light it for her.
She walked around him, appraising his large form and smiling. One hand traced lightly over his shoulders and he let out a sigh. "You know, Matthew, that you should probably follow your partners example here and show a little more outward image of the club, yes?"
The mountain looked confused for a moment as she came into his view again, his head wrapping around what she had just said and how he was feeling and if she could see his hard-on and feeling like he was in the fourth grade all over again. Just being touched innocently by this woman was something he had desired since he saw her . . .
. . . and she knew it.
She drank it in. The glamour was teenage can't-go-all-the-way groping in the backseat of a car; it was covering your crotch at your first big business meeting because you caught a glimpse of your secretaries
soft flesh under her skirt; it was the first time you actually came to an orgasm; it was that sweet wonderful exhaustion and she took as much of it as she could as she raised up onto her toes and half-whispered to him.
"Get my card from Gina. You need proper attire; and I won't take no for an answer."
She lowered herself back to her regular height and caught his eye for just a split second before the Ferrari roared up to the curb. "Good night to you both."
She walked to the curb to stand next to her brother, leaving the bouncer to stare after her.
Her brother opened the door for her, leaning in and whispering. "You do realize he's not a plus size ken doll, I hope?"
"Better that then a pea-brained Barbie," she sniffed the car disdainfully.
He slipped into the drivers seat and smirked at her, flooring the pedal and forcing them back into the seats to preempt her reply. "You're too hard on your self, my dear."
She simply sat, legs crossed away from her brother and her arms crossed over her chest after her brother's cutting and childish insult, looking out of the window and pointedly ignoring him.
The bouncer must've been an accident.