non stop erotic cabaret

The Look Of Love Pt. 1 — ABC

-carousel lights blinking in the distance. She stumbles towards them, blinking Her eyes, Her orange dress pouring behind Her like a tap, wondering whether she will get to see Him there. There’s a long distance between Her and the fair, a longer distance from where She started, and a longer distance still from where He wants to be.

There was no denying She was another-level attractive. She was graceful, unforgettable and effortless, Her dress draped delicately from Her shoulders as if the slightest breeze would lose it to the night, and yet, as She marched in the face of the wind, it remained fixed to Her, each stride of Her long legs daring it to take flight. Her face was striking, high cheekbones and full lips held in check by Her granite stare – black eyes like bullets – and a long mahogany mane that only She could tame with Her strong fingers. She was often told of Her incomparable beauty, suitors purring and clucking at Her from a safe distance. One short, sharp stare had always been enough to disrobe the leering confidence, or, should She choose, light the fires of libido in Her prey – always enough until She met Him.

They both remember the moment clearly but entirely differently. It had been one of those shitty parties where neither had known the host well, and the guest who had inappropriately invited them had quickly arrived, locked eyes with and left with a total stranger for a night of beige sex before they both caved into peer pressure and duped each other into thinking that thinking about other people during sex was normal and got married. He was on his fifth whiskey, Her second glass of wine – dangerous territory for mere mortals, catastrophic for figures of Their beauty – and in the background the other couples destined for a night of beige sex were dancing to ABC’s The Look of Love. He made a comment, both pretended to find the song embarrassing and yet it was weaving Them together in a cocoon of fluttering eyelashes and strong chins, alcohol flushing away any inhibitions and before the strings had returned for the song’s crescendo Their lips had found each other and They had no need for words.

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