Feminine Power - MWBB

The weeks Mid-Week Blues-Buster spoke very quickly to me, with it's deep sexual overtones. It was easy to come up with an image and write with it and it earnt me a 2nd Place. It countered a piece already written by Mark Ethridge, which is disturbing and brilliantly written. There were some exceptional pieces, so I was surprised to get placed at all. 

The prompt song this week was:

The The - Dogs of Lust

She danced; her hands sliding down her long, luscious thighs as she wiggled her arse, which was tightly covered in a short black skirt. They were all looking at her, every single male in the place. She could have any one of them at the snap of her fingers. Their feet tapped with the beat, their bodies swayed as they watched her get into the grove. And their eyes followed her hand as slid it up her body to her face, the tip of the middle finger dipping into the edge of her mouth for a second before she swept it up into her hair. Her eyes peeped out from under her heavily laden lashes to look at them, all the animals in the house with their tongues hanging out for her.

She knew what she was doing. It was a fine balance between a tease and a genuine dance. No one could fault her - no one could say ‘she was asking for it’, she was enjoying the music and they knew it. Just because she was female didn’t mean she didn’t have the right to do that. But it was a test too. It wasn’t the first time things had gone awry here.

The bouncers watched too, but not her; they watched the dogs panting and getting ready to hump – whether her or any other girl in the house. She was setting them all off - even the girls, who started to join her.

They drifted in through the crowded men at the edges, feeling no shame as they started to move to the beat along with her, showing what they had to offer. They were looking at each other, not the men. And with each beat they moved closer, but not touching. They held eye contact, turning every now and then to face another girl; enjoying the freedom of being able to show of their sexiness, their raw feminine energy, without fear of reprisal, without fear of having it misunderstood and taken from them by force.  The throng kept increasing until all the women in the club were on the dance floor creating a writhing mass.

And their intensity towards each other broke the spell; their feminine collective being too much for the raw animal lust. The lusting stopped - some of the men averted their eyes, whether due to sensory overload or that something unsettled them about it no-one was sure. The women had made it clear they didn’t want them – or more than that they didn’t need them. They were enough on their own. A few men even stepped away to find the bar.

And like an invisible string being cut, the tension was gone. The men returned to a human state, and conversation resumed.

And the bouncers went back to enjoying the show.