Monday, October 20, 2014
Ride 'Em, Cowboy!
When he and Jamie responded to Mooney’s call and he saw the huge stuffed unicorn abandoned at the side of the road, inspiration struck. Over Jamie's objections he'd lugged the big toy home, and started planning.
The Thursday night crowd was a rowdy bunch. The women wanted men, and they wanted them handsome, muscular, mostly naked and gyrating up on the stage. Lamar had all that covered, except for the musclebound part. Snakes just couldn’t bulk up, not even the constrictors. On the other hand, no man and very few women on earth could out-gyrate a snake.
Jamie was seated in the front row as usual, and getting jostled by howling, slavering women. The previous acts had whipped them into a frenzy. Even the herbivores were clamoring for blood, or other body fluids. Everybody knew Lamar was the best male (and occasionally female) dancer in the club, after Gypsy. He hadn’t revealed his new routine’s specifics to Jamie, just smirked a lot. He’d taken almost obsessive care of the stuffed unicorn, brushing its mane and fluffing its fur.
Please, Jamie prayed to the wolf gods, don’t let it be too obscene.
The stage lights came up. Lamar burst through the curtain. He had on a cowboy hat, a leather vest, chaps, boots, and a gun belt slung low on his narrow hips, with the single holster and a long-barreled Colt positioned where mammalian men kept their hardware. He came out firing cap pistols, with the stuffed unicorn positioned between his knees as if he were riding it. The unicorn had a condom on its horn. Jamie groaned and prayed harder.
Lamar did a high-legged dismount and went into his sinuous dance. The women crowded the stage and waved dollar bills. Lamar turned his bare butt to them and twerked hard enough to rattle the Colt in its holster. He flashed a smirky grin at his audience, but mostly at Jamie.
“Why do I do this?” Jamie muttered to himself. His lament went unheard beneath the screams of the women. “Why do I punish myself like this? I ain’t even Catholic.”
But dayum, the boy could dance up a storm. Wasn’t nobody on earth could dance like a snake with its sex drive cranked up to the max. Jamie crossed his legs to hide his hard-on. Again, nobody noticed. Nobody except Lamar. The women might think otherwise, but Jamie knew that grin and wink combo was meant for him alone. What Lamar kept in the pouch behind the holster belonged to him alone, too. Jamie gave up on his scowl—Lamar always ignored it anyway—and grinned back. Lamar responded with a hip roll that got a whole passel of dollar bills waving in his direction.
After a drop to the stage floor for some serious suggestive writhing, Lamar fetched up against the unicorn. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the plush creature’s muzzle.
The spell Marissa had placed on the beast over the phone chose that precise moment to wear off.
The whole room shook with shrieks when the stuffed toy unicorn suddenly shimmered and grew to life size. Nobody screamed louder than Lamar. He dove off the stage into the crowd, fought his way to Jamie, and scrambled into his lover’s lap. His arms coiled around Jamie’s neck in a stranglehold.
“Dayum,” Jamie said. “I knew you had a kiss that can wake the dead, but dayum!”
“That wasn’t part of the act!” Lamar hissed. “Moon Moon! He set me up, the stinking—” His hiss dissolved into raging Spanish.
Meanwhile, the unicorn stood on the stage and stared out quizzically at the audience. He blinked and shook his horn. The remains of the condom split and went flying. The unicorn finally located Lamar amid the chaos and extended his muzzle. Lamar shrank back against Jamie.
“Does this mean no second date?” the unicorn said.
# # #
The unicorn’s name was Hugh. He could assume a human form, but chose to stay in his unicorn shape because the women clearly liked it better. They sashayed past Lamar and Jamie’s table in a steady stream, to fondle his sparkling horn or run their fingers through his mane. Hugh did nothing to discourage this, though he politely passed any dollars they waved at him over to Lamar. As far as the Pleasure Club patrons were concerned, this was the best damn show the snake had ever put on.
“I don’t know how I missed this place,” Hugh said. “I have got to come back here.”
“They’re not virgins, y’know,” Jamie warned him. “Good luck finding a virgin anywhere in Talbot’s Peak.”
“I’m not into virgins. That’s a misconception. It’s purity that gets us galloping. This whole room’s pure sex right now.” He bared his big horse teeth. “Me like.”
“Listen,” Lamar started. “When you were, uh, a stuffed toy … ”
“Do I remember anything? Just bits and pieces. I didn’t mind it, really. I was plenty drunk when I passed out. Stuffed toys don’t get hangovers. Thanks for all the brushings, by the way. My coat’s never looked better.”
“Any time,” Lamar said. “Um. Is one of those bits and pieces … ”
“The night you two played Lone Ranger and Zorro in the kitchen? Oh yeah. That was pure, too. Loved the ‘sword’ fight.” He winked. “I’m normally into women, but any time you boys would like a third—”
“We’re good,” Jamie said quickly.
Hugh rippled his coat in a striking rainbow shrug. “Your loss. Y’think maybe I can get some of these fine ladies to buy me a hard cider?”